CHAPTER I

…

…

Miura Yumiko stood in the doorway of their new room, while her friend walked around to examine that the place was in order as expected. Hikigaya Hachiman seemed pleased, and sat in one of the cushioned chairs in the beautifully furnished living room. The accommodations quite exceeded their expectations. Yumiko prided herself in being a fancy, sophisticated individual - She never missed out on the latest fashion and trends. Usually she wouldn't think twice of spending money if it meant luxury and the bragging rights that came with it. Having arrived at the famed metropolis that was Minato, Tokyo earlier in the day, she was in her element. She was a city girl, a cosmopolitan, always has been. Yet, she stood in disbelief, looking around.

Hachiman finally spoke. "I know it's not much- "

"Not much? This is a five-star royal suite!" Yumiko blurted out. "Look at this!" she began pacing about, wide-eyed and gawking at the extravagance of the flat.

The living room was carpeted on every inch of the dark, polished floor and the steps which led to their respective bedrooms revealed chambers fit for national ambassadors. It was essentially two royal suites combined; a large baroque, windowed sliding door divided the living quarters, and each of them possessed their respective side of the room. Bookshelves, furniture and bureaus were still waiting to be filled, and the pristine walls hung with portraits. Hachiman said he would have the rest of his books delivered later in the week. It was a huge place, and on the windowside the vast city looked up to them.

She gazed out the window, then turned around. Yumiko was overwhelmed for a minute, then suddenly fell silent. She went up to Hachiman. "But how… this is super expensive, how are we going to pay for all this?" she asked.

Hachiman was skimming through a pocketbook. Without looking up, he said, "well, I made some arrangements, and cut a deal with the manager himself. The good news is that instead of the full rent, we only have to pay roughly the same price as a double economy room. It's a mighty generous deal you see." Hachiman put a finger up. "Just don't ask how I did it."

Yumiko was in disbelief. "What?!" she gasped, too surprised to even continue. After a while she said, "well, it's a nice room…"

"It is, isn't it?"

In fact, the Capablanca Hotel which they had checked in had much closer ties to the rising Chiba Outfit mob than it seemed. It was no Venetian Macao or Atlantic City, but the Capablanca on Hibiya-dori avenue was famous on its own until it had been renamed. It had served its share of politicians, ministers, business giants and movie stars since the 80's, and had an almost legendary reputation as one of the more refined buildings in Tokyo. It wasn't a place where mob bosses and gangsters gathered and met, but the new manager was a friend of a friend. Thus, once they learned who the esteemed guest was, the manager did not waste any time to accommodate the boss. With the beginning of the Chiba Outfit's expansion into Tokyo, the Capablanca was one of the growing number of establishments in the city coming under the protective umbrella of the mob.

Hachiman had already taken care of everything regarding their stay in Tokyo. And as soon as their storefronts and offices and hangouts were set up, it would become exponentially more convenient for them to operate and do business in the big city. Within the next months, he thought, they could have a huge network going on. On the other hand, Hachiman had the company of his - albeit hot-headed - friend, which wasn't the worst thing at all. He actually appreciated it.

Yumiko this time was apparently embarrassed. "Y'know," she mumbled sheepishly, "you didn't have to go through all the trouble to get me- us, a place like this. Anywhere's fine, really. I'm okay with whatever your call is, Hachi."

"Do you want to live in some run-down flat in Roppongi?" He suggested.

"To hell with that!" She immediately answered.

Hachiman grinned. He stood up, arched his back and yawned. "Then we'll take this. Don't worry about the money- "

Yumiko grabbed Hachiman by the shoulders and shook him, looking at him determinedly. "I'll work harder, I promise you! I'll earn more money, so don't you go breaking your arse to carry the both of us. We'll both equally pay for the bloody rent," she insisted furiously. "I'm not gonna disappoint you, Hachi."

She may not be pulling her weight at the moment compared to him, but she was confident that she could make herself useful. Yumiko still trusted her razor-sharp skills inside a salon, and she would finally be taking a very special application at an agency this July. It paid well to be a junior forensics investigator with course experience on medicine. She had not yet divulged this secret of hers.

The conviction on her face made Hachiman smile a bit. "I'm glad."

"So… what's the bad news?" Yumiko asked, suddenly apprehensive.

Hachiman said, "the bad news is that this room - well, your room to be precise - was a place where something a little disturbing happened. They say a wealthy businesswoman once checked into this suite. Apparently, she had just lost a huge fortune, so that night she went inside the bedroom, took out a fourteen-inch long fish knife from her briefcase and stabbed herself. She sliced open her guts from right to left, and died there on the bed. That's why the manager agreed to give us this particular suite - nobody else wanted it when they're informed of what happened here."

Yumiko was mortified, and she was suddenly paler than usual. "No. That's bullshit! It's not true… it's not. You're being funny, r-right?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm just passing along the words. Heck if that tie wasn't red, it sure is now," he mused.

She accused him, "is this some sort of sexually motivated scheme that I'm unaware of?!"

"No, but screw it, you can even crash on my bed if you want. I'll take the couch." Hachiman eyed the gray couch out on the spacious balcony. All that he needed was to raise a canopy, and from experience he knew there was nothing better than sleeping under the cool, summer sky at night. Besides, the bed was too soft for him.

But Yumiko was still anxious. "H-Hachi. Let's not stay in this room! How would I know if there are haunted ghosts here?"

"Here's how you'd know if there's a ghost in a place: there isn't. Grow up, Yumiko."

"Oh, fine!"

"Get settled in."

Yumiko put down her bags and then finally relaxed on her queen-sized bed. The room was pleasantly cool. She maintained not to fall asleep just yet. She could spot the top of the Tokyo Tower down the avenue, peeking from the ridges of the buildings. The sun had begun to fall and paint the sky a brilliant orange. Hachiman did not seem to be paying too much attention. He was reclined in an armchair, his eyes closed and his head slightly down, as if he was taking a nap.

Hachiman then looked at her. "We're both going to the same university now. How did you turn out in the entrance exams?" He asked quietly. Yumiko sat up and glanced at him from across the room.

"Got accepted into First Class. On the bulletin, I turned out in the fourth highest place. I was sure I could've come in at third place, but alas. It's good enough, no?"

Hachiman was impressed. "Good enough? Yumiko you aced it, and that's also considering it was a very challenging test," he said.

She sighed triumphantly. "I surpassed Yukinoshita-san, so I'll settle," she boasted. Yumiko had in fact exceeded several names in the board after the exam results. However, she could not beat the top three, which were obviously stellar in terms of academic excellence compared to her. Regardless, she had taken it lightly and forgotten the names all too quickly.

"Always vindictive, aren't you?"

"What about you? How'd you turn out, Hachiman?"

Hachiman again laid back against his armchair, seemingly morose. "I was placed only in Fourth class," he said.

Yumiko was astonished, but didn't show it. "That's okay," she said gently. She turned towards him. "There's nothing wrong with that, really. But you're not planning on staying low, are you?"

"No. I'll work my way up."

Hachiman was well aware that while he may not be academically superior to other scholarly students, he was competent enough at least to not be placed in the lowest class. That was why he was a bit irritated at how things had turned out. At that moment, he was sure that there were other certain criterias in the Lyceum that were in place. It could either be wealth, social background, or even one's behaviour in respect to other people. Besides, his friend wasn't a genius, yet Yumiko passed into the top. He could understand being placed in Third Class, but Fourth Class? In any case he would have to find out soon.

Yumiko said, "Do you already know something about the Minato Lyceum? Like, are there promotions to advance classes?"

Hachiman scratched his cheek, thoughtful. "Yes, there are. I'm sure the university curriculum is a merit-based one. I don't see why students can't raise their class if they could. Although, as expected, certain people could buy their way to the top if they have the money for it. That's how come all of the students in First Class happen to be from wealthy families or have political backgrounds. But you made your way up there, Yumiko, by your own doing. It's not exactly like you're a VIP who got on the priority list. So I think I may have a shot at this."

Yumiko continued looking at him searchingly. "How do you know that?"

"It's obvious," he replied quietly.

"Count on me to help you," she said. "It's going to be a challenge, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

Yumiko fell back down into the sheets. She crossed her arms behind her head and stretched, letting out a pleased breath. "I'm looking forward to making new friends," she enthused. "This is a really exciting opportunity. I don't think it can get any better than this. Passing into an elite school, living in a high-rise, and especially since you're here..." Yumiko glanced at him. "But Hachi, I must say that I'm kinda worried you'll ruin it all for yourself again. I don't want you to be a loner again, okay?"

Hachiman was amused. He gave some more thought into it and closed his eyes. He sat up, shifted his arm in the chair and rested his chin on his palm. He watched Yumiko.

"Yumi-nee, you're a good person," he said. Yumiko at once blushed madly upon hearing this, but listened. Hachiman continued. "I think you have a big heart underneath all that toughness. But what's a little worrying is: you seem like the kind of person who, after reaching the top, would then decide to jump off the edge. But when you're at the bottom, you don't seem to have the guts neither."

"The guts to do what?" Yumiko furrowed her eyebrows. She got up, suddenly perturbed. "What do you mean by that?" she asked cautiously.

"Right now I'm sure you're aiming high, and I'm certain you'd be able to go all the way to the top. But staying at the top… that's a whole different matter. You'll realize that once you see how those people, the so-called créme de la créme of this Lyceum, tear each other down out of some misplaced complex. It's a rather vicious crab-mentality that can often be observed in people."

Yumiko thought about it carefully. "I get it. I'm not gonna aim too high, don't you worry."

"Not trying to stifle your aspirations," he added. Hachiman checked the clock on the nearby table and said, "it's about time for dinner. Let's go downstairs and see the buffet?"

Yumiko gave a dry chuckle and was immediately on her feet. "Goddamn, let's do that. I'm starving."

…

The next day marked the start of their classes at the Minato Lyceum.

However, Yumiko was already frustrated when she catched up to Hachiman at the station. She was almost fearful that he had gone off without her, but was relieved to see him standing near a column on the platform. Even though he was inconspicuously dressed in a white shirt and slacks, she could pick him out from the crowds of identical office men in the place. His iconic blue overcoat was draped lazily on his shoulder, so she knew.

"You didn't wait for me! Why?"

Hachiman glanced at her with an aloof expression. "But I did. See, I haven't boarded the train yet."

Hachiman tried to reason, but Yumiko was indignant. "That's not what I mean. We should've left together, y'know? It's not right to leave people behind."

"Okay, okay." Hachiman raised his hands in submission. They eventually boarded the crowded train and luckily found a seat next to each other. "So, did you sleep well?"

"Well, um…" Yumiko yawned and rubbed her eyes. She'd put on a casual attire of a blue jacket, a shirt and blue jeans, and one of her favourite pairs of Converse - a simple appearance, neither ostentatious nor bland, which she judged befitting for her first day in class. "I'm still a bit groggy. I couldn't stay still last night."

"Huh." After a moment, Hachiman said, "we should split up when we enter the gates. It might not be the greatest idea for people to start thinking we're close together."

"What're you saying?" Yumiko asked, puzzled.

Hachiman explained. "I mean, not that I'm exaggerating, but I can already tell that First Class students don't get along well with the lower classes."

Yumiko thought, and understood quietly. "Yeah, I get you."

"Hey, you've got your own business to worry about. I have mine, and I'm starting from square one again with no acquaintances. You'll do just fine in First Class, Yumiko."

They noticed a commotion building in the car. Hachiman glanced around to find where the voices were coming from, and he stopped at the sight of two other college students. One of them was standing; a girl with a pretty face, and neat clothes. She had light, almost gray-blonde hair. Although she seemed like a typical nice girl, her companion was the complete opposite. She was attempting to rouse an intimidating fellow off his slumped position in the car.

The girl spoke again, this time with a softer kind of persuasion. "Ryuuen-san, will you please give your seat to Ojii-san here? He's already tired." She gestured towards an older man, whose appearance seemed weathered by the sun. He did look somewhat tired, but did not openly show his weakness.

"I don't see why that's my problem." The guy finally answered in a low, clear voice. His arms were crossed and he did not look up.

"You're being unreasonable. Are you not ashamed?"

"I'm not doing anything wrong. It's not like I invented aging and took the fuckin' seat away from him. What the hell's gotten into you, Shiina-chan? Are you suddenly a saint or what?"

The one named Ryuuen raised his voice, indicating slight animosity. Nobody else really paid any attention, although the altercation was within earshot. It seemed that the girl was beginning to understand her companion's obstinacy. She seemed to know him well, because otherwise she wouldn't have bothered the rather crude delinquent. Hachiman and Yumiko watched without any reactions.

Hachiman got up from his seat. Without any pretext, he approached the old man and tapped him on the shoulder and quietly addressed him. What he did next would surprise his friend.

"Momento, señor… disculpe..." Hachiman spoke softly, almost as if to keep the bystanders from hearing him. He motioned towards his seat, which was now vacant. The old man was surprised to find out that the young student knew his language.

"Gracias, mijo!" The old man suddenly gave a wrinkled smile that exuded gratitude. He patted the student's shoulders affectionately before taking the seat slowly. Hachiman nodded, and simply stood near a post, soon blending into the background. He had already slid into his overcoat and fell silent.

Yumiko stood up not long after, and hastily went over to Hachiman. She stood next to him, and as the car was already crowded to begin with, she was pressed against his arm.

"Oi, why'd you stand up as well?" Hachiman asked.

"Were you trying to make me look bad or something?" Yumiko whispered. "Well, you made me feel shitty for not standing up as well, thanks a lot."

"That wasn't my intention at all," he stifled a laugh.

"I didn't know you spoke another language."

"I don't," He answered thoughtfully. "I just know from the folks I work with down at the bay. Honestly I couldn't tell the difference from Italian or Spanish if I tried but sometimes, you learn a thing or two." Hachiman noted that the old man may have remained quiet because he could not say anything to the students.

"Well, ain't no way I'm gonna keep still after that. I'm sticking with you. Why'd you play nice all of a sudden?"

Hachiman shrugged, not answering immediately. "Why not?" He simply said.

They left it at that. Before long they had gotten off at Shirokane-Takanawa station and, after a pleasant walk down the avenue, arrived at the gates of the Lyceum and waved to each other before splitting up. Hachiman watched his friend vanish into the stream of other students, which were headed a different way. He was even a bit curious as to what stories she would tell later when they got home.

Hachiman was walking towards his designated class's building when he heard someone walk up beside him.

"Yo, kid."

Hachiman glanced at him. It was the same person from the train before, the one that refused to give up his seat. Hachiman already knew his name after hearing from the other female student who had tried unsuccessfully to convince him. Ryuuen was taller than Hachiman, with dark hair and sharp facial features; most likely a delinquent, and had quite an abrasive attitude.

"I saw you on the train a while ago. You gave up your seat, didn't you?" Ryuuen asked rather brusquely.

Hachiman did not bother. "So what?" He muttered.

"Aren't you a nice guy."

"I don't know."

"Where do you think that'll get you, being such a gentleman?"

"I don't know, but I could maybe go farther than you."

"Well there we go, he's also a smartass," Ryuuen laughed rhetorically. "Now I'm convinced you're just some cocky nice guy who thinks he's mighty smart."

Hachiman continued to walk unaffected. "Yes, I'm a nice guy. I know manners, I show other people respect, and I'll occasionally give up my own seat for someone. But it's not because I'm a gentleman, no. I guess maybe I was just raised properly." Hachiman responded, though not with the intention of indirectly jabbing at Ryuuen's ego. "What about you?"

At this, Ryuuen's eyes narrowed sharply. He clenched his jaw, but then smirked amusedly at Hachiman. If I only knew that it would be this much trouble, Hachiman thought, I wouldn't have played nice at all. Regardless, he saw what he saw back in the train. He simply did what he did, not because he empathized but because it was something that ought to be done. The two did not talk anymore as they entered their classroom.

This wouldn't be the last time the two crossed each other. The class hadn't even begun to get to know each other yet. Inevitably, sooner or later Hachiman would walk into Ryuuen and his gang, and then a confrontation may prove fateful.

…

Hachiman was not even bothered after his first day in class and the formalities that took place almost repelled him naturally. He was polite enough to introduce himself to his classmates if they asked, and sometimes struck up lighthearted conversations with them. He had made progressive changes since high school. But he noted that his personality was far from stellar; he was still the one of the odd ones out. He didn't have any companions after class let out, he sat at the rear of the room as was his tradition, and his usual apathetic expression either intimidated others or simply did not garner any attention towards him.

He had not even gotten into Class II, as he'd planned and anticipated the least. He had almost zero knowledge of anyone in this class. Sure, he knew all the big names in the Lyceum and who he wanted to keep an eye on, but there was little to none in Class IV. It was the bottom of the barrel, as they'd say. Still, Hachiman understood that Class IV was not outright without worth. The Professor would tell him that. And he had intentions of pulling himself up, one way or another.

Now his classmates were at the very least decent. There was Mei-Yu Wang, who was perhaps the smartest of the girls in class; Kei Karuizawa, the reigning 'Miss Popular' of the room; Kikyo Kushida, who reminded him of a certain strawberry-haired girl he knew; and Mio Ibuki, who Hachiman could've sworn he'd seen somewhere around Chiba before, if his memory served him well. The girl from the train, Shiina, was also in his class. The boys in the class however more or less all fell into the same label of ruffians; Ken Sudo, Daichi Ishizaki, even Albert Yamada, the only foreigner student in their class, who he'd never heard speaking even once was likely of a rough character. There were almost forty of them in Class IV. But he did not mind the rest of them as much as he did with Ryuuen Kakeru.

Hachiman easily understood that Ryuuen Kakeru was the one who held sway over all of the other guys, the top dog of the pack. He carried an authoritative degree of character with him. Everyone else didn't have to like him, but for this they did follow him. Mostly, Hachiman reckoned, because it was by force of influence and there was little point in challenging Ryuuen. And that was what Ryuuen Kakeru also presumed - as it was with last year, he would again be the undisputed leader of his class, ruling with an iron fist.

Hachiman already expected trouble once he stood out as someone who wasn't about to play along with the status quo being enforced, and he had no intention to. The first few days in class went as smooth as butter, and Hachiman could almost be tricked that this would be just another banal chapter in his yearbook, until he finally crossed paths with Ryuuen Kakeru in the hallway that afternoon.

It seemed that Ryuuen Kakeru's gang followed him like flies, often outnumbering anyone if they happened to be caught by them. Hachiman was set to pass by them down the corridor after he was one of the last ones to leave the classroom. A dark-skinned fellow knelt, hunched over Ryuuen's foot with a piece of cloth while the latter sat imperiously on a chair. Two other guys leaned against the lockers beside him. There were not many students in the corridor now as most had already gone in a hurry to enjoy the lunchtime, and those within the vicinity avoided the gang instinctively. Nobody walked past Ryuuen and his group, except Hachiman.

One of the cronies called out to him. "There he is, our Mr. Nice Guy. How's you doing?"

"Hey, where do you think you're going? Hold up a bit." The one Hachiman recognized as Daichi interrupted his path, prompting him to stop and look at them.

"You gonna get a snack? Is that what?" Another jeered.

"Do you need something?" Hachiman eyed the guy in front of him, slightly impatient.

Ryuuen cleared his throat. Hachiman faced him. "Well, see here Mr. Nice Guy, I'm missing a couple thousand yen for my lunch. I'm gonna have to ask you to give me a loan," Ryuuen said smugly.

"No." He responded in a flat tone.

"Look at you, cool as a fuckin' cucumber." Ryuuen sneered, grinning carnivorously as he crossed his arms. "What happened to the whole 'I was raised properly' of yours?"

Hachiman smiled at them curtly. "It's just as you said, Mr. Kakeru. I don't have to give you a cent because also... I don't see why that's my problem."

Ryuuen stopped. "Albert. Get up." He ordered in a low voice, unamused at Hachiman's impunity.

The black man named Albert promptly stopped his work on Ryuuen's shoes and stood up. He towered over the rest of them, and when he faced Hachiman it was clear that the latter could not stand a chance. This was obviously a hostile gesture by Ryuuen. But Hachiman was unfazed.

Hachiman remained silent. He squinted at the two. "The same old thing," he muttered contemptuously. "The privileged boy sits back, while the black man slaves away for him. Is that right?"

His words struck with such harsh precision that it stunned them all for a second. Ryuuen frowned, but after a tense moment, it was suddenly Albert who spoke to answer. His eyes were indistinguishable behind the dark glasses on his nose, but it was apparent that he was glancing down at his feet. He said in a heavy but soft voice, "No. That's not right."

Hachiman shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, it ain't," he said.

"What're you puttin' over? Eh?" Ryuuen barked, building up a slow anger. He rose to his feet but Hachiman simply ignored him and continued to address the man in front of him.

"Mr. Albert Yamada Sieyes," Hachiman said. "That's you, isn't it?"

Albert was surprised. Too taken aback by the recognition from this stranger, he merely managed to nod. "Yes sir, that's right."

"You are a cousin of the late Robert Sieyes?"

"Yes sir."

"Pardon my impudence. I offer my sincerest condolences." Hachiman lightly touched his hat in respect to Albert and his blood relative, before finally turning towards Ryuuen. He would speak to the important fellow later but for now, he had another matter to deal with.

His expression shifted into one of cold nature. "Where was I, now? Kakeru-san," he said.

Ryuuen gave a sardonic smile. "Kukuku, you've got a lotta nerve waltzing around my authority," he mused. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Inwardly, Hachiman shook his head at this. It was something nobody ought to say in such conversations. He replied impatiently, "no, I don't. Who are you?"

"You're talking to someone who's way fucking above your league," he said viciously. "Boy, you still have milk on your lips yet you're already such an ambitious punk. What nerve! In these places, I'm the boss. But because this is only the first day, and as I can see you are still quite clueless, I'll let it slide. Get it through your head that whatever you do, I'll be watching."

Ryuuen glared at him contemptuously for a few more moments, before whirling around and marching off. The rest of his cronies threw dirty glances at him and followed along. Except for Albert Sieyes, who turned his head at Hachiman with an almost sympathetic sort of look before silently leaving.

Ryuuen Kakeru reserved his respect for little other than himself. Unlike those upstart punks from the upper classes or the thugs picking on people several rungs beneath them, he had earned his respect through the hard way. What did they know of him? He had to scrape a living since elementary, after his mother divorced his old man, sticking catalogues through mailboxes until he found a better job in his neighborhood. He was briefly drawn into the hot-blooded life of a delinquent, but eventually settled into associating with a boryokudan gang down Nakahara-kaido avenue, who parked their motorbikes in front of a dinged-up bar. It was the beginning of business; collecting policy slips and shobadai from the blocks, running crap games, and participating in the rampant bootlegging scheme in the city. The same rackets every other kid ran, if they weren't as stupid as common delinquents. His old man used to beat him black-and-blue, ordering him to stay away from the delinquents in his grade. "They're twits," he roared, "you're gonna end up a bum like your fucking mother!"

That was until he started bringing home the cash. Ryuuen paid for his father's medicine and a caretaker, but not against his will. Then the old man finally shut up. Perhaps he saw how his son had finished learning his lesson the hard way. The young man may have been crass and violent, but he was not without morals.

Ryuuen was by then an inveterate realist. He didn't care if he got beat. He skipped school and taught himself practicality. At least he learned to distinguish a bunch of punks from serious wise guys on the streets. He swore to hell he wouldn't fall into the former category. The only time he really stayed in school was in senior high, and for three years he was confined in that damned Advanced Nurturing academy. He hadn't learned anything useful that he couldn't have learned on the streets. Regardless, he wondered how the hell he even got accepted into the Minato Lyceum. Because it was just as pointlessly adulated, the Advanced Nurturing High School guaranteed a pass into this institution, though of course Ryuuen was coerced into signing in by a rather annoying colleague of his. He gritted his teeth and wondered why he was even putting up with that damned airhead of a girl - who pestered him on the train, on the first day no less.

Now Ryuuen Kakeru thought back to the guy he confronted in his class. Usually, he did not go out of his way to confront anyone that wasn't worth his time. It wasn't in his nature, not actually. He hated those junior punks, and the loudmouths in Class IV, but he didn't feel the need to kick their asses. Maybe he'd belt them a couple of times if they really got on his nerves, but nothing more. Most of them were keen to understand that it was him who imposed order, in his class at least. He respected the head of his streets, the man who gives him jobs and pays him, so the same ought to be for his class; respect is not given, it is earned.

The guy in the blue jacket wasn't worth his time. But he looked at Ryuuen the wrong way, with those fishy dead eyes of his, and that was enough of an insult. Anyone bold enough to try and stand up to him ought to be crushed. This time not only by principle, but because Ryuuen did not tolerate challenges to his ego well. What worth would he be as the de-facto head of the class if he was as pathetic and groveling as the rest of them? Nobody respects a guy who lets himself get punked by other guys. And so he fermented ways to teach that Hikigaya kid a lesson. Perhaps he would only break a bone or two, toughen him up and show the ropes around here.

Ryuuen Kakeru had walked past the side gate of the campus and found himself outside, on the curb by the Shirokane streets again. He felt at ease. His acquaintances were right behind him as they loitered under a bus stop. It seemed that Albert Yamada was unaffected by what sprang up that afternoon, as he followed obediently without a word. Ryuuen was impatient to go back to Nishigotanda district, where he had important jobs to do. Maybe he'd skip classes and fence stolen appliances all day again. Ensconced in his thoughts, he did not notice a sedan screech to a halt further across the road.

Two men wrapped in light brown overcoats jumped out of the backseat and glanced around before making a beeline for the bus stop. They marched with intimidating certainty and swiftness that they picked out Ryuuen Kakeru from his group and seized him along with overpowering deliberation.

Ryuuen began to bolt furiously. "What the fuck are you assholes doing?" He snarled viciously. Still, Ryuuen was impetuous but he wasn't stupid. He immediately recognized the situation he was in, remembering the first time he was swept aside by a Yakuza when he tried to extort a clerk on the street. It had been a while. What could've he crossed now? He swore he hadn't made a mistake the past week. But when he had allowed himself to be whisked into the car with his assailants, he realized these people weren't the resident racketeers or even the Yakuza of the neighborhood.

Ryuuen inwardly grimaced. "I see, you're one of those people, eh? What, you're gonna ask me for vig now?" He muttered in an unpleasant manner.

"Kakeru-san. I would really prefer that we both be on good terms and pursue common goals. You see, I'm sure we can reach an agreement as I believe you are a reasonable man. I am simply a guest who wants to appeal to reason. But our little vis-a-vis from this morning, that really wasn't the appropriate way to speak to a guest, don't you think?"

The voice surprised him, as he gradually recognized it. He had heard it twice now during the course of this day. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't American, and these people did not look like the mafia at all. The two burly men in overcoats at his flank continued to grip his arms in place. Ryuuen stared up with bewildered eyes. He could hardly believe it. It was that punk of a nice guy from his class, at the front seat of the car.

"So allow me to introduce myself also: I am Hikigaya Hachiman. In these places, I am the boss. You will understand that whatever you do, I'm watching. I will be the first one to hear if you try to hustle the wholesalers along this avenue again. I wish to make a deal with you, though it is not advisable that you refuse as I will have my way, either way." The young man who was apparently the 'boss' of whatever gang he hailed from spoke softly, but he was dead serious. He glanced up into the rearview mirror and faced Ryuuen with dead expectant eyes.

Hachiman leaned back and turned his head around to look at Ryuuen, who was now dark with indignation. "But because this is only the first day, and as I see you are still quite clueless," he said curtly, "I'll let you slide." Hachiman added one more in a slight, formal tone. "Tell Mr. Wogner that Ieyori-san sends his regards. There is business for everyone, why kill each other over it?"

Hachiman promptly gave a gesture for his associates to easen up on Ryuuen. It was at that moment that the driver behind the wheel glanced back, revealing himself to Ryuuen. It was Tobe Kakeru, this time more reserved and donning a crisp white shirt. He and two of the boss's men from the station office had been called by him personally to pick him up.

Tobe Kakeru quietly said, "we can let him out now."

"Of course." Hachiman smiled at Ryuuen as he shuffled out of the car. Spontaneously, Tobe got out of his seat and onto the streets, and one of the men in the back took over.

"I look forward to working with you, Kakeru-san. You and your cousin Tobe will have a lot to speak about. Sayonara," Hachiman called out the window, waving his fingers around. The gray sedan sped off, rolling down the Shirokane avenue before vanishing, making a left turn in the metropolitan maze of Tokyo.

Ryuuen scowled as he watched his assailants leave. Then he turned to Tobe, in disbelief. He almost forgot that he had an existing cousin, and how long has it been since the last reunion? Alas, the two branches of their family weren't exactly intertwined, as one was well-off and the other was sunk in dysfunction and problems. He didn't know if he should yell at Tobe right now or receive him with open arms. The two spoke of what had happened, with the latter trying to explain things as tactfully as he could.

They would certainly have a lot to talk about, as they walked back towards the bus stop where his gang remained standing, all of them flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events. They had watched as Ryuuen was arrested by mafiosos and just as quickly thrown back out, this time accompanied by an uncanny man around his same age. The mysterious men in overcoats were gone by now, but an insidious feeling remained, as if they were truly being watched.

...

A.N. well I think this is alright for chapter 1.

I would like to go back to a particular review of a guest, who pointed out the supposed mistake of writing 'Tobe' as a first name and 'Kakeru' as a last name. It was intentional, as I'd planned for Tobe Kakeru to play a more active role in part 3 as the estranged cousin of Ryuuen Kakeru, from Classroom of the Elite. I figured it was a nice coincidence, and the two kind of looks alike if you think about it.

So was making Albert Yamada, a relatively minor side character in canon, play a more interesting part by making him part of the Sieyes family. After all he did stick out as a potential character being one if not the only foreigner in Class IV.

It was all plotted carefully from the start. And so the plot thickens.. we'll see how 8man interacts with more characters and their stories as we go along.