Disclaimer: Natsuki Takaya owns FB, and anything that you recognize isn't mine.

Chapter 10

If you walk down Sonu Street, the main street in the Mhagenu district of Lhasa, and head in a northwesterly direction, eventually you reach the foothills fringing the Hothan Divide. At that point, Sonu Street becomes a two-lane, hilly country road. An hour car drive away, you arrive at Shiwa, a suburb that has become a stopping point for the well-to-do of Lhasa on their way to more far-away, exclusive mountain resorts during the summer season. The well-to-do never stay long, and only in the nice part of town—Shiwa is notorious as a gang town. Outside of the four or five streets kept up for the visitors, most of Shiwa's walls have been defaced, and potholes spread their insidious cracks over the streets.

On the whole, Shiwa is a slightly more mountainous version of Ghunene. The biggest difference is that its young people take pride in their gang culture. Gang fights were a daily occurrence, and kickouts were rare. The gangsters came from families whose adults were preoccupied with trying to pay the bills with minimal salaries from low-level jobs, and were prone to drinking to excess to drown their sorrows.

Halinake Lhurone had come from such a family. They weren't even his real parents, just his guardians, so he hadn't felt too bad when he joined a gang full-time at age eleven. He hadn't tried to contact them since then. Too busy defending his title as the best hand-to-hand fighter in town. The gang had become his life. Lhurone spent his days with the boys dodging the well-meaning but pathetic volunteers trying to get them to go to school, and having it out with other gangs. In the fights, disbelieving opponents had laughed at Lhurone's petite, girlish body, only to have their faces slammed into the ground. Lhurone did look a little strange—perfectly thick, black hair, pulled into a long, low ponytail, a long yet elegant face with big round eyes and the sleek body with muscular legs. However, his fighting and cussing skills were all the gang needed.

Now things had changed. Lhurone was getting kicked out.

Lhurone

I wasn't used to wandering the streets without the boys, being all alone. They'd probably hurt me later. I say "hurt," but I meant something far more serious. Something that would lead to death. I can't say it because I've become literally unable to say, do or even think anything violent. It's true. On my 15th birthday four days ago, I suddenly became unable to tolerate the sight of punches, the smell of blood, or hearing curses. Very bad news if you're a member of a Shiwa gang.

I tried to hide it at first, but it was impossible. The boys couldn't help but noticed when I fainted while Hiro, the leader, twisted some middle-aged man's arm in a mugging. Soon after that, I tried to cuss at a kid from a rival gang, and instead of screaming "&# $# &," I said in a demure voice, "Your kitten is really adorable." You can just imagine the way my comrades were staring at me. A few more incidents like that, and this morning they had told me I was getting kicked out. Tonight, at seven. Since then, I'd been wandering around Shiwa, avoiding any gangsters I saw.

You ask, why don't I get out of town and run away? The answer is, I have nowhere to go, and no money to get anywhere. And anyway, my gang would've chased me until the score was settled. Memories are long in Shiwa. I couldn't go back to my guardians; I didn't know if the old drunks were even still alive. So I just walked around, preparing for my fate. For the first time, since departure from this world was imminent for me, I felt doubts about gang life. My mind went down other avenues, to a summer three years ago, when I'd first met Hatsuharu and Haku.

I'd run into the boys when I was out on a mugging in the fancy part of town. They were walking around in some hotel garden when I jumped the fence and crashed into Hatsuharu.

"Hey, easy," he said. "What's the big idea?"

"Not your business, &# out of my way," I had spat, still a tough gangster.

"Well, could you give us directions back to the hotel first?" he'd asked, embarrassed. Haku had been standing behind him, wary of me. Don't blame him at all for acting like that around me. After all, he saw my clothes and the tattoos on my arms. Me, I don't know why I stopped and gave Hatsuharu the directions. Something about him…the aura of safety he gave off. We just clicked. Or maybe I just felt sorry for his having such a terrible sense of direction.

Whatever my reasons at first, Hatsuharu became my only real friend. He was the only equal I had in my fighting days. He told me that he and Haku were here with their guardian for the summer, because their guardian was trying to track down an old acquaintance. I learned about life in Lhasa, about their school experiences, the two friends they had. Haku kept his distance from me at first, but eventually he would chip in every so often. He was a little frightening, Haku was. Made me think their life wasn't all roses, the way he kept to himself and how Hatsuharu always kept talk about Asheno down to a minimum. Growing up in Shiwa, you quickly learn to spot an abused kid when you see one. Haku was one, although his relationship with Asheno seemed different from ones I'd heard about.

By the end of the summer, Haku and I had become better friends. But I owed it to Hatsuharu to let him know what was about to happen to me. I found the one working public pay phone in the poor part of Shiwa, and used what was left of my change to call him.

My face tightened as I heard, "Hello, this is Shoma Hatsuharu. Sorry, but I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back."

"Uh…this is Halinake Lhurone…um…I just called to say goodbye." Tears creeped into my eyes. "I'm getting kicked out at seven." It was was five already. I suppose I'd had a fantasy that Hatsuharu would rescue me. I hung up without saying anything more.

At fifteen to seven, I walked to the vacant lot where I'd be kicked out. The shadows cast by the one lone street light seemed more ominous than usual. I walked to the center of the light. At five to seven, the sound of heavy boots crunching on the gravel broke my last few moments of peace.

"So…any last words, isho?" leered Hiro. The black jackets of the gang ringed the circle of light, bright green armbands glowing. I saw a few flashes—knives.

"No." Loud and clear. I wouldn't wimp out now.

"Against the wall," ordered Hiro. One side of the circle opened up to let me pass. I walked over, and put my back against the cold concrete. I fixed my gaze on a speck of dust dancing in the light behind the advancing boys. A sharp pain made me gasp as the first punch cracked a rib. I doubled over, and a hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back up. I fell to the ground after getting hit on the right side of my head. Luminescent spots swam through my eyes and I vaguely sensed a warm liquid running down my face. Oh, I'm bleeding, I don't like blood...was the last coherent though I had. A quick kick knocked the wind out of me. Dazed, I automatically clutched my stomach.

"Fuck! What is that?"

"It's got red eyes!" A deep, resounding growl.

"I'm beating it out of here!" I barely registered the gang suddenly running away, and the enormous dog chasing after them. Screaming, followed by thuds.

Minutes passed. I'd finally gained my breath and worked my aching body back into a sitting position against the wall. Then, a wet, really wet, tongue began licking my bloody right cheek. I turned my head slowly, to come eye-to-eye with glowing red eyes.

First, "this is how my life will end" came to mind. But it was too quiet. No one was around—everyone had gone. My nose caught a strong tangy smell. Blood, and not just mine. I peered into the darkness around me as best as I could. On the edge of the lighted circle, a puddle of blood slowly congealed and dried. The sight made my vision swim.

"Oh, butterflies," I groaned, as my inhalation caused a shooting pain from my cracked rib. "I wish I could cuss right." Wait, forget cussing right—there was still a monstrous dog lurking around somewhere, who had probably killed a couple of the gangsters. Why would I be spared? I was in no shape to run.

The dark shape eased itself into the light. Now I saw that it really was more of a wolf, a giant black wolf with a serious fur condition. Blood still dripped from its jaws, spotting the gravel. Not one of my muscles dared twitch.

"Lhurone…" It took me a moment to register that that thing had actually called me by name.

"Those men bother no more. All dead." It killed ALL of them? How?

"You safe now. Go to Lhasa, to Shoma house." The monster had saved my life. My head throbbed.

"Remember Shoma house. In Mhagenu. Must go now. Weak. You must go to Lhasa." The wolf leapt upwards and disappeared.

The silence was broken only by my strained breathing. A ghostly creature had just killed everybody in the gang and saved my life. It had also talked to me and told me to go to Lhasa. I had survived a kickout with only minimal injury, comparatively. Carefully, I inched upwards into a standing position. I steeled myself enough to riffle through the pockets of one of the dead boys lying close by. His throat had been torn open by the wolf.

"Its teeth were real, certainly," I thought, trying to stave off fainting from the sight of blood. Aha…found enough change. Slowly I walked to the phone booth, picked up the receiver, and dialed.

"Hello?" Hatsuharu's voice responded, clearly agitated.

"Hatsuharu?" I gasped. Maybe my rib wasn't just cracked after all—the pain burned with each breath.

"Lhurone? Are you all right? Has the kickout happened yet?"

"It's okay, Hatsuharu, I'm okay. There was a kickout, but…you won't believe what I say."

"Try me."

"The gang had started patting me, and then this…huge wolf with red eyes appeared out of nowhere and uh…well, everybody in the gang is now deceased. Then the wolf talked to me and told me to go to the Shoma house in Lhasa, and he was gone after that."

Hysterical laughter came over the phone. "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing, but I understood everything you just said."

"What?"

"Never mind," Hatsuharu was regaining control of himself. "I'll explain it you later. But what did you mean, "patting"? Didn't you mean "hitting?""

"Yes, but—"

"You can tell me later. Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, I think I've got a broken rib and my head really hurts."

"Can you keep yourself safe until I come to pick you up?"

"Uh, yeah…How about I meet you at the hotel, the one that I met you at? You remember where that is, right?" That wasn't far. I'd be able to get there.

"Yes, I'll be there in an hour. Be careful until then."

"Thanks."

"See you, old friend."