Here's chapter two, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Facts of Life

The young boy pinched his nose, trying to stop the blood from flowing while at the same time nursing a black eye. He was seated in a plastic chair, waiting with the other kid that he had gotten into a fight with, and he wasn't exactly happy with it. His foster family sure wasn't going to be. He'd been in fights before, and they had told him he either had to stop, or they would send him away.

It wasn't the first time for Hiro Takachiho though. He'd been shunted between foster homes before, ever since he started school. At first it was because he was rambunctious, or wasn't paying attention. Then it was because he was too bored, and they discovered his genius intellect at that time. Now it was because he was too smart, and the older kids didn't like it that a six year old was besting them in class. That led to fights, and always ended with Hiro looking like he was a human punching bag.

Today, it was because he had gotten bored again in class, and the fifth graders weren't too thrilled with the idea that a seven year old was already trying to do pre-algebra while they struggled with fractions. He couldn't help being put in an advanced class, or that he was part of the gifted program. There were some days that he wondered how bad it would be to pretend like he was just like everyone else. He'd be bored out of his mind, yes, but he wouldn't be getting the crap kicked out of him every time he turned around, either.

The secretary handed him another tissue, and Hiro took it gratefully, knowing he had to look a mess. Shoving the tissue up his nose, he glanced over to the other kid, who mostly had a fat lip and a bruise forming along his cheek. Hiro had to be proud of that. After all, he was small for his age, and to be able to reach the other boy's face was an accomplishment, as well as a quick calculation of trajectory and momentum. The other kid literally couldn't have guessed that Hiro was smart enough to time when his face just happened to be low enough for Hiro to punch.

It really didn't help that he had no friends, either. Everyone couldn't keep up with him, and he had been advanced so often in the last three years that he was already about to leave elementary school and move on to middle school. All the other kids his age were in second grade at best, and all the older kids didn't like having him show them up. He could already read at a high school level, and was already doing math that was beyond them. Science was a breeze for the young genius too, and everything he did, he always aced everything they threw at him. Honestly, it also had the adverse side effect of alienating him from everyone else.

He sighed, swinging his legs and hunkering down, crossing his arms. That was another problem, one that every specialist they sent him to told him. He had an attitude problem, and it wasn't getting better with age. At least that's what everyone said. Hiro couldn't see what the problem was. It wasn't like he asked for people to shun him, or his intelligence. What could have gotten him adopted out of foster care however was also preventing him from being adopted in the first place. Everyone wanted to have the cute, adorable, smart kid. They didn't want the kid that could outthink them at every turn, nor did they want a troublemaker.

He sighed, wondering how much trouble he was going to be in, and whether he was going to have to pack his bags again. This was the fifth fight he'd been in this year, and the year wasn't even halfway over. No, he was dreading having to go home and face his foster parents. He knew they were going to send him away.

Hiro slammed his locker shut hard, not wanting to be harsh, but knowing that he was frustrated. He'd been advanced again, and the nine year old was looking at the fact that next year, he was going to be starting high school. Same problems, different schools. That's how it always worked out for him. That's how it always worked out for him every time.

At least this foster family was decent, he surmised. They'd had him for five months, and the mom was okay, even if she didn't understand him some days, while the dad had taken to arguing in his favor. They at least understood that he had a lot of problems that stemmed from his intellect.

Hiro moved to walk to his next class when he stopped short. An arm had been thrown out in front of him, blocking his path, and he looked over to see an eighth grader standing there, a sucker clenched in his mouth. Damn it. He just wanted to go to class. "Hey, Takachiho, where do you think you're going?"

"To class. I have computer lab this period." Hiro moved to go past the kid when the guy's other arm moved to trap him in place. Damn. This was not how Hiro wanted to deal with today. He had avoided fights so far this year, and he wanted to continue that trend.

"I don't think so. I think you want to go to your locker instead. It's not like you're welcome in many other places, after all." Hiro took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that the kid was harassing him in the middle of the hallway, with classrooms on either side, and someone was bound to notice this. Right? "You're just gonna turn around and go right back to your locker and open it up for m-"

The kid didn't get a chance to say much else. Hiro had done this same song and dance for so many years now that he did what was basically second-nature now. He brought up his textbook and slammed it into the other boy's face, and then took off running. The prevailing thought that ran through his head was get to class, get to class, because he knew his computer teacher didn't appreciate the rampant bullying that was going on with Hiro.

His assailant had longer legs, and it showed as the older boy managed to catch up with him and grab him by the hoodie. Hiro thrashed, trying to get out of the boy's grip, while he knew there was a circle of other kids surrounding them. Waiting for a fight. He knew it was going to happen, and he clenched his jaw, waiting for the first fist to be thrown.

That never happened. Apparently his computer teacher had been patrolling the halls between classes, and had come across the scene. "Mister Smith! Mister Takachiho! Just what is the meaning of this?"

"He jus' smacked me wiff his tex'book!" Hiro glanced back, and sure enough, the older boy was holding his nose and blood was leaking through his fingers. The sucker had been lost sometime in between trapping Hiro and catching up with him, and the young boy felt a slight bit of grim satisfaction at the sight. Maybe this might teach him not to harass Hiro again.

"Well Mister Smith, I think we're going to have a talk with the principal. Now. You don't even have your books for next period yet." Hiro nearly cheered, that is, until his teacher speared him with a look as well. "You too Mister Takachiho. I can't believe this."

Hiro merely winced and made his way down to the office with the older boy. Sure, he knew that he had won that fight, but he didn't know how much his family was going to appreciate the fact that he had yet again been in another fight.

Hiro always had anxiety regarding cars. He could never explain it, though at some point he had asked if he had been in any accidents. The response had been an uncomfortable yes, back when he was three and his birth parents had died. Hiro never asked for the details, since he was certain that he had semi-vivid nightmares regarding that crash.

However, that didn't stop the dream-like state he found himself in. Ten years old, and he was strapped into his seat, and his head was ringing, and he felt something wrong with the situation. He groaned, holding his head and looking around, trying to assess the situation. He was still strapped into his seat. It had been raining. There was something flashing in his vision. And the foster family he had been staying with, the one that had mentioned that they might adopt him, were slumped in their seats.

Something caught in his throat, something between a cry and a moan, escaped his lips. His breathing hitched as he realized they weren't breathing. He didn't know how long he had been out, only that he had a ringing in his ears and his breathing was going erratic and he was certain he was having a panic attack.

Head down. Breathe. He tried that, tried counting to ten, tried taking slow deep breaths as he realized that he had, once again, been in a car accident. And he was, yet again, the sole survivor. Tears started forming in his eyes, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. He'd been with them now for a year and a half, and they had been good people. He couldn't understand it. Why again? Why him? Why them?

The questions chased themselves around in his head, and he was hyperventilating now, and he couldn't stop. His head started spinning, and he could almost imagine another time, another place, where someone was mumbling that Hiro was worse off, that they should take care of him first. However, when he looked to the side, no one was there.

Hiro stared at the large building, his large brown eyes taking in the sight before him. It was his first day at high school, and he already felt lost. It had been less than two weeks before that had stolen his foster family from him, and he had yet again been shunted off to another family, one that had decided that he wasn't going to stay long. Hiro could almost feel sick and wondered how bad it would be if he just skipped. He had an excuse, and he could make up the work. He could easily do that in his sleep. He swallowed, and tried to imagine the Davenports, his last family, and remind himself that they had tried hard for him, and he couldn't just ignore that.

Taking a deep breath, he started forward, ignoring the looks that he was getting and making his way to the office. He had to, in any case. They were going to assign a senior to help him with getting adjusted, and Hiro didn't want that, but he couldn't really stop it either. The school had heard about his past problems and decided it was the best course of action.

When he got to the office, he was directed to a seat and told that his senior escort would be along shortly, so Hiro took it and shifted awkwardly. He could see older students poking their heads in curiously, and Hiro felt like a freak. He wasn't on display for them. He just wanted to get done with school so that he could be done with it all. He didn't want to be in school longer than he had to. He had already made it his goal to work as hard as he could to graduate, and he didn't see that stopping anytime soon.

He was getting antsy with all the stares he was getting, and he shrunk down a bit, trying hard not to be noticed. However, that was soon shattered. "Hey, what's going on here? I mean, really? You're just going to gawk at the poor guy? Unbelievable…"

Hiro glanced up, and blinked as an older teen walked into the office, staring down everyone else and shooing them away from the office. Some tried to linger, but the guy had his arms crossed and managed to scatter them before they got any ideas. He then turned around, and Hiro finally got a good look at him.

Black hair like his. Same eye color as well. The guy seemed to have some height on him though, and he had a baseball cap perched atop his head. Honestly, Hiro could imagine that the guy was a geek with a capital G all right. Something about the guy just screamed it.

"Mister Hamada, please take off your cap inside the building. You know school rules." The secretary looked slightly bored as she said this, and the teen blushed a bit before swiping it from his head.

"Oh, um, sorry. Forgot about it." The teen's eyes drifted to Hiro, and Hiro shifted a bit under it. "So, you're Hiro Takachiho, right? Man, you're a lot shorter than I thought you'd be."

"I'm ten, of course I'm short." Hiro hadn't meant for it to sound snarky, but it came off that way. "Besides, what are you? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Actually I'm turning sixteen later this year. Skipped a couple of years in elementary school, so I kind of have some experience with not quite fitting in." The older teen gave a lopsided smile, and reached out his hand. "Tadashi Hamada. Welcome to high school, Hiro."