His name was Mizuki and the very next thing he said to me was, "Whoa, you took both those guys out by yourself?"

His face was plastered with a huge, charming smile despite the situation we were in and I wondered if that were just his default setting. It reminded me of the smile Virus always wore around me. But this man didn't look dangerous at all; he looked more like the kind of person who would get right in your face and say "Do you wanna join my gang?" then apologize for invading your personal space.

He waited patiently for me to speak, even as I choked on my voice the first few times. His patience reminded me of the way the Alpha's treated me which was a comforting contrast.

"They deserved it," I mumbled defensively.

"Oh don't worry; I believe you," he said. "Guys like this – they're always picking on a friend of mine. Where'd you learn to do that anyway?"

"I didn't learn – it can't really be taught."

I didn't understand what I'd said to make him laugh, but it was so different from what I knew. This was nice. It didn't promise suffering later to come, it was just there.

"So uh – where are you heading?" he asked me, "I mean, I can walk you there if you want – guys like that won't bother you if you're with me."

He averted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck while waiting for my answer.

"Thank you," I said, "But I – I wasn't heading anywhere. I have nowhere to be."

"Nowhere to be," he echoed, as though the words had several possible meanings. He looked at me as though seeing me for the first time – when it was actually the second – and said, "I was just heading back to Black Needle, the tattoo studio," he trailed off for a moment before, "why don't you come with me? I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind inking you free of charge."

"Oh, I don't think I want a tattoo," I said. I watched his face fall slightly.

I knew I couldn't go with him, even if he was completely harmless. But as soon as I made the decision to decline his offer, a wave of guilt crashed over me.

Mizuki was only trying to be nice. Why did I have to be so mean and untrusting?

"B-but I'd love to come with you – if you'll still let me," I stammered.

"Of course!" his smile was back full force.

He reached out to grab my arm but stopped when my whole body tensed up and I took several steps back.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

I tried to tell him it was fine – that I was the one at fault – but he brushed it off and said boundaries were important. What a strange concept.

The town was a lot nicer with Mizuki guiding me through it.

He was right; a lot of people steered clear of us while others went out of their way to approach us. They would talk to Mizuki for a few moments before they noticed me and something dawned on them causing them to abruptly leave.

A few of them smiled and greeted me as well, but eventually they all backed off.

"Ah, I'm sorry about them," Mizuki said after the fourth time we were interrupted. "I guess it was false advertising when I said nobody would bother you."

"They're not bothering me," I said quietly. "I think it's nice that you have so many friends."

Of course I knew that wasn't the best word to describe them, if the Rib tattoo beneath Mizuki's eye was anything to go by.

"Uh yeah," he flashed me that brilliant smile again and said, "Actually most of them are part of my Rib team."

In response I said, "You're still a part of Rib?" as if I didn't already know, "I was certain Rhyme was the most popular thing now."

Mizuki's expression soured at the mention of Rhyme.

"So you're a rhyme player?" he asked.

"No," I quickly said, hoping it would be enough to appease him. "It's just – something I heard about."

"Ah," again his smile quickly returned, "So you're not part of either, right? Well you know, my Rib team is the biggest of them all – not that I'm trying to convince you to join or anything –"

I surprised both of us right then by cutting him off with a stifled giggle. The sound escaped me before I even felt it bubbling inside my throat, while tears pooled around the corners of my eyes. Like my body couldn't decide whether to be terrified or amused.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I tried to hide my puffed up cheeks and smile behind my hands.

His eyes widened a fraction and he turned his head slightly.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked. "I mean, those guys didn't do anything to you did they?"

"Are you kidding? They didn't even get close," I said.

We continued to walk through the town, talking on and off about nothing in particular while he led me through a mix of main and side streets. After a while we stepped into a crowded street, flooded almost entirely with women.

"We probably shouldn't go this way," Mizuki said, more to himself than to me. He mumbled under his breath about semi-psychotic fangirls and some guy named Koujaku.

I had no problem with the change of direction – he was the expert not me – but as we changed course I was sure I could feel Aoba's presence somewhere amidst the swarm of women.

Was it too much to hope that this time he felt it too?


Late afternoon sunlight melted quickly into an early evening haze.

Mizuki was quick to lead me back to the Black Needle after our change in direction.

There were tons of people hanging around outside, sitting on the stairs leading down to the door, and the space beyond that. People had to lean over to make room for us down the stairs and I tried not to think of how easy it would be to fall, when my legs brushed against people's arms or shoulders.

I stood stone still with their eyes on me; sizing me up. Some appeared friendlier than others but I knew not to believe their expressions – instead I searched for hidden intentions in their eyes.

I walked closer to Mizuki, treating him as I would Virus or Trip. I had a firm belief that even if they hurt me, they wouldn't let others do the same and placing the same belief onto Mizuki gave the situation a familiar feel.

"Hey Mizuki, who's the guy?" one of the women seated on the stairs called out.

"Not a guy," I mumbled.

Mizuki looked back at me.

"You're not?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"But – you –?"

His eyes lingered a little too long on my chest and he looked away, a small blush on his face.

Truthfully I'd never identified with either gender more than the other. It was something I'd read about when I was younger – something the Alpha's helped me understand better about myself. But I'd never been in a position where that information was relevant – it was interesting to see Mizuki's reaction – or adamant un-reaction.

"What are you then?"

"I'm just Sei."

The people around us lost interest quite quickly, even the woman who'd asked about me. Mizuki tried his best to deal with this new revelation, and led me to the door.

There was a large neon-blue sign hanging over it, boasting the name of the place, and a much smaller sign on the door itself which read closed, but clearly not to everybody.

He stepped inside and flicked on the lights, waiting patiently while I decided what I wanted to do. He didn't stare or pressure me to make up my mind, but pretended instead to be occupied with other things until I came inside.

The walls were purple and plastered with scores of tattoo designs, even the surface of the counter and its' slightly smaller walls were covered almost completely. There was a bar on the opposite side of the room, taking up an entire corner and lit up with more neon lights. Glasses hung upside down and the shelves behind the bar were lit up with a blue backlight.

It was nothing like the clubs in Platinum Jail, which I'd heard Virus and Trip describe. This was nothing like home at all.

"So this is it; Black Needle, official HQ of my Rib team Dry Juice," Mizuki stated, "This is just the waiting room – there's a studio in the back if you change your mind."

His smile didn't waver this time when I bowed my head and mumbled, "No thanks."

We were the only ones inside and I found myself thinking this was the perfect set up. But the walls stayed where they were and nobody came in to drag me back to Oval Tower.

Mizuki got behind the bar while I continued to look around.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked me. "Wait, you're eighteen, right?"

"Older," I mumbled, not sure if he heard me.

I hadn't ever drunk before so when he gestured for me to sit at the bar I just stared at him dubiously.

"It's not poison," he said, giving me a crooked smile, "promise."

Again I was faced with the choice to either decline and feel terrible, or keep him happy by doing something I didn't want to do.

"You don't have to," he continued, "I mean; I don't want to get you drunk. But maybe if you relaxed a little you could tell me why you came to this part of Midorijima."

"Maybe I live here," I said quietly.

"But you don't."

I frowned. I could live in this part of the island.

Mizuki pushed a glass in front of me which looked like it was full of water, but when I tried it – attempting to down it all at once – it felt more like fire pouring down my throat. I didn't realize I was coughing until I felt his hand on my lower back and heard his voice right in my ear.

"You'll end up killing yourself if you drink so fast," he said. The next glass he pushed into my hands was water.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "That was my first drink"

"Really?" he asked. "You sure you're over eighteen?"

I nodded and watched him go back behind the bar.

"I haven't been exposed to many things," I explained.

"Ah, you're one of the lucky ones," he hummed. He started messing around with the bottles behind him, looking at the labels until he found what he was looking for. "Want to try again? This one won't burn so much."

I nodded and said, "Okay," knowing that the time to leave had come and passed. "But, not by myself."

That carefree smile was back again.

"Of course not; where's the fun in that?"

He poured two very small glasses of the new drink – this one was bright green – and pushed one towards me, downing his own like it was nothing. With the burning taste of the last glass still fresh in my throat I was a tad wary, but Mizuki said nothing. He waited patiently while I dipped my finger into the small glass and lifted it to my mouth to have a taste.

He was right, it didn't burn, and it filled my mouth with a sweet taste which the last drink lacked.

I followed Mizuki's lead, tipping my head back and pouring the shot into my mouth. My throat closed for a second, refusing to take it down without a little push and I found that while it didn't taste bad, it felt terrible.

Mizuki laughed at the scrunched up face I was making.

"Cute," he cooed.

"I don't like it," I said. I sighed and looked towards the ceiling, already feeling a little numb. "This isn't where I thought I'd end up today."

"Oh?" he asked. The rest of his question remained unvoiced.

I shook my head and pushed the empty glass towards him. I wasn't drun–relaxed yet.

We continued the same routine over and over again. Take a shot, ask a question, get shot down, and repeat. I started to feel it affecting me quite quickly. His questions were usually related to why I was there, where I was going, if I was in trouble, but I did a valiant job of deflecting him.

Then after what must've only been the eighth shot I decided to turn the tables.

"Okay – okay, but what about you? What were you doing in that alley?" I asked him, "and why," hiccup, "Why – why did you help me?"

Mizuki shrugged, avoiding eye contact with me.

"I heard you scream – I thought you might be in trouble."

"No – no I didn't –" I started to say, but a vision quickly stole my voice.

Not one of me in the alley with those men, but a 13 year old version of me dressed in a teal hospital gown, bare feet clenching against floors where blood hid beneath lavender disinfectant. A man approached, holding a syringe, his shiny smile the only notable feature as the rest of him was shrouded in black. I tried to push further into the wall – to disappear – to force my heart to beat so fast that it stopped and killed me.

A scream left my throat, "stay away from me!" just as it had in the alley before I'd unleashed scrap on those two men. But like most horrible memories I tried not to remember it.

"Hey, you okay?" I felt a hand on my shoulder and pushed it away, falling from my seat onto the ground.

"Don't –don't touch me," I bit out.

My feet clawed at the ground, trying to escape whatever fresh hell I'd been pushed into.

The alcohol in my system blurred the room, making it harder to find an exit. If I found one I would run – this time I would really do it.

"Sei, it's alright," a voice called, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Like I hadn't heard that before.

My back hit a wall and I pulled my knees up against my chest, burying my head in the space there. Tears soaked into my hands quickly, and saturated the fabric beneath my fingers.

I could hear a distant sound – not a voice just a sound. Like clapping but duller; without that sharp edge. The pace was really fast to begin with and I was sure my heart was pounding at the same rate but it gradually began to slow down and I found myself tapping the same rhythm into my skin. Eventually it slowed so much that I was reminded to breathe normally. When my breathing regulated to a deep in and out pattern, that voice from before spoke up.

"Sei it's not real," it said, "it can't hurt you."

I looked up, my eyes blurred this time by tears. I blinked a few times until I was able to focus and see Mizuki sitting in front of me, his hands still moving in the same rhythm I was breathing to. I was rushed back to reality.

It was just a memor – just a nightmare.

I was safe. Safe.

Mizuki seemed to realize I was back from wherever I'd gone, and started to apologize for invading my personal space, only to stammer to a stop when I launched myself into his arms and started to cry again. The familiar clouds of guilt and shame burst over me as they usually did when I couldn't control myself.

Slowly I felt his arms wrap around me, softly as though not sure what would set me off again.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed into his chest.

"D-don't be," he whispered into my hair.