A/N: Here's the next chapter... this one's rather short, but it's short and to the point. I'm setting everything up, you see. I don't predict that this story (as a whole) is going to be very long. I want to see if I can finish it before 10 chapters. I wonder if I can do it...?

Now, without further ado... OH! And Happy Holidays! :)

The Faint Hearted – II

By ancient-relic

-::-

The boy flicked his long silver hair over his shoulder impatiently. No one seemed to believe that he was the innocent party in all this mess. It really had been that stupid excuse for his brother who had started the problem by picking a fight with the biggest idiot in the club. It seemed like he had no sense of self-preservation… that seemed to be the most the logical reason, anyhow.

And of course, being the amazing sibling that he was, he had stepped in, and taken things outside before they caused damage to the restaurant. However, his good intentions stopped there- because the damage he had not done to the restaurant was done to the brute and his buddies, and he ended up getting charged for assault. And then, left sitting here, he wondered just where his good intentions went.

See if he ever helped his brother again.

Speaking of his brother, he craned his head to see him sitting with his father and step-mother in the first row of seats, boringly waiting for the judge and his sentence. His amber eyes were scrutinising his nails, picking imaginary dirt out from under them. The thoughts that were running through his mind were rather predictable… he imagined they were anxiously awaiting his latest… partner.

"This court will come to order. All rise for the Honourable Judge Kawasaki." The bailiff spoke, his voice gruff.

Everyone rose, and an elderly old man hobbled through a door up to his seat. The boy resisted rolling his eyes- because he could tell that despite the judge's old age, his eyesight was incredible. And of course, if the plead was going to go through successfully as community service, than he needed to be as humble as possible.

Shifting in his chair, the boy winced as his skin stretched against the bandage under his white shirt. Bruises and two long, but shallow wounds marred his usually flawless skin where one of the thugs had caught him by surprise, sending him careening into the side of a dumpster where the jagged metal can had torn through his paper-white skin.

"Before we begin," the judge began, looking down his nose and through his glasses at the criminal record in front of him, "Let it be known that this is not your first offence. Do you have anything to say in your defence, before I read my verdict?"

Clearing his throat, he rose, fighting back another wince. The cuts had probably re-opened, but he didn't really care; he had refused stitches. "Your Honour," his deep voice filled the courtroom authoritatively, a talent he had gained from his father. He knew all eyes were on him.

"When we were at the club, my younger brother" he left out half on purpose, "got into a disagreement with another party-goer. When he was outnumbered, I rose to help him, and was physically attacked. In self-defence, I had to fight back. You can see, clearly, that I did not walk away without injury."

The Judge scrutinized him carefully for a moment, before looking down at the paper again. "It says here that the three young men who filed assault charges on you all suffered major bruising, one a broken jaw, one a broken arm, and several broken fingers respectively. Are you trying to tell me that those injuries were the result of self-defense?"

"Your Honour, they pulled two knives on me."

"Hmm." The Judge hummed speculatively. "Very well. This is not your first offence, so you will be sentenced to 600 hours of community service at the hospital where their injuries were looked after to pay off their hospital bills. If you do not complete all of your hours, or are engaged in another fight before your hours are completed, you will be sent to a juvenile detention facility for three months, and will be forced to take an anger management seminar for the duration of your stay. Is that understood?"

"Yes," he kept his voice strong; despite the anger that was filling him. 600 hours, all for his bastard brother? He was going to kill that boy as soon as his time was up. He sent a menacing glare out of the corner of his eye at his sibling, but it was not even acknowledged, as his attention had been claimed by his cell phone.

"Would you and your guardian please sign these papers," Kawasaki said, rising. "Court dismissed."

Shuffling forward to meet with his father, his half-brother and his step-mother, he was greeted by a clap on the back.

"That wasn't so bad, now, was it? Community service!" his father laughed.

"Or else you're being sent to juvie-" his brother sing-songed, tucking his cell phone away. "Wait until everyone hears this,"

"Sleep with your eyes open, bastard," he replied, sending a scathing glare at his brother that silenced his teasing. Marching brusquely past his silent step-mother, he headed towards the doors, waiting for their limo and the rest of his brain-dead family.

tbc.

EDITED: 04/25/10