Mornings in the Yamada household were a bitch.

Bitch might've been too strong of a word. Or too weak. Either way, Edge felt it adequately described the situation. Fortunately, he hadn't encountered any of his family yet, keeping it from being a total bitch. Maybe if he was lucky, he could get out of the house without one chance meeting of a relative.

But that would be if and when it happened. For now, Edge laid back and simply enjoyed his bath. Rendered wet by the shower beforehand, his now-loose hair clung to the back of his neck and shoulders and whatever surface the bleached strands could come in contact with. It was his pride and joy; it took nearly an hour a day, every day, to care for, to wash, and to style. Quite a bit of maintenance involved, indeed.

"Eiji!" a voice from outside shouted. "Eiji, are you taking a bath in there? In the morning? You're lucky Mom and Dad left already! Then you'd really be sorry-"

The girl's voice faded as he proceeded to disregard her ranting. Edge - not Eiji, never ever Eiji - sighed. What business was it of hers if he dared to be untraditional?

And why did she insist upon calling him Eiji, anyway? No one else in the entire family did that anymore. Either it was just Edge or he wasn't called by name at all. It pissed him off. He hated that name, and she fucking knew it. Was she trying to piss him off?

"-Eiji, you know they'll be angry when they find out! Water's too expensive to be wasted like that!"

He continued to ignore her. Maybe if she didn't receive a reply, she would just shut up and crawl back to whatever dimension she had been spawned from...

"Eiji? Eiji, are you listening to me? I know you're in there!"

Finally giving in, Edge clambered out of the bath, taking extra care to let the water drain, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist with much haste, then stomped to the door and flung it open.

Right in front of the door stood a wide-eyed dark-haired girl of about nineteen years of age, dressed in blue and black. She - Edge's sister, Mizuki - stared vacantly at him, confused, and he returned this with an equally addled look. He hadn't expected her to be right there.

"Eiji..."

"What?!" he snapped, annoyed with her continued use of the word and not sure what to expect.

"You're dripping all over the floor. Mom will be really mad when she sees it!"

Sighing, Edge walked around her and made a beeline for his room, not wanting to hear it.

"Wasting water and ruining the floor. Just like that. No wonder you're in reform school!" she cried.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. Was that all she ever did?

He still believed that ignoring her was the best path, for the moment at least, and stepped into his room, shut the door, and slowly dried himself off.

"You know what? You made Mom upset just a couple nights ago. She stayed up until one in the morning, worried sick about you because you didn't come home. She cried herself to sleep on the living room floor."

No, no, not listening. Definitely not listening. Pretending not to care was more difficult than he had thought. He wanted to yell, to argue, to ruffle her feathers a bit. But past conflicts had proven that she was not easy to upset. She had one thing he didn't have: an even temper.

"She thought something had happened. That you were dead or something. But it turned out that you're fine, and although you never explained why you were gone for so long, that was enough for her, to know that you're okay."

How many times has she given this speech? Edge found that he had lost count.

"But you don't care, do you? You don't care about anyone. Save yourself. You're a waste of time to talk to, even. You don't listen to anyone if they say something that you don't like. In fact, I bet you're not listening to me right now."

I'm listening. I'm just not listening. Edge smirked at this.

"Of course, Mom's totally in denial. She thinks that once you graduate and get a girlfriend, it'll all be better. Happily ever after. Just like in the stories."

On and on and on. Does she ever stop talking?

"She's just closing her eyes, praying that she doesn't have to watch you slip down the drain. Let's face it. She doesn't want anything to happen to you. Only reason why you're not in prison right now is because of her high-priced lawyers. But if it requires her to do something, that's an entirely different story."

He used to get very angry. Once threatened to stab her, even, during one of her tirades. But he had grown quite numb to her talk. She meant nothing. No one here did. Edge had to force himself to think that. He really was beginning to lose his temper, but didn't want to admit it and struggled to keep it in check.

Gan once asked Edge why he didn't leave his home or hurt his family or something. Had it really been that obvious? Gan even managed to figure it out, he thought ruefully, then tossed the towel onto the floor and began to dress.

"Dad's even more blind than she is. He doesn't want to believe it. He didn't believe it when the lawyers came to the house, Eiji. You didn't notice, but he didn't. Even when they asked you if you stabbed that guy, and you said you did. He didn't believe it."

Truth was, he never quite understood why he didn't do it. Something just held him back. Was it the fear of being alone, the idea that he would have to take care of himself? He didn't know.

"He didn't believe it in the courtroom. He just refused to see his youngest child, trussed up in handcuffs and prison wear, thrust suddenly into the arms of the law. It was your best day. Do you want to go back?"

Gan, of course, had been told the exaggerated version of the truth. They wouldn't hurt him. Maybe that was why he stayed. It was the single constant in a big, changing world.

Finally done with dressing, he left his room and headed for the bathroom again. Once he was firmly planted in front of the mirror and sink, he began to start on his hair.

"Three months. That's all. Three months in a jail. Didn't take them long, eh? Do you want to go back there? Or are you ready to graduate to the big leagues?"

He didn't argue with her anymore. That only tensed the situation. Not that he cared about pissing her off, but tensing the situation only made it more likely that he would be kicked out. That already had happened one too many times...

But sometimes, an argument just couldn't be helped.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?!" he spat, thoroughly vindictive. He dropped his hands and left his hair alone for the moment. No one talks to me that way! No one!

"Eiji-"

His temper finally unable to handle it anymore, he blew up. "Don't call me that!" he yelled. "You know I hate it! So stop it!"

If it had been anyone but a family member, he would've spared the warning and torn into them by now. Literally. She's so damn lucky...

"Then what am I supposed to call you? Edge? Edge isn't even a name."

"I don't fucking care! Don't call me that name!" That arrogant bitch... She doesn't have the right to call me that! No one does! I decide what my name is!

The irony of the situation escaped Edge.

"What should I call you, then? I'm not calling you Edge."

"That does it!" He advanced on Mizuki, a crazed look in his eye. "I'm so inferior to you, you think, eh? If you're so much better than I am... Then why are you always the one complaining?!"

"Who's complaining?"

"You are, you moron! Get off your damn pedestal and do whatever you damn please! Just keep your damn holier-than-thou bullshit outta this!"

A tense moment of silence enveloped the room; Edge still held his eyes to her, and she stared back, more than a little surprised. This lasted for several seconds until he finally spoke again, this time in a hushed tone.

"So leave me the fuck alone."

Stunned, Mizuki backed out of the bathroom and down the hall. Edge returned his attention to his hair again, running gel-coated fingers through it in upward motions, but he could hear a conversation taking place.

"Mizuki, did Edge flip out again?" a voice asked.

"Sort of. It wasn't as bad as it used to get, though."

Edge snorted. Idiot siblings. I can heeeeeeear you, you know.

"Okay. In any case, you should be leaving. Your first class is going to start in twenty minutes."

Mizuki gasped. "Oh no, I forgot! I'm gonna be late!" Footsteps pounded a path that led out the door, a door quickly opened and slammed shut. Within seconds, a car revved up and sped off into the distance, so that the rumble of the motor was no longer audible.

Edge began to snicker. She deserves it. Meddling with my business, he thought, then finished with the gel ten minutes later.

It was time for the hairspray.

A quarter of a can of hairspray later, Edge returned to his room to choose out some knives to bring. I'm bringing a whole army of them, he thought gleefully. That'll show those bastards!

Upon trashing his room... more so than it was already trashed, this hope quickly died, as he only was able to find eight knives among the mess. He kept them in boxes located in various places in the room, but could only locate one of them. He lacked the time to search the entire room, too.

Disappointed, and with four knives in his jacket (the rest in his pockets), he trudged out of the room and to the kitchen to get a quick breakfast.

Unfortunately, his brother Kei sat at the table, and he had to walk by him. Ugh.

But Kei rarely spoke, being a far cry from the conversational sort, so at least there would be no conversation. Yet.

Having passed the sitting Kei, who was in the process of rapidly leafing through a newspaper, Edge swung open the refrigerator door and removed an orange; with a few quick slices from a kitchen knife (it would be embarrassing to fight with a knife encrusted with fruit, he reasoned; not to mention stupid, even though it'd probably sting to have an open wound touch citrus), the peel fell to pieces around the fruit. Then it found itself separated into slices; it was gone within ten seconds.

I was hungry, after all, he rationalized, then headed back out into the dining room, where Kei still sat. Edge sat away from him, far far away into the distance of the living room. Only the rustle of the paper and the incessant ticking of the clock could be heard.

"So, Edge," Kei started - at least he called him Edge, but why was he talking to him? - slowly, "I heard you arguing with Mizuki again today."

"So?!" It's none of your damn business, he thought, scowling.

"So nothing. I was just commenting."

Good ol' apathetic Kei. He never gave a damn about anything. He was, in a word, tolerable.

"Just making conversation?"

"Suppose so."

"Ah, okay."

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah."

"Whatever."

This is getting stupid, Edge thought, and decided not to reply to Kei. The lucky bastard. He could sit around all day watching movies and say that he went to school...

In any case, the hour hand on the clock fast approached nine, so it was time to leave, anyway. He left the house, confident that he would win the fight tonight, especially with backup.

Gan is so gonna agree with me...

"Edge, I can't help you."

"Whaaaaaaaat?!"

He had waited in classes for three hours just to hear this? No help? He would've thought that Gan would've wanted to join in. He liked to fight.

Realizing that shouting "what" wasn't that good a reply, Edge added to it. "Gan, why not? It's a fight and all. I thought you'd want to join in."

"Edge, the Soubanchou wouldn't approve of going into a situation like this for no reason."

Silence followed, the silence of Edge silently cursing Daigo's "no getting into fights without a reason" deal. He wanted to fight, dammit! What was so wrong about that?

And furthermore, how had Gan managed to remember that? He wasn't supposed to remember stuff like that!

To make matters worse, he wouldn't be able to find anyone else. If Gan said no, would anyone else say yes? Of course not. If Gan said no, then it had to be a bad thing.

But this did not stop Edge from pressing on.

"Yes he would! He'd say, 'Gan, fighting without purpose is wrong, but if Edge says it's okay, then it must be'."

Gan swallowed down yet another mouthful of rice, it being lunchtime and all, before answering. "No he wouldn't."

"Of course he would! He trusts my judgement!"

"He does not. In fact, he told me not to listen to you."

Dammit...

Now this was truly vexing. When did Gan not like to fight? When did he not listen to Edge?

When he knew that Daigo'd be angry about it.

Dammit!

It was a lost cause. Now officially in a bad, bad, bad mood, Edge left the cafeteria and, subsequently, the school, not wanting to deal with it.

Gan blinked. "Edge's classes are over at noon?"

"Katsumi, did you get the recordings here?"

"Sure did, Zaki. They won't even know what hit them."

Zaki presumably grinned under that mask of hers. "Good. Knife boy-"

"You mean the walking fashion mistake?" Katsumi interjected.

Sigh. "Yes, that's the one."

"Right."

"Anyway, he'll pay. They don't realize what's going on, do they?"

"Nay. They don't."

"They've got a surprise coming to them."

Footsteps approached rapidly. If we're seen, Katsumi thought, this is the end of the line for us.

However, they quickly crept across the rooftop of Gedo and leapt onto the wall surrounding it. Reporting to Yokai was imminent. No one noticed their departure, nor did anyone see the equipment left behind.

Not even the janitor.

"Checkmate." The tall young man smiled slyly at his newfound victory.

"So that's how you plan to do it?"

"Naturally. The boys down at Gedo are like pieces just aching to be manipulated. 'Pick me, pick me,' they cry."

"Are you sure about that? Daigo is quite the leader-"

"Daigo's not an issue. You know that. He can't keep everyone there in control."

"I suppose so, Yokai... But are you sure it will work?"

"I'm sure." Yokai nodded quite forcefully. What is this? Discontent?

"Shunichi," he added, "do you doubt me?"

"Um, no. Why?"

"If you don't doubt me, then don't act like you do."

Ah, the Akuseizama gang. The gang of mystery and wonder, so to speak. Yokai led up the bunch of discontents - all formerly associated with Gedo, it was rumored by a few talkative people - and he wanted to knock Gedo down something fierce. Though only through say-so. Just rumors, after all. No one was totally certain that they existed.

Save for its members.

Yokai, the great tactician. Tall and broad, he looked powerful, but unfortunately, he had quite the wide cautious streak through him. Had Daigo once knocked him down to size (of course rumor had it), and this was the end result? Nobody knew. No one dared ask.

Shunichi, small and proud, a manipulative little fucker if anyone was. He could turn anything to his advantage if he so cared to do so. An extremely perceptive boy (him being Yokai's advisor of sorts was proof to this fact), he had one glaring flaw: a tendency to go overboard with an authority that wasn't there. He sometimes didn't listen to Yokai. He knew better.

Three pairs of footsteps signaled Nikki, Katarou, and Dake's entrances into the barren Teshoka warehouse. Each of them had their reputations, too.

Nikki had no truly astonishing physical traits, save for a pair of piercing red-violet eyes that could cut through steel if they so cared to. Carrying a penchant for violence and a love for money, his zeal shone through his being. He might've hated Daigo, too; what else could've caused him to be so devoted?

Katarou, contrary to the stereotype he had due to his imposing height, was surprisingly intelligent. He knew mathematics like a... mathematician knew mathematics. Or something. He could also probably crush a ripe papaya with those huge hands of his.

No one spoke of Dake, no rumors milling about him, no distinguishing traits to set him apart from the crowd. He liked it that way. He was a sycophant of a chameleon and wasn't too proud to admit it. Let the others hog the glory.

Some feared them. Of course, there were those who insulted them. Especially the talkative Taku, Gedo's favorite funfunhappy pyro boy. His words could burn just as well as his lighter.

So, we're the Yakuza's favorite sex toys, are we? That shows how much he knows! We haven't even been approached by them for anything!

Yes, rumors came in all shapes and sizes, good and bad.

"Nikki," Yokai asked the newcomer, "did you talk to Zaki yet?"

"Yeah." His reply was oddly devoid of emotion. "We talked. She's certain Edge Yamada whatever is gonna come here alone. He couldn't get anyone to come with him."

Yokai and Shunichi exchanged smiles. "Good."

There stood the Teshoka warehouse, rat-infested and obviously abandoned ages ago. It was probably condemned, but whoever the fuck decided it'd be a good day to challenge Edge had probably taken down the sign or whatever the hell they put on condemned buildings to declare their... condemned-ness.

Was this supposed to be scary? Edge almost yawned at the prospect.

Not bothering to knock, he just walked on in. What did it matter to him if he interrupted some beating or murder or drunken orgy of doom? They told him to be here at eight, and damned if he wasn't gonna be here at eight.

This would be fun.

What faced him as he entered wasn't totally unexpected. A group of thugs stared him down, including that moron who had challenged him. He returned the stares with the Stare.

"I assume you're Edge," the young man, behind the broken-down desk with a game board of some kind resting on it, said. The others - all four, five, six of them - cackled in unison, in anticipation.

Oh great. Someone here thinks they're in a spy movie. Or a bad kung fu movie.

"Of course I am."

And this is the part where they shut the door behind-

The door slapped shut.

Wow, Edge thought. I could be psychic!

"Edge, you know why you're here. Do you think you could still take us?"

Edge grinned a cocky grin. "Uh, yeah, I kinda do!"

The young man's - the leader's - face contorted into a frown. "I am Yokai. It was Nikki who challenged you."

He then noticed Nikki, the challenger, again. Bastard. It would feel good to kick this guy's ass.

Nikki smirked. "I've been looking forward to this-"

"But he will not be the one fighting you."

"What?! But Yokai..."

"No, I thought it better if we had Zaki handle this piece of trash."

Zaki? Who's Zaki?

"That's right." He heard the scratchy sound of metal scraping on metal as... a fist tightened around a chain... behind him?

He whirled to see her. She was a tall girl, no Natsu, but tall; spiked pink hair tied into a ponytail, clad in dark blue and white, a mask covering the bottom half of her face, a chain resting in her hand... She may've been just a girl, but Akira could be called the same, and as he very well knew, Akira was also quite capable of kicking ass. Maybe this... Zaki could, too.

Then it hit him.

The clothing she wore... Wasn't that the uniform of that all-girls' academy... What was it called...

"You're a Seijun student, right?"

"Of course I am."

The others grew quiet, leaving only Edge and Zaki to speak.

"What's a Seijun girl like you doing in a place like this? I thought that school was rich 'n all..."

If not for the mask, he could've sworn that Zaki was grinning at that.

"A girl's gotta pay for tuition somehow."

With this, she attacked.

"I hope I'm not too late!"

Tori Kimura dashed down the beaten sidewalk, alone and seemingly confused. Her red hair, that of the element of fire, indicated that she had an equally fiery personality. This was true, but she hated being told so; after all, hair color was a stupid way to judge someone. She dressed in a simple blouse and skirt - to the knees, because her mother wouldn't let her leave the house otherwise - that bared as little as possible. She just knew something big would happen tonight. Word on the street said so. Her connections told her so.

Which connections? What word on the street? Ha, the nonexistent kind, of course!

Tori was what one would call a strange girl. Often preoccupied with some "higher purpose", she was the terror of the streets, the one who all feared!

Or so she liked to think.

But all the same, a strange girl.

How many fifteen-year-old girls stalked the lower parts of Tokyo in the hopes of finding someone to aid? No sane girl did that. But Tori did. She would protect them all. Just like Ki wanted her to do!

Save for the fact that Ki wasn't real. Tori knew that.

One must embody the ideals of good and justice for all! That is the Ki way! she thought as she neared a building, a warehouse of some sort.

Oh no! A fight's going on in there! I can tell!

Of course, she had no sixth sense; in actuality, she knew about a fight going on from the yelled threats and curses and random impact hitting-type noises and whatnot. She just didn't want to admit it.

Peeking through a crack in the door, Tori caught a glimpse of several people watching two people fight. A random dark-clad girl with a chain - of all things! - in her hand mercilessly pummeled the other combatant, a blond guy dressed in bright colors.

He must be the good guy, because she's dressed in dark, which is evil, and he's dressed in pink and purple, which are happy colors! She'll pay for this!

She felt her chi flare up, then kicked open the door with a mighty bang.

"How dare you hurt a poor innocent boy!" she shouted.

Just like in the movies!

It hurt.

It hurt a whole lot.

That fucking chain of that stupid bitch's hurt like hell. It mercilessly struck him again. And again. And again.

Goddammit, this hurt.

Just then, the door was kicked open by some red-headed schoolgirl. "How dare you hurt a poor innocent boy!"

Everything stopped. Zaki's chain thankfully stopped, too.

And they laughed.

Fuck... Not only am I getting my ass handed to me by this... girl, but some other girl just randomly walks in and humiliates me!

"What? What's so funny?"

Nikki smirked at the girl. "You are, Tori. Why do you keep on doing this?"

"Because... I am justice! Yah!" She posed in a stereotypical anime fashion.

"Oh brother," Shunichi muttered. "Not her again..."

"She's been here before?" Zaki asked.

"Yeah, countless times," Yokai rumbled. "Forget it. I don't want to deal with her."

"Why not?"

"Because she," he started, "is too entertaining to beat up. I'm just not in the mood for it now. Just get her out of here..."

"And her boooooyfriend?" Dake chirped.

"Edge, too. Just remember this, Gedo boy." He paused. "You will regret the day you crossed us-"

Edge blinked, staggering to his feet. "But I didn't cross you-"

"Silence! Just remember it. And go." Yokai gestured harshly towards the door.

Tori looked over at him. "Let's go, Edge-san!" she cried.

Sighing, he headed out the door, the hyperactive redhead following him.

Step, drag. Step, drag. Damn, his leg hurt. His face was probably battered and bruised, and his hair was mussed.

Tori, on the other hand, skipped down the street, triumphant for who-knows-what-reason.

"Hooray!" she cheered. "Once again, Tori has saved good and defeated evil!"

What the fuck? "You didn't really do anything."

"Hey, that's no way to thank your savior!"

Savior? She thinks I owe her?

"You aren't my savior."

She said nothing for a few moments, before replying with, "Isn't this the part where you're supposed to thank me?"

"No," he snapped.

"Awww..." She paused, looking at him for a second. "Hey, wait! Let me see that!"

He stopped, though mostly from surprise, not from an actual desire to be helpful. She grabbed the left side of his collar, gasping when she saw the pin he wore.

The horned black skull, surrounded by a sea of red.

The symbol of Gedo.

"NO! I have been deceived! You're from Gedo High! EVIL!"

Edge sighed, rolling his eyes. "I didn't say I wasn't..."

"You're EVIL!"

Right then, he decided that he wasn't going to take this and began to walk away.

She trailed him still. "Hey, wait up! I'm supposed to beat you up now!"

This is a big fucking waste of my time. He simply ignored her.

"That's mean! Fine, have it your way! I'll get you someday! Your keister is MINE for the kicking!" She dashed off in the opposite direction, into the darkness.

She was probably one of those perky Taiyo girls, he reasoned.

Edge muttered under his breath. "Moron."

Today just had not been his day.