You never thought your life would end like this. From a large house with immaculate floors to the dirtiest streets of Shinjuku, from elite schools with shiny uniforms to this rat hole full of hopeless faces. You don't belong here. Everyone knows it. The teachers who label you with bored looks. The girls who whisper about you as if you were a broken work of art from another world. The boys who harass you as if it were their God-given right. Like now.

"Go get her bag! There's bound to be something useful in there."

A grin and a hand approaching your skirt.

"Or we can see what's underneath, hmm?"

But before you can react, there's a crash. A dull thud, a strangled cry of pain. The hand on your arm slips away as the guy crashes into the wall, his nose twisted at an unhealthy angle. The other guy staggers back until a fist connects with him, causing his head to snap to the side. Yellow eyes, bored, deadly.

"You're in the way."

The words are cold, but not directed at you. The guys flee without another word, one of them holding his bloody nose. Hanma Shuji stands still for a moment. His gaze falls on you, just once. Then he turns and leaves. His men follow him as if he were a king and they were his loyal dogs. He didn't save you. They were just in the way.