"Yakuza are generally annoyed by the term 'violence group,' since violence can apply to any crime, but it's no surprise they've been termed such when they engage in things like blackmail, extortion, fraud to murder, et cetera. Yakuza leadership is run in a hierarchical order, and the organization demands complete and total devotion from all its members—initiations require incoming members to cut off their little finger to show their dedication. In 2005, there were over 86,000 known members of the Yakuza organization."

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…" The class giggled and snickered as Hana lay sprawled over her arms, mouth slightly ajar while her snore filled the air.

The teacher sighed and turned his head robotically toward her window seat. "Yamada-chan."

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…"

He stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles, and patted Hana's head. "Yamada-chan."

Hana blinked sleepily and lifted her head enough to make eye contact. His face was wide and square, but even in his mid-forties he could still pull off a handsome stare beneath his ruffled light brown locks. He had a certain swagger about him, and most of the students liked it, which was why so many signed up for his class. She smiled despite his dark look. "Sensei?"

"If you're going to sleep, Yamada-chan, maybe you should stop coming to class and stay in bed."

"Don't be silly, sensei. If I miss too many classes, I'll get kicked out." She smiled goofily and laid her head back down. "But I have to get at least six hours of sleep; otherwise I'll doze off in my photography and film class. Sorry, Takaguchi-sensei, but it's an absolute must—"

Suddenly, Hana felt claw-like fingers clasped firmly around her neck, and he shook her rapidly back and forth. "Then get your sleep at home and not in the damn classrooooom! Do you think I'm just going to put up with this every day? HUH?"

"Can't—breathe—"

"Just a little asphyxiation to help you sleep, you damn slacker!"

Hana rubbed absently at her neck as she walked campus. Way for Takaguchi to overreact. It wasn't like she disrupted anything important. Why did they honestly need to know anything about Yakuza? Was the school planning to recruit for the Yaks after graduation? No? Then who gave a shit? She pouted her lip and continued massaging. "Yarō," she mumbled under her breath.

"Well, well, well," a voice weaved through the air straight into Hana's spine, stopping her dead. The speaker was a fellow freshman girl dressed to kill in hip-hugger jeans and black pumps. Her long, dyed, dirty blonde hair hung in curls over her shoulders and down her slender back. She approached the immobile Hana with a sly grin. "If it isn't the infamous Sleeping Beauty."

Hana's fingers subconsciously coiled into fists, but she somehow kept her voice even. "Asako-chan."

Asako placed her hands strategically on her curvy hips. Everything she did, she did like she posed for a camera. "I heard you still haven't submitted your piece for the competition. Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Hana forced a smile. "Perfection takes time."

Asako lifted her eyebrows sarcastically. "Are you photoshopping?" Two girls flanking her laughed, but, though their reaction made her smile victoriously, it was apparent she didn't need their reinforcement to feel triumphant. Hana didn't respond.

"Let me make things clear for you, Hana-chan. Suffer no delusions, I will win this competition, and when my work is displayed in the gallery, I'll have my father make certain that your work is never seen again." She titled her head sweetly. "Ever."

Hana returned the pleasant façade. "How? Is he going to gauge everyone's eyes out?"

Asako's smile dropped, but her attitude didn't. "You're out of your league, reject. When I'm done with you, you won't even want to hold a camera again."

"Good thing, too." Hana shook her head and openly looked Asako over. "If I took a picture of the scenery right now, it might make small children cry."

"Funny."

Hana lifted her eyebrows. "I wasn't being funny." She turned and walked away as Asako gawked, but there was one more thing that needed to be done. Never stopping her pace, she turned back. "Asako!" Asako glared. "Good luck in the competition." She deliberately grinned, but, as she turned, it dropped immediately.

She was in very—serious—trouble.

For some reason she had not yet been able to identify, no one was available to give her a camera on short-term loan. Maybe she shouldn't say she had no ideas. Word spread fast in certain branches, and no doubt the demise of her camera hadn't escaped the great Chain of Distorted Knowledge. Whatever the reason for the suddenly scarce population of decent cameras, her problem still remained. So, there was really no other alternative.

She practically stomped down the sidewalk that afternoon in a determined frenzy. There had to be some way to coerce him, but how? Maybe she could try to blackmail him. Then again, she had no protection if he decided to shut her up. No way would one of his friends turn on him, and she doubted she could best any of them. Maybe more civil means would accomplish her goal? Perhaps sweet talk might work. Nah, not likely after her yammering yesterday. The key to a man's heart was through his stomach, so they said, but Tamao didn't seem the sort to be so easily swindled. She could be flirtatious if she wanted.

The thought made her cringe. She didn't want to, not if it was for superficial reasons, but there had to be some way to convince him.

Hana looked up in time to sidestep after nearly colliding with someone. She stopped and watched him continue down the sidewalk then slowly pointed. "Takiya Genji?" He stopped and turned on her, and she beamed. "Oo, it is you! Remember me from yesterday?"

He stared at her for several seconds then nodded. "Serizawa's girl."

She glared and barked, "I'm not his girl."

Genji shrugged and looked away. "Oh."

The hostility vanished, and Hana gave an apologetic smile. "Have you seen Serizawa? I need to talk to him."

He nodded and motioned his arm behind her. "He's at the station." Then he left.

Hana's smile widened, and she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Takiya Genji! You're pretty cute when you're not so angry!" He just waved once without slowing, but she grinned and continued on her way.

Genji was right, not that she really doubted him. Tamao was at the rundown gas station practicing with a huge homemade throwing dart while Tokio stood off to the side, his back to her, and provided humorous commentary. Hana watched Tamao aim and hurl the spear-like piece across the station into the equally homemade dartboard.

Maybe it wasn't so bad being misunderstood as his girl. He was handsome, in an extremely uncouth sort of way, and his look could easily silence any opposition from her growing collage of schemers. It was true hers could hardly be compared to Housen waging war on Suzuran, but she wasn't without her enemies. Many people didn't want to see her succeed, and some had gone to great lengths to make her progress difficult. With someone like Tamao on her side, even if it was just in gossip, many of her adversaries would be dissuaded from picking further quarrels.

But, Tamao was too complicated to use for petty drama.

All the same, no matter how complicated or how handsome, she wouldn't seek fame but would seek justice. So, straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin. "SERIZAWA TAMAO!"

If she didn't know better, she would swear his hair stood up on the back of his neck as he slowly turned toward her. He certainly looked some brand of freaked, and the thought made her smirk as she stomped forward.

"Hana-chan." Tokio smiled nervously and tried to head her off. "What're you—"

"Tokio," she interrupted curtly and held up a silencing finger. "Do us a favor: stand there and keep your mouth shut." She smiled robotically and stopped in front of Tamao, who reverted back to his stony boredom. "Don't waste my time, Serizawa. You know why I'm here."

Tamao shrugged. "Lack of a better idea?"

"I have no patience for your antics, and you're not cute, Serizawa." Actually, he was. Too much so. If he wasn't such an ass, he might be completely irresistible. "I need the money and I need it now." She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers in an expectant manner.

Tamao looked down at her palm then back at her. "You expect me to have eight hundred dollars in my pocket or something?"

"Tokio said you would pay me the money, so cough it up."

"Actually—" started Tokio.

"Tokio," she hissed and shot him a dirty look. "Silence is the key, remember?" Her eyes snapped back to Tamao. "I'm running out of time, yankee, and quite frankly I don't want to waste it on you. Just give me what you owe and stop this runaround. Do you really want me harassing you every day?"

Tamao frowned. "Hm. I see your point."

She tried not to glare further. "Good. Then you also see my necessity for the money. Give it to me."

He shrugged. "I don't have it."

Hana dropped her hand and pressed her tongue against the top of her mouth. Didn't have it? Was anything gonna go her way? "Fine," she replied through tight lips. "I'll make you a deal. I need that money now, but since eight hundred isn't pocket change, we'll split it. I'll come up with a way to make half, and you work on the rest. You can pay me back for the second part later, but I need the camera asap."

"And how do you expect either of us to come up with four hundred dollars in…?"

"Two weeks."

He scoffed. "Two weeks. Would you like me to pull it out of a magic hat?"

"I don't care how you get it, just get it, asshole!" Hana withheld a snarl but couldn't hold back shouldering him out of her way. "And I'll be back every damn day to make sure you're not slacking!"

How indeed was she going to come up with her half? A job was ideal, but there were guidelines. Her school schedule dictated her free time, so the job had to be flexible. She only wanted to work long enough to make the money and no longer; the employer had to be used to short-term commitment. Lastly, and most importantly, it had to pay well and fast. Where else would she come up with heavy cash in such a short amount of time?

Maybe she should have stayed resolute in her demand. But, she didn't really want to irritate him. From her long line of dealing with difficult, uncooperative people, it never served to irritate them beyond manipulation. On the other hand, she couldn't very well let the entire thing slide. If he didn't account for at least half of the payment, now that she knew his name, she could threaten him with legal action. Even if he was a thug or whatever, eventually he'd be caught if he tried shutting her up.

Though she was certain he'd never try that route. He was an ass, but other qualities were noticeable. Hana learned years ago to capture hidden secrets with her camera, but she was equally skilled at finding them with her own eyes. He may be short, but his broad shoulders and focused center of gravity no doubt made him formidable. And his physique wasn't without its leanness. That gaze of his could silence generals and command armies without question.

He was dangerous, if he wanted to be.

He often kept his hands open and barely touched things beyond his fingertips. The power behind them remained lightly harnessed, ready when he needed it but not seeking an opportunity to prove itself; it could be constructive as well as destructive. That scruffy shadow around his mouth, a perfectly sweet and powerfully set mouth, drew out those intense eyes. She had never seen a kind manner of softness, but his single moment of distress at Genji's interference showed her all she needed to know how very tender they could be. If the eyes could be tender, so could the man.

Hana crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the sky. How could a man so obviously destructive give her such uncontrollably comfortable feelings? She was still concerned about what might happen if she pushed too far, but it felt more like a fear of the unknown than fear of him.

"Oie!"

Hana broke from her reverie just in time to run face-first into a signboard. She recoiled from the impact and cupped her face embarrassedly. "Son of a—OW!"

"Are you okay?" A short, portly man scurried out of a building over to her. "Are you hurt? Let me see!" He forced her hands down and inspected her tender nose. "It doesn't look broken. We should put some ice on it anyway just to be sure. Come inside."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose sourly and glared at the offending sign. Then blinked. "'Ginkō's'?" She grinned. "Cha-ching."

Tonight was her first night. She had never worked in a bar before, but the owner said she'd be a natural in no time if she was light on her feet and quick-witted. She liked to think she possessed both of those qualities, at least well enough to make a profit. He gave her enough time to go home and wash up, change, maybe get a small meal, but then come right back.

How did a bar waitress dress? She never actually spent any time in a bar, but it couldn't be that difficult. Playing it safe might be best. Hmm, but then she needed money fast, and good tips needed a little extra effort.

Hana decided on some hip-hugger jeans and a cream, sleeveless blouse with a daring but not immodest neckline. She chose flat-heeled black boots instead of risqué heels. No job was worth that sort of pain. Clean and dressed, she quickly fixed her short, dark caramel hair to swing fashionably but comfortably around her face, intensifying her black eyeliner and light yet sensual makeup. Not bad, if she did say so herself, looking her reflection down in the mirror. "Fight!"

The boss was glad to see her by the time she came back. A flood of clientele swamped in during her absence, and his other waitress called in sick. It was a night for a crash course.

Altogether, she felt she did pretty well. Sometimes she confused the drinks but managed to get through without spilling anything or landing in a catastrophe. She did accidently clock the bartender with her serving pan, but he was a big guy and took the blow good-naturedly. The crowd kept growing as the night got later, and she also noticed a younger crowd began filtering in.

Amongst them, dressed in a familiar, tattered shirt and shorts, was Serizawa Tamao. He entered amidst a frenzy of ordering but caught sight of her only a second after she saw him. She stood rooted on the spot, waiting for drinks, and he stood silently for a few moments. Then he turned slightly and followed his friends to a pool table.

It was a little embarrassing to be caught by him. He probably knew she wasn't a regular employee here; putting the pieces together wouldn't be hard. But she needed the money, so, stuffing her pride into a dark corner, she delivered the drinks then walked over. "Can I get you guys anything?"

The guys with him were the same from the gas station. Great, a further humiliation. "You're the camera girl!" one of the twins grinned. "What're you doing here?"

"And looking so sexy," the other added as he circled her teasingly.

Hana couldn't subdue a blush but squared her jaw. "We're busy tonight. Can I get you something or not?"

Tamao leaned on his pool stick but didn't look at her. "This is how you're comin up with your half?"

She scrunched her nose in a half-snarl. "That's none of your business. I should be asking you what you're doing?" The other guys apparently decided to bow out of the conversation because they all started playing and talking without looking at either of them anymore.

He shrugged. "Are you sure you're cut out for this kinda work? Aren't you from a better part of town than us yankees?"

She didn't like the way he condescended her own accusation. "I can take care of myself. What's it to you? If you'd just give me the eight hundred you owe, I wouldn't have to be here."

"Isn't it against school policy for students to have this kinda job?"

"I'm a college student, I can work wherever I want."

He glanced briefly at her then smirked. "You look decent for an old lady."

Hana stomped her foot. "Oie! I graduated a year early! We're the same age, asshole! Though I doubt we'd be in the same grade even if I hadn't. How did an idiot like you even manage to get into high school?"

"Oie." Tokio interceded now. "Hana-chan, you shouldn't talk about people you don't know anything about."

"What don't I know?" She threw her chin at Tamao but kept Tokio's warning stare. "He destroys private property without asking any questions then refuses to take responsibility for his misconceptions and overreactions. Then he has the balls to insinuate I'm a prudish old woman who can't work a real job? He's the one who doesn't know anything about me, except that I don't tolerate assholes, and if you don't like it, Tatsukawa Tokio, I can ride your ass for his four hundred instead!"

Tamao walked around the table and used his superior physique to back her away from them. He made his shot then straightened. "You shouldn't work here. This sorta place doesn't suit you."

Hana pouted her lip. "I told you, I need the money, and you can't be depended on. I have no choice." She swung around to leave. "If you aren't ordering anything—"

Tamao grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. He kept his eyes on the game but didn't release her. "I'll pay you back for the camera, so quit working here."

She frowned. "Dōshite?"

"Because I said," he replied curtly and released her for another shot.

Hana scoffed. "Nice try, but I'm not that gullible." And she stormed away from them.

He was so infuriating sometimes! Why did all Suzuran students have to be such bastards? Most especially the ones she had to deal with. But her anger was temporarily retracted when an arm slid around her waist and pulled her down into an expecting lap. She blinked up at the grinning middle-aged drunk then swung her arms furiously. "Let go of me!"

"Just one kiss, pretty girl!" He smooched his lips at her and fought her down, drawing closer. "Just one kiss!"

"No!" She slapped at him, but his hold was too strong. "Let go of me!"

The man's head flew back suddenly, and a third arm snaked around her then yanked her free and up against the solid, protective wall of Tamao's body. She clutched his shirt instinctively and pressed herself into the curve of his physique. His arm encompassed her waist, and he glared down at the man. "Keep your hands off my girl."

The man raised his hands defensively. "H-Hey, I didn't realize she was spoken for. Sorry man, let's just call it good from here, huh?"

"Get out."

"Yeah, right, I'm goin!" He stumbled over the furniture, scurried across the room, and tripped out the door.

Tamao turned his head to Hana, who stared at the man's exit silently. "See? You should just quit this job already. Guys like that are gonna bother you all day, every day." He dropped his arm away from her and slipped his hands into his pockets. She didn't relinquish him, or even weaken her hold. People stared, even his own crew, but her grip remained firm. "You're not really my girl, baka. Let go," he barked lowly at her.

She jolted and stepped away, only then realizing that she still clung to him. She cleared her throat and turned away. "I-I have to get back to work." This time, he didn't stop her.