Crows Zero

Chapter Two

Class, class, class—what a nuisance. Life was too short to be forced to waste away in class. Sure, there was the whole bit about it helping for a better and brighter future, but seriously, screw that crap. The present was the only guarantee, and that was all Sumi really cared about as she stared out the window of her classroom.

Sometimes she envied the boys of Suzuran, who basically went to school to do whatever they felt like doing. Then again, they generally left school with more than a few scrapes and bruises, a broken bone here or there, a hospital visit or two per month, and so forth. A person had to pick the lesser of two evils.

"Serizawa-chan."

Sumi blinked and turned her head. "Hm?"

"I asked when was Buddhism first introduced to Japan and by whom?"

"Prince Shōtoku integrated it from China during the Asuka-Nara period, approximately 538 to 794 A.D."

"Good."

Okay, academics was one of her strong points, but her knack for it only made sitting in class even more sacrilegious in her mind.

"Did you hear what happened at Suzuran?" the boy behind her mumbled to a classmate across the aisle.

"What is it this time?" the second whispered back.

"Some new guy said he's gonna beat Serizawa! My brother says he already barged into a class and beat their leader, Chuta Tamura."

"He thinks he'll beat Serizawa just because he beat Chuta? Pff! Serizawa's a monster!"

"This isn't just some new guy, though! I heard he's the kid of some yakuza boss."

"Whatever, it won't make a difference."

"I'll put down money he gives Serizawa a beat down!"

"You're on!"

Sumi pouted and dropped her chin in her palm. Genji-san, Genji-san, Genji-san. You could've settled in a little before making a spectacle of yourself. She sighed. Impatience breeds stupidity. Be strong, Genji-san!

"Psst!"

Sumi wondered if she should ignore Meiko's beckoning but concluded Meiko would persist, so she turned her head. Meiko grinned and flicked an artfully folded piece of paper at her. "Take a look," she mouthed.

Sumi retrieved the note and unwrapped it carefully, eyes firm on the teacher before reading:

We're going to party with freshmen from Suzuran! You in?

She glided the page under her book and shook her head at Meiko. Meiko furrowed her brow questioningly, but Sumi pretended to be suddenly enthralled by the lecture.

Tonight, Sumi had bigger fish to fry than a mass of obnoxious and impulsive freshmen. Starting with Fukuoka Ryuichi; ending with her dear cousin.

Sumi inhaled the smell of smoke and alcohol. It didn't take much brains to recognize the particular odor of the smoke—the nauseating, brain-tingling, illegal kind. She neither hated nor enjoyed the smell, but it was not one she ever got used to, as she coughed and checked her surroundings habitually. Yankees, go figure. The kids always seemed to be the ones sticking themselves where they didn't belong, but she ignored them and stepped through the doorway into the dark office.

The lights barely reflected off the dark mahogany and scarlet velvet consuming the space. The room was modest in size but spacious. The few pieces of furniture—a couch, desk, bookcase, two guest chairs, and a coffee table—allowed flexibility for occupants. Behind the desk, a short, skinny man with sagging features and a very bald head squinted beady black eyes at her then grinned. The drooping lips pulled back over his chipped black teeth. "Sumi-chan!" His voice was raspy, like he was perpetually suffocating.