OHSHC

2

Early mornings were never fun. Tamaki was currently trying to hide his attempts to leave without alerting his father or grandmother. Today was not his lucky day.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"S-school, ma'am."

"Why are you being all secretive? SON! Your bastard child is doing something. Punish him."

Fast footsteps came down the stairs.

"Yes, mother."

Tamaki's father stood infront of him. He tried to slide back, knowing what was coming next.

-==--==--==--==-                

He crawled to school. The broken windows were just as hostile as always. The splintered frames were the most intact about the whole school. He dragged himself inside. The vinyl floor was, as usual, splattered in red. The school was poor. It didn't even have real teachers, but some people who'd gone through similar things helped to take care of rejected teens/children. They were called the Association. Usually left alone by gangs out of respect, they ran the school. One of the gangs even offered protection. Bone band. They did it in exchange for being able to drugs here, even let them use it to offer rehab for the kids. (Price discount).

Miss Louhe knelt beside him. She taught history, geography and R.S, alongside 2 others. She was a good teacher, well educated. No-one knew why she was in this place, but they were grateful for it.

"Your dad again?"

He groaned, nodding in response. He couldn't talk. She carried him to the hall they used as a medical bay. It was the biggest and most-used room in the school. There were already three others. He recognized Kyoya as one, and the other only came when they could escape their step-mother. A little girl of about six. she dropped by the shelter sometimes. Somehow she was still full of happiness, a bundle of energy. They were laughing with the teen applying picking glass from the cuts on her face. She was lucky none had gotten into her eyes.

Tamaki waited until he'd been patched up, and he scooted over to Kyoya.

"So, he got you again?"

"He didn't notice me climb inside, but this morning, he went at my mum."

"You know trying to help her makes it worse, right?"

"He almost killed her."

"You should try going into hiding."

Kyoya scanned over the wall of death. It had a picture of every person who'd attended this school who'd died, with their name and cause of death written on the back. There were more each day. You'd think having rich parents would give them some safety, but it just meant no escape.

He sighed, and pulled Kyoya into a hug. They sat like that until Kyoya had his weekly counselling appointment. They all had them. There were so many who could relate and help. That was the only reason they were so often.

He heard police sirens. So stupid. They came by regularly, but only on drug hunts, and the drugs were always hidden too well, they never found anything, never will. Maybe cops were good in other places, but these didn't give a shit. They'd ruin your life for fun. He saw one of the association's adult members go to the door. As there were no doors, and reception was linked directly to the hall, he could see what was happening.

Something was different. There was no kicking, or punching. Someone with a bone band tattoo was escorting a woman to the door. She was an official? Had they lost their mind?! Maybe she was a trusted member? Would explain the escort. He looked closer. Maybe she was a social worker...Coming here would still be a death sentence.

The usual protective band of teens had formed around the hall (no-one was in class yet), as well as their protectors. Didn't give off a great image, granted, but it worked slightly.

He struggled to his feet, and stumbled over to the door frame. The police weren't coming inside? Maybe they thought that they were too good for that. One, a tall man wearing jeans and a t-shirt held his hands in the air and slowly edged towards the building. Immediately, the circle of people became denser where he approached. Bone band people with pistols walked to him. They searched him, before nodding at the line. They hesitantly created an opening.

Then the cops just drove off. No search. No failed arrests. A small crowd of curious students had formed. Tamaki worked his way to the front. The man looked terrified.

"Hi, um, I'm here to, um, help people." They stuttered.

A gang member replied "Many others have tried. What makes you special?"

"I d-don't know. I just really w-want t-to try."

They seemed oddly familiar.

They were lead inside. The first thing they did was walk towards the wall of death, lit by candles. Then he knew where he knew them from. They looked like a male version of the picture next to Fuyumi Ootori's picture. He checked the back of the picture, while the man was searching the other side of the wall. Timi Smith, Cause; murder. Unknown murderer.

Tamaki felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, and saw that it was the man.

"Hi, I'm John Smith." His stutter had gone completely.

"Ta-"He stopped. Should he trust them? He looked at miss Louhe, who was accompanying him. She nodded. "Tamaki."

"Hikaru and Kaoru." The twins had seemingly appeared right behind him. Mori and Honey were walking towards them.

"Boss, who's the new guy?"

"I'm John Smith."

"Hey, you look--"

"--Just like the girl in that picture." Kaoru motioned to the picture Tamaki was still holding.

"She was my sister."

Kyoya walked over. His 30-minute session seemed to have gone well, he wasn't glaring.

"And that guy looks like the girl in that picture!"

"I have a name."

"Oh hi, I'm--"

"I know who you are."

Tamaki put his head on Kyoya's shoulder.

"Where do you know him from?"

"I searched all the people next to Fuyumi's photo."

"So, what's your relation to 'Fuyumi'?"

"She's my sister. It was a suicide."

"My condolences."

"You're a trained social worker. What are you doing in this hell-hole?"

"Trying to help. I'm meant to pick out the at-risk students. If they really count as students."

"In which case, take the whole school with you."

"Huh?"

"No-one with a healthy life comes here. Half are junkies and most have disorders. Try your best, but views towards officials are negative, to say the least."

"I'm going to try!"

"Good luck."