"Hnn?" The scarlet-eyed teenager frowned. He thought he heard something...

*CRASH!*

"Hey, quit resistin', you little slut!"

'Oh, great.' The wild-haired deviant sighed. He'd been looking forward to a quiet evening of pickpocketing pedestrians, but apparently fate had other plans... muttering under his breath, Bakura Touzokou headed towards the disturbing sounds.

'Sounds like some kid's being tortured in a back-alley by the local scumbags.'

There were more sounds of clashing and yelling, and the street punk easily found the group in question.

Five men, roughly in the their late teens, were harassing a terrified young girl. Her long, light hair waved wildly as she fought. She was struggling as hard as she could; but with four different degenerates holding her limbs, she could scarcely move.

Bakura frowned as he strode into the dank city alleyway. The pale-skinned miss gave off a faint whimper. She clearly wanted no part in their advances.

"And what's going on here?" The crimson-eyed man glared at the surrounding creeps. "Oh, Hanagawa." He snorted disdainfully at the square-jawed ringleader. "Of course. Only you would be so desperate for a date. Finally found a girl who didn't puke the moment she saw your face?"

The large man snarled at the uninvited guest, showing off several golden teeth. "Mind your own business, Bakura! This don't involve you!"

"Oh, I'm afraid 'it do', my grammatically inept friend." The irritated teen cracked his knuckles in preparation for a fight. "So, which of you b*stards wants to get curb-stomped by the great Bakura?"

Two of the brutish underlings stepped forward. There was a moment's pause, then the fists started flying. Bakura was smaller than the steroid-infused thugs, true; but he was faster, and a more talented fighter. He grinned down at the two idiots now lying dazed on the pavement.

"Fools." He leered at the larger man. "Well?"

Hanagawa looked uncertain about taking on the crazed combatant by himself. His two remaining fighters were busy holding onto their victim. But they were distracted by their boss's wavering. One of the flunkies suddenly screamed- the girl had managed to bite down into his forearm- hard. She wriggled out of his grasp, and managed a nice kick to the other kidnapper's groin.

"Sh*t!" Sensing defeat, the gutless gang-leader fled, leaving his bleeding comrades to chase after him.

"Pfth. Dumb*sses." Bakura watched as the cretins finally left. "Hey." He glanced at the girl. She turned her face to her hero. "You alright?"

The pale girl was clearly shaken, but she nodded tentatively.

"Good- now get out of here. This isn't a place for little kids."

The girl only blinked. Bakura noticed that she was rather bedraggled looking- and not just from the fight. She was wearing a worn blue shirt, along with ripped jeans and old sneakers.

"I just said this place is bad- go home."

She looked downwards and bit her lip. Her messy white hair fell over her face, hiding her expression.

"You don't have one."

The girl shook her head from side to side in despair.

"Ah." He frowned and pointed to his left. "There's a shelter three blocks down that way- they take in the 'strays' who aren't in foster care or- HEY!"

The mysterious girl suddenly took off running. She was quite fast.

Bakura ran after the terrified teen.

"Hey! Stop! I'm not gonna force you to go! I just thought you should know! Damn, woman; calm down!"

Panting heavily, he managed to get in front of the fleeing female. "Easy! I'm not looking to hurt you! I'm only warning you!" He held out his arms in a pacifying gesture. "Hanagawa isn't the only b*stard who hangs out around here after dark! You shouldn't be out here on your own!"

The halted newcomer paused uneasily. True, this man had stopped those filthy perverts... but could he really be trusted?

The girl seemed to be weighing her options, so the tired punk laid everything out. "Look, I have a place where I stay with some of my friends. It's not exactly a palace, but it's safe, and it's not far. You can crash there until morning at least- and if you don't like it, you can leave, alright? I'm not gonna keep you there."

Two hickory-toned eyes blinked in confusion- not many strangers were so openly generous. What was this guy's angle?

Still wary, the girl gave a single nod before following after the exhausted brawler. He led her down a few dark streets, guiding her with words only. She didn't make a sound as they marched down the dull urban streets. Eventually they reached an abandoned construction site- it was mostly just a skeleton of a giant building. No doubt meant to be a large business complex, the project had likely fallen through after the last economic crisis.

"It's not much, but it's home." Bakura explained bluntly. He guided the quiet girl up a rough, concrete staircase. In the middle of the unfinished floor lay a rough set of plywood walls- clearly some sort of temporary construction manager's office. There were various plastic tarps draped over the plywood walls, helping to keep the 'refuge' dry and standing.

The newcomer stared at the unusual setup, but jumped when a blonde head suddenly poked through the main door frame.

"Hey Bakura, what took you so long?!"

"Ran into a situation." He pointed at the still-nervous girl. She seemed to have been startled by the blonde's appearance, and she took a few steps backwards.

"Eh? Oh!" The tanned blonde suddenly turned and spoke to someone behind him. "Hey, Marik! We got company!"

A second head suddenly joined the first- this man looked even more dangerous. He was also blonde and dark-skinned, but more muscular and wild looking.

The second guy stared at the quiet newcomer. "Eh? Who's that?"

The taller of the pale duo pointed at the girl. "No clue. She doesn't talk."

"'She?'" Malik frowned. "Bakura, that's a guy."

"What?!" The pale degenerate blinked before turning towards the other teen. "Hanagawa said that she was a girl!"

Malik snorted. "Hanagawa barely has the brain of a flea." The shorter blonde yelled bluntly towards the newcomer: "Hey, are you a guy or a girl?!"

The runaway hesitantly held up one finger.

"One?" Bakura raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Yes, that's what we're asking: which one?"

"No, dumb*ss; he means he's the 'first one' I said." Malik folded his arms. "A guy." Marik nodded in agreement with his boyfriend.

"Wait- so, you're not a chick?!" Bakura sounded astonished.

The (now confirmed) boy nodded shyly.

"His hair is probably just really long 'cuz he's been on the streets for a while. C'mere and I'll give you a trim." The younger blonde motioned towards a cracked mirror hanging from an old nail.

The stranger hesitantly stepped over to the concrete pillar with the mirror. His anxiety grew when Malik brought out a pair of scissors; but he relaxed (somewhat) once the loud teen started elaborating.

"Don't you worry about a thing- I cut everyone's hair! Hell, Bakura there-" the tanned teen pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "-looks like a road-killed poodle after three months!" Bakura flipped Malik the bird, but the hairdresser didn't notice. "So, how much do you want off?"

The unnamed teen took some of his own hair into one hand and pointed to a very small amount.

"Really? Only that much?" The blonde blinked. "That's still pretty long- you might get mistaken for a girl again."

"Oh yes, because you're one to talk." Bakura snorted.

"Hey!"

The mute boy remained politely still as the amateur barber began his work. For several minutes there were no sounds, save the gentle clipping of the scissors.

Malik finally attempted to make some small talk as he snipped away at the light-colored locks.

"So, what's your name?"

"..."

"You're not much for conversation, huh?"

"..."

"That's ok- Bakura the Grouch over there doesn't talk much either. I mean, he says some stuff; but he's a total *ss when he does, so we just ignore him." Malik hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm, so I guess that means you're still a better communicator than he is."

A very faint smile drifted over the 'salon' customer's face.

"Hey, I saw that!" Malik grinned triumphantly. "I got you to smile! See, Bakura- I am funny! Even- um... even... he thinks so!"

"A name would be helpful." Marik pointed out mildly.

Malik soon finished the trimming, and put away the old scissors.

Running his fingers through his (somewhat shorter) hair, the new boy decided to trust them a little more. He stepped away from the mirror and knelt down. There was a shallow divot in the concrete where some rainwater had gathered. He dipped one finger into the divot, and began using the water to draw a symbol on the floor.

The three street punks stared curiously at the character.

The tallest of the trio frowned. "What does it say?"

The newcomer blinked in surprise- the character was very basic. Did the larger blonde not know how to read Japanese?

Bakura studied the dewy symbol. "It says 'Ryou'."

"Like the river?" Marik began clapping his hands excitedly. "Ooo! I know! That can be his nickname! Then he'll be just like us!"

"The hell are you talking about? We don't even have nicknames!" The stranger savior protested irritably.

"Of course we do!" Marik pointed to everyone in turn. "Malik-honey, The Grouch, River, and I'm the Bronze Sex-bomb!"

"What the- why the hell am I 'The Grouch?!'" The aggravated Bakura snapped. But the others ignored him.

"Hmm, but that name sounds familiar, for some reason..." Malik put a hand to his chin as he looked thoughtfully towards the newcomer.

The white-haired boy tensed in horror- if he was recognized... but mercifully, the blonde lost his train of thought when his look-alike started arguing with Bakura (again).

'Whew... thank heavens...' The weary newcomer stifled a yawn. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion, and his vision was growing somewhat blurry.

"Questions can wait until morning- for now, I'm betting we could all do with some sleep." Bakura pointedly remarked.

The newcomer nodded in grateful agreement. He was past fatigued, and having a safe place to sleep sounded wonderful. The group slowly filed inside the small plywood 'base.'

The concrete 'floor' of the make-shift office was mostly covered in old rugs, topped by several old mattresses covered in worn blankets and a few under-stuffed pillows.

"Here." Bakura pointed towards one end of the structure. "You can have the far right corner- it's free."

'Ryou' nodded in acceptance, and gave a half-bow of gratitude. He wasn't expecting the loud exclamation from the first blonde ('Malik', apparently).

"Ha! Keepin' it classy, even in this company- I think I like this new guy!"

The surprised visitor felt his face flush slightly- he'd forgotten that his manners were likely to surprise the average youth.

His savior, however, could care less about Malik's commentary. Bakura scowled as he threw himself down onto a full mattress. "Keep it down, you moron! I had to knock down two of Hanagawa's thugs just to get them to lay off him!"

"Oh big whoop- that's like saying you stole candy from a toddler!" Malik stuck out his tongue as he laid down next to the other bronzed teen. Ryou was rather surprised when he saw that the blondes were now cuddled up under the same blanket- either their were very close siblings, or else...

As the other three bickered, Ryou managed to curl up on a worn twin mattress in the unused corner. He was able to wrap a ripped, dark blue comforter around him for warmth. He placed one pale arm under his head and felt the uneven bumps of the old box springs. Evidently everything the group had was obtained through dumpster diving, but right now the exhausted boy barely cared. Ryou let out a yawn as he reflected on the strange set-up. They were an odd group, perhaps a little rough; but at least they were honorable.

With a final sigh, the fatigued teen decided he could trust them... for now. His breathing slowed to a steady pace as he surrendered himself to the land of dreams.