IMPORTANT NOTE OF IMPORTANCE: Hi there long time readers. I need to apologize for my lateness in posting, I have been dealing with college and that is A LOT to deal with. Also, I have moved to a new account. I will now be writing under the name KinReynard and will be posting my updates to that account. You can find it here: .net/u/1801761/KinReynard Please visit me there, it would mean ever so much. ALSO, I will be slowly retooling my older fanfics, starting with this one. I've posted the first rewritten chapter for all of you and I hope you'll go to my site and read the rest as I post it up. (Considering I already have 9 chapter written… updates should actually be regular for once!) Thank you all for your support, it means so much and if it doesn't trouble you too much, please follow my new account! In the meantime, enjoy this rewritten first chapter as your first taste of the newly re-imagined All in the Family.

-AN: Welcome one and all to a rewrite of my popular old story All In The Family. I've ditched the old mythology and changed around the characters, so expect to be surprised. To those of you who have no clue what I'm saying… just ignore this and skip down to the disclaimer. As usual, I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho but the OC's are courtesy of me and my old writing partner Eri. Thanks and enjoy!

It's 15 minutes until school starts. Instead of being up, dressed and on the way to my class, I'm still sleeping. Completely unaware that time is passing me by.

"Keichi??"

I don't respond at first, still being dead asleep. In light of the events that will follow this morning, I should simply stay in bed.

"KEICHI!!"

It's the second time around my father calls my name that I awake with a start, taken aback by the sheer volume. The man has impressive lung power. Rolling off my mattress, I land rather gracelessly on my shoulder. Rubbing it, I lament how it's going to bruise when I hear the voice of my father once more.

"Keichi, was that you?? Are you awake yet!?"

"Yes," I mutter under my breath, exhausted from the sudden exercise falling out of bed gives one.

"KEICHI?!?!?!"

"YES!! I'm UP!!" I roar, stumbling to my feet like some two-bit horror zombie. The lack of sleep is evident in my sudden inability to remain upright. Holding onto the back of my desk chair for support I blearily began to assemble the uniform for my school.

"Good, you have 5 minutes to get to class."

Now, as you might remember, I have 15 (actually 14 at this point…) minutes, but my father knows two things about me. One is that I am never on time unless led to believe I am going to be late; and two, that the only clock I own ran out of batteries long ago and I have forgotten to replace them every day since then. Finally fetching the blazer to my uniform, I shove my arms through the sleeves and race out of my stuffy bedroom. Halfway down the stairs I hear my father's voice once more, smug. I have forgotten something.

"Don't forget to eat breakfast," he reminds me, and with a quick turn on my heel, I spin to head up the stairs. Timed perfectly as usual was a piece of bread that freed itself from its rather toasty confinement. Catching it, I smile and wink with a salute of my food.

"Got it. Thanks, I'll see you whenever!" I call out as I run out the door, shoes untied and toast clamped between my teeth. Forget the fact that the school is clear across town, I have three things on my side. First and foremost, I am always late and therefore always running. If I was the type to get involved in team sports, I suppose I would have been a cross country, or track and field coach's dream. Second, I know this town better than I know the back of my hand and can take every shortcut available. Of course, those two things can only cut my time down in half, just enough for me to miss half of my first period. No, the real defining factor was that I am not human. Oh sure, I could pass myself off as one… after all when in Rome, it's best to look like the freaking Romans. Careful to stay out of the prying eyes of the city folk, I would make this same run daily through the back streets at speeds that would make any athlete jealous.

The only problem with going fast is trying to stop. No matter how much traction my trainers have, I will always end up leaving tread marks behind on the pavement. Normally this problem isn't troublesome. Normally. On this day though, I am met with an obstacle I honestly am not expecting. Bent over to tie his shoe is a student I haven't seen before. Despite my best efforts I immediately ram into the poor sod, sending him and the books around his feet flying into the air. I don't fare so well myself and end up upside down and slammed into a tree. Groaning, my ankles are around my ears before I roll to my side to stand. My first impression is to yell at the newcomer for being my way but seeing him pat around the grass for his glasses makes me feel something akin to pity. Picking up the battered metal frames I give a low whistle and it's odd to note that the metal is ice cold, despite the heat of the oncoming summer.

"I think the term 'coke bottle' describes your lenses," I announce, holding them out to the boy who takes them gratefully. The lenses aren't thick, but seeing as how they bend the light, I assume he's as blind as a bat. He stands, revealing his superior height much to my eternal distaste. Lanky, he's at least a year or two younger than me but it's hard to tell. Curly hair the color of glacial ice is teased back from his thin face and once he puts his glasses on I want to snigger. A perfect mook of a student, he epitomizes the book worm.

"… Thank you…" he mumbles as he picks up his books. Finishing the last of my toast, I help a little. The familiar scent off the boy warns me he's a half breed. It had been 10 years since the news of Youkai hit the streets of Ningenkai. Some think it's a blessing… I just find it damn annoying. Now every fight on T.V. is about whether or not they have the same rights as humans. Personally, I don't care.

That isn't to say I don't have a stake in it. Like I said before, I have demonic lineage. I just don't flaunt it. Unlike the barrage of half demons that are all the rage, I'm the real deal. I got that from my father in every aspect. Perhaps if I wanted to, I could come out for the cause, fight for my Youkai brothers and sisters, but I'll be damned if I feel any pity for them. As I said earlier, I plan to blend in. I've been living among them long enough and I pass off as a pretty damn good Roman, so to speak.

"You new here?" I ask casually, though I already know the answer. I'm still stuck on the kid's damn blue hair. Speaking as somebody who's made it this long without drawing suspicion, having some giant walking about with THAT hair color… it draws attention. Of course with the given tendency for those goth and punk subcultures to wear their hair in neon rainbows, I suppose the boy wouldn't draw too much attention. In fact, he'd be a damn good Roman himself and his aura was barely noticeable if only he'd give a little effort and buy some hair dye. I give a fake grin at the boy, concealing my disgust for his obvious… uniqueness… easily.

"Y-yes, actually. I just moved here a few days ago," the blue-haired kid replies quietly. His voice is laced with an accent I can't quite place and is deep enough to make me jealous. Not just a half-breed but a gaijin to boot. I can literally feel my frustration with him begin to boil.

"Oh? Where'd you come from?" I don't want the conversation to continue but what the hell… it's already started down a dark little road. Might as well follow it to see where it'll lead. Then, I realize my manners must have been absent and clear my throat, scratching the back of my head sheepishly. "Uh… Sorry about running into you. It certainly ain't the best way to start a new year at a new school."

"Ah no… it isn't, but I'm very grateful to be going to a real school." The kid is cheerful enough but I'm curious. What qualifies as a fake school? A barn? Was he perhaps raised in the demon realm? If so, why the hell couldn't he STAY there!?

"Where were you taught before? Home schooled?" I ask innocently as I watched the boy scrounge through his things. The boy nods at me.

"Yes. My father taught me most things... we're always on the move..."

Good lord, how stereotypical can you get? Next thing you know he'll comment on how he's been raising his siblings to ease the stress from his parents as they all struggle to make ends meet. Cue the tiny violin and the tugged heartstrings. That is, if I was some poor sap. The world is full of idiots who give to the poor and end up the same way themselves. And what do they get in return? Nothing but cold stares on the streets. Charity is best reserved for the bleeding hearts and I'll be damned if the consider me as such.

"Really? I used to move a lot before my father and I settled in Japan," I explain in forced amiability. It was true enough; before I started living with my dad I was rather nomadic, and it remained that way for a couple of years afterwards. But my father is also a teacher, so I never really consider that period of my life as home schooling. Go ahead, think I'm being hypocritical, but I see it simply as different circumstances. This poor sap's father probably isn't nearly as qualified as mine.

"Oh really? Where did you come from?" Now he's distractedly glancing about the ground, worried about a hiding pencil or perhaps a missing piece of notes.

"London, but that was a long time ago."

Don't be silly. I'm not really from London but that's what my birth certificate reads. I glance at my watch and stare at the time.

"Listen, what class do you have? Because… you're going to be late," I inform him and I see the slow horror dawn on his face. Oh, to be young and worried about tardiness again.

"Oh!! I'm sorry!!" he cries out, digging through his bag and pulling out a scrap of paper. "It must be here somewhere…." Another five scraps are revealed before he pauses and reads aloud. "Can you show me to Edegawa-sensei's room? Class 3-C, I believe."

Damn, the freak is in my classroom. I dust off my hands.

"Here, lemme make up for running into you by taking you to class." I hold out a hand. They're calloused regardless of how well I treat them, though I suppose it's just another sign of my lineage. When the boy places his hand in mine I'm surprised. They're as frigid as ice. I repress a shiver as I glance at him. "You ready??" I doubt he can keep up but hell; I'm ready to be surprised.

"Yes."

Doubt it, but oh well. One, two, three and we're off. The hallways are always crowded right before class so I bypass them. Up the trunk of the oak tree next to the school, the window is open to invite a breeze that never comes. With a small hop, I dart through and surprisingly, so does the boy. Around a corner, then through two classrooms before we reach the fire escape stairs. Up one more flight, around another corner and then BAM.

My foot connects with the door to the classroom with a loud thud and it flies open to reveal our teacher, waiting for me with a detention pad in one hand. She's always waiting like that though, so I suppose I should just take it in stride. STILL… a vein pulses in my forehead as I strain myself to smile.

"Ohayo, Sensei!" I give a small wave and I can see her anger rising.

"Congratulations, Minamino-san," she announces through clenched teeth, "You broke a new record for ALMOST being tardy. Urameshi-san arrived before you."

Ouch. If Midori reached the class before me I might as well just hang my head in shame. Well… if I could be shamed that easily.

"Glad to see you're as chipper as ever. I have kidnapped the new student, by and by, and he's a bit terrified. He must have heard how horrible you are!" I give a small fake gasp as I walk past the teacher. She's bored now, unable to catch me in the act, and resumes the love/hate relationship we've been cultivating for what seems like an age now and not just the first two quarters of school.

"I'm surprised you haven't brainwashed him already. Now sit down before I mark you tardy," she drawls as she puts away her pad. I'm already at my desk, the new kid in tow. The only open seat is next to me, no small coincidence I will have to admit. He sits down amiably, unaware of the stigma placed on the seat and I smile.

"Only open seat, Blue-san," I chuckle. "You'll have to put up with me all year."

"That's alright, I've had worse desk mates," he replies. Presumptuous of him, considering we've only just met. Then I remember he's been home schooled. Debating on whether or not to point this out, I instead choose a different route.

"Oho, not yet you haven't," I assure him, slowly dropping my pleasant act from earlier just as the teacher speaks up.

"Kuwabara-san. Please come up here and introduce yourself," she announces. The boy seems crestfallen and I remember how shy he was moments earlier. Giving him a small pat, I whisper to him.

"Close your eyes and think of the queen." He seems to get my reference and gives a breathy laugh. Trembling, he stands before the class. I gotta pity the kid as I remember the feeling I got when I first had to perform this age old "new kid" ritual. And I was far more confidant than him. I'm amazed he hasn't burst into flame or something equally as horrible and flashy. Then I remember how icy his skin was. If anything, he'd make it snow.

Standing before them, he clears his throat and gives a timid smile. The boy seems to have all the backbone of slug.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Kuwabara Samui. My family recently moved back here to Japan after quite some time in the Israeli Peace Corps. So, please do forgive me if my Japanese is rusty." He gives a small bow, all polite-like and I'm seething.

Okay, FINE. The kid is hardly stereotypical, just damn shy. I don't know a lot of kids who spent time in the Peace Corps… so what does that make him? A saint? Oh yes; a blue haired, half-breed saint from the Middle East. If anything, he's as bad as the martyrs for the demon rights campaigns. Leaning back in my chair, I eye him carefully as he walks back to the seat next to me.

The teacher starts up the lessons on English grammar but my mind is elsewhere. Another thing off about this new kid is his name. Kuwabara. I seem to remember by father had an old friend by that name during his… more rowdy years. Back when he was a Spirit Detective, I think. He's sitting to my blind side though and it would seem rude to stare so I keep my eye trained on the whiteboard. Kuwabara was a common name, right?

"Didn't tell them you were a half-breed, didja?" I whisper to him, turning another page in my books. This kid can't be as perfect as he seems, and as usual I plan to push him a little, see when he pushes back.

He ignores me, his head bent over his notes. Giving up discrepancy, I glance over at where he is and notice he's writing in Arabic. At least he heard me speak; he glances curiously over at me out of the corners of his eyes.

"Well?? Sensei can't hear us this far back, don't worry. Afraid to be torched?? Ran outta town??" I ask quietly, tapping the back of his cool hand with a finger. What he has is a valid fear, but one that I find amusing anyway. He then looks away from me and finally speaks, his voice as hushed as mine.

"I have no idea what you mean, Minamino-san. I was never run out of any town I stayed in, especially not with torches. My family traveled where there was a need for their services."

Hardly, I hiss inside. Forget the eta, demons are the new thing to hate, you fool. My annoyance grows at his seemingly implacable mood and I decide to push harder. It's his fault for giving me leeway as far as I see it.

"So was it your mother who was the Youkai? Hm?? Your father fall in love with the forbidden fruit? Is that why your hair is that color??"

The moment I'm done with the statement I realize I might have pushed him too far. That's my problem since day one and even though I'm aware of it… I can't stop it. A weaker person might whine that it's 'just their nature' but I know the truth; I enjoy the conflict that arises from watching a person fight back, but I always regret it when I push too far. I want to see how far the blue saint will go until he decides enough is enough, and now I've reached that point.

He gives me a sharp look and I swear his eyes looks red instead of brown, but just as soon as he does it's all over.

"Please. Cease and desist this line of questioning. It will not get you far, and I would rather not have this discussion with you." His voice has a defined edge, and I shiver as he returns his gaze to the teacher.

"I'm being civil. The other kids won't be so kind. They like to speak of equality, but half-breeds are just bastards to them." And it's true. For all the self-righteous nature of the school, announcing itself as open to human and Youkai alike, everybody is still damn afraid of the demons. I'm not like the other mutt students, having no stake in the human genetic strain, so I don't count myself in their numbers. I'm that nasty little outlier that picks on whatever race is more fun. Besides, I can hardly blame them for fearing demons. Some of them are damn scary… the others are just simply amusing.

"Civility would be keeping your tongue in your head, Youkai." His gaze remains perma-glued to the teacher, but his fingers are clenching his pencil roughly, "As for the others; I have no desire to conflict with their perspectives. It does not matter to me what they think of me or my family."

For once I can't think of a retort. I'm stunned, flabbergasted, bowled-over and a few others words at that. How the hell does the kid know I'm a Youkai!? Running a hand over my hair I glance him up and down, heart racing. It should be neigh impossible to figure out, I've been hiding so long. If I was a weaker man I might feel nervous. Instead, I collect myself.

"I'm sorry, are you mistaken?? Did you just call me Youkai???" I give a quiet little laugh at the absurdity of the truth. I cast him a baleful stare. "Besides, you don't seem to have thick enough skin to take on the prejudices of this school."

"Thick skin is a matter of whether or not you react in a volatile nature towards your aggressors," he replies, his tone implying (whether subconsciously or not) that he was better than me for exactly that reason. I lean back in my chair and snort.

"Bah, pacifism is dead these days."

"So long as one person practices, it remains." Blue-san closes his notebook and I notice that the teacher has finished her lesson. The bell rings and he stands to enjoy his break, but my paranoia has spread to unhealthy levels. I grab his frigid wrist and yank him back to look at me.

"HEY. What did you call me earlier!?" This doesn't faze the boy as he just glances at me with bored russet eyes. I want to growl, snarl, or rip his face off with my fingers, but I am in polite company.

"Please release my arm, Minamino-san. I would rather not have both of our reputations tarnished because of your senseless pride." His voice is calm and dulcet. I'm just rational enough to listen to him and oblige. It hardly matters; he'll have to sit next to me later anyhow. He leaves my company with a somewhat rushed tone and I take small comfort in the fact that I might have at least spooked him.

It's not my fault I'm prideful. It's genetic, I swear. Find me a yōkō who isn't a prideful bastard and I'll show you one who's just a very talented actor. Besides, it's not just pride; it's survival. I'm surrounded by humans who are more than willing to kick me back to Makai faster than I can shake my tail. The ability to pass as human has become necessary if I want to keep my uninhibited lifestyle, and if this half-breed could figure it out… who's to say somebody else won't? A terrifying idea, especially if this other figure would reveal me to the local community.

Wanting to calm my agitated nerves, I pull out a book and blandly flip through the pages, all the while watching the blue-haired boy. The spring quarter begins, and already there's somebody I need to be wary of.

He's not walking to the bathroom like the other kids, but instead towards the last person I thought I'd see him look at. Midori Urameshi. Yes, the daughter of THAT Urameshi. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and in the case of Midori it didn't even fall off the freaking branch. Despite her perky good looks, she's the worst brawler this school has seen since her father's days. Piss her off and you better avoid alleys for the next five years.

The pair become fast friends too fast for my liking and with a sinking feeling I watch them hug. Nobody just suddenly hugs somebody they don't have a past history. Well okay, maybe not NOBODY but most people don't. Midori might be the type to be clutchy and clingy, but the blue haired mutt didn't come across like that to me. I'm a damn good judge of character over these sorts of things, comes from always watching your back. Then… Midori kisses him friendly on the cheek and my heart turns to ice as I lean back in my seat.

Quietly, I resign myself to the fate of having to spend the rest of the school year knowing I've essentially pissed off what appears to be Midori's best friend. EVER. So much for ending the year quietly. Sorry Dad.