It was the morning sun, streaming through the high windows in R.I.S High School and cutting golden lines over the smooth floors, and catching up the dust in shining rays flashing like tiny sparks of warning. The corridors were vibrant with life, laughter, lockers banging on each other, footsteps clattering and dashing along, the slight scratch of sneakers on linoleum. The sounds smashed against each other, and intersected, forming a living pulse of tension and anarchy. Through it all there was one person walking waryly, with set shoulders and hunted eyes, calculating in some indefinable danger like a hawk seeking food. New, hushpuppy and sharply inquisitive Comet bore the burden of being an outsider in a condition where all other people appeared to belong. Each laugh, each shove, each word spoken in low tones, were a brush upon his cheek that he could scarcely make out to be a warning of the nature. His dark brown hair was falling into his eyes, and it was greasy with morning sweat, and his backpack did not wind as light as it was supposed to be, and like it was laden with textbooks which it should have been bearing the burden of the school collective tension it seemed to be carrying the weight of the whole school. Every move was calculated, considered, a careful game of bargaining, with unseen dangers lurking in the shadows and corners. He stood in the entrance of the cafeteria attracted by the vibration of energy within. Students were crowded in small groups and the noise of their voices met each other like the waves in a storm. Scraping trays on tables, groaning chairs under the shifting weight, and the odor of fatty food and cheap perfume and weak sweat, all these were assaults on the senses that made Comet feel like her stomach was becoming tighter. And out of the confusion he was himself, Kaiser. Going through the crowd, Kaiser appeared to control it with a smooth motion, the way a conductor manages a rowdy orchestra. And students, parting with a low reverence to pass, lowly murmur with reverence. Dark hair fell on the sunlight, uniform perfect, emblem shining. His expression was composed, just barely smug, but his eyes had a kind of advantage, the kind of predator who had already calculated all the opponents, already comprehended the power distribution within the space. Awe, fear, and something he could not describe, a thrill, stirred a feeling within Comet. Oh, that is him, said a student, in a whisper. "The guy who doesn't lose. The one who maintains the disorder in check." Comet swallowed, with a heart and brain a-throbbing. The rumors had produced a picture of Kaiser, and seeing him at last, with all his accuracy, danger, life, was quite another matter. First period was as heavy as a burden on his heart. Comet stood stiff, and tried to melt into the view, assimilate all the details, with his eyes incessantly looking at Kaiser. Each look, each laugh, every nuanced repositioning of the body appeared to be full of connotation. The instructor spoke in monotonous tones, as the words slipped by him like water, and the mind of Comet was half out of the window, and in communication with the beats of the invisible school order. Lunch brought no relief. Comet sought a darker spot over at the end of the cafeteria, watching, hearing, assimilating. Kaiser came a few moments later, and leaning against a table glancing carelessly around him, seemed to bend gravity itself around him. New, said Kaiser, low and steady, voice full of weight that had to be taken notice of. "Comet, right?" Comet blinked. "Yeah… how do you—" Call it instinct, Kaiser braced himself up, and at last looked into his eyes. His eyes dark, and sharp and unreadable. "First day. You'll see a lot. Most of it… won't be pretty." Comet nodded but did not know what to feel: reassured or intimidated. Kaiser exuded quietness which promised storms behind the scenes-- storms which, at a heartbeat, were likely to burst out. In mid-afternoon the last bell, as of starting gun, went off. Comet walked behind Kaiser through the city, and it struck him with all its force: smoldering smoke in the distant roof-lines, the steaming sidewalk, the roaring engines in the farther distance, and the metallic smell of the city grime in his nostrils. All the angles appeared to be alive and he could feel an echo of danger in the air touching his hair and making his arms stand erect. East gate, Kaiser ordered, in his low voice, with a weight that appeared to fill the air. "Trouble's waiting." Comet's stomach twisted. "Trouble?" In a lingering, deadly smile, a warning and an assurance, Kaiser turned up his lips. "Black Fang. You'll meet them soon enough." Six figures sprang out of the gloom in the alley. Black Fang the notorious in his violence and intimidation emitted an air of danger. One turned a knife carelessly, the steel shinning in the failing sun; the other snapped a chain, and the clanks of metal were the rattle of a hideous drum. Comet froze, heart hammering. It had never been the case that rumors exhibited faces, but now that danger had one. Kaiser made a little movement, muscles as springs. Comet instinctively complied, great caution, yet alert. The tallest of the gang sneered and regarded them as owners. It was a cold smile with Kaiser. "We don't think. We know." And then chaos erupted. The initial strike was lightning. Kaiser was fluid in his movement like an inhuman storm. A chain flashed at his head; he easily flicked it aside, turning the direction of the aggressor so he crashed against a brick wall, grunting out the breath that was leaving his lungs. The first man that Comet encountered attacked him with a knife. Comet flew, on jagged concrete, gravel scouring at his uniform, his palms shaved off. He jumped up, fist up, adrenaline making all his nerves. One of the young gang members who were present, charged with fist cocked. Comet evaded, caught the arm, and pulled, throwing the boy out of his footing, and striking a solid blow with the ribs. The boy fell, panting, and his eyes were opened in dismay. Fear was now turned into focus, his ally adrenaline. Kaiser was a tempest of accuracy. He did not simply fight, but he plotted. Every punch, kick, block, and strike was authoritative. A knife was swung beside him; he parried and ducked and struck down one of the assailants with a kick. The Black Fang collapsed, with a bewilderment in his eyes. Comet had two assailants in front of him. One held a pipe, and the other rushed on fists. He stroke, countered, and dodged, and swiveled. His blows were crude and workable, and necessitated by need. Sweat seared his eyes, his muscles tore, and yet he did not stop. All actions were lessons, all confrontations were a step toward study of this violent new world. One huge gang member rushed against him. Comet dodged, caught the arm and threw the man against the wall of the alley by his own strength. Suffering flew up his arm and concentration increased. He was studying, living, struggling. Chains were swung, knives cut, fists pummeled. Comet defended and evaded and retaliated, just like Kaiser — learning, surviving, growing. Out of the shadows came the gang leader, long and wide and blade gleaming menacingly. Thou hast presumed to stay us, he hissed. The smile of Kaiser was dark and daring. "We don't think. We act." The leader swung. Metal clashed, fists struck, air was vibrating with tension. Comet sprang behind Kaiser, just escaping a cut, which gave him a throb in his chest. Kaiser swung about, parrying the blade, with a counter-thrust of a kick, which has stunned him. The fight blurred. Iron crossed meat, hands clashed, bodies banged into the walls. Kaiser was dancing in deadly time; Comet was an instinctive, dodging, hitting, pushing at his own limits, which he had not thought existed. Every battle made him purer, every step perfected instinct, every blow established survival. At last Kaiser struck a fatal blow at the chief. He had fallen, beaten, not broken. The streetshop became quiet with the city humming being the sole sound. Heavy breathing came with the chest of Comet, dipped here and there with blood. He had survived. With a slight nod, Kaiser wiped his knuckles. "Not bad for a first day." Shaking his head, Comet continued to feel adrenaline. "I… I had never imagined school to be this way. The smile of Kaiser was a taunting, easy one. "R.I.S High School isn't normal. And neither are we. Greetings, comet, Welcome to the beginning, Comet. Cold eyes were watching the shadows. Curving lips with a dark calculating smile. The storm was not over yet, and Comet had fought his first battle. The sun was setting down the long jagged shadows on the streets around R.I.S High School. The beating of Comet was in time with the ragtime march of traffic. Every gesture, every sigh was exaggerated and every stare accompanied with unspoken threat. He knew one thing, to live here he could not be an observer. He was forced to join the storm.