High school is usually a difficult ride for most, but it was honestly the easiest time of my life. I was never very social in my high school life. Of course, I went to parties, got some girls, and became popular among my classmates, but I could never say that I had any real friends. Those who I spent my time with were only there for burning time and I couldn't really say that I thought anything more of them. To them, I was a tool, and to me, they were fodder.

This was the jist of my short-lived life as the honor student of a prestigious private school in Manhattan. The student named Hajime Satoru was known universally throughout the school a person who you shouldn't cross.

A little less than a year ago, I put all of my past life behind me and immigrated to America in order to live a normal, different life. What was so horrible back in Japan you might ask? It wasn't so much that it was a bad life, but more so that it was... a hectic one.

I was the second son of a Yakuza boss. Yes, THE famous Japanese international crime syndicate. The Satoru clan had its tendrils in every facet of crime from smuggling drugs, to carrying out hit requests. Survival was brutal for most. Even the upper executives of the organization had their troubles. In order to stay alive in that kind of world as an unknowing and innocent child, I was forced to learn the ins and outs of the Yakuza: Deception, Combat, Finance, Crime, and all the other necessities of being the son of a Japanese crime lord.

Everything was running smoothly until the end of last year. I had a brutal falling out with my father, the current clan head Over the years, I matured. I realized that the Yakuza lifestyle that I was brought up in just wasn't for me. I didn't want to continue in crime.

Now don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I felt guilt or had a change of heart. In the most brutally honest way to say it, I just didn't care. My elder brother was already the designated heir of my father's business and my younger brother was currently living with my mother in Texas. I was the odd child of the family. Favored by neither of parents and having to carry out missions while defending against an assault of assassinations every other day, I was simply done.

After I turned 16, I left Japan and went on my own to New York. Having been rich, smart, and a master at deception, I easily got into one of New York City's best schools. I got myself a girlfriend, used my natural popularity to my advantage, and created a clique of "friends" who would honestly be mistaken as Yakuza subordinates if my family were to meet them.

Everything was going well in my mission to lead a semi-normal life until I messed up one faithful day.

Sometimes I wonder what would have been if only my life had been a bit different.