AN: Yeah i'm just gonna apologise profusely and leave this here, thanks for the continued support (not that I really deserve it mind you). I didn't necessarily forget about the story, it just kept getting pushed to one side :( I don't really have an excuse and I am a lil bit ashame.

Again sorry and I do hope you enjoy xx

Chapter 5

My New Best Friend

The door slammed behind him with a resounding bang that echoed through the cold room, swiftly followed by the sure sound of a lock clicking into place. Soul observed the room dejectedly, there was a dismal looking bunk bed on the right side, opposite which stood a table littered with sweet wrappers and a set of dog-eared playing cards. The whole place was enclosed by pale blue breezeblock walls save for a small window at the back which was lovingly barred up.

In retrospect, things could have gone better, Soul thought as he trudged towards the lower bunk. He sat and ran his hands through his already ruffled white hair, the words of the officers buzzing around his head like flies. A quiet snoring came from the top bunk, Soul assumed it was his new roomie. The other was soundly asleep, and he didn't want to wake him so he lay himself on the lower bunk as quietly as he could and pulled the thin duvet over himself. It smelt weird.

Overall, it wasn't a very inviting place, but then again detention centres aren't exactly designed to inspire comfort in their occupants. They'd taken his favourite leather jacket too and stuffed it God knows where, instead forcing him to wear the same white t-shirt and grey sweat pants as everyone else. He probably looked like death warmed up, Hell, he felt like death warmed up. His eyes itched from fatigue despite the extended bout of unconsciousness, and he ached all over as if he'd just ran a marathon around Death City.

The first thing his mother had done was to hit him across the face, of course. Not that he didn't deserve it, Soul supposed. What was harder to bear, though, was watching the disappointment form on his big brother's face as they accused him of three counts of assault and grievous bodily harm.

Assault, honestly. Those bastards, well, the ones who ended up in hospital anyway, went squealing to the police, saying that Soul himself had attacked them. Now Soul wasn't exactly the tallest or the strongest guy in town, how the police managed to come to the conclusion that he would be able to take on three humongous Neanderthals and win was beyond him. Either way, they thought it best to hold him in this shithole 'due to the violent nature of the crime' as they put it, until they could get a full testimony off himself and those involved. Before he knew it he'd packed a few personal items (which had been taken off him when he arrived anyway), shared a very awkward goodbye with his family and was already sitting in the back of a police car on his way to Death City Juvenile Detention Centre.

Soul rolled onto his side and curled up. His head was beginning to throb again. Overall, this is what you'd refer to as a pretty shitty situation.

Sure, he could tell them it was a crazy doctor that committed the crime he was being accused of in a bid get himself out of here, but Soul reckoned the police were unlikely to believe him, especially if the 'victims' were pinning it on him. Besides, despite everything going on, without Stein's help Soul would most likely have been a pile of rotting meat by now. If he ever got out of this, Soul decided that he would seek out Stein to tell him that they were even – he hated being in debt to another.

The person on the top bunk suddenly shifted, Soul hoped the other didn't decide to wake up, he wasn't really in a talking mood.

"Hey." A whisper.

Dammit.

Maybe if he didn't answer, the other guy would think he was asleep and give up.

"Hellooo?" No such luck. Soul stubbornly remained silent, clutching onto the duvet like it was an invisibility cloak. The last thing he needed was to attract the attention of the other residents and end up in an even worse pile of shit.

The guy in the top bunk shifted again, causing the old springs underneath the mattress to creak. A few seconds of silence, and Soul heard nothing more from his cellmate. He presumed the other had given up with the impromptu meet and greet and decided to go back to sleep. Though now he was only left with his disturbingly pessimistic thoughts.

Sure it wasn't so bad now, but what if he was convicted? What then? Would he be released? Or kept in this place until he was eighteen? Then he'd be moved to a real, grown up, shiv-in-the-back-for-a-cigarette type of prison. A shiver ran through Soul - that was something his fifteen year old self couldn't bear to think about. If Soul was superstitious, he would have declared it was karma, retribution in return for every sap he'd conned or stolen from.

Soul scrunched his eyes shut, willing himself to believe that thinking such things was ridiculous, and that he actually wasn't as scared about what might happen as he physically felt. It was with this in mind that Soul fell into an uneasy sleep.

BANG!

The sound woke Soul from his sleep with a jump. He quickly rolled over and wiped the dried up drool off his cheek as if he was back at home being woken up by Wes. Then reality hit. Oh, right… assault charges… Prison. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, hoping that that it would somehow shake the tiredness that still clung to him.

"Whoa man you look like you have a toilet brush stuck to your head!" A voice brashly exclaimed. Soul looked up to see his roommate, hanging upside down over the top bunk, inspecting him with the curiosity of a monkey. Huh, like that guy could talk, he was sporting a full head of blue spikes! Giving the other guy a look that hopefully conveyed 'leave me alone', Soul ruffled and patted his white hair into something he hoped resembled his usual style.

The door opened to reveal a bored looking guard, who gestured at the two to leave the room.

"Time for breakfast guys." The man stated unenthusiastically before moving onto their neighbours. The other boy jumped down from his bunk and landed gracefully on two feet with too much enthusiasm for that time of the morning. He turned to Soul with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

"I'm Black*Star by the way! The Great and the Powerful. Nice to meet you." The guy, Black*Star, held out his hand to shake, Soul eyed it for a moment before taking it warily.

"Soul." He replied simply. Black*Star yanked at Soul's hand and lifted him onto his feet, despite a noise of protest from the other.

"Soul? What kind of a name is that?" Black*Star asked.

"Well what kind of a name is Black*Star?" The boy in question answered sharply, rubbing his aching shoulder. Black*Star remained unaffected by Soul's coldness and continued to smile.

"It's a… erm… family name." Black*Star replied with hesitation. Soul thought back for a moment, he thought maybe he'd heard about the infamous Star Clan years ago from Wes when he was trying to scare Soul for a joke. Wes had always described so beautifully the bloody massacre that had taken place, and that the survivors liked to eat children for breakfast. Of course when he'd gone crying to his mother she'd kindly explained to him that no such thing was true. Whatever happened to those good old days when his parents were as loving and doting as any other, Soul wondered.

"Oi. Breakfast. Now." The man called to them from the door. Without saying anything else, the two left the room and joined the end of a procession of other boys clad in the same outfit, presumably headed towards the canteen.

The canteen itself was the same shade of pale blue breezeblock, though the room was brightly lit, filled with grey tables, each with four or five boys seated around them. Some chatted noisily to each other whilst others simply sat in silence and ate their breakfast.

Just act cool.

Soul decided it best to follow Black*Star's lead, picking up a green plastic tray and joining the queue for food. A bowl of cereal and a glass of juice was unceremoniously dumped onto the tray by a bored-looking teen standing behind the food counter, probably one of the current inmates. Instead of joining a group like Soul thought he might, Black*Star sat at one of the empty tables and thankfully gestured Soul to join him.

In a strange way, it was like being at a high school, only a high school for delinquents who were guarded at all times and weren't allowed to go home at the end of the day. Soul sat down at the table and grabbed the spoon, inspecting breakfast with disdain. As soon as his butt hit the seat Black*Star unceremoniously began to wolf down the mush that might have been edible in a previous life.

"So," Black*Star spoke suddenly in between mouthfuls, "you like an albino or something?" Soul looked up at the other boy in confusion. Hadn't this guy heard of his family? Or did he just have no manners? Though as far as Soul could tell, it was pure curiosity on Black*Star's face. "I don't mean that in a bad way, just wondering if you got it off your parents or what." He added quickly. Deciding he would rather build bridges than burn them, Soul replied.

"Get it off my mum's side of the family, my brother's the same as me. What about you and the..." Soul trailed off, gesturing to mop of spikes sitting atop the other's head.

"Oh that? As the Great Black*Star, I need to stand out above everyone else in not only my actions but also appearance!" He answered cheerily, waving his spoon in the air.

"Huh, you don't say." Soul replied.

Okay, so this guy was a little strange but he seemed friendly enough – in Soul's mind not threatening to beat him into a bloody mess was considered friendly - perhaps his initial fears about this place were unfounded. Then again there were a couple of older teens currently giving Soul daggers from the other side of the room as they ate their breakfasts in what Soul assumed was supposed to be a somewhat menacing manner. Soul hoped to God that he hadn't conned them in the past, now that he thought about it they did look kinda familiar. He turned away, futilely trying to shield his face with his hand.

"What you in for anyway?" The question offered a good enough distraction as Soul mulled over his answer. Technically he had committed plenty of crimes that warranted a spell in the Detention Centre, but ironically enough it was a crime he didn't do that he was being held here for.

"It's… complicated, I guess." That was the best answer he could think of. "I'm in here for something I didn't do, but kinda am to blame for."

"You kill someone?" Black*Star asked nonchalantly.

"What? No! I just… I got on the wrong side of some guys and, well… Now they're in hospital." Soul finished glumly. Black*Star's eyes widened slightly and he opened his mouth to reply, but before he could question further, Soul interrupted him. "And yourself?" Black*Star leaned back in his chair and hummed as though he was unsure.

"This is my… third or fourth time here, I can't remember. Robbery, mainly. I get into a lot of fights as well. Counsellor says I've an argumentative temperament." He emphasised the last two words with finger quotes. He shrugged. "Not my fault people don't accept me as their better."

Well it was no wonder he kept getting into fights, Soul thought, coming out with lines like that. He wondered if Black*Star even realised what he was saying.

"Guess the celebrities are too good to sit with the rest of us." A voice interrupted. A dark-haired teen flanked by three others approached the table and stood with his arms crossed, staring at the two with an unnecessary amount of contempt. Oh Hell, it was that guy from across the room. Quick, act like you've never seen him before. Whilst Soul found himself suddenly staring at the table top with great interest, Black*Star stood up boldly with his hands on his hips.

"A big man such as myself cannot sit with smaller individuals." He smiled widely. Soul gaped at him, was he trying to cause trouble? The other inmate was in a similar state of bewilderment.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said-" Soul stood quickly and put his hand over Black*Star's mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence.

"Pay no attention to him, the guy's deluded. It's sad, really." Soul replied with a nervous laugh. Black*Star wriggled free, frowning at Soul for cutting him off mid-speech.

"Yeah you're right. Poor little Black*Star, lost it after his family were all gunned down by the cops." The guy said with fake sympathy while his lackeys chuckled behind him. The boy in question lowered his eyes to the ground, fists beginning to clench at his sides. "Aww see he's getting all shy now." The guy went to pat Black*Star's head, but some awkward sense of loyalty to his cellmate took over Soul, and he swiftly grabbed the outstretched hand.

"Hey, that's enough."

The guy looked almost shocked. His friends murmured quietly to one another, as if Soul had just committed blasphemy.

"You're an Evans, right?" Soul's eyes narrowed, he didn't like where this was headed. "What, mum and dad not give you enough money?" Okay, this guy was a dick.

"Hey didn't I con you one time?" Soul bit back. The other guy went red, either out of embarrassment or anger from the memory, Soul couldn't quite tell but he decided to bite further.

"At least I don't fall for cheap card tricks a five year old could see through." He smiled cockily.

"You little fuck." He wrenched his wrist free of Soul's grasp.

"Hey now, you don't wanna mess with this guy," Black*Star suddenly proclaimed enthusiastically, surprising Soul as much as the others. He patted his hands on Soul's shoulders. "He's a murderer." Soul could have smacked himself on the forehead, the teen looked as if he was either going to hit Soul or burst out laughing. By some twist of fortune, however, in that moment a voice broke through the tension between them.

"Problem boys?" It asked with overt sweetness. A smartly-dressed woman with an ID badge clipped to her waist stood to one side, clutching a clipboard in one hand. The teen and his two friends backed off.

"Not at all." He answered simply before turning around and leaving. Soul took a better look at the newcomer. She was blonde and not much taller than himself and Black*Star, all around she was overly cheerful and relatively harmless. However when the woman looked right at him there was a coldness in her eyes that had the hairs on Soul's neck standing up. From Black*Star's expression, Soul could tell that he didn't think much of her either.

"You're new." She stated simply. "I hope you're adjusting well Mr…" She expected an answer but Soul remained silent. After a few moments she gave up and grasped the clipboard with both hands. "Right, well I'm sure I'll be seeing you at some point in the future." She turned to Black*Star. "As for you it's time for your weekly session, I trust you're ready?" The boy in question sighed and nodded. "That's good. Off we go." She turned and headed towards the exit with Black*Star trudging behind as if he was headed to the gallows.

Huh. Soul assumed she must have been the counsellor Black*Star mentioned earlier. He stood for a moment. Now that the threat had subsided and the only person he knew had gone, it was almost lonely. It didn't seem like the appropriate situation to try to network with the other inmates, especially after almost getting in a fight with some of them. Instead, he sat quietly and awkwardly, attempting to eat some breakfast.

This was a lot more boring than he assumed it would be. After breakfast it was time for classes, just like in school only here the kids had even worse attention spans. Apparently it was so the inmates wouldn't be too far behind in school once they were released from the detention centre, not that it really made a difference. Most of the time he spent staring at a portrait of Shinigami-sama that was hung on the wall next to the whiteboard whilst the teacher was trying to stop kids from whaling on eachother. Why did he always look so happy anyway?

Lunch was a dull affair too, and Soul was beginning to wonder where his new blue-haired acquaintance had gotten to, surely counselling sessions weren't this long? Soul was already dreading his enough. After he'd eaten it was designated recreation time in the centre which as he found out meant anything from hanging out in the games room, watching television, or enjoying the fresh air outside.

And thus Soul found himself sat in the centre's large (but completely enclosed) outdoor area, lazing on an old wooden bench with Death City's summer sun radiating against his closed eyelids. He'd managed to bum a cigarette off one of the other inmates and was currently enjoying the poisonous toxins, despite being only fifteen. Well, the guards didn't seem to mind or even care. In fact the whole thing reminded him sharply of that one time he got drunk at his parents' party without anyone so much as batting an eyelid. He smiled fondly at the memory, as one would when recounting silly things they did in their childhood.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled.

"You know smoking kills." A voice interrupted the peace. Soul frowned and exhaled.

"What are you my mother?" He grumbled and opened his eyes, using one hand to shield against the bright sunlight. Although the figure was nearly silhouetted, there was no confusion as to who belonged to the outrageous spikes.

"Oh, hey." Soul greeted.

Black*Star unceremoniously plopped himself down next to Soul and grabbed the lit cigarette out of his hands, raising it to his mouth. "What happened to smoking kills?"

"Yeah well…" He answered grumpily. After inhaling though, the blue-haired boy immediately began to cough and splutter, Soul couldn't help but laugh. Black*Star made a sour face and handed the cigarette back to Soul.

"Ugh that's disgusting" He wheezed out between coughs.

"Then why…?"

"it seemed like a good idea… it wasn't." As Black*Star regained himself, Soul stubbed the cigarette out on the bench and turned to his new friend who was currently slouched over himself.

"So, rough counselling session?"

"I hate that bitch." The other answered bitterly with an expression of upmost contempt. "You know the blonde one from earlier. She has this way of… getting inside your head… it's fucking creepy." Black*Star shivered. Huh, so Soul wasn't the only one who was getting a bad vibe from her.

"Thought that's what counsellors were supposed to do."

"Not like this though, I've seen guys who have been completely reformed after therapy with her, like hardened criminals turned into one hundred percent law abiding, God-fearing citizens."

Soul frowned in confusion.

"Isn't that sort of a good thing?"

"well yeah," Black*Star agreed, "but it's like they're not themselves anymore, like whatever they were has been burnt out and they're just an empty shell." Soul frowned in disbelief.

"What, like in that movie with the aliens and giant pea pods?" Soul joked.

"Exactly." Black*Star replied with a completely serious face. He's just being over-dramatic, Soul thought. In fact, from what he'd seen so far at the centre, Black*Star only knew how to do over-dramatic. Soul smiled at shook his head.

"Whatever you say man."

"Just wait until you're actually there, one word and you'll be crying like a five year old telling her your life story." Black*Star looked into the distance and shook his head. After a moment he sat up and clicked his fingers like he'd just remembered something. He reached into the pocket of his standard issue grey trousers and pulled out the well-worn set of playing cards that Soul had spotted earlier in their cell. "Speaking of which, what did you mean about using card tricks on those assholes from earlier?" Black*Star looked at Soul expectantly, the latter sighed.

"Oh that. It's just a stupid scam, most people know it's a scam but occasionally you'll get someone who doesn't. Ever heard of the three-card monte?" Soul asked, taking the cards from Black*Star as he did so. Black*Star looked blankly at him and shook his head.

"You know the one where you have three cards, shuffle them face down on a table whilst telling the mark to keep his eye on one. If he can find the card after they've been shuffled then he's won the game."

Soul picked out three cards from the pack and showed them to Black*Star, two kings and an ace. He moved to create space between them and placed the cards face down in a line on the bench.

"Okay so here's the ace," Soul lifted up the ace and showed Black*Star, before placing it back down. "You just have to follow it." Soul began to pick up the cards and expertly began shuffling them. He glance up at Black*Star who was animatedly concentrating on following the cards.

He placed the cards down. "Now you tell me, which one's the ace?" He asked. Black*Star barely hesitated before pointing at one.

"That one." Soul lifted it up and sure enough, it was the ace that was revealed.

"Very good. And again." Soul repeated the process a couple of times, Black*Star winning each time.

"I don't get how this is a trick." He announced after a while.

"This is only the start. Now you know how to win, why don't you try betting on it?" Soul asked.

"I don't have any money." Black*Star deadpanned.

"Okay well, let's just say hypothetically. The point is, you've now put money on the table, and we play again."

Black*Star looked at him suspiciously, but played along a few more times. Though this time, the blue-haired teen could only ever find one the kings. By the fifth go, Black*Star was beginning to grow agitated.

"Okay how are you doing that?"

"It's just a sleight of hand, I make you believe I'm moving one card when it is in fact another. The point is by now you've lost all your money and I have it." Soul grinned.

"So how do you do it?"

And so Soul spent the rest of the afternoon trying to teach Black*Star how to play the three-card monte scam. It was an odd feeling, teaching someone a trick instead of using it to con them out of their money. As you could imagine, Soul's extracurricular hobby resulted in him being surrounded by less than trustworthy people most of the time, thus it was particularly difficult to find friends. Being able to share this side of his life with someone and not having to lie or hide behind a persona was definitely not what he was used to. Soul decided he liked it.

Before they knew it, the sun was beginning to wane in the sky and their peace was interrupted by the wailing of a loud bell throughout the area, they were being called back inside. The few inmates still wandering around outside stopped whatever they were doing to walk slowly towards the double doors, where guards stood posted on each side to usher everyone in and make sure no one remained. Black*Star reluctantly gathered the playing cards and stuffed them back in his pocket and sighed, for a moment he looked as if he was mulling something over.

Soul shrugged it off and the two stood and followed suit, joining the queue of inmates. As the two were still just about out of earshot of the guards, Black*Star suddenly tugged on Soul's arm, pulling him slightly to one side.

"Hey Soul."

The boy in question checked to see no one had noticed or was paying particular attention, before looking at Black*Star expectantly.

"What is it?" Soul asked, almost worriedly. Black*Star took a deep breath before continuing.

"You wanna break out of here?"