Disclaimer: If you recognize them as canon, they're not mine. If they weren't originally in the movie, they are mine. No, Kiyoshi is not Swifty, if you're wondering (though Swifty does make an unnamed appearance, ohoho. I'm terrible.)

Colleen betas wonderfully and I heart her.

Cheri reliably corrects my Japanese and I heart her too.

Tell Me Lies

Saitou Riko had been a good sewer since she was a little girl. Her mother had sewn kimono for many geisha back home in Kyoto (unlike her grandmother who had actually been a geisha), and had that been how her parents met? Miyazuki Haruka, sewer of fine designs, and Saitou Takehiko, son of the geisha Yoneyu; Takehiko picking up packages for his mother and coming to love the quick smile and nimble fingers of the girl behind the silk and fabric?

Riko sighed; if only her own quick fingers could achieve the same here in America.

But no; she had to lock herself in this little dress shop with the other girls, only one of which was also Japanese, and do as she was told in order to make a little more money to help her family. Her parents had died years ago, when Riko was nine, but all the children had been working already anyway; Tatsuya had gotten his job cleaning the home of a rich family, and slept in a small room off the kitchen; Riko and her sister, Michiyo, had been placed in a Lodging House for girls; and the youngest, Kiyoshi, was at a boys' Lodging House nearby; and though Riko now lived in the small, shared apartment above the dress shop, Tatsuya was still with the Wickhams, and Michiyo and Kiyoshi were still at their respective 'Houses, selling papers, buying their own food and giving the rest to the family pot.

When Michiyo wasn't gambling, that was.

Riko sighed again. How many days since Michiyo had last come in, asking for money to pay off some debt to the tramps she lived with, the dirty newsboys she played with in the streets? Five, six days? Oh, a record, that must have been. Usually Michiyo was in every other day, feigning interest in the beads and laces, but always wanting to dig into the pot to pay back her friends. Forget that her family wanted to use the money so all of them could live in an apartment together: Michiyo had her cards, her clubs, and no money.

Not to mention other quirks Riko's younger sister had, quirks that made her whole family blush and turn their heads, preferring not to acknowledge and pretend it wasn't true.

"Riko-san! You have a visitor!" Sango, the other Japanese girl, called from the front of the room; Riko rolled her eyes.

"Konnichiwa, imouto," she said, not even bothering to look up. "How much do you need today?"

"None, aneki." Now Riko did look up, surprised, and saw her sister grinning. "Tatsuya and I are going to fix all our financial problems forever."

"What? How?" And for the umpteenth time, Riko was glad she and her sister only conversed in Japanese; Michiyo might actually get herself in trouble this time.

The younger girl lowered her voice. "I finally convinced Tatsuya to help me steal from that family he works for."

"Michiyo!" Riko dropped the dress she was working on. "You can't be serious!"

"Riko, calm down! My friends say that the Wickhams are rich beyond spending. They won't notice if a few necklaces and pins go missing."

"Chiyo-chan, it's wrong to steal! And what if Tatsuya loses his job over this? Are you this desperate for money?"

"Don't you want that apartment, aneki?"

"Not on stolen money!" Riko shook a piece of hair out of her eyes and returned to her sewing, measuring the thread with her eyes and biting it through; a skilled sewer needs only a needle. "Michiyo, we wouldn't have these problems if you would stop gambling all the time."

Michiyo scowled. "One of these days, I'm going to win a huge pot from those damn boys-"

"Chiyo!"

"-and we'll pay rent with it for months," the younger girl finished without pausing. "You'll see."

Riko rolled her eyes and waved her sister away. Michiyo pouted. "Don't be mad, aneki. Everything will turn out okay."

Riko lifted her head, one eyebrow raised, disbelieving. "How do you know that, imouto?"

"I just do."

"Do you promise?"

The younger girl smiled. "Yes. Yakusoku, Riko-chan."

They discussed dinner plans, realized they didn't have enough to go out together, and decided to eat separately again. Michiyo kissed her sister, exchanged a short conversation with Sango, and slipped from the dark, stuffy shop out into the streets, the sky still cloudy from the previous day's rain. Michiyo replaced her cap and buttoned her jacket, hitching her newspaper bag into a better position as she searched the sidewalk for her friend, Rachel. She'd told her to wait, and of course, 'Antsy' hadn't. Michiyo smiled to herself; if Rachel was reliable in anything, it was being unreliable.

"Hey, Itchy!"

Michiyo rolled her eyes and turned; the boys from her younger brother's Lodging House really enjoyed calling her that, for their stupid boy reasons. No wonder she didn't like them. "Hi, Skittery. Konnichiwa, otouto."

Saitou Kiyoshi was a smaller version of his older brother, but with Michiyo's mischievious smile. The boys at his house called him 'Key.' Like Michiyo and her nickname, 'Itchy,' it was the only part of his strange name that they caught and understood.

Skittery was one of the few at Kiyoshi's 'House that Michiyo liked, however; he was like her, uninterested in courting and preferring the company of his own sex.

"Aneki, what are you doing here?" Kiyoshi asked, removing his cap. "Riko said she was going to start kicking you out when you come down here scrounging for money."

"I'd like to see her try, Kiyo-chan." She ruffled his hair and he sulkily pulled away; he was fourteen, and had two older sisters that enjoyed treating him like a baby.

"Kiyoshi," he corrected, and slammed his cap back on, lower lip pooched out over his chin. Skittery laughed.

"He gets like that with me, and I hit him."

"You better not! I'd have to hit you back if I heard you was doing that."

"Well, I ain't." Skittery grinned. "I was lying."

Michiyo smiled back; it was so easy to get along with Skittery. He wasn't flirting or trying to drag her into the shadows of the alleyways; he didn't care about her hair or how she dressed. He was just a nice boy... who didn't like girls.

And that was all right with Michiyo; she didn't like boys.

"How much money you got?" Skittery asked, grabbing Kiyoshi's suspenders to keep him from running off; young as he was, Kiyoshi was under the impression that Skittery and his sister were courting (though nothing could be further from the truth), and it disgusted him. And that was fine too. "I was gonna meet Snitch for lunch in the park. You can grab something from the hot dog stand and join us, if you want?"

Michiyo thought about it for a moment; if Rachel came back, she'd be stuck outside waiting for no one. And if she had little Piper with her, like she usually did, then, well, that wouldn't be a very fun experience.

Then Michiyo's stomach growled, and she realized: she had an extra nickel, she was hungry, and she was going to go eat with Snitch, Skittery and her brother.

"Let me go leave a message for Rachel about where we're going first." Michiyo ran inside, left her message with Sango, and ran back outside, grinning. She hadn't seen Snitch in a while, and was looking forward to catching up.

"So did you hear about the party next week?" Skittery asked, playfully pushing Kiyoshi into the street. Michiyo shrugged.

"Cookie or Ruth might have mentioned it. Didn't you guys just have a party?"

"A few weeks ago, for Davey's birthday." Skittery laughed wickedly. "We pooled some of our money and bought the Mouth a woman. He was so nervous, almost shit himself. But she said he managed it, if only for a few minutes."

Michiyo laughed; she didn't know David well, but it didn't surprise her that he'd been so nervous; she'd heard from her friends that a lot of boys were. They liked to talk big about their adventures in alleyways and hidden rooms, but according to some of the girls in the 'House, who sometimes walked the street at night to better cover their expenses, it was never what the boys said it was. Sometimes Michiyo even doubted Skittery, who despite his preferences was not inexperienced (much like Michiyo herself), and liked to brag about what had happened, changing pronouns if talking to someone who didn't know.

"Who's the party for this time?"

"Jack," Kiyoshi answered, shoving Skittery into a wall. Michiyo made a noise with her tongue.

"Kami-sama. Don't buy him a woman. He has more than he knows what to do with."

"Oh, you heard about that?" Skittery commented, rubbing his arm and wincing.

"Who didn't? Kiyoshi told me. That poor girl. What was her name?"

"Sarah. Dave's sister."

"Oh my. Wasn't she the really pretty one?"

Skittery held up his hands. "Maybe? I guess?"

"She was," Kiyoshi interjected, face flushed. "She was beautiful."

"Oh, kawaii!" Michiyo ruffled her brother's hair again, and his blush deepened. "Kiyoshi ha koibito ga iru!"

"Iie, aneki! Urusai!"

"Kiyo-chan!" Michiyo raised her eyebrows. "Don't talk like that."

"What did he say?" Skittery asked.

"He was rude. If you hear him saying that, hit him for me."

"Gladly."

"Hey!"

The older newsies laughed while Kiyoshi pouted. This was how things were on the streets: wake up early, sell your papers, relax until the release of the evening edition, sell again, then do as you please until you get tired. Mrs. Koehler, the Jewish woman who ran Michiyo's 'House, would charge and extra ten cents if you came in after ten o'clock, but sometimes, it was worth it. Sometimes it wasn't, like that party last year where Michiyo had gone a little too far with the drinks, and a lot too far with the Chinese boy from Kiyoshi's house. But that didn't happen very often; Michiyo was older and more careful now. She was sixteen, orphaned, and could do as she pleased.

Though sometimes she wondered if that was really the best way to go.

The freedom to do as she pleased was nice, but she couldn't deny the occasional wish for a life more like... well, more like Evelyn Wickham's. There was a girl who didn't realize how easy she had it. While Michiyo was living penny-to-penny, sleeping on a thin cot and wearing Tatsuya and Riko's old clothes, Evelyn lived with her mother and servants, dressing prettily and getting anything she wanted. Michiyo couldn't imagine such a lifestyle; even as a small child, at home in Japan, her parents had worked hard, and years before they left, Tatsuya had started running messages for people as a way to gain extra money. Riko had learned to sew in an attempt to help her mother. Michiyo had always had to struggle; Miss Evelyn, tall, shapely and pretty, had everything handed to her on a plate.

And why? Two very obvious reasons:

Her beauty.

Her money.

Michiyo had no interest in marriage, or even courtship, so that didn't bother her. What did bother her was that this girl had never so much as cut her finger making lunch in the kitchen, and she never would.

And did that even count as living?

"Itchy?"

Michiyo blinked and shook her head. "Sorry, boys. I got lost in my mind."

"Apparently." Skittery frowned and playfully tugged at her braid. "What were you thinking about?"

"Someone I met yesterday." Michiyo sighed. "I hate rich people."

Skittery laughed. "They all say that. Except the rich ones. They hate us."

"Obviously." Michiyo paused. "Actually, this girl seemed nice enough, I guess. She called me 'Miss Michiyo.'"

"Not Itchy? Itchy's easier."

Kiyoshi laughed. "Are you talking about the family aniki works for?"

"Yeah."

"That old woman is mean. With the face like wet sheets? She kicked me out once and wouldn't let me talk to Tatsuya."

Michiyo smiled fondly. "Use the side door next time, otouto. And I mean the young girl. Evelyn."

Skittery's eyebrows furrowed. "The Wickhams? That's who your brother works for?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"No reason. Just... a little surprised, is all."

Michiyo hesitated before letting a slow smile cross her face. "I'm going to Evelyn's birthday party later on this week. Wanna come?"

Skittery laughed. "How did you get invited? I mean, be serious. You're scruffy. You're dirty. You're poor. You don't even wear skirts like a proper girl. How did you get invited to Evelyn Wickham's party?"

"I said I was going; I never said I was invited."

Kiyoshi glanced down at his sister; two years younger and three inches taller, and it never failed to fill both Michiyo and Riko with a sense of injustice. "Chiyo-chan, baka yamero-yo! Tatsuya will be so angry."

"Tatsuya said I could, otouto."

Kiyoshi gave her a look that like he didn't believe her, but said nothing.

"So, Skitts," Michiyo said as they stepped up onto the curb and into the park. "You in?"

"I think not. You're obviously not going to congratulate Evelyn for surviving another year, and I don't want any part of whatever it is you're doing." He saw Snitch skipping rocks across the lake and shouted, waving to catch his attention. "Besides, how're you gonna fit in with that crowd?"

"What do you mean?"

"Those eyes. That skin. That hair. Itchy, you don't even have any real clothes. I've seen you in what you think is dressed up: that pretty red robe."

Michiyo frowned. "Kimono. My mother made them."

"I'm not being mean; I'm being honest. If you wear the kimono-thing to that party, you'll stand out like a yellow thumb, and they'll know you're there. And something tells me you don't want them to notice you."

If there was one thing Michiyo truly hated about Skittery, it was that he was always honest, always sensible, and always right. Even if she wore the most simple of her mother's kimono -taken from Japan despite her father's insistance that they could be sold; Mama wouldn't part with her artwork- kept safely in Tatsuya's little room off the Wickham house, she would draw stares. Even if she went in one of Riko's western-style dresses, people would see her and take notice. And she didn't want to be seen if she wanted to nab a few items to pawn.

So she scowled at Skittery and stuck her hands in her pockets. "I'll figure something out."

He smiled and welcomed Snitch with a hug. "Itchy, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad!"

But he knew she was, and that was okay; it was only because she knew he was right.

The group bought food from a nearby cart and ate it without really tasting it; food held only the pleasure of a break from rumbling stomachs. Snitch told a story about a man who paid him a dollar not to tell anyone where he'd been found; a whore house. Snitch didn't even know who he was, but gladly pretended he did for the sake of a whole dollar. Michiyo cheered up, and her brother fell asleep with his head in her lap while Skittery teased Snitch, prodding him with a stick before quickly hiding it so Snitch wouldn't see.

Michiyo wondered how two people could be so happy just by being in each others' company. Snitch and Skittery were just good together. Good friends and (if Skittery was to be believed) good lovers.

Was she jealous? She didn't think so. The idea of being so... so chained kind of frightened her. She wanted to be allowed to do as she pleased, but she'd seen Skittery give up doing things he liked for Snitch's sake. For instance, Snitch had issues with gambling; his mother and sister had been killed over his father's debts. So Skittery had stopped playing poker.

And Michiyo didn't think that was fair.

But she doubted she'd ever find anyone to tie herself to anyway. The few times she'd gone to the Black Rabbit, where other girls like her were known to meet, she'd mostly only found older women looking for something quick, to satisfy their urges before going back to their husbands and children and the domestic life that was expected of them. Actual courting was rare, if it existed at all.

So Michiyo wasn't worried. Besides, would anyone out there actually be stupid enough to care about a rough-edged, angry, yellow little mouse like her?

She doubted it.

END

.:AUTHOR'S NOTE:.

So now we know Michiyo a bit better.

Um... that's it.

I watch too much South Park and am filled with a need to do mini-commentaries like they do.

Um... if you found Swifty, mention it! XD Aha.

Next chapter should be up soon, though I'll probably take a break for a couple days to write my Secret Slash.