3½ years ago Richardis Herzsprung got deported from Japan. Since she was a minor at the time everything was worse - at least it felt that way. Instead of being able to take responsibility and to explain the situation to her parents by herself, her mother and father had been faced with a version of the story by their emotionally distraught adolescent daughter and one from the most prestigious exchange agency in all of Japan.

The agency finally agreed not to press charges and to be satisfied by certifying the 16-year- old exchange student’s actions as illicit, thus officially giving her a criminal record in Japan. Richardis's parents assured her that they loved her no matter what had really happened and that she would always have a home where they lived no matter how low she might go in the future.

3½ years later Richardis was about to go low. Not very low – just quite low from her intellectual parent’s perspective. Only they didn’t actually know she was about to. Her brother knew. He could keep a secret. And her close friends knew, some were skeptical, some approved. It didn’t matter now. Richardis was 20 years old, legally emancipated and what not.

If only it weren’t for the criminal record in Japan - then life would be full of options now. Richardis was hell bent on going back to the country that had kicked her out. That was her abusive relationship: She had been a highly-motivated exchange student when she had gone there to stay for 10 months in Osaka. Reality soon caught up with her – her Japanese wasn’t good enough, she didn’t understand all sorts of social conventions and nobody had the energy or time or whatever to befriend her. Then she had been kicked out. She didn’t like remembering how it had come to that.

Well, Japan was going to get a 2^nd chance if it wanted it or not. Richardis had applied for a number of university cholarships, because with 3 siblings her parents couldn’t afford to pay for her studying abroad. Several German agencies accepted her application, but when the reply from Japan got back, there was always some mysterious reason why they could not have Herzsprung-san in their program. It was the record no doubt. Finally a German scholarship agent informed her that it would not be possible for her to receive a scholarship anywhere in Japan. If she should turn out to be able to pay all fines, universities would be willing to overlook her record, but a scholarship was out of the question.

At these news Richardis had thrown a fit and locked herself in her room for 5 full hours. Usually a calm and pensive person, she had completely lost control and thrown her collection of Japan brochures and application documents out her 3^rd floor window only to go outside and pick them all up again while cursing herself for her inability to break social convention.

She had brought the paper stacks all back to her room, spread them all over the floor and had sat down on the paper landscape to muse about her possibilities for the future. Giving up was out of the question. Illegally entering the country was, too. Then it came to her, that she might be able to afford her own student loans if she would teach English or German for some language school in Japan first.

With new hope she applied. The schools’ replies were all very much the same: They would love to take her on, but they couldn’t. Not with that record.

Then one night - 1:24 a.m. - Richardis was cruising a webpage with well-paid job offers in Japan and found a list of host clubs that were looking for foreign employees. 2 weeks later Richardis was packing, thinking that getting paid for singing karaoke with elderly businessmen sounded like a fair enough task considering the yen per hour.

3½ years ago Kim Junsu left Japan without saying goodbye to his twin brother. Not because of any personal brawl between them, but because from one day to the other two people whom he had considered brothers had turned their backs on him and he needed to talk to them in person to stop the world from collapsing that he had been building for 13 years. The 2,5 hour flight seemed to last days.

When he arrived – not only did they not react to his attempts to contact them, some faceless employee was put in touch with him instead. The situation was being sorted out now, lawyers were flying in from all over the planet – an acceptable solution could be found and no one would end up walking away without getting what they deserved.

3½ years later Junsu once again felt hit over the head. Lots had happened – regrouping had proved a success, but the legal dispute had lasted far too long and had left its scars. Worse yet, he still had to deal with the lasting consequences of it: Songs banned from airplay, interviews never taking place, canceled performances all over the place.

With 2 bandmates he had moved to a new label. Released solo albums. Starred in musicals. Sure, there had been satisfying moments. He was still living his dream and working with fantastic people 24/7 – in Korea that was. Japan had proved much more difficult. All the major Japanese labels were somehow in liaison with SM Ent. and had politely refused to sign him and his remaining bandmates under a new contract. There was of course the idea of starting their own firm, their very own management agency, which might even manage rookies on the side, who could be trained under humane conditions and whose talents could be fostered rather than squeezed dry.

Many ifs had been thrown around, many calls been made, many business dinners conducted before the answer became obvious: There was no way to do it. Financially it was on the edge of possible, but other agencies whose cooperation their own firm would require were more often than not within reach of the two evil letters.

Junsu had tried very hard not to hold a grudge, but with walls put in his way repeatedly he found it impossible. He loathed SM Ent. He loathed the fact they kept all rights to the past albums – not because he wanted the money. No, because they were legally allowed to proceed with them any way they wanted. Take them off the market, sell them at insane prices, unnecessarily reissue them at any given time – basically they had a huge part of his legacy at their disposal and he felt uneasy at the thought alone.

That loathing no longer included his former label mates. There was no point. He didn’t want to hate them and he couldn’t anyway. There had even been a few messages of one sort or other exchanged between them – mainly words of reconciliation. Their paths had split, but the long shared road they could look back at was no longer overshadowed by the fact that they had chosen separation.

But expansion to Japan remained a problem that Junsu would not push aside. He had spent a great deal of time there during his career and he was not going to forsake the people there that still cared. There were still many as the regularly overflowing fan mail containers from overseas let him now. He had chosen this for his life. He was going to do it as long as there were people who wanted him to.

One morning he awoke to a vibrating phone. There had been an offer from a Japanese agency. A major agency at that. At last – he, Jaejoong and Yoochun were no longer the only people willing to defy the two evil letters. More interesting yet – they were asking for him specifically to come and set things up in Japan. Humming he began his day.

For those who are wondering - no, I do not know exactly how the TVXQ/DBSK break-up went down, but I have done some of my homework: It was long and nasty. The effects on the individual members is a mix of what I think how they reacted and what I've read/heard.

I hope you liked the beginning - this is really just a prequel to get you into the background and timing of the story. Feedback is welcome - I know I got plenty to improve. Mainly I'd like to know if anything about my writing bothers you and how enjoyable it is... I must know! O_O It's my 1st fanfic and I have sworn to do good. :D :D