Chapter One
Akira startled, not for the first time since his fate had been handed to him through the maniacal grin of a judge. Somehow, he got the impression that aforementioned judge's pockets had been lined quite frivolously for his sentence, but at the same time, he was lucky enough to receive what he had.
A year away from home.
A year away from everything he knew.
He'd never been away before, not outside of the border of his town and definitely not to Tokyo where a friend of his parent's, whom he'd never met, was supposed to be keeping an eye on him for his probationary period. His parents didn't seem to mind casting him off to A. someone he'd never met and B. someone he'd never seen before. Sure, he had the address, but what if it had been typed out wrong and he ended up with another Sakura Sojiro. It could happen, he assured himself, with a somewhat satisfied grin, though, he supposed, judging from the old lady sliding away from him, it could have been a grimace or something worse. For a moment, he considered apologizing. Nobody ever apologized to me… He thought, expression turning quite bitter as he considered the trial. His own trial, where he wasn't even allowed to explain himself. I'm bitter, so sue me. He almost laughed at his rather stupid, play on words, and hoped, prayed rather, than he wouldn't have to face another law suit in his lifetime.
His last train was, fortunately, a bullet train that would take him straight from the edge of Tokyo to Yongen-Jaya, where he was to be staying for the next 365 days, he was, naturally, ever so grateful it wasn't a leap year. It was only a twenty minute journey from the outskirts of Tokyo to his second-to-last stop of one Sakura's Residence. It was… impressive, to say the least, and he did not feel like throwing up after experiencing such brutal speed for the first time in his life. But, he willfully admitted, to himself, in his mind, that he was, perhaps, maybe a bit, nauseated.
The train station trash can didn't know what hit it, or rather, what projectile-vomited it. Akira had to admit, even he was a little grossed out by the smell, and quickly evacuated from the area before the other three people that got off at Yongen-Jaya could question what he had eaten or done to cause such a stench, for not even Akira could answer such a question.
The home belonging to Sojiro Sakura had a very strange look, and was the closest to the shops around the... town, he wondered if Yongen-Jaya could be considered a town, it gave off more of a village-esque vibe. He shook those thoughts away, and decided to ring the doorbell of the Sakura residence. There was a muffled ding….dong…. that even he could hear, yet, despite this, he received no answer, no validation of host-to-guest relations. Akira could not claim to be a good host, having never had even a friend over to his own home, but was able to assume to things while he waited for an answer to his doorbell ringing.
One. People answer the door when it rings.
Two. People should answer the door when expecting company, especially if that company rings the doorbell to your residence twice, more so when it is rung a third time.
Akira jumps when he finally hears something other than the muffled ding…. Dong….. from the other side, the side which he's supposed to be in by now, of Sakura-san's door.
"Ah right! Sakura-san will be at his café at this time of day…" Akira steps backwards, fight-or-flight instinct telling him to get out of there! Unsuccessful in his attempts to run away, or make his heart stop beating so quickly, he finally takes a glance to the person who interrupted, what would have been, his fourth doorbell ringing. The intruder was a delivery-person, a delivery man, specifically; said delivery man was holding a box, one with, Akira could only assume, but his speculation was undoubtedly correct, the name of Sakura Sojiro.
Akira considered, very briefly, to offer to sign for the package, or whatever it is one does to authorize the acceptance of packages in a foreign land such as Tokyo, but thought better of it. He had a café to find, and a Sakura-san to live with. Grateful for a sense of direction, Akira bowed to the delivery man, who made a startled noise as if he had only noticed the other human in the vicinity, which, Akira supposed, could be the truth, then he turned on his heel and went to look for this café.
Fortunately, for both him and Sakura-san's business, and potential well-being, there was only one café in Yongen-Jaya area. The name, however, was not something he was able to grasp. It seemed very out of place in a rustic village in the middle of Tokyo, even if said village maybe, perhaps, gave him a sense of grounding; as if he were back home, but home was just a little different. It was nice, not that he'd admit it. ANYWAY! He thought, loudly, before anything else could interrupt him. This is supposed to be punishment! Akira reminded himself, pushing at the glass door of LeBlanc, only to meet resistance. Once he tried pulling the barrier between him and the inside of the café was removed and he was, ever so suddenly, face to face – although, he supposed it was more, face-to-floor turned to face to face between a bar. It was, for the second time that day, a nauseating experience.
Akira lifted himself off the floor.
Now he was face to face with an employee of LeBlanc, an employee who could, hopefully, lead him to the location of one Sojiro Sakura.
"Hello. Do you know Sakura Sojiro?" Akira said slowly, the person behind the bar stared at him; Akira managed to return the stare for all of four seconds before he found his gaze on the floor instead. Maybe Sakura-san was camoflauged in ugly floor tiles?
"You must be Kurusu." The employee said after Akira spent several moment scanning the café's floor for one Sakura-san in disguise. "I don't understand all this," The employee waved his hands in a crude imitation of what Akira had done, "but your mom sent a picture with your record."
Ah, this must be Sakura-san. Never, in his recent memory anyway, could Akira recall being so embarrassed. His face had never felt warmer in his life. Now that he got another glance of Sakura-san he could see that how one might name their child as such.
Akira nodded, finally, realizing he had yet to confirm his identity of that criminal, but found himself unable to meet eyes with whom he assumed to now be Sakura-san.
Sakura-san grumbled something even Akira couldn't catch, but tapped the bar in front of him with his free hand, the other one was now occupied with a cigarette. "Go ahead and take a seat," Sakura-san slapped down a little notebook, one Akira assumed was for taking orders, but considering the lack of customers had seen no recent use. He did as instructed and climbed aboard the barstool.
"I don't know any sign language, and I'm not gonna bother learning for a delinquent like you, so," Sojiro stated, slapping a pen down on the counter as well, "You better right legibly." There was a crack of a grin, but it held contempt, or perhaps malice, Akira couldn't figure out which, and he supposed it didn't matter. He grabbed the pen, clicked it to life, and began to write, feeling somewhat embarrassed, though not for the first time in his life, over the legibility of his handwriting. He took a few extra moment, much to the assumed Sakura-san's annoyance, if the grunts were anything to go by.
Finally, he set down the pen, and flipped the little note pad around so the employee could read it.
Are you Sojiro Sakura?
The man behind the bar had the gall to laugh at him. "Wasn't that obvious?" Sakura-san did mention a photo being sent with his file, but people can get files and photos anywhere, and it was better safe than sorry. His thoughts seemed to replay across his face and Sakura-san laughed again.
"Yes, I am Sojiro Sakura, the one who is taking care of the delinquent turned criminal for an entire year." Sakura-san sounded bored with it, but the word criminal slapped Akira in the face that his vision was spinning. "Anyways, you don't got problems hearing, do ya? My handwriting isn't the best and I don't really like yelling." Despite himself, Akira's eyebrow twitching in what was the first step of his signature look when these kinds of questions were asked, instead he stopped himself, and managed to shake his head, face blank, thankfully.
Sakura-san nodded, clearly pleased that his delinquent wouldn't inconvenience him more than necessary. "You'll be staying upstairs, your parents already sent your stuff here so go ahead and check it out." Sakura-san pointed to a set of rather dusty stairs with his cigarette and Akira obliged. The stairs, surprisingly, did not break as soon as he stepped on them, they didn't even creak.
As expected, there was a large box at the top of the stairs with his name on it, beyond that was a realm of dust and, in the corner, a futon and pillow. How generous, Akira thought darkly.
Behind him, the scuffling of shoes and suddenly Sakura-san, as if drawn by Akira's ungrateful thoughts, was, once again, in front of him. The older man extended his hand, and handed him a journal. "I expect you to right down your daily doings in this. Don't even think about skipping a day." Akira blinked, then nodded. Recording his daily events? What was he a… Akira almost snorted with the urge to laugh, he supposed, rather dully, that he was a criminal in the eyes of his new caretaker. An unfortunate, but expected, outcome.
Akira nodded dumbly, "Thanks." He said, twisting his fingers. Sakura-san scowled.
"That better mean, 'Thank you so much, Sakura-sama, for letting me crowd your attic for an entire year'"
Akira grinned sharply in response.
Sakura-san's scowl deepened, but the older man turned around and left without further response or provocation. Akira turned around as well, now facing the room which he would supposedly be dwelling in for the next year. The attic of a café, who would have thought. Akira surely wouldn't have expected to be living in such conditions in his entire life. He shrugged it off, it wasn't like he could go out and rent an apartment in Tokyo, not with exactly 0 Yen to his name.
Smiling to himself, Akira dug through the box his parents sent for a few moments then shoved it onto a nearby shelf, unfortunately, moving the box had the adverse effect of sweeping up a lot of dust into the air and practically choking him. Then it occurred to him that he should probably clean this place up before he jumped onto the futon and tried to sleep off this nightmare.
Cleaning Mission One was a go!
After the bulk of the dust was removed from his living quarters, Akira couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction at his handiwork, while he hadn't bothered moving any of the items in the attic in fear of angering his host, he did managed to make the mess… less messy. Enough for him to sleep somewhat comfortably, that is.
He was drawn out of his thoughts by a satisfied noise that he couldn't well place. Turning around, he was met with, once again, the image of Sakura-san, who was now flicking ashes onto a portion of clean, or rather, what was clean floor. Akira tried not to twitch. Sakura-san didn't seem to notice.
"You cleaned up." Sakura-san observed, as if it wasn't obvious, "A clean delinquent, who'd've thought." Sakura-san laughed seconds after saying it. He tried his best to smile indulgingly but he knew it fell short. "That's probably enough for now, you got school tomorrow. I'll drive you to introduce you and whatnot but after that you're on your own." Akira nodded, not really expecting this, but he was often following with what others said due to his situation.
"We're leaving early, so get some sleep." Sakura-san turned around and headed down the stairs, completely ignorant to Akira's question of "How early is that?" Akira threw his hands down to his sides in frustration, not for the first time in his life, and definitely not the last, unless, of course, he suddenly learned how to speak!
Opening his mouth only lead to disappointment, however. He went to sleep after that.
After waking from what he might described as the creepiest dream he'd ever had, featuring a set of twins in matching outfits and a lot of chains, Akira found himself back on the first floor of Café Leblanc, his home for the next 365 days.
Or was it 364, now? He's not sure if the half day he spent in Yongen-Jaya counted towards his parole, but he'd certainly find out once it was over. Unless he forgot, which was a possibility, just like he forgot to actually listen to Sakura-san as the older gentleman began speaking about well, something, Akira already admitted that he hadn't been paying attention. I should probably do that.
Shaking a loose clump of hair that had begun to tickle the edge of his nose, the young man unfiltered his ears and the gravelly, uninterested rambling of Sakura-san went in one ear and, unfortunately, did not pass out the other.
"…After today, you'll be responsible from getting yourself to and from school. If I hear that you're skipping class, I won't hesitate to call your parole officer." Lovely, he thought, wondering contritely if he exuded a particular stench or aroma that made him smell like a dangerous criminal that doesn't listen to adults in authority. Which, Akira supposed, was true to some extent, he had, in fact, not been listening to Sakura-san when he had been what Akira might describe as ranting. At least, he thought, ever the optimist, it seems as though he cares. While Sakura-san's eyes, scowl, and demeanor indicated the complete opposite, the teenager knew for certain that one doesn't lecture endlessly without caring, at least a little bit. Not for the first time, he couldn't help but wonder how it was that Sakura-san and his parents were connected, if they were connected, like Sakura-san seemed to imply. He'd certainly never heard of Sakura Sojiro before in his entire life, nor Café Leblanc. Concerning, but ultimately pointless conjecture. He doubted Sakura-san would even answer him if he wrote it down in his rather official notebook, which was definitely not a pad for taking orders.
Fortunately, Sakura-san provided him with breakfast, which was more than he could say about dinner.
"Sit. Eat." Akira's hands twitched. Maybe, perhaps, he had grown a pair of dog ears and matching tail in his sleep. He took his seat, reached a hand into his hair and felt around the entirety of his scalp; twice. Predictably, there were no such appendages attached to his head. Sakura-san stared at him, his gaze a physical presence, though Akira did not know how he managed to do so. Akira stared at what was, presumably, the receptacle at which he'd been ordered to, and he quotes, but only in his head, "Eat." A plate, half with rice, half with curry? Unmistakably curry. At… Akira glanced, ever so subtly to the walls around Leblanc, firmly, and not at all fretfully, avoiding the gaze of Sakura-san. Seven in the morning.
Akira would consider himself a, relatively, normal individual, despite his criminal record. He woke up on time for school, brushed his teeth twice a day, bathed regularly, so on so forth. Never, not even once, had it occurred to him to consume curry at, once again, he glanced at the clock, seven o'one in the morning. In spite of his hesitancy, and submitting to the whims of his newfound caretaker in hopes of gathering a shred of decency or compassion, Akira found himself picking up his provided eating utensil, a spoon, and placing it graciously into the thick mixture of his breakfast and eventually, said implement found itself wedged between lips which haven't uttered a sound in over a decade.
He'd moan if he had the ability to do so, of that he was certain. Something in his face, perhaps a twitch of his eyebrows or something, must have given these exact thoughts away as Akira noticed that Sakura-san was smiling, this time without his previous malice or contempt, or whatever the older man would use to describe his feelings toward a teenage criminal. Instead, Sakura-san looked pleased, and possibly, dare he think it, human. Clearly, Akira realized without much thought, as he continued to shove food into his mouth to experience bliss several times over, Sakura-san was very proud of his curry. As he should be, another part of him retorted, Akira nodded along to his own thoughts. After a moment of briefly, very briefly, licking the plate clean, despite his stomach already being beyond capacity from the handy helping, Sakura-san stole away the temptation, and his spoon, which was fortunate, because Akira was beginning to lose what self-control he thought he had. Sakura-san whisked around, placing the plate and spoon into a sink Akira hadn't noticed before and immediately whipped around to face his charge.
Akira, understandably, swallowed.
"Was it good?" Akira nodded. The grin on Sakura-san's face told him that he didn't need the confirmation. "Thought so." The older man tacked on, scrubbing at his short beard with his hand before removing his apron.
Sakura-san's face went cold again, Akira watched the change without directly observing it, lest he somehow provoke Sakura-san in somehow and one of his customers ends up telling the opposite of the truth. Again. A sour taste enveloped his mouth and he rather wished he didn't eat so much, for a bloated stomach only added to his unease and annoyance, both at himself and… he didn't even know the guy's name, just a faint recollection of his voice, and her voice, and that was about it. He didn't, couldn't, regret it now. It had been the right thing to do, even if that woman lied in front of people about what had actually happened. It was in the past now, he was fated to move on, but he could still be salty about it in the meantime. He'd allowed himself this much.
"Men aren't usually allowed in my passenger seat." Sakura-san said as they were walking the short distance from LeBlanc's entrance to Sakura-san's car, he wasn't sure if was supposed to hear this commentary, or if it had been aimed at him, or if he should enter the backseat. Akira found himself in the passenger seat, unsure, and also very uncomfortably, he would rather not know about what Sakura-san did in his passenger seat, the one Akira was sitting in right now.
Traffic, as expected of a city, was nightmarish, but they eventually arrived at the school without any trouble, aside from Sakura-san's grumbling. Shujin Academy was a school, as expected; but larger than any building that existed in his town, something he should have expected, but didn't account for. Even the gates were large and imposing, and rather sharp. He scooted past them, following Sakura-san's footsteps until they arrived outside of the principal's office. They didn't have to wait very long, fortunately, for Akira was growing tired of counting the ceiling tiles, before they were allowed into said principal's office. Sakura-san looked, predictably, annoyed and quite stony-faced. Akira, however, tried his best to look smaller, unimposing, and anything but delinquent-y, or criminal-y, but he supposed those adjectives went hand in hand.
"You must be Sakura-san." The only man in a suit said from behind his impressive looking desk, "and," The principal looked down at a stack of papers, presumably the file he had for his transfer, "Kurusu-kun." The formality was tacked on with such ferocity and blatant disrespect, he wondered why the man even felt the need to address him. Akira nodded, not wanting to make trouble before his first day of classes even started, then bowed with forty-five degrees of pure politeness, as expected of someone addressing his senior.
"I am principal Kobayakawa." Principal Kobayakawa said. Sakura-san nodded. Akira nodded. The lady in the orange sweater who was also in the room nodded. "I've looked over your file, Kurusu-kun." He tacked on, eyes narrowing and contracting as if to intimidate, fortunately, Akira was growing quite proficient at avoiding eye contact.
"You seemed to be quite the student at your old high school," Kobayakawa went on to say, Akira just stood there, unsure if he should attempt communication or just let the adults decide his future while he happened to be in the room; he suspected the latter. "But you're not at your old high school, anymore." The phrasing sounded so innocent, yet menacing; impressive yet, lacking in something. Akira wasn't sure what. "But, even with your disability, I'm sure you will make a fine student at Shujin Acadamy."
Akira bristled, and perhaps it was his imagination that caused the room to drop a few degrees and the degree of awkwardness to rise into dangerous territories. He thought, briefly, about correcting the man, that being unable to speak wasn't a disability but just something that people lived with. He could still communicate with others, just through his hands instead of his lips. Instead of responding, he made sure to keep his face devoid of tension and emotion, and kept his hands very firmly by his sides, though they were clenched into fists.
"You will be placed in class 2-D, Kurusu-kun, that would make Kawakami-sensei," Kobayakawa raised a hand, gesturing to the woman in the orange sweater who had been lingering beside Kobayakawa's desk. He glanced at her to find that she was staring at him, a rather familiar expression was taped on her face. Exasperation, pity, and boredom. Something Akira expected out of teachers that had the misfortunate to get stuck with him as a student. He nodded, as expected, and Kobayakawa continued.
"Sakura-san, as Kurusu-kun's legal guardian, you will be responsible for filling out his enrollment forms." Kobayakawa said, reaching, and struggling to do so, over his desk to hand Sakura-san a stack of papers. Sakura-san shot him a dirty look as he stepped forward and leaned over the desk to begin scribbling on the forms. Minutes passed with Akira staring out the window; thinking, considering, and reminiscing on the actions that lead him here, which he has been doing a lot lately. He supposed that a lot of people thought about their actions when they landed in jail, he happened to be fortunate to have a Tokyo-sized cell to mull about. Jail. The word skittered across his brain and suddenly a sense of unease drifted over his skin, causing a shiver as he recalled being in an actual cell inside of a prison. His mind supplied he images of the twin wardens he had encountered, as well as the long-nosed man beyond the bars of his desk.
Ruin. Rehabilitation. He wondered what these words meant in reference to him, what ruin had they spoke of. This was assuming, unlike his life, his dreams were making sense; which he shouldn't expect of a dream, even if said dream had felt more real than his actual life since he'd been all but banished to Tokyo.
His internal monologue ended appropriately it would seem, for Sakura-san was finally signing for the last time with a rather loud and decisive flick of the principal's pen. Sakura-san straightened his back, and Akira watched as he rolled his shoulders and finally took a couple steps back. Kawakami stepped forward then, approaching him with her previous indifference intact.
"This is your school ID," She began, handing over what was in fact, a piece of plastic with his face on it, as well as the symbol representative of Shujin. He nodded, signed his thanks out of reflex then immediately flushed. Kawakami seemed taken aback, as if his method of communication were sign of an aneurysm instead of an expression of gratitude. Despite his embarrassment, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Ah yes, about that…" Principal Kobayakawa continued. Akira assumed it was safe to assume that was in reference to his sign language. "I don't think you should use…" Kobayakawa paused, Akira wasn't sure if it was for dramatic effect or if the man had simply forgot he'd started speaking, "that." Again, it was safe to assume the subject in which that was referring to. And again, he resisted the rather tantalizing urge to roll his eyes. "Around the other students and faculty. It would no doubt make them uncomfortable. They might even call the police on you, and we'd like to avoid any unnecessary complications considering your parole." Kobayakawa didn't even seem the slightest bit remorseful as he basically said, Please shut up for the next year, criminal scum. Akira nodded, despite the rage that was beginning to seethe in his stomach. Again, he was being made to pay again for stopping a crime. Still, he did not regret it. So he nodded again, decisively, to himself, though Kobayakawa seemed pleased enough. "However, we have decided to provide you with this." Kobayakawa pulled out a thin block of wood, then flipped it over to reveal a blank, white surface. "This white board will be used in place of sign language as long as you attend Shujin Academy." The Principal leaned forward and extended the white board. Akira was too shocked to react, at least, for all of five seconds, before he, slowly, ever so slowly, grabbed it and tucked it between his arm. Kobayakawa was quiet, fortunately, in that silence Akira tried to reign in his annoyance.
Finally, Kobayakawa cleared his throat and began speaking again, "To reiterate," His tone now formal to the point that Akira wondered if this was the beginning to a scripted message, "just so we're clear, you will be immediately expelled if you cause any problems. To be honest, I hesitated accepting someone like you, but there were circumstances on our side…" As soon as Kobayakawa began to trail off he picked right back up, tone firm once again, "You might have done a variety of things in hiding in your home town, but you will behave yourself here. If you are kicked out of our school, there will be no place for you to go. Keep that in mind." Again, Akira nodded, despite the obvious lie in the principal's statement. He had an actual prison cell with his name on it if Sakura-san found out he'd been expelled.
"Anything else, Kawakami-sensei?" Kobayakawa asked, his voice, for once, taking on the tone of someone addressing another human being. Kawakami-sensei stepped forward again, "Please read over the school rules, any infractions will land you straight in the guidance office." Obviously, from the guidance office, he'd be sent straight to jail. "And if, by chance you cause any problems, I won't be able to protect you at all." That stunned him, just a bit, that there was even the implication of protection from a teacher he'd just met. He felt a little better about Kawakami being his teacher then, despite her demeanor, she seemed to be trying to be a decent teacher.
With that, they were excused from the principal's office. Sakura-san didn't stop walking until they reached his parked car and they both climbed in and drove back to Yongen-Jaya in silence.
"You'll be taking the train to school from now on." Sakura-san reminded him as the older man made his way behind the counter of Café Leblanc. Akira waited until Sakura-san was looking at him before he nodded. Sakura-san dug something out of his pockets, then placed it on the counter and slid it forward.
"Station pass." Sakura-san said before Akira had the chance to identify it. "Don't lose it." He nodded, accepted the gift and pocketed it before waving his goodbyes to Sakura-san as he escorted himself upstairs.
The few hours he'd been awake seemed to take a toll on him, and he only noticed it when he finally allowed himself to return to his slightly dusty futon.
He took a nap.
When he woke up, the attic he deemed his dwelling was completely dark. Then it happened. Ah, he thought, realizing why he'd woken up and remained tired.
In the distance, though still loud enough to wake him, was the sound of a ringing telephone. He checked his own pockets, found his phone low on battery but not ringing. The ringing continued. Wiping the blurriness from his eyes, he found himself on his feet and descended the stairs to Leblanc's attic. Across the bar was the source of disturbance. A telephone. Akira admitted he wasn't much of a conversationalist, and hesitated to walk towards the vibrating, yellow device. Sakura-san would probably send him to jail for answering his telephone. The phone, oblivious to his struggle, continued to ring until finally.
"Hello?" The person on the other line said, sounded annoyed. "Oh right, uh…" Akira blinked, wondering if he was, once again, whisked into a nightmare. Maybe this one will provide a different message. Instead, the voice of Sakura-san continued to rant into his ear. "Can you flip the sign on the door? I forgot to do it when I locked up." Akira put the phone on the counter, did as he was asked, and returned to the receiver.
"Did you do it?" Akira nodded and Sakura-san muttered something he couldn't catch on the other line. "Just tap the phone twice when you've done it." Akira waited for all of five seconds before he brought his palm to the microphone end of the phone and tapped his palm twice against it.
"Right, anyway," Sakura-san was saying once Akira had stuck the phone back against his ear, "Flipping the sign will be your responsibility from now on. Got it?" He tapped the phone twice, Sakura-san sniffed. "Good. Don't forget you have school tomorrow." Another two taps, then without further preamble, Sakura-san hung up on him and Akira was left in a dark café with a buzzing received that begged to be put down.
He didn't go straight back to bed. Instead, he tracked up the stairs, grabbed his toothbrush, went back downstairs to the little bathroom the café had to offer and brushed his teeth and took care of other business. After that, he made the trek back upstairs, plugged his cell phone in, crawled into bed, fluffed his pillow and closed his eyes. The past few weeks flew across his mind, as they were wont to do, he tried his best to ignore the sinking in his gut that occurred each time he relived his verdict. Then he went to sleep, and didn't have any dreams about ruin or flipping a sign. For that, he was thankful. He was not, thankful, however, when his alarm starting buzzing near his face, and didn't appreciate the ringtone he'd meticulously picked out prior. Akira hated getting up, but just like every school day, he forced his eyes open and silenced his cell phone, then stared at his cell phone in awe for a moment. That last thing was not on his daily routine, but he'd make the exception for the glowing, red eyeball icon that was wedged between two innocuous looking applications. He was fairly certain he had deleted the same icon when he noticed it during his transit to Tokyo, now it was back. He suspected a virus, or something similar, but was already too done with caring for today that he just dropped his phone on his bed and started getting dressed for school.
Once that was done, he removed his phone from its resting place and unlocked it. 7:30 it read, meaning he should have plenty of time to go to the station and make his way to school, his new school. The one that had, in not so many words, banned him from communicating. That school. Akira huffed out a sigh, then tugged on his shoes and grabbed his schoolbag, of which only his brand new whiteboard was held. Sakura-san was waiting behind the counter of Leblanc when he finally made it downstairs. He was starting to recognize a routine starting to form here, for there was, yet again, a plate of rice and curry on the bar, still steaming. His stomach actually lurched and growled, begging him to close the distance.
Naturally, he took what was designated as his seat at the bar, at least, for now, and ate his provided breakfast without question, and a quick sign of thank you, before he was ordered out of the café with the instructions to flip the sign. Akira shuddered.
Akira took his time walking to the Yongen-Jaya station, for it was only a short walk on a long journey, and it was cool outside, and quiet. Two things he valued in his strolls, but, soon enough, he was back on the vomit-inducing trains that Tokyo had to offer. On said train, he was forced to stand while people all but yelled in his ears about the increasing number of train incidents this year. Akira really hated trains now. He made it to Shibuya, along with an endless stream of people that kept bumping into him, in a very short time, considering the distance, and finally landed himself in the Shibuya Square.
Umm… His mind hummed, helpful as always. Shujin Academy is on a line. He knew that most, if not all destinations in Tokyo were connected to "a" line, he just wasn't quite sure which he was supposed to be on to finish his journey. Akira sighed to himself, wondering why he didn't ask Sakura-san for the correct transfer. But, fortunately, the internet was available as a resource in place to fix his stupid mistakes.
Thank God.
Tugging out his cell phone, he couldn't help but notice, as it was fairly blatant, and a rather unnecessary irritation in his life, that, once again, there was a creepy eyeball in the center of his screen. He briefly considered rebooting the thing right there, but knew that time was of the essence, lest he be expelled for being tardy. A presumable outcome, he supposed, considering he was forbidden from even speaking while at school, save for writing things on a rather graciously provided whiteboard. He rolled his eyes while he loaded up his browser, fortunately, what line to get to Shujin? Was very commonly searched, and offered him instructions that were easy enough to follow. The Ginza Line would take him right to a station that was only two blocks away from Shujin. He followed the instructions and managed to find himself outside of what he dubbed, Shujin Station, but was actually just the fifth stop from entering the Ginza Line.
In the short time it took for him to go underground, board a train, and exit said train several stops later, it had begun to rain outside. Akira liked the rain, just only when he was inside, and not outside trying to not be late. He supposed it was to be expected, where everything went wrong in his life, a rather upsetting snowball effect. Rain on the first day of school, being banned from talking, getting convicted falsely. He chalked it up to bad karma, even though, with the cherry blossom petals drifting in the wind as they were, the sight was really something to behold. An inconvenient sight, but a sight nevertheless.
Said sight was, unfortunately, blocked by a blob of neutral colors, but only for a few seconds. The blob took a place beside him under an awning, escaping getting completely soaked before the day even started. Akira stared at the rain again, but glanced at the blob next to him, watching them… her, take off her hood, revealing a lot of wavy – or was it curly?—blonde hair and blue eyes. A foreigner, he realized after a moment of not staring. She noticed this, as girls often did, and not stared back at him. She smiled, which was against custom, but he assumed that she didn't know as much.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, their awkward not staring and breaking social constructs session was cut rather short by the arrival of a car and a rather big head sticking out of said car's window. "Takamaki-chan! Want a ride to school? You're gonna be late."
"Um, sure." Takamaki said, in not foreign.
The man with the big head turned to him next, Akira avoided eye contact, "Do you need a lift too?" Akira shook his head and his hands. He did not take rides from strangers, not that there were a lot of strangers where he was from, but this was Tokyo and he'd heard enough rumors and news reports. He hoped Takamaki would be okay.
Maybe I should have stopped her?
Akira did not have time to dwell on such things, as another blob came running past his field of vision, almost knocking into him. "Damn that pervy teacher!" The blob screamed, now in the same place Takamaki had been in moments ago. Akira blinked rapidly.
Pervy teacher? Was that man really…
He definitely reconsidered going back in time and stopping that girl from getting into that car. Unfortunately, he did not spontaneously adopt the power to rewind time and instead found himself staring at the new blob that had replaced Takamaki, which wasn't that hard considering they both had yellow hair, though the new blob's was considerably shorter.
"What do you want?" The blob said with a rather vicious tone as he began to approach him until their personal space was all but combined. "You plannin to rat me out to Kamoshida?" Akira blinked, again, as a result of this new blob. He kind of missed Takamaki, however brief her status as his awning blob had been. He shook his head, finally realizing that he'd been asked a question, a rather forceful and confusing one, considering he no longer had personal space and didn't know who Kamoshida was.
His confusion must have shown on his face, as his new blob elaborated, "In that car just then. That was Kamoshida." Ah, he thought, stupidly, as the clues were there, he just hadn't connected them.
"He does whatever the hell he wants." Blob-2 went on to say, "Who does he think he is? The king of a castle? Don't you agree?" Akira blinked, again, unsure of how to respond with his rather limited articulations. He settled on a shrug after Blob-2 stared at him, looking very insistent on a form of confirmation that Kamoshida, the guy in the car, was, in fact, holding the belief that he was the king of a high school. Akira supposed it could have been true, but he also supposed it could hold no truth and Blob-2 just hated the guy.
"Wait- You don't know Kamoshida?" Blob-2 asked, as if the silence were hurting him. He shook his head. "You go to Shujin, though?" Another question, with an accusatory finger towards the Shujin symbol on his uniform. He noticed that the other boy had the same uniform, but with a shirt that could not be regulation underneath said uniform. "I've never seen you around…" Blob-2 said, Akira assumed more to himself than him. Suddenly Blob-2's eyes lit with realization, "Are you a transfer student?"
Akira thanked whatever God that may exist that, in all of his time in Japan, there was finally a yes-or-no question being asked towards him. He nodded, trying not to be too enthusiastic in said action.
"You're kinda quiet, aren't ya?" Another one. Akira almost smiled, perhaps Blob-2 wasn't so bad. He shrugged in response and Blob-2 rolled his eyes before turning around. "The rain ain't too bad now, we better hurry before we're late."
Akira didn't even manage to take a step forward before everything started going wrong, yet again. A splitting, piercing, ringing pain enveloped his entire head and he cringed, feeling light-headed.
"Ahh!" Blob-2 said, as if sharing his pain and being able to vocalize it. "My head hurts." He added, sounding pained and annoyed. Blob-2 sighed, "Dammit, I wanna go home." Akira couldn't have said it better himself, really, and followed after Blob-2 through the rain.
Blob-2 led him through an alleyway, a rather creepy one, he might add.
They didn't get far before his companion felt the need to exclaim. "Whaa?" Akira moved forward, closing the distance between them. He supposed a whaa? Was an appropriate response, considering before them was a rather large, rather menacing looking castle. It was also night time, which it wasn't mere moments ago, before they stepped into this alley, that is.
Maybe it's cursed, he thought grimly, still staring at this rather random castle that had somehow hidden itself behind the alleyways of Tokyo.
"We didn't come the wrong way, though." Blob-2 said, pointing to the alley of which they had both emerged, leading Akira to believe, that A. The castle before them was not supposed to be here and B. the alley was recently cursed.
However, carved in very neat script on a small wall in front of the castle was the title Shujin Acadamy. Akira briefly wondered how quickly a school could remodel, if it was possible to be an overnight process. Somehow, he doubted it.
Blob-2 suggested they walk into the castle, well, not so much suggested it as much as beginning to walk towards the rather creepy entrance and Akira followed him. For all he knew, the back entrance to Shujin Academy could be a creepy castle that blocked out the sky. But, considering he didn't see any other students, he assumed that not to be the case.
"That's… weird. Where's the school?" Blob-2 said, gazing around the rather large foyer of a random castle inside of Tokyo as if Shujin Academy might just jump out from behind a corner like a playful kitten.
"It said Shujin on that gate, didn't it?" Akira nodded in response, beginning to look around for Neko-Shujin that was supposed to exist in this exact spot. Blob-2 pulled out his cell phone, something Akira should have considered doing previously. Clearly, the internet had lied in its directions or something. He blamed the hacker, wishing, not for the first time, he had the power to go back in time and reboot his phone before looking up vital instructions.
"No service." Blob-2 said, annoyed but also a bit worried. Akira was also a bit worried, but how obvious that was remained unknown to him.
Fortunately, he did not have time to consider the aspects of his face before something else happened, a rather hunched individual hobbled over to them, stopping right in front of Blob-2. Akira had the worst feeling about this hunched individual, for not only was he a hunchback, but also happened to be in a full set of metal armor and carrying with him, or her, a large shield and sword.
Ah, he thought, as two possibilities came to mind. This was either the Shujin mascot, or he was going to die. Then a third option, he was, yet again, dreaming about something weird.
"Geez, you freaked me out!" Blob-2 said, taking a step back. "Who're you? Are you a student?" The rather unlikely theory, at least in his mind, that Shujin Academy was using a soldier with a sword and shield as their mascot became slightly more plausible, judging from the ease at which Blob-2 so casually spoke to this new… blob. He should really start learning the names of his blobs, he would do that later.
"That costume is impressive… Is that armor real?" The gleam indicated, to Akira, that it was at least. Which would explain why the person in front of him was hunched over, standing quite similarly to Blob-2, now that he noticed it.
"Don't just stand there! Say somethin!" Blob-2 said, looking, yet again, annoyed. Another of what he was starting to assume was not, in fact, Shujin's mascot appeared, rather suddenly next to Blob-3. Akira hoped that he didn't have to get into double digits with his blobs on his first day.
Blob-3 took a step forward and Blob-2 seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.
"Calm down, man!" Blob-2 stammered out, looking completely frazzled. "We gotta run!" He said, now looking directly at him. Akira nodded, frowning.
"Stop standin' around then!" Blob-2 shouted, bolting off towards the exit, only for more steel-coated blobs to block his path. Akira sighed, he didn't even get the chance to run before he was surrounded. In all, he supposed he should have been more surprised at the situation that he had landed himself in, but his life really wasn't going well right now, and while this was certainly unexpected as a scenario, he assumed that, eventually, at least within his first week in Tokyo, something equally as bad would have happened.
Akira watched as Blob-2 got knocked to the ground with a large, non-mascot regulated, at least he assumed not, shield. At least he wouldn't die alone, he realized, bitter but relieved as they were slowly cowed into a small circle of blobs.
"Oww! What the hell! You're gonna break my damn bones." Blob-2 said from the ground, still not fully aware, it seems, of their impending possible deaths. He wondered when he'd turned into such a pessimist.
"Take them away!" A blob shouted, though he wasn't sure which number it was, for he had lost count when one of said blobs decided to now beat him with a shield also. He lost consciousness very quickly, with a smile on his face, hoping that he'd wake up in the attic of Leblanc and that there was lest dust occupying his living space.
Unfortunately, what his new, new living space lacked in dust, made up for in leaking ceilings, an uncomfortable bed, very little light, and a roommate. Said roommate had woken him up moments ago, asking about his health and other such things. Akira shrugged for all of his answers and started to look around the room.
"Doors locked." Blob-2 said, helpfully, kicking at said locked door which was made of iron bars. At least they had a nice ventilation in their living quarters, he just really wished there was more than one bed, and that they weren't locked in here. That, he supposed, would be lovely, but unlikely. He could also do without the random screams of, he wasn't actually sure what emotions the screams released, pain perhaps? Suffering, most likely.
"What the shit?" Blob-2 said, frantic now, and clearly starting to lose it. A crazy roommate was not his preference. He, in a rare attempt, put his hand on Blob-2's shoulder and patted him, trying to calm him. It didn't work. Blob-2 shrugged him off and started screaming also, before, finally, suggesting they look for another way out. He looked, he searched, but found nothing; and judging from the grim expression that Blob-2 had taken up, it would seem the other boy hadn't found a method for their miraculous exit.
I… Akira thought, should be freaking out right now. Yet he wasn't, yet he was the calm one of the two while they shared a cell in the basement of a random castle in the middle of Tokyo. The situation did not seem to make a lick of sense, at all, whatsoever. He did, however, come to the conclusion, that he felt rather bad about dragging Blob-2 to a rather untimely demise for daring to interact with him. Perhaps the verdict was right. He was nothing but trouble to everyone around him. He moped after that, taking a seat on the bed.
"Wait… you hear that?" Blob-2 said after a long period of waiting, one in which Akira briefly considered a nap but decided against it. He did not hear that, though. Until he did, but by the time that came around he could already see that. More blobs were standing outside of their cell.
"Your punishment has been decided upon." One of the guards said. Akira sighed, he didn't really want another punishment, day one of his probation was already going very poorly. "You charge is Unlawful Entry. Thus you will be sentenced to death."
Not good, he thought, rather idly as he continued to stare at the floor of his cell.
"Say what!?" Blob-2 exclaimed, only to be interrupted.
"No one is allowed to do as they please in my castle." A familiar voice said as a large head appeared in front of the door to their cell. That teacher… Akira realized, wondering if he had disposed of Blob—Takamaki before coming here.
"Is that you Kamoshida?" Blob-2 asked, pressing his face against the bars as if to get a better look of the man directly in front of him. The real view, Akira thought anyways, was from a distance. Where Kamashida was wearing a creepy cape and pink panties. With nothing else. He shuddered, ungrateful for his first true reaction to the situation he was forced to endure.
Kamoshida started talking, clearly riling Blob-2, whose name he learned to be Sakamato, at least, if the guy wearing panties were to be believed.
Blob—Sakamato banged on the bars of their cell, the riling obviously getting to him. "Fuck you, you pervert!"
"It's time for an execution!" Kamoshida said gleefully in response, waving his arms widely, exposing even more of himself that Akira would rather not have.
The door was unlocked. The guards stepped in.
Sakamato apologized to him as both their necks were met with cold, heavy steel.
He's sorry? Akira wondered, staring at the blade that about to plunge into his companion's neck.
This is truly an unjust game. A voice rang out, stunning him more than the heavy hands of Kamoshida's guards could. His skin prickled cold. Your chances of winning are almost none…
The voice, both ancient and new funneled directly into his head, bypassing his ears completely, it was surprising, but even more so was the glimmering blue butterfly that was appearing before him. It glowed in front of him and…
But if my voice is reaching you, there may be yet a possibility open to you…
His brain vibrated and a new voice rang out inside of him. His own voice, though he had never heard it before, his self.
What's the matter…? Are you simply going to watch? He didn't know. He couldn't move. He couldn't do… anything. Couldn't save that girl then, and he couldn't save Sakamato now.
Are you forsaking him to save yourself? The voice accused. He was weak. He doubted he could even save himself…
Death awaits him if you do nothing. He knew that but…
Was your previous decision a mistake then? Against his will, he was thrown back to that moment, reliving it in milliseconds, that woman, being harassed by a drunken shadow… It wasn't. He knew it was the right thing to do!
Very well. I have heeded your resolve.
Vow to me!
His skin burned. Everything… burned. He'd never felt so much pain at once.
I am thou, thou art I…
Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice.
Call upon my name, and release thy rage!
The burning continued, amplifying in each moment, swallowing him whole but… awakening something, a deeper part of him that didn't exist because it was him.
Show thy strength of thy own will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!
A sword rose against him.
He erupted.
First came the wind, a cyclone from his wings of rebellion.
The chains threw themselves against him, trying to quell him. Akira grabbed at his face, the chains, the mask of the weak. He purged them, tugging with all of his might, with all of his will, along with the mask came the skin around his eyes, letting blood flow freely into his vision. He supposed he should have been blinded, but things had never been clearer. To either of them.
Then came the fire, which purged those against his justice. Giant, engulfing pillars of flame rose out of him, brighter than hell itself, of that he was certain. Kamoshida backed away from him.
Akira grinned.
With a flick of his hands, he sent the guards, mere insects before his wrath flying across the cell, slamming them into the walls. But not Kamoshida, he'd do much, much worse.
Then the voice came, a scream really. Coming from him, from Akira, the mute boy. The one who'd been silenced.
"Arsene!"
