April, 9th. Saturday.

A young man with unkempt, black hair and rather large, thick black oval glasses jolted up from his seat on the moving train, earning a few absent glances that quickly returned to their original view. The boy felt a heat of embarrassment rush over him, wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand, making sure that he hadn't drooled. With a long sigh, he man rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, frowning. He had been traveling for at least three days, barely getting a wink of sleep during his trip due to a particular haunting dream that he feared to return to.

The victims petrified pleas, the predators slurred words, screams, police lights breaking the dimmed streets… Images of that incident flashed in the boy's mind, causing him to sigh once again. The housewife sitting next to him subtly scooted away from him, not wanting to catch whatever omen he had. Sadly, the lad noticed this and ran his fingers through his hair, sitting up straight.

The train was fairly empty for a city transportation. But maybe that was simply because it was still spring break, schools officially starting up again on Monday-the day after the next. Of course, there were some schools that started early, proven by the few girls that were wearing uniforms. Being a country bumpkin, the young man had imagined much worse thanks to all of those rumors he heard back home. Thinking back on it caused the boy to rotate his head in discomfort.

Soon, the young man reached his stop and managed to peacefully get off the train. Only one more train ride before he finally reached his location. From there, it was going to be a good five miles worth of walking. Just thinking about the remainder of the trip exhausted him, but also filled him with great relief.

Waiting at the station for his train to arrive, he could hear many women gossiping about similar topics. Glancing over to his left, he could see two girls his age loudly gossiping something about mental breakdowns. The conversation was interesting, sure, and it had certainly peaked his interest; but the boy was simply too tired to genuinely care. Looking ahead at the next station in front of him, dazed, he could see a blurred reflection of himself through the dimmed window. He was wearing a black blazer, unbuttoned to reveal a black-trimmed cream sweater, blue jeans, and brown shoes. He noticed how messy his hair was- well, messier thanks to that earlier hand comb- and couldn't help but sigh. Grabbing the ends of his bangs that just about reached the ridge of his nose, he pinched them, twisting them in slight frustration.

I can't make up my mind…Do I wanna cut it shorter or grow it out? he thought to himself, making a face. He was always horrible at making decision regarding his appearance. "Should I look clean? Dirty? Expensive? Poor?" Those were the thoughts he always had with himself in the morning, staring blankly at his closet. Back home, he had to keep his hair neat and tidy by using every hair gel he could find. Not a single strand was to be out of place. When he was younger, he wanted to grow his hair, so he would secretly skip his annual haircut. But when his family noticed, it was forcibly cut. He wasn't going to be staying at his family's shop for the upcoming year… Meaning he had more freedom. So it was natural for him to wonder if he should seriously consider growing it out. He certainly liked playing with the ends of it, something longer hair would certainly make easier for him. But the thought of having to actually use a hairdryer and a towel to dry it seemed too exhausting. With a frustrated sigh, he ran both his hands through his hair, messing it up even more, before stuffing his hands into his pockets. It didn't matter and the fear of having to cut it all off once again when he returned home bothered him.

For now, I'll just let it do what it wants. If it looks better with longer hair, then I'll let it grow out, the boy finally decided. Soon, his train arrived and with reluctant feet, stepped inside. The train was much more crowded than the last one, but was still pretty empty. Setting his bag down on an empty spot, the boy noticed an elderly woman in an electric wheelchair struggle to get on. The boy stared at the woman for a bit, waiting to see if she could manage to get on by herself. But when the announcement came on stating that they were to depart soon, the old woman still struggling with no one coming to her assistance, he grabbed his stuff, allowing a mother and her young child to sit in his stead; and rushed over to the elder woman to help her in. The old woman smiled and thanked him, to which he nodded in reply. He noticed that a number of people were staring at the two, shortly averting their eyes. The boy couldn't help but snort in disgust, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood by the door besides the elderly woman. It was typical adult behavior...

Arriving at his stop, the boy said farewell to the old woman, taking a short break on a bench as he pulled out his phone. He first went to see if he had received any emails or text messages. But, not surprisingly, the results were none. The boy shrugged at the result, expecting as much. He then closed the "LINE" app and pulled up "Navi Maps", bought a melon soda for the road, and made his way to one of the most famous locations in all of Japan: the Shibuya crossing. Much like the rumors he had heard from back home, the place is bustling with people, looking like a sea of faces. It reminded him of that one English poem about being surrounded by a sea of faceless strangers…or something. It had been so long since he read poetry for fun, he had forgotten its name.

Not wanting to get washed away into the abyss, the boy quickly unlocked his phone and began typing in the address of his new residence. As he typed, a strange image appeared at the bottom of the screen. The boy noticed it and stopped typing, raising a brow. A red box with a distorted black eye enlarged on his screen, taking up the middle of the space, causing the boy to blink in surprise. He began poking the screen, looking for a way to close it. Glancing up, he noticed that the crowds of people were circling around him, standing in the middle of the crosswalk. The boy blinked, suddenly noticing something, jolting his head up. The once bustling crossway of Shibuya had slowed, the annoying chatter simmering down as their owners froze in place. He quickly rubbed his eyes, taking a close look at one of the girls in front of him. No doubt, time had frozen still as shown by the mid-air frozen strands of the girl's hair. Feeling his heart pumping in slow rising fear, he started gazing around wildly, a large blue flame suddenly capturing his attention. The boy raised a brow, swallowing as the flame danced freely. The flame soon started to swirl, taking shape. The flame then bursts to life, a low, growling laugh echoing in his ears. Orange fire suddenly sparked to life at the upper part of the blue flame, merging into a smirking expression. The flame starts to push back, as if wind was blowing it back, revealing an amber eyed version of the lad. Startled, the boy took a step backwards, bumping into a man.

"Watch it!" the man barked angrily, causing the boy to blink in surprise. Looking around him, he noticed that time had returned to normal, the streets bustling once again as if nothing had happened. The boy grabbed the sides of his head and blinked slowly, taking in what he had just experienced. Swallowing hard, he looked at his phone with wide eyes.

I...I'm more tired than I thought, the boy concluded. Looking down at his phone, he saw that the weird app was still there, back to its small icon. With a shudder, he managed to pull the app down and delete it.

"So let me get this straight" a harsh voice interrupted. A woman with long, gray hair asymmetrically parted on her right side with brown eyes wearing a black business suit with a black turtleneck sat across a familiar young man with her arms crossed over her breasts. "A mysterious app appeared on your phone, which ended up stopping time and you saw blue fire in the middle of the streets?"

The young man sitting across from her had unkempt, shoulder length black hair to which was tied to a low ponytail. He had dark eyes, bruises and cuts visible on his fair-skinned face. The boy and the woman were sitting in a interrogation room, multiple needles scattered throughout the floor. Thanks to certain...events that happened, he found himself here. Of course, he wouldn't have been here if he wasn't so suddenly ambushed by the police. He would have been able to get away with everything just like before. But…

"—Your friend ratted you out."

The boy gritted his teeth, closing his eyes. He believes in his friends and comrades, more than anyone else. That's why he didn't say anything about them earlier despite the officer beating him brutally. But, someone had to have exploited the group's plan...

With a frustrated sigh, he gently grabbed both sides of his head and massaged his temple. The ringing from the officers yelling remained as powerful as ever. The beating the lad received from his attempt at silent treatment ended much worse than he had predicted. To try and calm him, they used drugs… not enough to make all of his memories hazy, but there were a few things he was missing… Like the name of woman sitting in front of him.

"It's the truth...You can say it was the 'gate' showing itself to me about that world" the boy mumbled in exhaustion.

"Maybe so…But there's no way I could be convinced of such a…'world' just by reading the reports" the woman admitted, nodding slowly to herself. "It's a little hard to comprehend. Maybe you're remembering things wrong due to the drugs…?" The boy rolled his eyes and rested his chin on the palm of his right hand.

"Listen, you asked me to spill everything. Believe what you will. But everything I am telling you now is the cold truth" the boy mumbled, a little drowsy from the drugs the officers injected. The woman glared at him, not appreciative of his town and attitude. The boy blinked before sighing, lifting his other hand in apology.

"Sorry, sorry… It's just that I've been beaten and drugged by the so-called 'defenders of the people'. It's been horrible, so the least you could do is let me tell you my story," the boy said with tired eyes. The woman stared at the lad for a bit, her eyes jumping from injury to injury present on his face.

"Fine, fine. Continue" the woman sighed, shortly pursing her lips together. The boy nodded in gratitude, remembering the details of that day…

To think that opening a simple app like that would wind me up here...The butterfly effect is cruel, the boy thought to himself with a snort. Readjusting his seating, he continued telling his story that occurred half a year ago.

Some walking later, the young man found himself in a residential area scattered with a good amount of people. Looking back and forth between the area and his phone, the boy nodded in approval. It seemed to have everything he could need within walking distance: a clinic, a bath house, several stores, a laundromat, a batting cage, and even a movie theater. The people walking around wasn't too bad either, so it can be concluded that he wouldn't have to worry about too much noise in the morning. The boy looked down at his phone, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

Starting today, a man named Sojiro Sakura will be taking care of me. According to the map, his house should be in the backstreets of this residential area, the boy reminded himself. Putting his phone away with a sigh, he began to walk. The boy didn't really pay any heed to the stores or the people walking around him, his eyes jumping from building to building. Approaching an alleyway towards the rear of the neighborhood, he came across a fairly simple looking house all on its lonesome. He walked up the front gate, noticing a nameplate next to the doorbell.

The nameplate here says "Sakura." It looks like this might be Sojiro Sakura's house…, he noted to himself. Readjusting his bag that hangs from his right shoulder, he rang the doorbell. No answer. Raising a brow, the boy rang the bell once more. Nothing. He soon started to rapidly ring the bell, mixing in some long holds, before returning to his rapid pressing. He was aware that it wasn't the most civilized thing to do, but he didn't necessarily care as he still had to unbox his things that arrived earlier in the week before he could really attempt at getting some well-deserved rest.

"Is Sakura-san not home?" a voice called out. The young man stopped ringing the doorbell and looked over to his right, where a delivery man stood, carrying a box. The boy took a step back and scratched the back of his head.

"...I don't think so" he replied, his voice surprisingly low and raspy for a boy with such a plain face.

"He's not home, huh? I guess I have to deliver this over to Leblanc," the delivery man hummed, looking down at his box. The boy raised a brow at the man.

"Leblanc…?" he repeated.

"Oh, that's Sakura-san's cafe! Should be down the road, near the entrance, in the back alley," the delivery man explained, pulling out a clipboard. He started mumbling to himself, but the lad didn't pay any attention to what he was mumbling about. He felt rather frustrated that no one had told him about Sojiro Sakura's cafe. Ignoring the delivery man, the boy turned around and made his way towards the entrance of the neighborhood. He soon made his way to the back alleys, where he reached a rather old-styled cafe with a red and white blind over the door spelling the words "Coffee & Curry Leblanc". Looking through the window, he could see that it was almost empty. Pushing open the door with shaky hands, he entered the small cafe.

Upon entering, the boy immediately felt at ease, finding the retro atmosphere rather relaxing. The boy didn't walk too far in, stopping a few steps away from the door, taking in the interior. For some reason, not all of the lights were on, leaving the store rather dim with the only source of bright light coming from the television that sat on top of some stacked boxes at the other end of the counter. All kinds of coffee beans were lined and neatly stacked on shelves behind a maple wood counter. On top of the counter were, most notably, a large yellow pay phone, several serving cups, the cash register, and two coffee makers; all of which were evenly spaced, leaving the most space for the barista at the center. In front of the counter were five black wooden chairs with red-orange cushions, the third one occupied with a man with black hair, accompanied with a twisted blackbeard who was lounging on a chair, reading a newspaper. The booths for customers to sit in were old and brown, but seemed rather welcoming and comfortable. The boy couldn't help but nod to himself, thinking that even if he ended up in the wrong place, he could enjoy coming here for some coffee time.

"A public transit bus was driven down an opposing lane with its customers still in it! The citizens can't live in peace if this keeps up," a male newscaster reported on the television, catching the lad's attention. Images of a subway train tipped over on its side, partially covering up the yellow line painted in the station for safety, officers and station attendants helping people out of the train. Most of the pedestrians being dragged out didn't show any major injuries, but almost all of them had cuts on their bodies. The pictures made Akira cringe, feeling empathetic for the victims.

"How frightening," the elderly male customer mumbled.

"What could be going on? Didn't something similar happen just the other day?" the elderly female customer that sat across the elderly man asked. To the boy, they appeared to be husband and wife, the woman wearing stereotypical Japanese housewife clothing and the man wearing an old suit blazer.

"...Oh right. They did say that was today," the man sitting on the chair sighed, his tone suggesting slight annoyance and frustration. Noting it, the boy frowned. As the bearded man stood up, flinging his newspaper to the countertop, the elderly couple stood up as well.

"We'll be going now. The payment is on the table," the elderly man informed, smiling gently.

"Thanks for coming," the bearded man replied, sounding as if it was an instinctive response. It sounded a bit empty to the boy.

"This place is in the back alley, so there's no worries of a car crashing in here," the elderly man sighed with relief, nodding a little to himself.

"A what now?"

"There's been a string of those rampage accidents, you know. I just hope that non happen around here."

"It's none of my concern." The boy couldn't help but raise a brow at the bearded man. It was almost surprising how...blunt the man was with his customers. And an elderly couple at that.

The elderly man didn't seem to be bothered by it though, chuckling as he said, "Haha, we'll see you next time."

The elderly couple then slowly began to make their way to the door. Noticing how slow and slouched over the two were, the boy turned around and held the door open for them.

"What a well-mannered lad! Thank you," the elderly woman thanked, smiling at him. The complement earned a bashful nod from the boy. It had been awhile since anyone had said anything remotely nice to him, after all. Unknown to him, the bearded man was watching. The boy's actions made him quite curious, but acted indifferent when the boy refocused on him.

"So, you're the guy?" the bearded man asked. The boy blinked in surprise, glancing to the door then back at the man. Realizing that he was talking to him, the boy blinked again and readjusted his glasses.

"Oh, uh... I'm Akira Kurusu," the boy introduced. The bearded man nodded, taking note to at least try and remember the name. The room quickly grew quiet as Akira and the man stared at each other. Rubbing the back of his head, Akira approached the man, stopping a good feet away.

"…Um, is Sakura-san here?" he asked softly. The man stared at Akira, noticing the rather shy and awkward air surrounding him.

"...Yeah. I'm Sojiro Sakura. You'll be in my custody for the next year," the man explained, causing Akira to straighten up. Sakura observed him from bottom to top, noticing that the boy had a rather good posture, seeming to be about 5'9. Akira stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing awkwardly at object to object.

"I was wondered what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you're the one, huh?" Sojiro continued. It seemed almost surprising to him that such a nervous kid would have to live with him under his strange circumstances. "Have you been told? A customer of mine and your parents know each other and-Well, not that it matters…"

So basically, they stuck me with some stranger...Makes sense, I guess, Akira thought to himself, nodding subtly. With all the trouble he had caused back home, it was no surprise that his father would choose a stranger to watch over him. Sojiro waved a hand over at Akira, motioning for him to follow, and led him up some stairs into some kind of attic. It was beyond cluttered and everything was in disarray with at least an inch of dust covering it. If there was more dust on the floor, it would have almost looked like snow. Especially with the particles floating mindlessly in the air.

"This is your room" Sojiro said simply, looking over everything to make sure nothing of great importance to the cafe was sticking out. Once he was sure there was nothing, he looked over at Akira, noticing the look of surprise and somewhat disappointment on his face. "I'll at least give you sheets for your bed."

...Alotta dust. Not gonna help me with my condition, Akira thought to himself, stifling a cough.

Noticing that, Sojiro raised a brow. "...Hm? You look like you wanna say something."

"Oh, uh, no I…" Akira stammered, surprised. He couldn't tell him that he had a medical condition and request to be sent to another room. It would be asking for too much and possibly even cause trouble. "Thank you for all this. It's…big."

"It's on you to clean up the clutter," Sojiro pointed out with a bored tone, hiding the fact that he was surprised to be thanked. "I'll be leaving after I lock up each day. You'll be alone at night, but don't do anything stupid. I'll throw you out if you cause trouble." He nodded obediently, finding the terms a bit...harsh, but understandable. He never planned on starting anything remotely related to trouble, but he drew his lines fast.

"Now then...I got the gist of your situation," Sojiro began, placing a hand on his hip. Akira cringed, glancing away. He didn't like hearing the police version of his story again… "You protected some woman from a man forcing himself on her, he got injured, then sued you. Right?"

Akira nodded slowly, his shoulders noticeably tensing. Sojiro scoffed, scowling at the lad. "That's what you get for sticking your nose in a matter between two adults. You did injure him, yeah?" Akira glanced away, a certain pain and anger welling up in his eyes.

Sojiro paused, knowing exactly what Akira was thinking. He had seen the look before, in many kids that did the same thing. 'I just wanted to help. It's not fair' is what Sojiro assumed Akira was thinking. He felt a bit of empathy for the kid, but at the same time, it was Akira's own fault.

"...And now that you've got a criminal record, you were expelled from your high school," Sojiro continued. "The courts ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved. In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass."

Akira sighed and nodded causing Sojiro to blink in surprise. He wasn't expecting the kid to be so...straightforward in what could be basically labeled as "harassment". Sojiro began to wonder then if the kid came from a good home… But the thought quickly went away as it was not his business.

"It's best you not talk about anything unnecessary. I am in the restaurant business, you know," Sojiro warned. "Behave yourself for the year. If nothing happens, your probation will be lifted." Akira blinked and looked up at Sojiro with a blank expression. It was easy to tell though that Akira was unfamiliar with the word "probation".

"Really now? It's the words that applies to you," Sojiro explained with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Your sentence lasts until next spring, right? That's why you're gonna be here for the coming year. Cause any problems, and you'll be sent straight to juvie." Akira flinched, a subtle gasp escaping him. He looked down, a determined and frightened look etched into his eyes. If he went to juvie, that meant that he couldn't go home...Which means he couldn't take care of his mother.

"We'll be going to Shujin tomorrow," Sojiro sighed, glancing at the room once more. It was getting a bit difficult to breathe in there, thanks to all that dust.

"...Shujin?" Akira repeated, looking back up. Sojiro was rather surprised how quiet the kid was. He was expecting a troublemaking kid with a criminal record to be snapping his tongue like a dog without a leash. But the one he got was rather obedient and didn't even whimper when kicked.

"Shujin Academy—the school you'll be attending. We'll introduce ourselves properly to the staff there. There's rarely a place that'll accept someone like you, you know," Sojiro explained, crossing his arms. He sighed and turned his head, mumbling "What a waste of my Sunday...". He was trying to spare Akira the pain of feeling unwanted, but sadly he wasn't quiet enough. Akira looked down at his feet, guilt gathering within him. He didn't want to be a bother for Sojiro, and in all honesty, living by himself in an apartment would be much better than this dump of a room. But living by himself would have created a lot of stress and anxiety…So Akira was, in a way, thankful to Sojiro for taking him in when he could have said no.

Not noticing Akira's sadness, Sojiro turned and jabbed his thumb at a large cardboard box that sat in the center of the room. "Your 'luggage' arrived earlier; I left them over there." Sojiro faced Akira, who nodded in thanks, before walking down the stairs to tend to his cafe. Now that he was alone, Akira relaxed a bit. He sighed, shortly cutting off as he began to cough thanks to the dust. Covering his mouth with his elbow, Akira made his way to the windows, pushing them fully open for some fresh air. It wasn't quite as fresh as the air back home, but it was better than the dust-dominated area he was confined in. Taking a few deep breaths to ease himself, he covered his mouth once again and headed for his luggage, kicking it open.

Akira crouched down and carefully began to dig through the box for anything to cover his mouth. He then pulled out his mother's handkerchief. To the right, lower corner of it, there was a Filipino flag embroidered on. Akira smiled as he grazed his thumb over it, feeling each individual stitch. It was a good luck charm in some way for him. Folding the handkerchief, he stuffed it into his back pocket and pulled out a maroon bandana form the box. Akira quickly tied the bandana around his face, the cloth covering his nose and mouth, before standing up with a look of determination and new energy in his eyes. He was beyond exhausted sure, but he knew that if he didn't clean, his lola would roll over in her grave. Just like she always said: Hangga't makitid ang kumot, matutong mamaluktot. "While the blanket is short, learn how to bend."

He decided to start with the windows, since it would be the most important part of the entire room. Making sure not to shake the lightly dusted bed that acted as a border between him and the windows, he dusted down the glass until the sunlight would stream through, shining on the dust particles that still remained inside. The floor was next. As soon as he got a bucket of water from downstairs, somehow managing not to grab Sojiro's attention, he busied herself with mopping up the aging wooden floor. He then slid the box of his belongings into the nearby shelf that was barely offering any space, then went off to make his bed with the sheets Sojiro provided. He then continued tidying up the room, making sure not to damage any of the houseware appliances as it could be proven useful in the future.

With a loud sigh, Akira plopped to the floor, his legs giving out on him. Pulling out his cellphone, he saw on the screen that it was 7 pm. Looking around the room, he noticed how much cleaner it was now. Not a speck of dust in sight.

"What the? I heard you making all sorts of noise up here but I didn't think you were cleaning," a voice hummed, causing Akira to tense. Sojiro walked up the stairs to the attic, his eyes wide with surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting a kid like Akira to be cleaning. If anything, he thought that the kid was throwing a temper tantrum and breaking stuff.

Looking around the new, clean room, Sojiro smiled a little. "Actually, the place doesn't look too bad." Akira smiled, blushing a little. It was nice to have someone praise him for his hard work. He nodded shyly in thanks.

"Why don't you go to bed for tonight? You don't have anything better to be doing, right?" Sojiro suggested, his smile vanishing. "I'm going to close up shop and get out of here myself."

"Uh...sure, okay," Akira responded, slowly standing up.

"I won't be the one looking after you if you get sick from staying up too late, you got that?" Sojiro pointed out with narrowed eyes, showing the seriousness behind his words. Akira nodded, a little disappointed, but knew that Sojiro had his own life and couldn't afford to look after him. Sojiro nodded back and turned around, descending down the stairs and then walked out the door. Since Akira didn't have anything better to do, like Sojiro said, he decided to might as well hit the sack.

Going through his belongings once more, he pulled out his favorite pajamas. A long-sleeved black shirt and baby blue shorts. Once dressed, he turned off the lights and plopped down on his new bed, exhaustion quickly seeping its way through his body. Despite it though, his thoughts were still wide awake, rewinding what had happened today.

Arrest…Trial…Criminal record… Akira thought to himself, staring up at the dark ceiling. A man's voice shouted at Akira, drunken rage filled within it. The sensation of the man's intense gaze still lingered.

Still, I couldn't just let that go...She was asking for my help! Akira reminded himself as he closed his eyes, finally allowing the memory he had been keeping suppressed to play.