This will be a series of one-shots about the problems a certain man has to face throughout his life, that man being Yajirobe. I'm writing this mainly to get back into this writing style before I start pounding out chapters of Finding Rubble from Rubies again, so fans of that story, just wait a little longer. It's hard to jump back in!
Problem One: Authorities
Yajirobe was hungry. There was no denying such a crucial fact, not when his monstrous stomach groaned so loudly that he was certain the wolves in the distance were howling along with it. He glanced up to the dark sky, wondering just how much longer it would take to reach the nearest town. He could have simply stopped along the side of the road and caught one of those howling wolves, tossing him over a fire and having him for a midnight snack. But that was too much work, and Yajirobe couldn't find the energy to work. Going to a store was far easier, and as he patted the familiar, woven texture of the bag he usually had tied around his waist, he was disappointed. No, there was not one Senzu Bean to suppress his appetite until he got to town.
He pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, the engine of the vehicle spluttering in exhaustion. It was an older model, one that even had wheels, something that he wasn't used to anymore. It upset his stomach a little to go across this rocky road, having not been repaved in years due to the fact that most people were sensible enough to have hovercrafts. But no, the person who Yajirobe had stolen this particular car from must have been an old-timer. He had found it outside of a general store in the last town he was in, if that further hinted to what type of person might have previously owned it.
And though he wasn't proud of it, this car was now his. He had stripped it of its license plate and all, certain that he would be able to reach the next town before getting caught. Unfortunately, such didn't happen.
As he cruised a little further down this long stretch of road, he heard the engine wheeze a last time, some of the mechanics of the vehicle giving a last cough before the thing stopped altogether. This left Yajirobe simply sitting there, his lips pressed in irritation as he kept his chubby hands clenched on to the steering wheel. He felt the car sink slightly with his weight, and he knew what must have happened. And surely enough, as he checked the dashboard of this old vehicle, he saw that the air pressure gauge showed one of his tires to be empty. He scowled.
Flat tire.
He sat there and listened to his stomach growl. His eyes were shut as a breeze passed by, lifting the ends of his shaggy, black hair with it. But he didn't even brush it back in place, didn't even so much as flinch. In the distance, there was a whirring police siren. It was coming closer and closer, becoming louder and louder. And finally, with Yajirobe opening his eyes and looking straight ahead of him at the road that stretched out beyond the horizon, he felt the presence of an approaching man and a hovercraft. He clenched his teeth as another car, this one floating, pulled up to his own. And it was a characteristic blue with white stripes painted down it, red lights still flashing through the night's darkness even as the siren stopped.
Yajirobe was annoyed, if his stomach was a testament to that. It gave out an unceremoniously loud gurgle before Yajirobe even bothered to turn his head and face the officer to his left. The officer looked back at him as he lifted those nifty dark sunglasses off of his thin face and perched them precariously on top of his white helmet. But Yajirobe was unimpressed, this police officer looking just as unsuspecting as the rest of his warrior-like capabilities.
The fat samurai simply stared at the officer, who had stepped out of his car and had begun rambling on about the usual things he heard whenever he was pulled over. Things about no license plate, lack of identification, stripped vehicle, and so on. And though Yajirobe was in no mood to hear of such things, he rested his flabby arm on the leather interior of the car where the window was rolled down, as he always kept it. The tall, lanky officer was continuing on and on, going so far as to stick his crooked neck into the car, pushing the boundaries of Yajirobe's personal space. But the swordsman continued ignoring him with a certain coolness, allowing thoughts of how hungry he was to pervade his mind instead as his gaze wondered. Had he not stolen a car with wheels and then gotten a flat tire and then gotten pulled over by a cop, perhaps he would have been sitting down in some diner, involving a good four-course meal. Of course, this was Yajirobe. With his lucky, he was just glad that it hadn't begun raining.
The skies were very clear that moonless night, but the wolves kept baying in the background. It was finally when Yajirobe thought the officer had stopped with the usual speech that he slid across the front seat, plopping down in the passenger's seat to the officer's surprise. Then he opened the door and got out, standing up and patting his traditional warrior's robe down with care. He placed a cautious hand to the hilt of his katana, hanging dutifully at his side, and walked around the car. Then, with the thin police officer leering at him suspiciously, he said, "Hey! C'mere."
It wasn't a threat, but the officer still had his hand cautiously on the butt of his gun hanging in a holster around his waist. He stepped closer to the fat samurai, far shorter than he was, but also far stockier. He didn't even notice the sword at Yajirobe's side, and so he merely edged cautiously towards him. But to his misfortune, he had gotten within Yajirobe's range as he proclaimed, "I'm hungry."
"I d-" But before the cop could even get two words out, Yajirobe had knocked him down with a skillful punch to the head. He peered down for a moment at the police officer, thinking it to be curious that each police officer was taken down so easily. But they all looked the same after having done this so many times, and so the body didn't really intrigue him for very long. He left the officer unconscious, certain that somebody would find the fainted man in the morning. But as of now, Yajirobe simply hopped into the officer's car, not even bothering with the license plate. He turned the key that was in the ignition, slammed the door shut, and allowed the car to levitate off of the ground by a foot or so. He slammed down quickly on the gas pedal so as to get to his destination in record timing, abandoning the officer and the car.
And Korin always asked how he got away with stealing vehicles without dealing with the cops.
