When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, but I wasn't alone. The hospital was packed. So many people had gotten injured. Assaults, mass suicides, murders…what is this?

Every patient who could move their head had their eyes locked onto one small TV screen located in the middle of the room. Something about students in some school. Wasn't that the one that raised prodigies? Grit's Summit School. That's what it was called. Something like that.

The students seem to have been kidnapped for some reason or another. I looked at myself. I'm a captive, too. I was covered entirely by bandages and there was a needle in my arm. It's numb, but I don't feel bad.

Oh yeah, I was stabbed. The more I tried to escape, the more the bandages encased me.

Why do they keep watching those students? Why are they on TV anyways? So stupid.

One of the patients screamed out. Evidentially, the students found a body. I didn't totally get what was going on because I didn't understand this damn language, but if there are real bodies on live TV, then we got real lax with our policies or the world went to shit. Judging by how the news always goes, it's the latter.

These people keep yelling about the Baddest-Bad-Something—I don't know. Fuck it.

You know what? I never got my damn pancakes. I knew that once I got out of that craphole, that the stabbin' lunatic was next in the body count.

Damn it! Damn it! I couldn't move and this nurse kept coming by. She was really strange in the way she acted. She was usually nervous and stammered her words, but around those who couldn't move, she talked about junk in an obsessive tone. Like a creepy sexual tone. Junk. Was she a hoarder? Who the hell would hoard junk?

She thought I was in a coma, so she showed her true nature around me. Everyone praised her as being the Very-Best-Student-Something-Nurse—Fuck it. This language was stupid. That nurse was stupid. So, I decided that I was outta' there.

I gathered up all the strength I had and pushed upwards. The bandages ripped off, and I tore the needle out of my arm. Suddenly, I was fatigued. What kind of crap did they drug me with?

My stomach felt fine, despite being the part bandaged the most. Healed up nicely. I must have been out for a while. I have white hair, too. Seriously, what the hell did they do while I was out?

Ah well, I just need to find the guy who stabbed me. Do they have records here?

I stood up and leapt up onto my feet. It took me a while to get my balance, but no one even noticed that I was awake. The records were located inside a metal clipboard hanging on the side of my bed. So sneaky.

I took the records and shoved them in my hospital gown as I couldn't understand all of it. I need to find a bilingual person. From what I could tell, it talked about my wound as well as containing a picture of the guy who stabbed me. The whole report was about 20 pages long. 20 pages? Really? That much about a stab to the chest?

Outside was hell. I heard an explosion and a large building began to collapse. Everyone seemed to be in a frenzy. I found a dead guy and took his clothes. They were covered in blood but bloodied jeans are better than a hospital gown, so that's what I wore.

I wandered around for a while looking for someone who could speak English.

There was a guy mumbling something.

Got one!

I kicked him down an alleyway. It's nice when everything is chaotic. No one cares what you do. A gun fell out of his pocket and I picked it up.

"Eigo da."

The guy seemed very confused. He responded with some really long words.

"Do you speak English godamn it!"

"Uh, yes. I do."

His accent was so thick, I could barely understand what he was saying. I held the hospital records to his face.

"Can you translate this." It was a command.

"Uh, yes. I think I can."

He grabbed it and flipped through the pages.

"Uh…A guy named Pete—"

"That's me."

"Well, uh, you got stabbed by a high-school student and were taken to the hospital."

"Cut the crap. I know that, moron."

He scanned through it a bit more.

"You were sent into a…coma?…", he muttered something using the word 'word', "You were in a coma for a couple days and…"

"And?"

"They messed with your brain a bit."

"That bitch."

"Huh?"

"I never told you to stop."

"The results are unknown as you hadn't woken up. They wanted to give you a temper to destroy things." He began mumbling. "Which is true."

"What did you say?"

He made a meeping sound.

"What was the stabber's name?"

"The stabber?" He flipped around. "Her name is…Takei…Mizoru."

"Thanks."

I snatched the papers from his nervous grip. Poor guy thought I would kill him. Well, I might have.

"What are you going to do with this?"

"Kick his ass."

"But…"

"Or stab him. One or the other."

I tossed the gun back at him.

"You dropped this."