Chapter One: Migration
Author's Notes: This is a short chapter (gomen nasai), as it was meant to be an introduction of sorts. The next part will be up as soon as possible, but until then please enjoy ^_^
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Gold met gold as a youth's eyes warily scanned the cityscape's jagged horizon, reminding him much of the jaws of a feral wolf. The way a place such as this could suck you in... swallowing you forever into its depths with no hope of return. That was how things were in such a city as Tokyo; and he thought he'd never find himself looking at it up close.
No more than nineteen, the boy -- for he had the face of a spirited child, angled into an almost canine countenance -- had lived in the diminishing rural area of mainland Japan; the mountains, to be more specific. Always had he enjoyed the feel of a nightly breeze scented with everything that told of stone, tree and fauna... always within wilderness could he find his home. But such a life was not to be had as an only son with many older sisters, and a father nearly absent for a good part of his life. The youth had made do until the tender age of fifteen, when finally his sanity could take no more strain; thus, he ran off in search of a place further away from the domestic life.
He'd heard of a gang that often haunted the abandoned houses near the mountain's peak, and sought to join their ranks. Finding them was little trouble; it was convincing their leader, Kouji, a tall man of Chinese descent with midnight hair and a scarred left cheek, to let him live after discovering their sanctuary. The proud leader was unimpressed by the youth's lanky form and apparent lack of 'battle experience' (by which the act of stealing and escaping the attention of authorities is meant). However, in time and practice the boy proved himself more than a match for any member in speed and ferocity, as well as an eerie ability to vanish while evading the police.
Earning the name of Genrou, or 'Phantom Wolf,' the boy became second only to Kouji in the gang who was, in his mind, close family. He was in charge of breaking in any new recruits, scouting for rival gangs, and advising the leader as his right hand in matters of diplomacy with other rival gangs. Genrou was liked but also feared, eventually known for sporting a navy blue trench coat, ruby earrings, and a wild grin complete with fangs.
Yet, as the years whirled past like a wind in the monsoon, Genrou began to grow anxious with the daily routine of scouting, fighting and stealing. He felt as if something was missing in his heart, though he had everything he'd ever wanted: freedom, friendship and a carefree lifestyle. So, after confessing his feelings to an understanding Kouji, Genrou set out for the source of his troubles.
But he never thought it would be Tokyo, of all places. Though the streets were packed with characters of every shape, size, color and fashion, it nonetheless felt like he was an oddball, stared and jeered at by the surrounding masses.
"Feh, what do they know," he growled under his breath while shoving past a group of giggling schoolgirls who pointed at his flame-like hair with interest. Seeking shelter near an isolated light post, Genrou paused to get his bearings. He sighed heavily.
Shit. I don't even know what I'm looking for, and here I am with everyone thinkin' I'm some kinda nut bar! With a mild curse he kicked at the metal pole, only to utter a stronger string of profanity as his foot released a loud clang upon impact, throbbing intensely.
"That's sure no way to treat a guy's property, kid," a voice crowed from a nearby alley. "You might damage it."
Genrou narrowed his amber orbs, recognizing the sneer amid those words that said three words: Big. City. Gang. And apparently looking for trouble, as luck would have it.
"So ya own this light post?" the redhead called with a mocking chuckle, carelessly crossing his arms as if scolding a small child. "Didn't yer mama teach ya to share?"
"That's no way to talk to your superiors, boy." A group of three emerged at last from the cloak of shadows, the leader significantly shorter than his two six-foot cronies and leering with an ill-managed set of teeth that made Genrou want to gag.
"I'll talk to ya however I like. And since I've apparently trespassed on your dirty piece 'o territory," he turned around with a smirk, "I'll be on my way." He didn't have to see the leader's nod, signaling his two bruisers' advance to take the fiery youth down.
Idiots. As the first picked him up roughly by the coat collar, Genrou swiftly landed a double-kick to his head and midsection, then used the momentum to flip out of his coat. Landing smoothly on the cracked sidewalk, the fanged one spit on the ground to taunt the remaining flunky. It worked; he charged like a freight train with fists flying towards Genrou, who easily sidestepped and aimed a solid roundhouse punch to the base of his opponent's skull. The blow connecting with a sickening crack of bone, Genrou watched the larger man hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious.
"Child's play," he commented as if discussing the weather, turning smugly to face the shaking leader of the trio. Grinning widely, he took a jerky step forward, erupting into wild barrels of laughter as the wide-eyed leader fled from the scene in a panic.
Can't believe how easy that was,
he thought, dusting off his coat.~~~~~
Night fell quickly, but he wasn't worried about losing light to walk by; the Tokyo nightlife was as bright and active, if not more so, than during the day. Couples ambled towards a theater to catch the latest in romance films; teenagers scrambled and piled into arcades to awe over the latest in gaming entertainment; groups of women squealed and pointed excitedly in between bouts of gossip to gaze longingly into clothing shop windows.
Still, he had no answers, no clues to go on. Resigning himself to the fatigue of walking all day, Genrou began searching for a place to stay overnight. After eyeing a hotel or two, he figured that his wallet couldn't cover the cost of a room and wondered if it was a good idea to come to the city after all.
Shit, I don't know anybody here! Who th' hell's gonna let some strange guy stay at their apartment for the night? It's a big city Genrou, you shoulda known somethin' like this would happen. Amidst his mindless self-bashing the redhead didn't watch his step, ambling unnoticed off the sidewalk and into the street.
"Hey! Watch out!" Someone grabbed his arm, pulling him to one side just as a black Mercedes zoomed by at top speed. Genrou coughed from the vehicle's noxious exhaust, blinking and turning to give whoever-it-was an earful for touching him. His cursing was cut short mid-sentence as a face of concern looked annoyedly back at him.
"You should watch where you're going, or you'll get hurt. Not many people will care if you're squashed on someone's windshield like a bug; at least, not in a place like this." A man some years older, but somewhat shorter than Genrou, stood with one hand running rakishly through tied-back chestnut hair and the other on a hip hugged by low-riding, faded blue jeans. Chocolate eyes hinted with red by the reflection of street lamps held a brotherly familiarity, partially obscured by long bangs. A baggy white t-shirt snugly fit his lean, tanned figure, though a rip at one shoulder added distinct rebelliousness to his image.
"Er, sorry," Genrou stuttered, surprised by the mild accusation. "Had a lot on my mind was all."
"I see. You're not from around here, are you?" the older man raised a slim eyebrow, a slight smile reflecting humor. "Don't see many people in trench coats, and you don't look like a gaijin. Let me guess: mountain region?"
The redhead's open-mouthed shock was reply enough, and he began laughing instantly. "I'm right on the money, huh? Well, what are you doing here? Looking for work?"
Not wanting to admit that he didn't know himself why he was in Tokyo, Genrou grunted and shrugged. "Lookin' for a place for the night, currently. Didn't know this town was so damned expensive, though."
"Hmm. Interesting," his companion pondered, giving the gang member a good once-over. "You're not carrying anything other than that boot-knife, and you don't have the personality to fit any decent common pickpocket... so why don't you stay at my place?"
"Eh?" Genrou gave him a rather amazed look. "First of all, how th' hell did ya know I had the knife, and secondly, you actually expect me to trust ya?"
"Well," his gaze turned thoughtful, "I've been in enough fights to know when someone's carrying a weapon, and I never said you had to trust me. But then, I can assure you no one else will so readily offer any space to a stranger."
This was true, and Genrou knew it. Breaking into the famous fanged grin, he held out a hand to his newfound companion. "Thanks a lot, man. Th' name's Genrou."
The brunette grasped the outstretched hand firmly, reflecting back a smile of his own. "Call me Jun. The apartment's this way, if you'll follow me, no da."
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YnK:
And thus we meet our hero, Genrou! ^_^VLink:
*cheers*YnK:
Chapter Two: Dream will be up soon; it's already in the works. Genrou begins to discover his past, and why he is drawn to Tokyo.Link:
And do we find out who Jun is?YnK:
Um... sure. ^_^() I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already.Link:
O_o Huh? Do I need the Lens of Truth for this one?YnK:
-_-() Help.