Disclaimer:
Hoji walked through the endless void alone, between death and life...in the midst of the eternal divide, he saw a light. Drawn to it, he came to where his path would continue, leaving...as Scholar of Time watched him from a beach chair with bermuda shorts on (which looks rather incongruous when you wear a long coat and a fedora all the time).
"Oh, yesh. *munch, munch* Sorry, they serve great barbeque in Limbo. Anyway, now that Hoji's gone, just wanted to say I don't own Shadow Warrior or anything other than the plot to this story. Thanks!"

~wavy-blinking-out-of-existence author~ Disclaimer ends

Shadow Warrior 2: Bang-a-Wang ~Next Time, Take a Shortcut – Part 1~

Late 15th Century Japan, Izumo Province, Yomo-no-kuni:

Hoji blinked his eyes as he stared up at the sun beating down on his face, laying on the ground, confused but happy. He fully expected his spiritual essence itself to be consumed, but apparently he was a-okay...at least until he looked down at his body. There were chains attaching him to the ground, and he couldn't see anywhere around him that wasn't dull and gray...like his slowly decomposing body. Looking to his left, he finally saw someone...a young-looking woman whose face was blurry and vague to his (apparently rotting) eyes.

"Welcome to Yomi, young Hoji. Specifically, welcome to the land of the eternally-rotting dead. The afterlife is a lot more complicated than just 'Hell', and it took a lot of doing just getting you here...so be sure to enjoy this for me", the young woman said, with what Hoji assumed probably looked like an evil grin. 'Bitch', he thought. He was far too tired for thinking much else.

20th Century Japan, Izumo Province, Yomo-no-kuni:
After 5 centuries of rotting away underneath his chains, Hoji had pretty much given up all hope of rescue or anything but an eternity of torture. Even life under Enra's thumb was looking...well, not great, but maybe somewhat less sucky. 'After all, I'm – or I was? - an immortal; we hold grudges like nobody else. Chuck Norris' beard couldn't hold this grudge'.

Preparing for the rise of the painful and blinding sun, Hoji missed the person who squatted next to him entirely until they spoke, startling him.

"Hey..."

Hoji just turned towards them, his eyes long past seeing.

"You must be Hoji – look, you're really not supposed to be here".

He snorted for the first time in half an millenia, "You think? I should be dead, or non-existent, or something...not this"

"Well, specifically, you really should be non-existent – but since that's not my department, I'm kicking you downstairs to Reincarnation. This won't hurt...much. Maybe.", the mysterious figure said, smacking him in the head with the butt of a sword.

"Hey- OWWAAHHWWFUCKk...", Hoji expressed as he quickly began to vanish, the mysterious figure leaving behind him, muttering,

"Next time, Rukia does Konso on the demons – I'm tired of cleaning my zanpakuto"

Normal Realm, 3 months ago:

'Eric' Nakamura was a young chemistry student planning on finishing his studies at Todai Academy in the Fall, and going to his mother Mikoto's ancestral home to celebrate. His life hadn't been certainly easy. An abusive father had left psychological and emotional scars that didn't really heal even with the old man's death, and surprise, surprise – the old man had left them some secret gambling debts as a goodbye present.

As Eric walked back from his meeting with the bank manager, he thought to himself, 'How special...prick. He always liked leaving people in the shit – just look at what he named me! Thank god Mom gave me a name I could at least use, even if it's an American one'.

Eric life's was imperfect, but otherwise okay – at least, until the demons invaded his hometown. He hadn't been there, of course; he was still at school...and as he sobbed and raged at the policemen who informed him of his mother's death, causing them to feel increasingly awkward, all he could wonder was, "Why?! Why do these things happen to me?!".

3 months later into the Present:

Eric Nakamura once studied at Todai Academy, but ever since the death of his mother and the cheap auction of their destroyed and mutilated family home, he's struggled to make ends meet and repay his family's debts. At first, he took on a second job at a local gym as a janitor, in addition to the coffee shop work he found after moving to Osaka. After that, he resigned himself to never achieving anything, but inside he couldn't help but ponder over and over, 'Couldn't I have done something? If I had been home, maybe I could have saved her...or at least died trying!'.

"Hey! Get back to work – I'm not paying you to laze about the place, and stop bending my spoons!", the owner of the coffee shop yelled at his back. Startled, he turned and jumped – he never seemed to get used to loud noises after the news from back home...Eric couldn't help but expect that one day, his life would end just the same way as his mother; taken apart by those fucking monsters.

*skkktch* went the old wood of the sliding door as another customer walked in. Eric turned his head a bit to see who it was from his dishwashing station – it looked like a martial artist. 'Must be a kendo otaku – not even a yakuza would carry a sword that openly.'

From across the counter and the small dishwashing area, Eric saw the 'martial artist' take out a strange mask and place it on the counter...wait. "Was that mask shaking?'

The mask suddenly scrapped off the counter and onto the floor behind the counter – bowing, Eric moved to pick it up...when it suddenly latched upon his face. With a scream, Eric tried to pull it off, but all he felt was pain and sadness – and an odd smug satisfaction, as if there was something in the universe saying, "You weren't put on this earth to understand life's reasons – too bad for you, you're about to."

The rest was blackness. Shadow.