"Innocent Eyes"
Part Four (The Necessity of Being 'Clean') ==
by Vilsy
Jet Grind Radio and all the related characters, locations, etc. belong to Sega Enterprises... etc. There's some foul language/violence used in this chapter. All that good stuff... x__x;; Enjoy
"Honestly, Gum-chan!" Mew was giggling, nearly falling off the row of washing machines she was sitting on. "Don't those chafe you?"
Gum smirked as she separated her undergarments from that of her fellow GGs. Mew was mocking her for her only pair of thong panties that she owned. "Mind your own business," she mumbled, pulling more of the warm, dry laundry out of the dryer they had been using at the local Laundromat. The GGs may have been runaways, but they needed clean clothes like everyone else.
Mew just snickered and banged the back of her skates against the metal surfaces of the washing machines as she swung her legs, creating an obnoxious *clang clang clang* sound. "They make you 'feel like a woman'?" she pried, obviously intrigued by the whole subject or else she would have dropped it by now.
Gum slammed both hands on top of the dryers, leaning forward in a pose that denoted extreme annoyance. Mew waited for a response, keeping her feet still. Gum replied by grabbing a random pair of boxer shorts, turning and hurling them at her companion. Mew sweatdropped as she got fwapped in the face with a warm pair of men's underwear. Gum grinned and walked over to the wash machine Mew was sitting on, and jabbed her forefinger into the poor girl's forehead, which was concealed behind boxers. Mew lost her balance and teetered over backwards, legs flying up in a terribly awkward position. "Pardon me." Gum reached down and opened up the washing machine and pulled out their second load of soaking wet laundry.
When Gum had moved out of the way, Mew flung herself back up to a sitting position and ripped the boxer shorts off of her face. "What'd you do that for?" she cried, shaking the drawers in her fist.
Gum was facing away from her now, slowly feeding each wet shirt and pair of jeans into the dryer. "I wonder whose those are."
Mew blinked a few times. "Eh?" She then looked at the item she had clenched in her hand and sweatdropped again. She blushed bright red and tossed the boxers back into the pile of clean, dry clothes beside Gum. "Ew..." she managed to squeak out, rather embarrassed. She sat a bit more peacefully as she watched Gum drop a few coins into the slot, fiddle with the controls on the dryer's panel, then step back. "Why are we always stuck doin' laundry anyway?"
Gum turned around and lifted her wrist, pulling her sleeve up slightly. "I don't mind it so much. I'd rather spend an afternoon in here than an eternity smelling dirty boys." Mew lifted her eyebrows and nodded, seeing Gum's point. "Besides, I don't think any of the others know how to do laundry." With that comment, she clicked on the tiny radio she had on her wristwatch. Ah, technology. Naturally, it was permanently tuned to Jet Set Radio. Gum's eyes lit up as the signal cleared up, revealing that Professor K was playing "Magical Girl". "Nice, I love this song," Gum smiled as she closed her eyes and lowered her wrist.
"It's ok," Mew remarked, watching as Gum began swaying her hips smoothly from side to side. "The lyrics are kind of... lacking."
Gum chuckled and shook her head. "Sometimes there's more to a track than just the lyrics. If the words aren't so hot, you have to listen for other things."
"Yeah, like what?"
"Like this rhythm, and the bass line. Can't you feel it in your soul? It makes you move. It feels really nice."
Mew sweatdropped. Gum was getting rather "deep". Nevertheless, Mew watched Gum dance with a certain element of fascination. The blond rudie's movements were so fluid and errorless, almost like the music was flowing right through her and she was a product of the sound waves. Mew always had admired Gum's dancing abilities. They were so natural, so elegant and graceful... so.. well.. sexy. Not that Mew was looking at Gum in 'that way', but she envied her companion's 'bust-a-groove-abilities'. She too closed her eyes, thinking about what Gum had said about feeling the music. Slowly she began to move along with the tunes emanating from Gum's radio.
Gum was still smiling as she 'shook it' so to speak. Music really raised her spirits. When she opened her eyes, a large sweatdrop formed on her temple. She watched as Mew pulled off her regular, frantic and random dance style, flailing her arms and legs and looking a bit of a mess. "Mew, you all right?"
Mew blinked then stopped moving. "Well yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"What are you swatting flies or something?"
"... That's not funny!"
Gum laughed and put her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, it's just that you're all over the place, you don't even have the beat."
Mew grimaced and looked down, quite crushed by this remark.
Gum's expression dropped and she pondered for a moment. "Don't worry, Mew. I'll show you a few moves. Come on."
Mew looked back up and smiled hopefully, then slid off of the top of the washing machine and onto her skates. "All right."
Gum smiled again and rocked her hips from side to side. "Do what I do. Just sway your ass from side to side like this, and swing your arms gently, just like you were skating slowly but not moving your feet too much." Mew watched intently as Gum performed what she had just explained. She then mimicked Gum as best she could, but was still a bit awkward. "That's a good start," Gum encouraged.
Mew sighed and shook her head, but managed to crack a smile as Gum smiled at her positively. If only I could move like her, and Piranha-chan... and Cube-chan... then all the guys would look at me differently. I'd be sexy too... Mew's thoughts were cut short by the sound of the dryer cycle's conclusion. Gum stopped dancing and turned around, leaning down and opening the dryer door. As she unloaded the laundry and tucked it into the duffel bag they brought, she looked back at Mew and tilted her head. "Come on, let's get home. I'll give you lesson two there." Mew nodded and giggled as the two friends skated towards the exit.
As they skated leisurely back towards the garage, Gum's thoughts wandered to Beat whom she had abandoned earlier that morning. She sighed, knowing she had been.. to put it bluntly.. a bitch. She was determined to swallow her pride and apologize to him as soon as she saw him back 'home'.
This same sunlight Gum and Mew were enjoying struggled to squeeze through the barred window in a certain cell in a certain downtown police station. Beat's eyes fluttered open slowly as the late-afternoon sun spilled across his pale face. His vision slowly focused and he let out an agonized moan. Everything ached from head to toe, especially when he attempted to sit up. Holding his forehead in his hand, he looked from side to side, trying to figure out where he was.
"So you're awake," a voice called from a few yards away. The sound of fabric rubbing together and then footsteps drew closer to Beat's current position.
The bruised and battered rudie sat up on the uncomfortable bed he was on and looked ahead of him towards the source of the voice. "Holy shit..." he murmured to himself when he realized he was in a jail cell. "Wh-what happened? Where am I?"
"Tokyo-to Police Headquarters, genius," the dime-a-dozen guard replied, tapping the bars of the tiny cell with his nightstick. "Don't get too comfy now, you're wanted by the captain. Get up."
Beat sneered as he glared at the officer and reluctantly got to his feet.
"Now come over here. Come on, don't drag your feet, punk."
Beat turned red with frustration, despising the feeling of helplessness and being forced to obey anything a cop said. Nevertheless, he was not stupid. He slowly walked over to the cell door and stared ominously at the guard.
"Put both hands through here," the guard instructed, pointing to a small rectangular opening in the middle of the barred door. "Come on, put them through."
Beat clenched his teeth, knowing what was to come next. He hesitantly slid his hands through the opening and watched with dread as the guard pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and slapped them on to the rudie-boy's trembling wrists. Great... just great, Beat thought to himself. I never thought I'd live to see the day... He considered grabbing the guard by the collar and slamming his head into the hard iron bars, stealing his key ring, unlocking the door, then running. This seemed to be a good, typical action movie type plan, but Beat realized that he wouldn't be able to run very far with his hands bound together... or without his skates for that matter. Then it hit him. He was standing there in his socks. "Where are my blades?"
The guard looked at him curiously. "Any weapons found on you would have been removed at the time of your arrest."
"No damnit, I mean my skates!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Bullshit! I want my skates! Where are they?" Beat demanded, clenching his fists and panicking as if they had abducted a beloved family member.
With that, the guard pulled out his nightstick and whacked Beat squarely across the knuckles. The rudie cried out in pain and quickly withdrew his bound hands into the cell and backed up several feet, rubbing his throbbing knuckles.
"Watch your language." The guard sheathed his nightstick and pulled the ring of keys off of his belt and shuffled through them. Beat watched intently with a great look of contempt on his face, still caressing his sore knuckles with his fingers. When the guard found the correct key, he pushed it into the keyhole and unlocked the cell door. "Step out."
Beat knew he was out of his element. He couldn't sweet talk his way out of this one, or fight or flee. They had all the weapons in their corner and he was down for the count. He had no choice but to comply or suffer another beating. The keisatsu were ruthless and inhumane in Tokyo-to.. because Onishima allowed them to be. He walked out of the cell and was abruptly shoved into the next room by the guard.
The next place Beat found himself was sitting on a chair behind a desk in a dark room, lined with blind-covered windows. This was too much like the movies for his taste. In all his life, or at least his 'career' as a rudie, Beat never imagined that he'd be sitting in a place like this, or that the slowpoke keisatsu could ever touch him. The mere thought of it made him incredibly angry. On top of being caught by the pigs, they had confiscated his goggles, his headphones, and worst of all his skates. He bit his lip as he stared down at his socks, then abruptly slammed both fists down onto the table in aggravation. To make matters even worse, Beat felt betrayed. If it hadn't been for the poor condition of his skates, he would not be in this situation. Then again, as he later considered, it was his fault for not getting them tuned up sooner. His neglect made him even more enraged at himself, the cops, and the world. Usually calm and composed, Beat was ready to pick up a chair and hurl it through the window. If the windows weren't barred that is...
Before he could do anything rash, the door slowly creaked open, and in walked that grinning devil himself... Captain Onishima.
Beat's eyes narrowed as he gazed upon the baneful and... diminutive man, his heart filling with more fury. Onishima just kept on grinning from ear to ear, thrilled that he had finally apprehended one of the more notorious troublemakers in the world of vandalism. "Well, well, what have we here?" his scratchy voice chuckled in sheer, maniacal rapture. "A little street vandal without his widdle roller skates." Beat rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking down at his cuffed wrists then back up at Onishima. "One more punk kid off the street."
"Please," Beat hissed through his teeth. "What the hell are you gonna do? Slap me with a $200 fine and make me spit polish the bus station?"
Onishima suddenly slammed his hand down on the table right by Beat's clenched fists. "Wrong!" Beat sweatdropped. "It's a $500 fine for vandalism."
"Expression."
"Whatever." Beat was about to respond to this mockery and waste of time when the captain lifted his hand from the table and began pacing slowly. "However... there's a more important matter I need to address."
Beat lifted an eyebrow. "And that is?"
Onishima abruptly whirled around and stared Beat dead in the face. "Narcotics."
Beat blinked. "Eh.. come again?"
"Drugs you idiot!"
"I know what narcs are!" Beat retorted, losing his cool again. "What the hell do they have to do with me?"
Onishima just grinned and returned to pacing. "A few days ago we had an.. informant come to the station with the report of witnessing some roller skate-wearing punk executing a drug transaction in Shibuya-cho. Seeing as your little tribe of troublemakers are the only ones in Shibuya that wear those confounded--"
"We're the only ones who use those 'roller skates' as you call them because everyone else is scared to, since meat-heads like you automatically assume they're criminals!" Beat sneered, sitting on the edge of his chair as if his better judgment were the only thing holding him back.
Onishima obviously was ignoring Beat's argument as he turned back towards the rudie. "As common sense would dictate... you must have something to do with this. Now talk."
"I don't know anything about it. You're probably just making it up," Beat replied calmly.
"That's a lie! I said talk, you filthy punk!"
"Fuck you!"
Fatal mistake number one. Instantly, Onishima drew his gun from his belt and pistol whipped Beat across the face. Although one could hear the sound of metal against flesh from clear across the hall, Beat did not emit the faintest whimper of pain. Instead, his face having been jerked to the side from the impact, he shifted his eyes back up to Onishima and glared at him icily
"That'll teach you to watch that dirty mouth of yours." Onishima re-holstered his weapon and watched as a small drop of blood squeezed its way out of a cut across Beat's left cheek.
"We... don't mess.. with that stuff..." Beat mumbled, finally feeling the pain start to sting through his face. Onishima cocked an eyebrow at him. "We don't... mess with drugs... If expressing ourselves is a crime... it's the only crime we commit..."
Onishima chuckled to himself. "Self-expression is not a crime. Vandalism, however, is."
"You don't have anything about this drug bullshit on me. You can't charge me for something I didn't do. I'm not stupid."
"Be that as it may, we'll find out which one of your punk friends is the perpetrator, with or without your cooperation. Dealing is a serious offense."
"Fine, whatever," Beat mumbled, starting to feel very weak and jaded from all previous beatings. "You're barking up the wrong tree. None of my friends or I would ever screw around with narcs."
"We'll see about that, punk."
"Now let me out of here. Send me an envelope and I'll pay your petty little fine. This is a waste of time," Beat smirked, pulling his wrists apart until it hurt.
"Not so fast. Not only is a fine involved, but you're up for jail time too, kid."
"What!? For painting some lines? That's ridiculous!"
"That's the law. The judge will see to it your punk ass is put behind bars," Onishima grinned.
Beat blinked a few times, then leaned back in the chair and sighed hopelessly. He knew that he wouldn't be put in the penitentiary like Onishima made it sound like. He had not yet reached his eighteenth birthday, so he would merely be shipped off to juvenile hall for a while like all the other unfortunate rudies. Nonetheless, this gave him very little comfort. His spirits were slowly being crushed into nothingness. He would have to stand trial, more than likely be convicted, then spend who knows how long holed up in juvie hall. Away from the sunlight, away from Jet Set Radio, away from the wind in his hair as he grinded down a guardrail on a nice steep hill... away from the thrill of the chase... away from his fellow GG friends... away from Gum...
Beat's mind froze on Gum, and the possibility that he might not get to see her for a while given the situation he got himself into. He sat up straight and glared Onishima directly in the eye. "I want my one phone call now."
==================================================================================
Meh... I don't really like this chapter because it dragged, but I didn't know how else to write it. x__x Please r&r at your leisure. And no worries, Beat won't get beat for another while now. *dodges bricks thrown at her* ^_^;;
