Chapter Three- Extraterrestrial Bean Curd (UFO Tofu)
I wonder what he would have done in this situation, Jim thought. That Onizuka, I mean. He couldn't answer himself. That was alright, he usually couldn't. No focus, never any focus. He reached up, and touched some of the still-wet blood on his mouth, becoming clearer by the moment as the stream was hit by falling raindrops. The spit on his face had probably worn off as well, but he still felt its sting, that sickly sort of afterfeel one gets after touching shit or cum or some other of somebody else's bodily function. Always somebody else's, never your own. You can't tickle yourself, you know. Ok, get back on track...
Jim groaned as he leaned up, fresh lances of fire piercing his gut where the bat had struck him. Good thing it wasn't nailed. Only yakuza use nailed bats, stupid. Get back on track, dammit. Where the hell are you? The focus was starting to come back, little by little. I'm in Seibu. Seibu, Seibu, Seibu... right. Off-center of Tokyo, west by northwest. Funny how people use "north by northwest" as a direction so much more. It sounded cool, but so did west by northwest. Or east by southeast. That was a pretty good movie, though.. GET ON TRACK, YOU STUPID BASTARD....
Ok, fine.
Start at the beginning. What beginning?
You can't remember it? No.
Amnesia? Hell no. I'll remember in time. That dumbass got me only once, remember?
What dumbass? Lemme think... the red-haired one.
There aren't any red-haired people in Japan, stupid. What about Americans? And dye is everywhere now. That's how I remember him, the crappy dye job.
Right. I know I am.
Why was he hitting you with a bat? I was... resisting... him.
Why did you resist him? For what purpose? I can't remember.
We'll try again later. Alright, then.
A silent grunt, pain transformed into a puff of air through the nostrils, as his forearm scraped against the rough brick wall when he tried to get up. He fell the first time, when his left foot slipped and brought everything else down with it, including the forearm. It was getting fairly scraped up. Now flat on his back staring up into the "stars". It's too bright for stars. There are no stars, just a great big black mouth staring down at you. But how is the sky trying to eat me? I never said it did. It's this damn city that's eating me, that's what. I never said that did, either. I never mentioned the city. Right, but that still doesn't exclude it from being truth. Right. Very good, your mind is starting to work again. I still can't remember anything. It will come in time.
Jim tried again to stand up. He pushed up with his left arm, the non- scraped one, that's right, almost fell again when it slipped. He flipped himself over using the arm, kneeled, groaned again when the spears struck a second time, finally got into a standing position. He was dizzy, and almost fell over. A few wobbly steps in no particular direction. Wait. He could see stars. All of the streetlights and gaudy neon signs had been turned off. What time was it? He never would know. His watch was off. He scrambled around in the darkness again, cursing those damned red-hot spears as they struck a third time. Realization. The cold fear swept over him, chilling him to the bone then warming him as the cold left. But then it returned in the form of rain.
They took my watch. Now you remember.
Not everything. I didn't expect you to.
Punks. I can see five of them clearly. Ah... five. That's a big improvement. How many were there total?
Seven. No... eight? It had to be eight. Wrong again. Nine.
Huh. Yeah, weird, isn't it?
They took everything I had. Correct. Your money and your watch. Not that that's much...
That explains why my pants pocket was torn out. Interesting anti- pickpocket technique, not carrying a wallet. Too bad they had knives.
Am I cut? See for yourself.
Yeah... three times on my left hand. Ouch.
Yeah. So now you have how you ended up in a street. And why. Good job for a guy who's just been beaten in the head.
Thanks for the complement. You probably lost a hundred thousand brain cells back there.
Yeah, yeah. You have, what, ten left? ^_^
Knock it off.... Alright, alright.
Why Seibu? You tell me.
Jim's glasses were lying not ten feet from him, probably forgotten in the brawl, the moon's reflection in the glass reflecting on his retina. He put them on, glad to see only a small scratch down in the corner of the right lens. They were still spattered with rain, so he wiped it off with his t-shirt. Unfortunately, his shirt was soaked. Damn. The water was now smeared, less concentrated in some places, in long, thick streaks in others. But he could see well. Well, well enough. Better than being blind.
He couldn't read the signs outside, it was still too dark and too rainy. But that was alright. Whenever the outside couldn't entertain him, he turned inward. This loss of memory troubled him, however. He had never been proud of it, but this was particularly bad.
But why Seibu? It didn't have much of a market district, unlike Kichijoji... it was mostly residential. Middle-class. The place where the boring old dirtbags like Sakurai and Uchiyamada lived. Unfortunately, the only people he knew in Tokyo were Azusa and Onizuka, and Azusa lived in Kichijoji, actually fairly close to him. Onizuka? Nobody knew. He disappeared after suplexing Uchiyamada... but when did he do that? That had to have been... yesterday. Right. You're getting better, kid.
Why the hell was I here? Once again, you tell me.
Alright, let's resort to logic. Good choice.
Fact: I'm in Seibu. Ok.
Question: What interested me so much that I would leave Kichijoji for Seibu? Keep going...
Fact: Seibu has a smaller, less diverse shopping district. Uh-huh... keep digging.
Fact: Seibu has a larger residential area. Right, but...
I don't know anybody in Seibu. Right.
Ok, what now? You tell me.
Dammit, I need something to go on... Then you find it. Remember
telling the noobs to screw off and make their own armor on Runescape?
Yeah, yeah. Then keep digging.
It had to be something special. Good.
Somebody special? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYBODY IN SEIBU.
Right. Something special. Good.
A video game? You can find those in Kichijoji.
A rare one. Hah, a rare one for the PS? You can find anyone of them anywhere. The thing's only two years old.
Yeah. You're right. I know I am.
Yeah, yeah. So. Keep going.
Food? Camping gear? Porn? I don't know. You tell me.
I CAN'T REMEMBER. So remember. It'll all be over when you remember.
Yeah, yeah. Damn you. Hey, don't hate me. You're the one who's supposed to remember.
Jim cursed himself. He had been wandering for three-quarters of an hour now, trying to find the subway station, and failing. And turning to logic left him going in circles. He was closer to the answers now, but it still left him kinda dry. Some memory had to awaken, some piece had to turn up from under the seat cushion so he could put it back in the puzzle.
Wait. He didn't know anything about any of the areas in Tokyo except for the Ginza and Kichijoji. Somebody had to have told him about this place, otherwise he never would have gone. The only two people he knew were Azusa, and Onizuka. And Onizuka was unavailable. So why would he be going to buy something for Azusa?
Oh, no. What?
Tell me. Heh. You're not going to get me that easily.
I might have broken The Pact. ...
Yeah. Any smart comeback to that? Fortunately, no.
Fortunately? You might have been thinking I would be making light of
it.
Oh, well. Shit, we couldn't have that, could we? It's THE PACT, dammit. I would never joke about it.
Feh. So, you figured more of it out.
Yeah. And now I'm too angry at myself to keep going with it. ...
What? "It's The Pact, dammit." Feh. Fine. I'll tell.
Cough medicine. It was stupid fucking cough medicine. The really good stuff, from the only true Chinese herbal medicine maker within an hour's time of Azusa's house. She called you, said she was too sick to move, gave you directions to Seibu. You got the stuff, but then the thugs caught you, a "stupid American tourist" on a bad street at a bad time. Good thing you offered to pay with your own money, otherwise, you'd be owing that nice woman some right now.
Shut up.
What? Which is more embarrassing? The fact that you couldn't take on nine punks? Or that you can't take on one girl?
SHUT UP.
Your Pact is breaking. Admit it.
JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Fine. I guess I'll leave you alone now.
It's your Pact too. Don't forget it.
Yeah. But I'm not going to be as affected if it breaks.
I need both of us. You think you can sacrifice me?
Sure. Why not? ~_^
Jim almost screamed out loud. The enemy was too quick to sacrifice, too quick to be the lizard and cut off his own tail. But Jim didn't grow back like a lizard's tail does.
Buzz. A light in the distance. A subway, the way home. The way back to a temporary sanity, away from that voice. Temporary, mind you.
I wonder what he would have done in this situation, Jim thought. That Onizuka, I mean. He couldn't answer himself. That was alright, he usually couldn't. No focus, never any focus. He reached up, and touched some of the still-wet blood on his mouth, becoming clearer by the moment as the stream was hit by falling raindrops. The spit on his face had probably worn off as well, but he still felt its sting, that sickly sort of afterfeel one gets after touching shit or cum or some other of somebody else's bodily function. Always somebody else's, never your own. You can't tickle yourself, you know. Ok, get back on track...
Jim groaned as he leaned up, fresh lances of fire piercing his gut where the bat had struck him. Good thing it wasn't nailed. Only yakuza use nailed bats, stupid. Get back on track, dammit. Where the hell are you? The focus was starting to come back, little by little. I'm in Seibu. Seibu, Seibu, Seibu... right. Off-center of Tokyo, west by northwest. Funny how people use "north by northwest" as a direction so much more. It sounded cool, but so did west by northwest. Or east by southeast. That was a pretty good movie, though.. GET ON TRACK, YOU STUPID BASTARD....
Ok, fine.
Start at the beginning. What beginning?
You can't remember it? No.
Amnesia? Hell no. I'll remember in time. That dumbass got me only once, remember?
What dumbass? Lemme think... the red-haired one.
There aren't any red-haired people in Japan, stupid. What about Americans? And dye is everywhere now. That's how I remember him, the crappy dye job.
Right. I know I am.
Why was he hitting you with a bat? I was... resisting... him.
Why did you resist him? For what purpose? I can't remember.
We'll try again later. Alright, then.
A silent grunt, pain transformed into a puff of air through the nostrils, as his forearm scraped against the rough brick wall when he tried to get up. He fell the first time, when his left foot slipped and brought everything else down with it, including the forearm. It was getting fairly scraped up. Now flat on his back staring up into the "stars". It's too bright for stars. There are no stars, just a great big black mouth staring down at you. But how is the sky trying to eat me? I never said it did. It's this damn city that's eating me, that's what. I never said that did, either. I never mentioned the city. Right, but that still doesn't exclude it from being truth. Right. Very good, your mind is starting to work again. I still can't remember anything. It will come in time.
Jim tried again to stand up. He pushed up with his left arm, the non- scraped one, that's right, almost fell again when it slipped. He flipped himself over using the arm, kneeled, groaned again when the spears struck a second time, finally got into a standing position. He was dizzy, and almost fell over. A few wobbly steps in no particular direction. Wait. He could see stars. All of the streetlights and gaudy neon signs had been turned off. What time was it? He never would know. His watch was off. He scrambled around in the darkness again, cursing those damned red-hot spears as they struck a third time. Realization. The cold fear swept over him, chilling him to the bone then warming him as the cold left. But then it returned in the form of rain.
They took my watch. Now you remember.
Not everything. I didn't expect you to.
Punks. I can see five of them clearly. Ah... five. That's a big improvement. How many were there total?
Seven. No... eight? It had to be eight. Wrong again. Nine.
Huh. Yeah, weird, isn't it?
They took everything I had. Correct. Your money and your watch. Not that that's much...
That explains why my pants pocket was torn out. Interesting anti- pickpocket technique, not carrying a wallet. Too bad they had knives.
Am I cut? See for yourself.
Yeah... three times on my left hand. Ouch.
Yeah. So now you have how you ended up in a street. And why. Good job for a guy who's just been beaten in the head.
Thanks for the complement. You probably lost a hundred thousand brain cells back there.
Yeah, yeah. You have, what, ten left? ^_^
Knock it off.... Alright, alright.
Why Seibu? You tell me.
Jim's glasses were lying not ten feet from him, probably forgotten in the brawl, the moon's reflection in the glass reflecting on his retina. He put them on, glad to see only a small scratch down in the corner of the right lens. They were still spattered with rain, so he wiped it off with his t-shirt. Unfortunately, his shirt was soaked. Damn. The water was now smeared, less concentrated in some places, in long, thick streaks in others. But he could see well. Well, well enough. Better than being blind.
He couldn't read the signs outside, it was still too dark and too rainy. But that was alright. Whenever the outside couldn't entertain him, he turned inward. This loss of memory troubled him, however. He had never been proud of it, but this was particularly bad.
But why Seibu? It didn't have much of a market district, unlike Kichijoji... it was mostly residential. Middle-class. The place where the boring old dirtbags like Sakurai and Uchiyamada lived. Unfortunately, the only people he knew in Tokyo were Azusa and Onizuka, and Azusa lived in Kichijoji, actually fairly close to him. Onizuka? Nobody knew. He disappeared after suplexing Uchiyamada... but when did he do that? That had to have been... yesterday. Right. You're getting better, kid.
Why the hell was I here? Once again, you tell me.
Alright, let's resort to logic. Good choice.
Fact: I'm in Seibu. Ok.
Question: What interested me so much that I would leave Kichijoji for Seibu? Keep going...
Fact: Seibu has a smaller, less diverse shopping district. Uh-huh... keep digging.
Fact: Seibu has a larger residential area. Right, but...
I don't know anybody in Seibu. Right.
Ok, what now? You tell me.
Dammit, I need something to go on... Then you find it. Remember
telling the noobs to screw off and make their own armor on Runescape?
Yeah, yeah. Then keep digging.
It had to be something special. Good.
Somebody special? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYBODY IN SEIBU.
Right. Something special. Good.
A video game? You can find those in Kichijoji.
A rare one. Hah, a rare one for the PS? You can find anyone of them anywhere. The thing's only two years old.
Yeah. You're right. I know I am.
Yeah, yeah. So. Keep going.
Food? Camping gear? Porn? I don't know. You tell me.
I CAN'T REMEMBER. So remember. It'll all be over when you remember.
Yeah, yeah. Damn you. Hey, don't hate me. You're the one who's supposed to remember.
Jim cursed himself. He had been wandering for three-quarters of an hour now, trying to find the subway station, and failing. And turning to logic left him going in circles. He was closer to the answers now, but it still left him kinda dry. Some memory had to awaken, some piece had to turn up from under the seat cushion so he could put it back in the puzzle.
Wait. He didn't know anything about any of the areas in Tokyo except for the Ginza and Kichijoji. Somebody had to have told him about this place, otherwise he never would have gone. The only two people he knew were Azusa, and Onizuka. And Onizuka was unavailable. So why would he be going to buy something for Azusa?
Oh, no. What?
Tell me. Heh. You're not going to get me that easily.
I might have broken The Pact. ...
Yeah. Any smart comeback to that? Fortunately, no.
Fortunately? You might have been thinking I would be making light of
it.
Oh, well. Shit, we couldn't have that, could we? It's THE PACT, dammit. I would never joke about it.
Feh. So, you figured more of it out.
Yeah. And now I'm too angry at myself to keep going with it. ...
What? "It's The Pact, dammit." Feh. Fine. I'll tell.
Cough medicine. It was stupid fucking cough medicine. The really good stuff, from the only true Chinese herbal medicine maker within an hour's time of Azusa's house. She called you, said she was too sick to move, gave you directions to Seibu. You got the stuff, but then the thugs caught you, a "stupid American tourist" on a bad street at a bad time. Good thing you offered to pay with your own money, otherwise, you'd be owing that nice woman some right now.
Shut up.
What? Which is more embarrassing? The fact that you couldn't take on nine punks? Or that you can't take on one girl?
SHUT UP.
Your Pact is breaking. Admit it.
JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Fine. I guess I'll leave you alone now.
It's your Pact too. Don't forget it.
Yeah. But I'm not going to be as affected if it breaks.
I need both of us. You think you can sacrifice me?
Sure. Why not? ~_^
Jim almost screamed out loud. The enemy was too quick to sacrifice, too quick to be the lizard and cut off his own tail. But Jim didn't grow back like a lizard's tail does.
Buzz. A light in the distance. A subway, the way home. The way back to a temporary sanity, away from that voice. Temporary, mind you.