Reach the Shimano Warehouse at 7 A.M. with no delays.
Check all the imported wares for damage during transportation the instant a new truck arrives.
Take it out of the truck.
Assemble it in the warehouse.
List all of the exchanged items into the computer for organization's sake.
Wrap and pack items for delivery.
Control the inventory 'round the clock.
Keep the warehouse clean.
Make sure the robots don't get in your way.
Grit your teeth at Shimano's incessant screaming and follow through with his orders, even if he is a pompous skinflint who micromanages everything.
Rinse and repeat for 7 hours a day, 6 days of the week.
Such was the everyday life of 24-year-old Hiroki Hamaguchi of Naha, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan.
This Wednesday, on a warm autumn afternoon (as if Okinawa was anything other than warm), after leaving work, he headed to buy the best-quality fish he could find, as well as a couple of daikon radishes. To Hiroki, this was more taxing than any of the things he had to endure at the warehouse. Why? He hated daikon, didn't care much for fish and found the resulting combination very bland. Even so, Hiroki wasn't buying all this food he didn't like for himself. Most of it was for his little sister. Since she inherited a heavy kidney disease from their late father, she had to eat a specific assortment of food, seasoned in a certain way, to ease the symptoms of her illness.
As he finally arrived at Makishi Public Market, he made way towards his regular fish vendor. Makishi was a sizable indoor marketplace with all sorts of produce, with stalls placed cramply adjacent to each other, decorated from above with lush, colorful flags and signs for inviting attention from buyers. Vendors were doing their best to attract the customers' attention, either with the volume of their voices or the quality of their products, but usually, the latter would prevail. Bad wares had a short shelf life, literally and figuratively.
Hiroki's favorite fish vendor was quite prosperous, with a fairly large, enclosed shop with tiled blue walls and a couple of aquariums for housing live catch. Her husband was a fisherman as well as a supplier, so Hiroki knew he could always find fresh, high-quality fish at an affordable price here. He announced himself meekly as he peeped through the door, "Afternoon, miss Tezuka."
"Ah, if it isn't little Hiro? Come on in," Mrs Tezuka, a portly old woman, greeted, with a hospitality that was just as girthy as her waist, "What's getting you down, boy? You're too cute to have such a tired face."
"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Tezuka. Just a tough day at work," Hiroki forced a smile. At 5' 8'', with a lean figure, fuzzy hair and a boyish face, he didn't exactly see himself as handsome, "Do you have any good bass today?"
"You're in luck! These came in today. Pretty nice and lean, if you ask me," the vendor said, pulling out four basses. Their glistening scales would've looked pretty to Hiroki had he not needed to recall their taste when combined with daikon.
"Can I have two?" Hiroki asked.
"Sure thing, darling," Mrs. Tezuka assured, "Let me clean them and wrap them up real quick, and I'll meet you at the counter."
"Thank you very much," Hiroki bowed.
"Are these for your sister again? How's she doing?" Mrs. Tezuka asked with a louder tonality, since the noise from the sink was dulling out her hearing as she was washing the fish in a sink.
"Oh, she's all right. It's not easy, but she's gonna get better after a while. Thank you for asking, and thank you for the great fish," Hiroki did his best to smile.
"As long as you have faith and keep working hard, you can do pretty much anything you set your mind on," Mrs. Tezuka punctuated, handing the fish over to her young customer. "That'll be 2000 yen."
Hiroki wasted no time pulling out his wallet to pay up, and bowed his head one more time before heading off, "Thank you very much."
"Thank you for showing up," the vendor replied. "You can come back anytime. There's gonna be some salmon and squid around next week!"
Even though the prospect of having salmon for lunch someday definitely made his mouth water, today wasn't the time for it. He reckoned it'd be amazing if he made some salmon to celebrate his sister's recovery and to see her smile again. Alas, wishful thinking could only get him so far. If his mother had thought of anything other than her own interests when she abandoned them, they would have likely been better off. Still, there was no turning back time, and no way to make right what was once wrong. The only thing that mattered was finding the daikon. And it was an easy affair, because they sell very well.
Heading for his apartment, located in the city center, Hiroki could feast his eyes on everything that's been built up around him. New hospitals, bullet train rails, elevators on every bridge, services for the socially endangered and… a poster for a Beast Wrestler championship.
He used to watch the matches when he was a boy, because seeing genetically engineered monsters – the Beasts in question – going at each other with everything they had until one of them tapped out was incredibly exhilarating. However, as he grew older, interests changed. Even so, the Beast Wrestler sport maintained a consistent level of popularity. Hiroki found it amusing how mankind, in spite of its numerous advancements in science, technology, medicine and lifestyle, many of them for the better, still relished the opportunity to watch others engage in clinches of bloody violence. With the excuse that the ones fighting aren't human, it became even more acceptable. He wondered if those poor creatures ever suffered from the predicaments they were placed in, if they had genuine thoughts of their own, or if everything that makes a person unique was simply programmed out of their genome.
But just as his thoughts trailed off, he realized he'd reached the most dangerous part of his return home – a neighborhood not known much for good things. There were many reports of knife incidents going on in this place, and Hiroki could notice the occasional drug deal by looking at the people's faces. To make matters worse, the roads of these dastardly streets were closed for maintenance, which meant pedestrians were forced to use the alleys as a shortcut. The alleys were usually where all the dirty work was going on. Not too active during the day, but Hiroki could never afford to be too careful.
Even with all the precautions he took and all the side glances, he was taken by surprise. Something oval and heavy clattered down from the stairway of an adjacent building and fell right onto his head, forcing him to cringe, cry out and grab his new stinging lump. Alas, his grocery bag ended up on the concrete, but thanks to being plastic-wrapped, it wasn't spoiled.
"What in the…" Hiroki leaned over to see the culprit. It looked like an egg. It was slightly larger than a chicken's egg in volume, but it had a hard, black surface and some glass windows, through which he could see a green, fizzy liquid and the distinct silhouette of a wingless dragon curled into what seemed to be a fetal position.
While it certainly looked the part of a lost children's toy, there was a heft and sturdiness to the egg's construction that made Hiroki think otherwise. Had it not hit so many surfaces on the way down, it would've knocked him out for sure. He felt that only an expensive item could have this kind of weight, so he ruminated on the possibility of selling it. For all he knew, it could be worth a couple of million yen if it was a rare collectible. If it meant that Shizue would continue life with healthy kidneys, he'd be all for it. He made a note in the back of his mind that he'd do some research on the object as soon as he got home. This could either be a homerun, or another wasted opportunity.
It dawned on him that he was still in the wrong neighborhood to stick around for too long, so he stashed the egg into his bag and made his way out as quickly and nonchalantly as possible.
When Hiroki finally unlocked his apartment, which was nestled comfortably in the city center, he saw that his little sister was already lying on the living room couch, watching television. He'd arranged for her to lie there instead of her regular bed, because he didn't want her to watch movies on her cellphone's puny screen.
"Hiroki! You're back," Shizue smiled, clearly overjoyed that she wasn't alone anymore.
"Hey, Shizue," Hiroki waved back, with a more genuine grin, "I got your lunch, and your medicine. Don't forget to take them."
Seeing Shizue the way she was now was heartbreaking. She was getting thin and weak, and there wasn't a single day where there weren't bags under her eyes from the fatigue the disease was putting on her. Even moving away from the couch became a chore, because her ankles were getting sore and swollen. Since her father was going through the same things, she seemed to be acutely aware of them herself. But in spite of all those things, she was still being cheerful and sociable.
"Do you know that comic called JoJo's Bizarre Adventure that we used to read?" Shizue inquired, leaning over the couch to catch her brother's attention while he was preparing lunch.
"Yeah, what about it?" Hiroki half-turned his head over to hear her better.
"Well, there's a whole animated show about it, and I haven't known about it for 10 years! I was thinking about watching it on Netflix today, but I figured I'd wait for you instead," Shizue said, barely containing her laughter at their campy childhood favorites.
"Haven't you and I both grown up a tad too much to watch cartoons?" Hiroki inquired whimsically.
"Yeah, and you're a little too young to be a mommy!" Shizue giggled, prompting her big brother to laugh as well. Preparing lunch took a lot of salad, a fair amount of patience and, sadly, cutting back on salt and spices, because those were no good for Shizue as she was right now. As soon as lunch was done, they fired up their streaming service and revisited the memories of their favorite manga while wolfing down their food. Hiroki, anyway, because he wanted to get the blandness out of the way as soon as possible. However, he noticed that his little sister was being really apprehensive.
"Hey, don't skimp on your food, now," Hiroki gently warned.
"I'm not, it's just that I don't feel like eating anymore, though I haven't eaten much at all. This sucks," Shizue pouted, before continuing, even if she felt otherwise. The doctor listed lack of appetite as one of the symptoms, after all.
"Don't worry, now," Hiroki placed his right hand on her shoulder, mustering the courage to return Shizue's smiles. "When you get better, you're probably gonna get fat from your appetite. Besides, here it comes!"
The two immediately turned to the TV, only to hear their famous favorite lines from the show.
It was not with JoJo, but with me! Dio!
Both burst into laughter at the campy delivery that's conquered the internet and beyond, and forget all about the illness and troubles as long as the first 9 episodes last. Then the tiredness got to Shizue, and she had to rest up a little bit.
"Hey, you know what else was funny back when we were kids?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Hiroki nudged his eyebrows up quizzically.
"Those monster fights you used to watch!" Shizue giggled, "I remember when I used to hide your action figures when you weren't studying well enough."
"Oh, those silly old things," Hiroki chuckled, grasping at his forehead with his left hand. "I actually saw an ad for that when I was walking through town, and all. Can't believe I was into all that stuff."
"Well, there's this one kid from my class who likes them, too," Shizue added, "He's always so shy around me, but he's really sweet."
"Have you been keeping up for homework and studying?" Hiroki inquired, remembering that her illness meant that she couldn't physically be at school until she got better.
"Oh, yeah," Shizue nodded with confidence, "I keep in touch with Aoi and Rin for that every day. I'm not gonna miss out! When I come back, I'm gonna be better than ever. Right?"
Hiroki bit his lip a little bit, but still managed to not disappoint his sister, "Hey, of course you will. We're gonna show this sickness who's boss. I'm gonna save you. Now, rest up for a while."
"Okay," Shizue smiled warmly once again before wrapping herself into the blankets. "Good… evening, I guess?" she chuckled at her own awkward phrasing, which was returned by her big brother as he closed the door to his bedroom/study.
When I come back, I'm gonna be better than ever!
Shizue says that, but her condition is only getting worse with every passing day. She wasn't waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom as often as she was these few days. She wasn't losing her appetite or sleep very much at all a week ago. And on top of that, the swellings on her ankles, her paling complexion and those gloomy eyebags. And what do doctors have to say about all that? Remedies, remedies, remedies. What does it do other than prolong the torture? At this rate, it looked like it'd be better off to just give up.
But how could he? How could he just abandon all that was left of his family? The only person, in his view, that loved him and trusted in him?
Nevertheless, what hurt more than anything else was just how smiley and positive she was today. All she was ever doing was trying to make Hiroki feel better. It's as if she knew that he wasn't doing much to help her, but didn't want him to eat himself too much about it. But it grated. It made him want to scream to the world, waving for some sort of help. All he could do was cry in silence, cursing his lack of fortune and resourcefulness, wishing his father was still around, and blaming his mother for her treason.
But then, he remembered the egg.
With a hasty motion, he took it out of his bag, where he'd placed it upon first finding it. Taking a good gaze at it, he turned on his laptop and started looking up as much information on it as he could muster. But it was scant. Not even an image result could show much about it. There was no label on the egg itself, nothing to indicate its place of origin. It was all incredibly strange, and all the more unnerving. Still, he thought of one person who might steer him in the right direction.
It was an antique dealer who was good friends with his father, as they often traded old hanafuda cards and old katanas. He was also a great fan of vintage video games and comic book memorabilia, so he likely knew what fell on Hiroki's head today.
To that end, Hiroki left the house with a note on the living room table explaining that he won't be long, taking nothing with him other than the egg and a small umbrella, because the sky wasn't exactly smiling upon him tonight. Since the dreary criminal alleys were waiting for him, he decided to avoid them entirely while he was making his way to the shop. The more garish and well-lit places were, the more it gave him peace of mind, even though he wasn't a person you could call very sociable.
Even though he lived in the southernmost and warmest part of Japan, nights got a little more brisk than usual, so he wore a tracksuit. The clouds that were billowing overhead didn't look very encouraging, but if selling that egg meant that he'd be able to save his sister, he wasn't going to let this chance go. In his rush and focus, Hiroki didn't take glances to the side as often as he usually did. And that, sadly, is what led to him having unsolicited company of the worst kind.
"Hey, buddy, I gotta ask you somethin'!" A man shouted after him.
Having not turned around to take a better look at his face, Hiroki pressed on, "Excuse me, but I have to keep going." But as he said this, he was throttled from behind, and his other arm held a pocket knife conveniently aimed towards the underside of one of Hiroki's legs. He was wearing a dark, thin jacket with a pair of gloves on his hands.
"That wasn't a request, buddy," the thug hissed back, with a firm grip all around. While tapping Hiroki's leg with his knife so as to make a statement, he chose to break the silence, "All I want is to ask a couple of questions. After that, you can go on, with your leg arteries intact. Forget this ever happened. Wouldn't that be better for the both of us?"
Even though he was initially breathing very rapidly, Hiroki steadied himself just enough to nod. He didn't see it fit to cause trouble to himself and others in the middle of the street, and it seemed that the thug agreed with him. He loosened his grip around the neck, but kept his left arm firmly placed over Hiroki's shoulders to prevent escape. Naturally, he withdrew the knife, "That's better. Come with me to meet my buddies, and don't get any ideas."
The thug was leading Hiroki towards a darkened alley, maintaining a firm grip on his upper body. Even now, Hiroki could not see the man's face, since it was concealed by a black ski mask. As if his style of negotiation wasn't already crass enough, his choice of wardrobe wasn't reassuring in the least. He was notably taller and stronger than Hiroki, which meant that brute-forcing his way out of the thug's grip was impossible. Soon enough, they arrived before a group of ten or twelve people dressed in the same way, of varying height and constitution, assembled in a semicircle next to a garbage container. The fact that it was obviously starting to rain didn't help matters.
"So, you're the little shit that took my score, huh?" One unsavory character saw it fit to break the silence and approach Hiroki. And by approach, he meant getting right up in his intended victim's face, "It's a good thing we found your candy ass, otherwise you would've cost us a fuckin' fortune, you little thief!"
"Cut the bullshit, Yucchan," another thug brushed off his teammate's tirade. "This whole mess started because you let it slip out the window! Stop blaming the kid for your own crap, dumbass!"
"What did you just say to me?" Yucchan turned towards his critical colleague.
"I said you're a dumbass and an idiot who doesn't use his head! You got a problem with that?" the critic retorted.
"Knock it off!" Hiroki's initial captor shouted out, "There ain't no need to do anything to our buddy…" He nudged Hiroki as if he was asking for an introduction, but Hiroki only shook his head. "Won't introduce yourself? Too bad. No biggie. Look, did you see an egg today?"
"Sadly, I don't work at a poultry farm," Hiroki replied, unamused by his audience. Even though the man holding him at knife point was presenting himself as a more pleasant figure, it felt only skin-deep. But a squeeze at his neck reminded him that he was still in danger.
"Don't play silly with me," the lead thug said, "I'm not talking about no chicken eggs. A big, black egg with green holes. Glowing. Looks like a toy. Ya see anything like that when you were passing through?"
"I…" Hiroki stuttered, now feeling more genuinely threatened. Nevertheless, he resisted the urge to say anything, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"That so?" the lead thug said, clearly becoming more and more hostile, judging merely by the tone of his voice – that polite tone he had with him just a while ago was nothing but an act. He led Hiroki right into the middle of the crowd and pressed the knife to his throat, "Turn out your pockets."
Hiroki, in an uncomfortable position to begin with, complied. He slowly guided his hands towards the pockets of his tracksuit, turning them out completely, showing that he had nothing. To further try and prove that he was telling the truth (which he wasn't), he took everything out of the pockets on his pants as well, before returning it all swiftly. No egg there either. Still, his captors looked wary.
"Now, your bag," the lead thug commanded, motioning to it with his pocket knife.
This time, Hiroki felt an unusual urge for defiance. He couldn't explain it himself, but something awoke in him that's had enough of being treated like this. He's gone through the trouble of finding something that may cure his sister, and now he was supposed to simply capitulate to a group of armed ruffians who wanted to use it for nothing other than their own selfish ambitions? That he should just let this opportunity go after toiling tirelessly with a pompous skinflint of a boss for so many years, all on his own? Unacceptable. As if by magic, Hiroki's face turned from apprehension and stilted fear to unusual determination. His brows furrowed, his shuddering stopped and his gaze pierced the lead thug's eyes like a syringe, "I won't let you."
The thug's hostility naturally only increased, and his body started to tense up, clutching the knife harder, "What did you say?"
"It's something for my sister, so I can't let you see it. She's really sick, and if you have a problem with that, then stab me!" Hiroki continued his defiant stance, even if he was outnumbered and outmatched. When the lead thug tried to open the bag by force, it fell out of it in the ensuing struggle. As it clattered down, Hiroki gritted his teeth in frustration and fear, with the pouring rain hiding his sweat.
This realization prompted a smug chuckle from Hiroki's captor, and the others laughed as well, "Your sister? I gotta say she has great taste if she's into Beast Wrestler Eggs. But you went and pissed me off when I was just being nice to your sorry little ass… You're gonna have to get home before your leg bleeds out! It'll be a nice little workout!"
With these words, he punched Hiroki in the gut and ordered his colleagues to restrain him, while he prepared his knife and moved forward to make the cut. They grabbed him from underneath both arms and intertwined their legs with his own, so he wouldn't kick or struggle. Would this one act of courage really be the end for Hiroki? Would it end up accomplishing absolutely nothing for Shizue? All he could do now was shut his eyes and wait for everything to pass. The rain will have washed off both his life and his stupidity… except it wasn't going to.
While the knife did indeed thrust into something, it was not its intended target.
It was thrust into a large, scaly hand. A hand with four fingers, each ending with an enormous, sharp claw. The hand belonged to something nasty, hungry, and much larger and stronger than anyone around it.
Hiroki opened his eyes so he could make sense of what just happened. Instead of seeing his would-be murderer, he saw this giant figure looming over him. This creature was at least eight feet high, and it had a very long tail laced with powerful muscles that broadened it at the sides. Only when a bolt of lightning illuminated the dreary alley could Hiroki see that this creature possessed long, antelope-like horns on the top of its head, as well as scaly armor running down its back and tail in neatly arranged scutes. He could also hear a deep, guttural snarl emanating from its vocal cords. It did not sound pleased.
The creature clutched the knife thug's hand through its own wound and made a swift jerking motion to the side. This cracked the thug's hand at the wrist, sending him into an agonized scream, while the creature discarded the knife and swiped at his first opponent with his left hand, sending him flying quite a distance. The other crooks immediately latched onto their guns to bring the creature down, but it had little to no effect because of its armored scutes holding damage back, and even so, the caliber wasn't enough to wound it. They were indiscriminately floored by the creature's claw swipes, slammed to the ground from a height far beyond safe landing with tremendous force or swatted away by its powerful tail. Because of the darkness, Hiroki couldn't see a thing going on, but judging by everything he could hear, he knew that the crooks would have been better off if the police found them first. And it was better that he didn't see anything, because it couldn't have been anything other than bloody.
With everyone around it down on the ground squirming, the creature turned towards Hiroki and the two goons holding him and let out a shrieking, blood-curdling roar that made them make a beeline for the quickest retreat, dropping their former victim and leaving him to the creature's mercy.
Hiroki, now completely wet from the rain, was lying on the ground defenseless. At the very least, he wanted to catch a glimpse of this creature before it decided he was its prey. Quickly latching onto his smartphone, he turned the light on, and much to his horror, saw the face of a dragon. Its skin seemed to be an olive green. Overall, the head was rather small in relation to the rest of the body. The two long horns were followed by progressively shorter hornlets going down from the top of the head to the cheekbones. In the center of this crown of horns were two glaring red eyes, although with round pupils. Even though its skin was scaly and reptilian, it still had very loose, mammalian lips and a set of teeth that could only be likened to a wolf or tiger – incisors, canines, carnassials. The snout was relatively short and narrow, and the lower jaw had a slight underbite, with some small spikes jutting out from the chin. The head was supported by a fairly long, but thick and strong neck. Did this dragon come out of the egg? Was it really a Beast Wrestler, as the criminals were saying? Why was it not attacking him?
To further Hiroki's consternation, the dragon gently lifted him up and positioned him back onto his feet without any sign of aggression and stared at him as if it was waiting for a command.
Hiroki was still trying to catch his breath and relax his body, as the dragon stood before him still and firm. After a few seconds, Hiroki mustered the air to ask one simple question, "Just what are you?"
Suddenly, the dragon raised his hand to his chest and, out of nowhere, spoke, "I am yours…" with a deep, resonant voice that had the kind of snarl you'd expect from a creature like this. He motioned that hand from his chest to Hiroki's shoulders, "...and you are mine. I'm ready for battle."
"Battle?" A confused Hiroki's only words were cut off by the sirens of an impending police squadron racing to the scene. Apparently, somebody was quick to notice the kerfuffle and was quick to call them. Just as the dragon was about to attack again, Hiroki collected his thoughts and bayed at him, "No, no, no, no! Don't attack the police!"
"They sound like trouble!" the dragon growled back.
"No! They're here to help us both! So stay put and don't say a word…" Hiroki said through clenched teeth, and opened his umbrella, even though there was no point to such an action now that he was soaked to his skin.
Without a single second wasted, the police wheeled over to the alley, disembarked and raised their weapons, "Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" One group of officers quickly apprehended the thugs, while four others, heavily armored and heavily armed, made way to Hiroki and his newly made dragon friend. Even though he was snarling, Hiroki was motioning at him to calm down. The police then declared their intentions, "You can recall him, can't you?"
"Beg your pardon?" Hiroki asked.
"A Beast can be recalled into egg state for ease of transportation. Besides, it's against the law to have them walking around the city in the open, so you'd better cooperate, sir," the officer asserted.
Hiroki, completely out of the loop for owning a Beast Wrestler, but willing to comply with the law, looked at the dragon and shrugged, "Well, you heard them. Become an egg again."
"What?!" the dragon snapped like an offended child, "I'm not going back in there! I'm gonna get a hernia…"
"I said, go back! If you've managed this long, you can manage a little more. Now, come on," Hiroki maintained a disciplining glare focused on the dragon, who, albeit with an exasperated groan, receded to an egg form that looked exactly the way Hiroki first found him. That done, he handed the dragon egg to the police and allowed them to take him into custody. He was seated in the back of one of the police cars heading straight to the police station. Since he was at the scene, he had to be interrogated, if only as a victim or eyewitness, and he was well aware of it. His clothes were almost completely wet, and it was a miracle how the contents of his bag stayed dry. He was just hoping that he wouldn't be catching some kind of malady for getting drenched in the autumn rain.
He was still trying to make sense of everything that's been going on, and how it will impact him in the future. The quiet ride to the police station might help him set his mind in order. With the cat out of the bag – or rather, dragon out of the egg – how was he going to go about selling him? How much would he be worth now that he's manifested himself? Does a "used" egg carry the same value as a brand-new one?
It didn't matter for the time being. Right now, all that Hiroki felt was an immense gratitude that he was still alive, and that he still had a chance to save Shizue. What could possibly matter more than that?
After a long time, I've finally pushed out a new fanfic.
It's based on a rather obscure Sega Genesis title produced in the early '90s, which had some great character designs, but dreadful gameplay and execution. You can look it up for yourself, since the fanfic's title is the same as that of the game.
In any case, I hope you enjoy this experiment! Catch ya later on, down the trail!