4/11 Morning
I try my best to stifle a yawn while standing at attention next to Kawakami. For whatever reason, I had trouble getting to sleep last night. My mind does its best to convince me that it's due to all of the responsibilities as Student Council President piling up; clubs needing their budgets adjusted, the undone prep for the upcoming volleyball rally. That wasn't anything new for me though, and it certainly wasn't anything I couldn't deal with. I think back to yesterday, Sae's annoyed look as she handed me the phone that afternoon flashing in front of me, as well as the conversation that followed.
'Meet with the new student. Help him to adjust. Like I was just meeting some regular old student.' It's not that I was against introducing a new person to the school, especially if they were starting a little late. It's just who said person was that was cause for concern on my end. 'Kurokuya Kouzai.' The oddly familiar name rings out in my head, and a part of me can't help but feel just a bit of childish giddiness at how close it sounded to one of the names in my favorite yakuza film. That stray thought soon devolved into a mental tangent on what kind of delinquent Kurokuya actually was.
Is he dangerous? He assaulted someone, so it was a safe assumption. Even so, did that mean he was generally violent? Unstable? The image of a boy, tall and all muscle with ripped off sleeves, tattoos cascading down his tanned, exposed arms with a murderous glare in his eyes imprints itself in my mind's eye, and despite my more rational side telling me how silly it was, I couldn't help but think that it would fit. My imagination continues to run wild, and soon the images distort into one of a hunched over wallflower, Kurokuya's sleeves edging past his hands to hide drag marks, and then again into him standing in the courtyard, a pile of students on the grass with one still being held by the collar in his hands, with me rushing in to-
'Focus up Makoto.' Giving my head a slight shake and taking a deep breath, I force all of those childish ideas out, slapping myself lightly on the cheeks as I do so.
"Nervous?" Kawakami-sensei's slight chuckle acts as a welcome distraction, and I look to her, blushing slightly at my little display.
"Not at all sensei. Just a bit tired. I know it's a bad excuse, but I had some trouble getting to sleep last night." Which, I note, was exactly because I was more nervous than I wanted to admit.
"Oh, believe me. It's an excuse." She snorts out, probably to herself more than anything given how she was looking to the side. Even with just a quick glance, I can easily spot the beginnings of bags forming under her eyes. She straightens herself out and hurriedly adds, "Don't worry about him. He seemed harmless enough when we met."
The reassurance manages to calm me down enough to say, "What was he like, if you don't mind me asking?" At this, Kawakami makes a quizzical look, scratching the back of her head.
"He didn't say much, so I don't really know how to describe him." She looked off to the side, her face scrunching in thought. "He should be here soon, so you'll get an idea of what I mean." The non-answer doesn't do much to dissuade my worries, but it is enough to stop any more idle daydreaming on my part.
"I look forward to meeting him." Putting aside any fantasies and other delusions, I straighten up and fully prepare myself for the task at hand. Indulging in stuff like that was unbecoming of me, and I feel slightly embarrassed at doing so. All I was asked to do was just show someone else what the school was like and that's it. After it was finished, I could focus on more important things, like preparing for what college I would be going to. Nothing to get excited over.
The door to the faculty office is pulled open, causing both of us to turn towards it, and then I see him. Kurokuya Kouzai. I was thankful that he didn't match up to any of the images my sleep deprived brain conjured up, and it helped to further divorce any preconceived notions I had.
"Kouzai-kun. You actually showed up." Kawakami spoke up, sounding oddly disappointed. Kouzai looks to her, a slightly confused furrow showing on his dark eyes hidden behind his wet, shoulder length brown hair.
"Why wouldn't I show up?" His voice is shockingly soft, yet no less clear as he brings a hand up to move his hair out of the way, water dribbling down his face, giving it a slight glimmer from the lights of the office. I get a better look at him, his soaked locks framing his slim, yet sharply defined features. His eyes settle on me for a moment, and whatever thought processes I have crash and burn in a smoldering heap.
'This is it?' I was suddenly very aware of my heartbeat, and a warm feeling settled on top of my ears as I watched him walk up to the teacher's desk. His barely fitting, wet uniform moves in a way that emphasizes his form as he does so, accenting every curve of his deceptively well-toned body.
"Why are you so wet?" Kawakami's annoyed question acts like a shot to the foot, causing me to jolt back to reality from... whatever that tangent was.
"It was raining. I didn't have an umbrella." He stated, no emotion in his answer as he stopped in front of the desk, and again our eyes meet. It was at that point I noticed how tall he was, actually having to slightly crane my neck back to properly meet his gaze. His black eyes bored into me, and for some reason a twinge of nostalgia blasts through my spine at the strangely familiar sight.
"You couldn't find somewhere to wait it out?"
"I like the rain." The blunt simpleness of the reply left Kawakami flatfooted, and she brought a hand up to pinch her nose as she took a sharp inhalation of breath.
'This is Kurokuya Kouzai?' My brain tries its best to fire off anything that could describe him, but all that came back were shorted out sparks of malfunctioning equipment. 'He doesn't look like a delinquent at all. He looks...' His black eyes refocus on me, and suddenly I'm not at Shujin.
I'm alone in a white hallway. Cheap electric lights that always manage to give me a headache illuminate the depressing colors that cover walls populated with informational anatomy posters or misplaced pictures of beautiful landscapes. My hands are on my ears, trying their best to block out a stream of unpleasant words and sounds that I now only associated with bad memories. Tears do their best to edge their way out of my shut eyes, accented by my choked whimpers.
A hand rests itself on my head, giving me comforting pats. It's too small to be my father's or sister's, and the sudden contact makes me slightly twitch in surprise. I look up, and see the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen looking at me, a reassuring smile on their occupant's face.
I'm back in Shujin, and the upsetting mental imagery makes me stand completely still. Kurokuya's empty black eyes look down on me, not one emotion showing on his visage.
'... Familiar.'
"Anyway," Kawakami's voice snaps me back to the present, "this is Makoto Niijima, the Student Council President." He beats me to a reply, bowing slightly as he spoke.
"Nice to meet you." Again, with no emotion. I regain enough of myself to reply.
"It's very nice to meet you as well, Kouzai-kun." There are no breaks in my voice as I bow in return, despite the fact it felt like it was taking concentrated effort on my part to not show how off balance I now was from the intrusive memories.
"Now then," Kawakami continues, clapping her hands together in a single motion, "I've asked Niijima here to help tutor you-"
Say what now? I practically shoot up from my bowed position, looking at the teacher in shock. "What?"
She looks to me, brows furrowed. My throat locks, that outburst surprising me. It wasn't like me to act so unprofessional. "I asked you to help him out with adjusting to school. Tutoring him would help raise his grades and go a long way to help with that, and considering your own academic record I figured you'd be the best person for the job."
'Then why didn't you mention it until now?' I manage to keep a grimace from showing on my face at the fact I had yet another thing to do on top of all of the other work I had. Taking a quick breath to calm myself down, I turn to face my new responsibility. His seemingly standard non-expression was still present. 'Relax Makoto. It's nothing you can't handle. You're just annoyed because you're tired.' The previous hospital imagery flashes in my eyes for a brief moment. 'That's it. That's all it is.' "I'm sorry for my outburst Kouzai-kun. Please accept my apology."
He doesn't reply, and his passive face honestly starts to get on my nerves a bit. It made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. The idea of kicking him in the shin to elicit a reaction flashes through my mind, but I ignore the stray thought. Eventually he turned away and addressed his homeroom teacher.
"Is this arrangement really necessary?" My heart feels like it dive bombs into my stomach at the words, and a small choking sound comes out of my throat. Kawakami is less than impressed on her end.
"Niijima-san agreed to take the time out of her own studies to help you Kouzai-kun. Can't you at least seem somewhat appreciative?" The words sound harsher than they I thought they should be, and I wonder if the reason Kouzai disagreed was because I had upset him with the way I reacted earlier. It would be perfectly understandable if that was the case.
"That's what I mean." Huh? "As Student Council President, she is likely busy with more important tasks. I wouldn't want for her to waste her time on me."
…. What?
I stood there, not comprehending what he had just said. How casually he said it. Like it was fact. Kawakami doesn't share my reaction, letting out a sigh it seemed like she had been holding in for a while.
"While that's very considerate of you, the fact remains that I asked her to help you out and she agreed to do so." She levels a hard look at him, but before she has a chance to continue, the morning bell rings. Kouzai brings a hand to his ear, letting out a slight wince. I only barely notice the pained look to his eyes. "We'll have to talk about this later." Kawakami stands from her desk, her annoyance clear.
"Uh," I stammer out, dignified, bringing both of their attention onto me. "If it's any help, the two of us can discuss it in the library after school on our own." I rush the words without really considering them, feeling a desperate need to try and salvage this failed meeting. The two of them look to me, seeming to consider it. Kawakami looks to Kouzai, raising her eyebrow.
"Would that be acceptable for you, Kouzai-kun?" Her voice is laden with exasperation, clearly wanting this conversation to end. Kouzai looks to me, and this time I can't help but wilt. I don't know how, but his eyes gave the effect that they weren't really looking at me but straight through me. Like they were judging every aspect of who I was. His passive expression only made it look like whatever he saw, he wasn't impressed.
"... Yes." Kouzai concedes, turning away and walking to the door. Kawakami quickly catches up to get ahead of him, and I can hear her mutter under her breath.
"Why did I have to get saddled with this?"
My back tightened at seeing a teacher show clear contempt at having to help a student. I started to follow after them, and the trek to Kouzai's homeroom is made in silence. The few students still in the hallways hurry to their classrooms.
"-it's him." A lone comment, quiet to make seem like it was whispering but still loud enough to hear, catches my ear.
"The guy who assaulted someone?" My head turns towards the pair of gossiping students so quickly that I hear a small pop in my neck. They notice me and quickly rush down the hall.
'How do they know that?' Kouzai's record was supposed to be confidential. The only reason I knew was because Kawakami told me before I agreed to help him so I would be fully informed. As the three of us continue towards the second year's floor, it becomes evident that Kouzai's record is the new topic of conversation amongst the student body.
"Don't get too close to him, he'll stab you!"
"Man, he's tall! You think he's on steroids?"
"Probably, I heard he beat up some guys who tried to take his stash."
A part of me found it ridiculous how quickly the rumors jumped from assault to drug dealing, but then I remember my own earlier fantasies and a wave of shame settles in my mind. I look down at the ground as we continue to walk through the halls, doing my best to ignore the baseless comments and barbs. Their minds had already been made up without even knowing Kouzai. My mind had already been made up. As we reach his homeroom, I can only guess how this breach of privacy is making him feel. We stop at the door, and I look up to see...
Nothing. His face hadn't changed one iota. His black eyes reflected no anger, sadness, betrayal. He was empty.
"Thank you for help, Niijima-san." I look at Kawakami. Even she looked distressed by the rumor mill we had walked through, and her voice had a tremble in it. "You should be getting to class." I only nod at the dismissal and look back to Kouzai. I immediately bow in order to avoid his eyes.
"Good luck, Kouzai-kun." Despite forcing myself to sound at least a little casual, the words ring hollow in my ears.
"Have a nice day." His reply is in that same distant tone, soft yet clear. I turn away, not being able to look back at him.
As I walk back to my own class, the various speculations and theories of Kouzai follow me, acting like a sick chorus reminding me of my own selfish judgements towards him. My heart feels as though it's fumbling around, trying to find some answer that can make sense of the situation. So, I do what I trained myself to be the best at for the past three years, and set my mind to provide one.
Kurokuya Kouzai was convicted of assault and put on probation, being sent to Shujin Academy under said probation. The information regarding his record was supposed to be confidential under Japanese law, with newspapers and any other form of news media being forbidden to show anything regarding the trial, offence, age, or any other personal matters about the accused to the public eye. The only personnel who were allowed to be aware of it are any legal guardians or decided upon individuals that would be responsible for him. As such, the fact that the student body was aware of his record seemingly before he was even present on campus implied some form of incompetence or outright negligence on the part of the staff.
However, that would then imply that whatever way Kouzai-kun's information was leaked was in part due to the actions or inaction of a member of the staff, which sent alarm bells ringing off in my head. There was only so many ways something like that was possible, and none of them painted a kind picture of Shujin's teachers.
I stop where I am in the hall, my eyes narrowing. One part of me wanted to dismiss that circumstantial claim, not believing that an adult would purposefully want to bring harm or embarrassment to one of their own students, people they were supposed to be responsible for. Kawakami's evident frustration with the situation, while worrying, didn't make me believe that she would do that. Then again, concerning some of the rumors about the staff I've heard on my end...
My mind eventually peters to a halt, the day's earlier tiredness and lethargy coming back to the forefront. A heavy sigh escapes my lips, my shoulders slumping in resignation. 'How did something like this happen? More importantly...' A feeling that I can't recognize begins to settle over me, crushing every part of my body in a sense of listlessness and defeat. 'What can I do to help?' Kurokuya Kouzai's blank eyes flash before mine, and at that moment I felt so... so...
"Can you believe that the school accepted someone with a record?" I look to the side, the action feeling like it was weighed down by iron bars. A fellow third year girl is talking with her friend, not noticing me.
"I know, right? My parents are pissed." I can feel my hands ball up, nails pressing into my palms.
"They should just throw him out. Someone like that doesn't belong here." Whatever was weighing me down before is thrown off me, and I feel my chest swell with a burning passion I haven't felt in a long time.
"Excuse me." My voice is firm, commanding. The two girls look to me in surprise, and I strut over to them, my persona as the responsible Student Council President easily sliding into place. I stop in front of them, their expressions faulting at my hard glare. "Class is in session. I suggest you get to your homeroom instead of indulging in childish rumors." It isn't a request, a firm reminder, or a kind suggestion. It's an order.
"Y-yes miss president!" They turn and run down the hall, quickly ducking into one of the rooms. I feel a smirk settle on my face, before shifting back into my usual calm mask. I continue towards my own room, my steps confident and resolute.
'Kurokuya Kouzai.' The name rings out in my mind, and the strange feeling of familiarity only helps to steel my decision. 'I'll do my very best to help you. It's the least I can do to make up for believing the worst in you.'
As I entered my own class, I didn't notice the feeling of my mouth curving up into a smile. One that I knew on some level I hadn't shown in a long time.
4/11 Morning
As I watch Niijima walk away, I can't help but feel a sense of guilt. I could tell how tense she was during the entire meeting, and given the current topic of conversation among the student body concerning my criminal status, it isn't hard to figure out why. Having to be responsible to a supposed assaulter was too much for most adults to deal with, let alone a teenage girl. The comments from the other students would have been no help in calming any worries she would have had.
I'd apologize for making her uncomfortable after school, and explain to her that I couldn't accept the offer of her tutelage to assuage her concern. Seeing as how she wasn't aware of that part in her arrangement, it likely wouldn't be difficult. Besides, considering what I needed to do every night, having an engagement at school would be detrimental to say the least.
"Listen," Kawakami speaks up, and I turn to look at her, "when you introduce yourself, just keep it simple, alright? Don't say anything unnecessary."
"…. What should I say?" I didn't understand what she meant by unnecessary. It was just an introduction, what else was there to say? She gives me an odd look, and lets out a strained sigh as she turns to open the door.
"Let's just get this over with." She walks into class, with me quickly joining her. The moment I was visible to the rest of the room, the whispers and conversations go dead, and the whiplash from loud to quiet sets me on edge.
"Settle down." Kawakami goes to her podium at the front of the room, and I grab a piece of chalk, writing my name out on the board in large kanji. 黒夜 光在. "This is Kurokuya Kouzai. He's going to be transferring in from today onward." She looks to me. "Go ahead and introduce yourself."
I look at the room, the rigid and expectant faces of my peers boring into me. My attention is immediately grabbed by a spot of blond hair at the back of the room near the windows, and I see the bored face of Takamaki looking out them. She turns her eyes for a moment to look at me, and her eyes narrow in what I can only guess is annoyance before she looks back outside.
"I'm Kurokuya Kouzai." My earlier warning comes to the forefront of my mind, and I quickly search for what would be an appropriate thing to continue with. I settle for a bow and, "It's nice to meet all of you." I rise up, looking to Kawakami for some form of confirmation. She doesn't look back.
"It's him, the one on the school forum."
"Why's he so wet?"
"You think he's got a knife on him?"
"Jeez, he's ripped! Think he's got a bunch of scars?" A darkly ironic thought comes to my mind at that comment. While I had some close calls with some knives, with my healing factor, I did not, in fact, have any scars.
The rest of the class further devolves into more and more outlandish theories and ideas about my record, each one more extreme than the last. One was that I had a fight the boss of my gang, one that I had the fight with the boss of a rival gang, that I had a fight with both of the gangs, some combination of the three. The ironic thing was that they were honestly somewhat true, from a certain point of view. They just weren't aware of the true context.
"Uhm, so..." Kawakami seems at a loss on what to do, and quickly looks at the empty desk behind Takamaki. "Your seat will be that one, behind her." I can see from here that Takamaki rolls her eyes at the decision. I walk over, sitting down and preparing myself for the rest of the day.
"I saw those two in the hall together. You think they're dating?"
"That would mean she's cheating on Kamoshida!"
Again with that accusation, and I didn't need enhanced senses to see Takamaki stiffen up. I look to the front of the room to see if Kawakami had heard it, but she was too busy preparing today's lesson.
Usually, the difficult thing about school for me was just sitting for hours in one place while hearing the world outside of it. Forcing myself to listen to lessons while hearing someone's heart give out from overdosing, feeling a man getting broken bones and bruising welts in an alleyway for money owed, etcetera. With Shujin Academy, it seemed that wouldn't be the case, as now I would have to stomach listening to ignorant children shame a girl for being targeted by a sexual predator from only a few feet away.
Fantastic. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only issue.
"Everyone, please rise." A boy with a blue hue to his hair speaks up so quietly from the center of the room that even I could barely hear him. When he gets up from his chair, he has to put his arms on his desk in order to help lift himself, and I can see numerous bandages on his arms and the formation of a bruise eking out from the collar of his gym uniform, and that wasn't even getting into the fading black eyes he spotted on his face. It was obvious to me, given my own experience in delivering and receiving those kinds of bruises, how they could have been acquired.
After we sat down from morning roll call, he cast a quick glance at me before he just as quickly looked back to the front after noticing me looking at him. I brough a hand to my face, rubbing my eyes in order to stymie the encroaching headache I knew was coming.
I had been in Shujin Academy for barely twenty minutes, and already I had stumbled onto the disturbing conclusion that one of their staff members was a sexual predator, the rest of the staff was oblivious, the student body equally so, and that another student was likely being abused by said individual.
Not the best first impression.
'Well, it won't be much of a problem from tomorrow onwards.' The resolute thought settles into my mind, acting as a barrier to anything that could distract me from the lesson. I looked up, and Takamaki was still as stiff as before, too busy trying her best to not pay attention to the insults and shaming the class was slinging her way. 'I won't let him hurt you anymore, Takamaki. I won't let him hurt anyone anymore.'
Kawakami begins her lesson, and the rumors continue in hushed whispers despite her best attempts at silencing them. After a while, she simply ignores them while teaching us about themes and motifs about classic Japanese literature. I only have the scantest of interest in it. Decerning expression through writing has never been a strong point of mine.
After a while, class ended, and Takamaki practically shot out of her chair and through the doors before anyone else had a chance. I made a move to follow after her but was stopped by Kawakami calling me to her desk.
"So," she started, sounding unsure, "how're you doing so far?"
'Considering what I've found out about your place of work, not well.' "I'm fine." The response comes out easily enough, but she doesn't look convinced. I quickly add, "Thank you for asking." I didn't want to be rude, but I have more important things to deal with at the moment. She looks at me strangely for a moment, blinking. Did I say something wrong? She straightens up before she speaks again.
"Look, about your record..." She crosses an arm over her chest, rubbing her other arm in clear discomfort. "I don't know how everyone found out about it, but I didn't tell anyone other than Niijima-san."
I tilted my head in confusion at what she said. "Why would I think it was you who told them?" A teacher wouldn't do something like that to their own students, so why was Kawakami so worried.
…. Wait a moment. The only people at this school who would know about my records are members of the staff, hence Kawakami's worry that I would suspect her. Meaning that in order for it to be leaked, one of the teachers would've had to be either irresponsibly negligent or outright criminally so in handling my personal matters. And there was one man here who would qualify for that latter category. My eyes narrowed, and I bowed to Kawakami before I turned to leave the room. "Thank you for your concern, sensei."
"Wait," I suppress the flicker of annoyance and turn to look back at her, my hand clutching the handle, "what they're saying doesn't bother you?"
"No." Why would the opinions of people I don't know bother me? I turn and leave the room. "Have a good day." Kawakami doesn't respond as I close the door. I look down the hall, and even without my senses I can see nearly every student turn their attention towards me before quickly looking away.
'So, Kamoshida likely exposed my criminal status to the student body.' It only took me a moment to understand why he would do something so petty. It was a commonly held belief that criminals who possessed extreme inclinations utterly detested changes to their environment, as it added an uncontrollable factor to their everyday routine, which they interpreted as a threat. The unknown factor isn't as easily controllable compared to what they're used to, so they act irrationally in order to retain a semblance of it. This idea, however, I always found to be a bit too easily applied to the extreme types of criminal. All of them despised change, because change brings unforeseen risk.
A part of me felt oddly bemused by that. Kamoshida had yet to even meet me, yet already saw me as such a threat to his life that he decided to leak my information to the school in order to vilify me.
'Help yourself, Kamoshida.' I barely noticed the small scowl that came on my lips as I entered my next class. 'You'll soon find your fears justified, just not the way you expected.'
4/11 Afternoon
I remembered to prepare myself before the final bell rang, and the loud electronic buzz only managed to feel like an airhorn going off in my skull this time. Closing my books and exiting the room, I went as quickly to the entrance as I could.
"You think he's gonna get expelled?"
"I hope so. He seriously creeps me out."
"You going to pick a fight with the new guy?"
"You crazy? I don't want to get killed!"
I felt utterly confused with their fascination with me. What was so special to talk about? I had a criminal charge, that isn't something to be proud of, let alone worthy of polite conversation. I ignored them as best as I could walking down the hall.
"Why on earth would you let someone like that come here? At this point, it'd be useless how much I contribute to this school."
"Now don't be like that. A steady build up is necessary for people such as Kouzai."
Ignoring things has never been one of my strong suits, unfortunately. However, in this case, I didn't mind as much. Taking a stop at the turn of the stairs, I leaned my back against the wall and crossed my arms, listening to Kobayakawa and Kamoshida having their conversation in the former's office.
"Your troubles never seem to end, do they Principal?"
A small chuckle, meant to sound good natured. "Of course not. That is to be expected for a school like Shujin. We must strive for excellence above all else."
A laugh, meant to sound accommodating. "Well then, in that case I'll do my best to answer your expectations of me." Kamoshida moves to leave. Hand rests on the door. Muscle's rigid. "By the way, if the new kid causes any trouble, don't hesitate to send him my way. I'll be sure to put him in his place." Voice is tense, restrained. Yet there is eagerness.
"Of course, Kamoshida-san. I can always count on you to handle troublesome elements." Back tight. Hands are folded, but tense. Heart rate slightly elevated.
My hand clenches against my arm hard enough that I hear bone creak in protest. So, Kobayakawa knows. His tight posture and elevated heart rate meant he was nervous about what was being said. Whether that meant he was implicit in the abuse or incapable of dealing with it remained to be seen. Considering my suspicions for him accepting me, I was more inclined to believe the former.
'And this is the place that means to rehabilitate me?' I couldn't help but note a twisted irony to that idea. Shaking my head, I continued down the stairs and into the foyer, ignoring any other sounds from the school as best I could. Opening the door that held my regular shoes, I noted a piece of paper falling to my feet. Strange. I picked it up and noted how crumpled it was, unfurling it. The writing on it looked as if it was written by a madman in a cell.
MEET ME ON THE ROOF.
…. Okay. I folded it up and deposited it in the paper bin at the front, walking out the doors and towards the train station. 'I know some of the students want to take a shot at the scary transfer student, but they could at least be more subtle about it.' Regardless, I had more important things to do than to indulge teenagers. First, I needed to come back here and see if I could find out where Kamoshida lived on the school records. While I could just use my senses to locate him, I hadn't been around the man long enough to feel confident about finding him with just my powers. Regardless, I had to get back to the café and-
…. Ah. Yes. That's right. The café. Him.
I hurried my pace back to my temporary residence, and it took all of my willpower not to simply go and find Kamoshida right now, outfit and preparations be damned.
'The day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?'
4/11 Early Evening
The sky is already a bright orange and purple by the time I get back to Leblanc, and a part of me thinks I should just crawl up the wall and enter through the window to my room rather than go through the front. Today's discoveries had not done my mood any favors, and returning here to this man was simply salt in the wound.
Letting out a tense breath through my nose, I grasp the handle to the door and walk inside, not stopping for a second to even spare him a glance. I idly note a woman with a leather jacket and blue dress sitting at the bar. He looks to me, grimacing.
"So how was-"
"Fine." I cut him off, and whatever else he might have said dies in his throat. I didn't have any patience to deal with him right now.
"He lives here?" A voice, soft yet firm. The woman.
"Yeah."
"Seems real friendly."
"It's... complicated." Sounds withdrawn.
Reaching my room, I ignore the downstairs conversation and throw my bag onto my bed, immediately grabbing my costume from the box it was in as well as a duffel bag I could carry it with. Stuffing all of my essentials I got changed into the underlayer of my costume. One of its benefits was that they were nothing more than simple workout clothes, so I could wear them outside and not look suspicious whatsoever. Securing everything I had, I walked back downstairs and headed for the door.
"Where are you-"
"Out." I didn't bother to listen to whatever protests he might have had and exited the place, and once I turned a corner, I bolted into the nearest alley I could find and jumped between buildings onto a roof, ducking behind an AC unit. Unzipping the bag, I changed into the rest of my ensemble, switching out the black workout pants for the white of my costume. Sliding my web shooters onto my wrists, I checked the ammunition of the cartridges and in my belt. Still enough to last for tonight and maybe even tomorrow if I'm conservative with them, but I needed to find an alternative to the place I used to go to for the chemicals needed to make my web fluid. I learned that the store had unfortunately closed down during the period I had yet to be charged.
Putting aside that concern for the moment, I took off the vent cover of the AC unit and detached the handle of the bag, wrapping it around a broken section of it, then put it back in place so it would hang from the inside of the vent. Satisfied with my hiding spot, I sharply turned around and sprinted to the edge of the roof, before quickly shooting off like a spring from it and soaring through the cool air of Tokyo. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the wind pelting against my body in a continuous stream of cold before I fired off a web and began to trek back to Shujin Academy. If Kamoshida was there, I'd deal with him as soon as possible. If not, I'd hack into his personal files and find his place of residence.
"Hey, my purse!"
I detached from my web and spun in the air, looking down to the street I was perpendicular to. With my enhanced vision, I quickly spotted a purse-snatcher running from a woman he bowled over, her handbag clutched under his arm, pushing people out of the way.
Never a moments rest.
Twisting my body to face the street, I shot out a web line at an angle that would allow me to easily swing just above the heads of the startled pedestrians. As I descended, I grabbed a higher section of web and yanked upwards, bringing my lower body up and wrapping a leg around my web, pointing my feet towards the sky. Reaching out with one hand, I grabbed the back of the thief and threw him upwards on the rising arc of my swing. He let out a yelp as he was flung into the air, and as he spun towards me, I snatched the purse form his hands, and took my other hand off my web line, using my leg to keep me attached to it and shot a web to the man's chest, quickly sticking him onto a light post he was close to and leaving him dangling back and forth as he fell towards the ground.
Bringing a hand back to my line, I unhooked my leg and swung back towards the victim, bringing my feet against the sidewalk to slow my approach towards her. A crowd had formed around the scene, yet they all parted away as I came closer until I eventually stopped in front of the woman, flinching back as I came within arm's reach. I held out my hand.
"Your purse." She flinched again at hearing my distorted voice, and shakily held out a hand to grab her bag.
"Th- thank you." She mumbled out, not even looking like she knew what she was saying.
"Hm." I noticed a scuff on her head from when the thief pushed her over, and took a moment to grab a collection of bills and pressed them into her hand. "For any damages." I didn't give her a chance to refuse, yanking on my still held web line, going back into the air and shooting out another line to gain some speed.
"Can I get some free money?"
That almost brought a laugh out of me, but I stamped it out as I continued to my destination. That little detour took longer than I thought it did, as the sun was now almost completely set on the horizon. Not wasting any more time, I hastened my rush to Shujin, not bothering to stop for anything else.
By the time I landed on the edge of a building overlooking the school, stars were beginning to show in the sky, and the last embers of the sun were slowly fading. Noticing some lights still being on in the building, I grabbed my work phone and tapped the screen, the time reading five after six. Were club activities still going on, and if so, did they usually continue this late?
Putting that aside, I considered my approach. Shujin had the unfortunate fact of being surrounded by buildings that were far taller than it, meaning that if I were to jump from the one I was on to its own roof, I'd likely alert anyone still at the school from the impact. Speaking of which, I let my senses wash over the building, listening for anyone that could still be there. All I got were the lone few janitors that were on each floor.
Satisfied with my search I looked over to the building that was across from mine and behind Shujin, an idea forming in my mi-
BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG-
My head whipped around so fast that I was certain I gave myself whiplash, and I nearly lost my footing on the edge, bringing my hand to embed itself in the concrete to keep myself in place.
That... that was gunfire. The thin eyes of my mask were probably as wide as they could get, and I felt a cold sweat break out over my body. For as long as I could reasonably use this power, the number of times I had heard a gunshot of any kind could be counted on both hands, and only just. And what I just heard wasn't the sound of a single shot from a standard police revolver, but undoubtedly from a machine gun.
Focusing as best I could, I released the cap I had over my senses, and forced myself to take in all of the various sounds of the city.
Car backfiring, hitting a pothole.
Glass breaking from dinner table, baby crying.
Music blaring, drugs flowing through bloodstream.
"What the fuck are you doing?! You want the cops to crash in here?!" There. I focused on the area as best I could, spying on that conversation.
"Relax, this place is abandoned. Besides, we put up sound panels beforehand. Also, we need to make sure your shipment is up to our standards."
'Shipment?' There was an arms deal going on? I had never encountered anything like that in the two years I had started in earnest as a vigilante. How the hell could anyone even pull something like that off? Japan had some of the strictest gun control laws in the world, so strong that even yakuza were afraid to use them due to the penalties involved. So who the hell would be bold enough to bring a shipment of guns to Tokyo?
I looked back down to the school below, indecision gripping me. I could just go down there and get what I needed, leaving Kamoshida for another day. No, that wasn't acceptable. He had his sights set on one of my classmates already, and was likely abusing others. Leaving it alone was reprehensible, not even worth considering.
"Up to your standards? The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
But if I let this go, there would be weapons on the streets of Tokyo that they weren't prepared for. Weapons that could get hundreds of people killed. And there was the matter of just who was bringing in these weapons to begin with.
My breath hitched in my throat, and a well of shame I hadn't felt in a long time burst from my stomach as I turned away from the school and ran towards the previous sound of gunfire. 'I'm sorry, Takamaki.' I prayed that I made the right choice as I rushed to my new destination, my feet carving out pieces of concrete as I launched myself from the building and flung myself across the skyline of Tokyo. Black-grey clouds had taken over the once stary sky, and droplets of rain began to pelt my skin. The needling specks felt like a painful reminder of the risk I was taking.
'If anything happens, I swear, I'll make Kamoshida pay.' It wouldn't be enough to atone for my negligence, but it would be a start.
4/11 Late Evening
The destination was a dilapidated warehouse, clearly having seen better days. Faded areas where signs used to be were disguised by the downpour, and windows had been covered with plywood. However, with my senses, I could tell that the plywood was a new addition due to the lack of dirt and dust polluting them, with new pieces of sound dampening panels attached on the other side. They were strategically placed around the walls of the place, enough to stop a loud enough noise, like a gunshot, from anyone outside. Given there were no police cruisers on their way, it evidently worked well enough.
Shame for them that they weren't designed for me.
Twelve people, nine stationed throughout the ground floor, three around a truck and crates. Metal and gunpowder inside them. The guns. Ten crates of guns.
My spine froze at feeling the number of firearms that had been imported illegally to my home. The question of who had enough resources and authority to make something like this happen nearly overtook my thoughts, but I put it aside for now. I'd be able to ask one of these fine gentlemen anyways.
Jumping from the roof I was on to the warehouse's, I walked to the roof access door put a finger on the top hinge, attaching myself to it and pulling up, taking the bolt out. Putting my left hand against the door to hold it, I did the same for the other two and set the door aside, gaining access to the building. I jumped up and stuck myself to the roof, as the second level walkway to the door was made of metal, and given the rust that was on it, I would attract attention immediately. It only took me a few strides to have the group come into view, and I stopped to consider my plan of attack.
The nine people I sensed earlier was divided up between a group of three and six, the former being closer to the cargo and shipping truck with the latter group being slightly spread out among the area, not far enough to be slacking off, but enough to surround the other three if needed. The group of six was all garbed in a similar manner, with thick black motorcycle jackets with armored sections, clearly designed to take some blows if a fight arose, as well as matching black armored gloves. In comparison, the three others wore much more casual clothes, and were clearly uncomfortable with the subtle display in spite of their attempts to hide it. I sensed that all of them were carrying some form of knife or blunt weapon, each of them concealed in pockets.
The last three were over an open crate, and while I didn't recognize the model of assault rifle that was in them, the fact that they were assault rifles was enough to make my stomach twist in shock. Unlike the previous groups, there was only one person in black with two others dressed in the simpler clothes.
"So, I take it the rest of the order matches these?" The one in black spoke up, grabbing a rifle by the barrel and then brandishing it. From the way he was carrying himself, it looked like he knew what he was doing.
"Not exactly." One of the dealers spoke up, and immediately the rest of the room went silent. The group of six tensed up, hands moving into pockets and grabbing knives and batons. For his part, the one talking to the dealers merely looked the man in the eye.
"Explain." The dealer let out a scoff.
"Sure thing, boss." At the lack of a reaction, the dealer continued. "We could only get you three boxes of M4's. Too large a shipment of those looks suspicious. Might be a common gun, but shipping to a place like Japan is a bitch n' a half."
"I thought you were good at meeting expectations."
"Asshole, I'm better at meeting expectations than your wife on your anniversary." Charming. Black leather shared my reaction, and turned the safety of the rifle off. I got ready to jump in, priming my web shooter to snatch the gun from him, but the dealer put his hands up in surrender. "Relax. We replaced what we couldn't get with P90's and AK's. That good enough?" A terse silence came over the room, and was ended when I heard the click of the safety being put back on.
"Yes. Get the cash." He put the gun away in the crate, and that's when I decided that I was done waiting. I shot an arm out and fired a ball of web on the open crate, trapping the guns and the man there. The room burst in confusion, and the moment they looked up I jumped at an angle as I shot a line out to the ceiling, swinging into the fray and kicking the two dealers into each other, the two tumbling into the back of the open back of the truck. I shot out a quick batch of webs to keep them from moving and escaping with the rest of the shipment.
Three in front, the rest behind. The latter prepping their weapons, former beginning to charge.
One of the last dealers made a mad charge at me, throwing a wild clothesline. I brought my elbow up, his wrist breaking against it and grabbed him by the throat – man behind, charging with baton - I grabbed his arm and bowled backwards with my foot propped against the man's stomach, and when I rolled to my shoulders I kicked out, the two harshly colliding. I sensed the last two dealers coming upon me, so I propped my body up with my hands. Moving along the floor, I swept my right leg to the first man's knee and he came tumbling down like a bag of cement, a loud snap reverberating throughout the building. I ignored his scream as pushed off the ground, spinning in the air as I brought my heel down on the last dealer, his head hitting the ground and going limp into unconsciousness.
I grabbed the edge of the truck's trailer and surveyed the rest of the criminals. Most were still fumbling for their knives and batons, but two of them had begun to come forward. Before they came close enough, I wrenched my hands into the metal and pulled, a large chunk coming with me. I jumped back down to the ground, ripping the metal off the body and kicking it towards the two of them. They fell to the ground, and I was quick to follow up with my webs to keep them that way.
There were only five of them left, the two I threw into each other getting back up, and they were all rooted to their spots, one of them still having a hand in his pocket, barely even gripping the knife in it. Their eyes were wide in shock and fear. I stayed where I was for a moment, letting them stew in their indecision for a few seconds longer before I started walking towards them. They managed to move in step with me, slowly forming a circle. Three of them had knives, while only one of them had a baton. The dealer I threw looked around, cradling his broken wrist against his chest, and eventually found a loose set of chains that he grabbed. Even with it, he didn't look confident.
"I'll give you one last chance." My electronic voice made a couple of them flinch, but no one made a move to attack. "I just took down seven of your men. What do you think you all can accomplish?" The moment the words left my mouth, I saw the fight leave their eyes. Even outnumbering me five to one, seeing one person take down several people in barely just as many seconds made one's self-preservation instincts kick in.
"Fuck you, prick!" At least, that was the theory. The dealer with the broken wrist sprung behind me, bringing his chain arm up. Unfortunately for him, it was evident his left hand wasn't his dominant one, as the draw was awkward and caused the chain to whip around and hit the back of his head. I took advantage of the mistake and twisted around, bringing my leg up in a roundhouse kick, hitting the underside of his chin and sending him spinning into the air. He fell on a stack of pallets that broke underneath him, the snapping wood leaving a deafening reverb throughout the building. I brought my leg back down slowly, turning my head to glower at the last men standing. They shifted uncomfortably, their teeth grinding in indecision, before whatever plans of action they had died under the weight of my stare. They dropped their weapons and put their hands behind their head, the knives and baton hitting the floor in quiet clinks sounding perfectly final.
"Smart." I snapped my hands up and fired webs at them, the impact sticking them to whatever surface they were shot onto. I made sure to cover up their mouths as well, and added more layers to everyone else before turning to the man I trapped onto the open crate of guns. His brow was covered in sweat, and his eyes were trembling in fear despite his attempts to hide it.
"I'm not fucking talking, freak." I walked up to him, making a point to invade his personal space and leaving my face inches from his, the eyes of my mask narrowing into sharp lines. His heart was beating so fast that I was worried it would eventually give out, but he managed to steel himself, closing his mouth into a thin line.
"I don't need you to." I snaked my hand into his pockets, procuring his phone. He began to protest, but I brought a hand up to cover his mouth and squeezed. Whatever he was about to say stopped in its tracks under the creaking bones of his jaw. It was a flip phone, obviously a burner of some kind, but I ignored that for now and dialed a number, bringing it to my ear. It rang for a few moments before the other end picked up.
"Hello, Tokyo Metropolitan Police, what's the emergency?" A feminine voice answered, slightly more enthused than the last operator I contacted.
"There's a gun deal going on in Machida prefecture at an abandoned warehouse on Yumi Street, address 1015. All the perpetrators have been pacified." There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and I was worried that she didn't understand me due to my warbled voice.
"... Is this some kind of joke?" My eyes narrowed at the accusation, so I let go of the dealer's mouth and walked towards another crate and wretched it open, balancing the phone of the edge and picked up a rifle. I put my left ear against my shoulder and covered my right one with my hand, then unloaded the entire rifle into the ceiling. Despite my attempts, my ears were still left ringing. I shook my head to stave it off, and picked the phone back up, thankful to not here the dial tone.
"You tell me."
"... I'll send police right away." They hung up after that. I closed the phone then walked back to the stunned man, noticing that the webs keeping him trapped were starting to dissolve. I fixed that with another batch, reloading with a fresh pair of cartridges and pocketing the empty ones in my belt. I stared at the dealer for a few moments, his mouth hanging in shock. I put his phone back in his pocket, not needing it anymore. There wasn't likely to be any useful information on it due to being a simple burner, and I didn't have any of the equipment needed in order to hack into it. Hopefully the police would find something on it.
I looked back down to the open crate, my silver-grey webs contrasting against the gun-black metal of the many assault rifles. My eyes narrowed, the whirring of my mask's mechanisms being the only sound I could here in the warehouse outside of the breathing of the incapacitated dealers and the heavy downpour of the rain outside. I looked back up, and my glare was enough to make the man flinch.
"Why are you brining guns into Tokyo?" My voice came out as a low growl due to the warping effect of my synthesizer, and it had the desired effect. The man quailed at hearing it, trying to shrink into himself.
"Fuck off." I snapped a hand to his throat, and he immediately started choking for air. I was in no mood to be played around with, especially with what I had to leave in order to deal with this.
"Wrong answer." I edged him closer to my face, to the point I could see the thin white eyes of my mask reflected in his own brown eyes. "Give me the right one, or you'll be living off taxpayer money in about five seconds." His pupils shrunk, and his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. It felt like my chest shrunk in on itself at what I was doing, but I stymied any apprehension I might have felt and focused on the task at hand. I may have stopped one gun deal, but I doubted that the person who ordered them would drop it all of a sudden, and I needed to gain something from this that would last in order to justify my coming here.
"Al-alright." He croaked out, and I could feel the other men shift in shock at what he said. "They're for-"
Metal clicking into place, chemicals pouring into slots, mechanisms firing. Sharp object cutting through the air, coming towards-
My eyes widened, and my free hand shot out like a bullet to the back of the man's head. It caught something thin but sharp, and it took me a moment to recognize that it was a needle. I looked up to where the door to the roof would be, and I caught the briefest glimpse of what looked like a metal tail sliding back out the door. I didn't even think when I shot two lines of web out and yanked myself towards it, grabbing the edge of the frame and shooting myself out to the frigid rain. It took only a moment for my eyes to adjust, and when they did I caught only another brief view of the one who almost killed the dealer. The only thing I saw was a dark silver, tail like limb snaking down the edge of the warehouse.
I made a move to dive down it, but I heard the sound of another thing being shot out from it. I was near the edge when I managed to catch myself and throw my body back to the roof, the object breaking through the concrete easily. But before I could recover, I heard a clicking noise coming from the cylindrical projectile, and I had just enough time to cover my ears before my entire world went white and it felt like my ears were at the epicenter of a nuclear bomb going off.
I recognized I was screaming even though I couldn't hear my own voice, and I felt my back grinding against the coarse material of the roof. Every muscle in my body was spasming from the shock of the flashbang, and it felt like my eyes had been gouged out with a hot poker.
It took until my throat was raw and my back was covered in concrete dust and rocks that I regained any control of my senses, and I tried to get up, only for my shaking legs to give out. I scuffed my chin on the ground, but it honestly felt pleasant compared to the bombardment I just went through. I focused on it, using the throbbing pain from it to steady the rest of my senses, and I eventually managed to stand, albeit hunched over and barely cognizant of my surroundings. The rain acted as a welcome blanket, helping me to reorient myself and replacing the earlier pain with the comfort of a cold breeze.
Water shorting out neon signs, electricity thrumming in lamp posts, tires screeching, footsteps approaching- Wait, what?
I was brought out of my slight reprieve by the sound of hammers being pulled back on their revolvers, and my eyes were stabbed by the blinding rays of flashlights. I brought an arm up to block it, and I heard a dull sound come from behind the light. My ears were still plugged, but I could make out what was being shouted to me.
Freeze.
I crouched down and sprung from the roof, my legs protesting the sudden movement. I ignored any pain I felt and let my senses wash out over the area, using them to map out the area. I shot a hand out and met purchase on the edge of another rooftop, bringing my hands together than pushing outwards, leaving small craters of impact on it. The wind buffeted past me, the rain feeling like small bullets pelting against my body. It helped to emphasize any building that was in place, and I shot out a web and began a mad dash towards Shibuya.
The entire way over, the back of my mind couldn't help but remind me of what I put aside in order to deal with this. About how I tried to get some information to make it worthwhile. And here I was, running away, with nothing to show for it.
Author's Note
The procrastinating prick returns. I do have a slightly better reason this time though, being that I'm working on several different stories at once. Cause that's smart, right?
Anyway, our first meeting with Makoto! What I hope I did with her perspective is to get across how different she is from Kurokuya. As you can all probably tell, he's rather clinical and detached in his own POV, whereas with Makoto here there's a more clear emotional element to her narration, showing her age as a teenager despite her best attempts to act older. I also wanted to further emphasize Kurokuya's detachment from his peers as well as his... let's say determined compulsion of righting wrongs he believes he's made.
