2 August 2024
5:50 A.M EDT
Haizi's Apartment, New York City, United States
Early to rise Jaraslav often was. Lifting his legs out of his fabric coffin for the night, covered under a layer of blankets. Listening lightly for his next steps of words.
"I'm up! Get up! New day! New day! New day! New day!" he said, shaking Zelislav's cot lightly.
"Draho! We have a busy day ahead! Let's get to work!" Jaraslav dashed and tripped over Drahoslav's legs over to the couch.
He'd hold his arm while Stanislav reached his left leg and caught his awoke comrade.
Drahoslav stretched his arms as he made a yawn, "I'm getting up!" before his body broke above his sleeping position.
Dvinaslav follows suit relatively unaffected or hard hit. Following all five's awakening from sleep, she checked the clock and mumbled, "Goddammit Jara, why at Five fifty-two."
The four moved their sleeping things out from the floor, or at least away from the couch. Permitting Drahoslav and Dvinaslav to move Stanislav's wheelchair for him to get up and sit on it.
Meanwhile, progressing their next set of routines. Guiding each other to a bathroom for hygiene. Half an hour is taken as a whole to complete it all, with Stanislav going last, due to his inability to do it himself without screwing up or in pain.
In Haizi's living room, the two extraverts inside the group stared at each other for the near future. Jaraslav's brushed green hair, extending to his ankles with strands of yellow in it, assumed to be dyed. Easily mistakable for a girl if he didn't show some masculine traits of a rockstar. Including his thundercloud tattoo at his nape, reading something in Cyrillic script.
Contrary, Zelislav's hair cut short, he was shorter, dyed darker green with blue lightning motifs, and depressingly light gray eyes. However, heavier by a sized margin. Composed more relative to the insanity-driven mentality for drama.
"You're doing good right now?" Zelislav opened up, his head gazing Jaraslav's eyes.
"Yes, it is!" he replied, hopping slightly into the direction of him, staring closer while his Belarusian accent altered half a pitch every few word pronunciations.
With the chance of pushing him away, Zelislav didn't entertain the option. Permitting him to continue with what he wants to talk about.
"Are you excited to enter the work market, Zeli Zi?!" Jaraslav said, tilting his chin slightly above necessary for eye contact.
Zelislav tilts his head, "Are you?"
"Of course I am! I'm gonna go to a few hardware stores and other places later today and craft unique things to present to the public and maybe a few tech employers!"
"You sound like it, and before breakfast, really?" he said while arching his lip.
He backed off, but whipped his hair as he'd flick it back to his left side. Grinning prominently, "Absolutely right, my Zelislav. We're gonna present our benefit to the big tech companies in New York! Get ourselves employment and support our cause! For Tokyo!"
Zelislav clapped his hands, smiling "Yeah! For Tokyo!"
Jaraslav stared at the TV again, "Speaking of which… I need a volunteer for some devices and stuff!" he turns to face Zelislav again as he points his finger up.
"I have nothing to do, why not?" he smiles as he lifted his shoulders slightly.
In the distance, an aroma of pleasant breakfast passes into the living room. Causing Zelislav's nose to sniff it like cocaine. "Add some ammonia, one and two, and three makes a rotten egg."
"Nice one, Zelislav!" laughed the person with a brown bowl cut, who decided getting strips on the cut would make them better, Haizi!
"You know it, alright." the Pole turns around, lightly smiling.
Inside the kitchen, Dvinaslav, in tandem with Drahoslav, cropped the first meal of the day. Grease crackling below several eggs. Dvinaslav using her best technique involving a kitchen knife as she went to cut several kinds of meats Haizi had for leftovers over the previous nights before their arrival. Setting the eggs to fry a few more seconds as
Drahoslav pulls three kinds of jams from the fridge.
"Why did he not eat these foods earlier? I understand the jams and a few other things, but why not these meats?" he contemplates, checking on their eggs and setting them on five wheat bread slices. Turning to Dvinaslav, "How's the zapiekanakas looking?"
She gave a brief response "Nicely," she replied, hearing Drahoslav shaking a bottle of tomato ketchup.
Switching the top open, Drahoslav squeezes the container, releasing a drizzle of it across the open-faced sandwiches.
In the living room, Stanislav glues to his phone in his hand. Surfing the web. Looking to the work being performed inside the apartment's galley. A four-burner cooker, counter space lined above in granite sturdy to hold besides the extremes. Rambled dark stained wood in all places with the fibrous material and white lined tiles for flooring.
Zelislav sniffed the air again, feeling the smell, expelling his Polish accent heavier for a moment, "Is that a zpiekanaka being cooked?"
Dvinaslav raised her head as she opened the toaster oven and took a few open-ended sandwiches out, "Yes we are cooking zpiekanakas."
Jaraslav, meanwhile, switches the TV to Netflix again as he heads over to watch a livestream, shouting to Drahoslav, "Gamers are playing in China today!"
"I'll check it over once breakfast's done," Drahoslav said back, returning to deliver the first round. A platter with cold cut sausage bits with open-ended egg sandwiches in ketchup.
Next round, the zpiekanakas with minimal slices of standard bread loaves beside the baguettes inside the dish Zelislav pronounced perfectly the first time when talked.
"What's a zaepkanaka?" Haizi asked, struggling to pronounce the word.
"Polish open-ended sandwich," Dvinaslav replied as she sat down to begin her breakfast of the day.
Haizi permits a nod to the thing. Clenching the cup of commercially provided coffee in between his hands while taking a sip.
Drahoslav took one of the six zpiekanakas, made from a trio of baguettes, drizzled in mushrooms, ketchup, and cheese. Quickly eaten up from the perspective of the others.
The journalist gives them a look of interest, giving the sandwich a gluttonous look, "Can I have one?"
"You can." Drahoslav said, taking a few bits of sausage to his mouth before raising his legs as he then said to the entire group, "I'm off to look for work. Continue as you are!"
Haizi nods before obtaining the second zpiekanaka.
6:22 A.M EDT
New York City, New York, United States
Heavy cargo pants, attached via a tight belt and a white undershirt underneath it. Protected with a light vest. Drahoslav travels the length of the escalator to the metro. Girdled in other individuals' presence, he restrained his arms from swaying into danger, tightly snuggled inside his pockets. Behind him marked the station people entered and exited. Fiddling cash across his pocket. Conceiving pass lenders, necessary in getting inside the subway system. On his way to looking for work. Without proof of citizenship in the United States, it would become a difficult challenge for the miracle to occur. A job with paying money on minimum wage, not necessary to survive on his own, or with five people. However, workable to getting him the ticket and necessities for the destination in Japan.
"This should be as easy as getting a tram ticket back in Bratislava." he mumbles in his breath as he proceeded to fill one of the rectangular machines full of money, and cards.
Minutes get spent, eventually making him come with the main payment of subway usage inside the building, the MetroCard. Glancing it over while having several American dollars Haizi gave him in it furthermore.
Drahoslav turned to matters elsewhere, more things on the agenda had to be complete. Reaching a set of several people slowly inserting one card at a time. One out of order, he jumps in line. Time passing by relatively quickly from the increased pace the metropolis has to work around as function. Scanning his card to pass the turnstile, officially entering New York's metro station.
He scavenges along, joining people on their way, "This place is busy."
A flat ceiling lined the acoustic effect the room had. Echos filtrating his ears while spending time working on how the map of the New York City subway station marked.
He grits his teeth as he scratched his head, confused, "How the hell am I gonna find an unskilled job that needs someone to do it? When this subway system has over three hundred stations."
However, as soon as he was about to begin cracking the enigma, the feeling of someone's finger tapped his shoulder. Coinciding when a blast of air conditioning flew the swish off from overlooking his forehead.
"You came in unprepared for the nightmare this city was?" he spoke, having a Japanese accent however perfect English.
Drahoslav glared the boy, dark brown eyes contrasting the green eyes the boy gave in. Not out of aggressiveness, but housing shock. Lightly browned hair with a messy ruffle near the top but straight lower it went until ending at his shoulders. Noticeably less in height relative to him. However, wearing light silk sleeves with a checked and striped T-Shirt with varying colors covered in a jacket.
After his phase turned over, he returned his face as he spoke, "How am I supposed to explain this? I came here unannounced and unexpected."
"Simple, do your research."
"I could have, but I spent the majority of my time before I came here composing a resume for jobs," Drahoslav replied.
"Your problem," he turns away.
Drahoslav breathes in, backing from the system map, "Yes it is my problem. But I have no time to fix it, I have to get moving. Will you help me?"
"Fine," he replied.
Picking his self up, Drahoslav walks with the boy. Taking note of details, directions, what streets, and particular places the location provides a connection to.
"Follow, we're going to my part-time job at a cafe."
"I didn't get it."
"The cafe I work at."
"Oh."
A roaring silver rolling stock screeches to its end, various sliding doors and people packed like contents in a hot pocket. Spilling over as door sets widened, emptying it of departures before taking embarked passengers. Drahoslav remaining near the boy.
"Is this your first time riding a mass transit system?" he asked, settling at a chair near the door.
Drahoslav sat next to him, "In the New York system, no. But I have been on the system in Bratislava."
"I see," he said again as the doors closed and motion going under their feet.
Things turning silent, Drahoslav spent the moment humming an anime song in its original Japanese form.
"What is that song called?" he asked.
"Ai Wo Torimodose, from the anime Hokuto no Ken," he replied, speaking it like he knew it.
"Oh. For a non-native speaker, you pronounced it well," he said.
"You say it like you're Japanese. Are you Japanese?"
Silent for a moment, the boy realized he was cornered. Sighing while nodding.
"Interesting, and it's odd. Seeing someone who's not the age of majority from a country thousands of kilometres west. And I've studied Japanese for a bit, so I've been practicing pronunciation."
"Intent to visit the country sometime?"
"Yes."
"What's one thing you like about Japan?" the boy asked again.
"The video games, the NerveGear, and the potential of the VRMMO market it's building. If things from what the errors Sword Art Online showed can be fixed."
The boy's stance changed, coming to the realization when he said several Japanese exclusive developments, Drahoslav's level of intelligence about Japan became apparent to him.
"We have something in common," he spoke, "I like video games too."
Looking back at him, Drahoslav smiles, "Can I get your name? Mine is Drahoslav."
"Kyouji," he spoke back.
"Nice to meet you, Kyouji." Drahoslav replied, his tone losing volume.
Inside his head, several neurons clicked. Closing his eyes for a moment as his fist shook. Thoughts circulating through him during their continued silence. Thinking continuously of one name. Speaking to himself.
"Is he, Shinkawa Kyouji… In New York City? When he should be in Japan?" Drahoslav opens his eyes, although clouded to pure black.
He turned his eyes back to Kyouji, "Why are you here?"
"Could ask the same question," he replied. "Forced to come along for family reasons."
Kyouji stares at him while their station arrives. Standing as he'd say, "We're getting off."
Drahoslav follows suit. His hand gripped to an overhead brass bar while spreading his legs. Surfing the train as it screeches to a halt. Pushing his back away as the doors slid apart from another. Both of them leaving into another station ground.
"Is Japan this hot?" the Slav asked as he pulled for the MetroCard again.
"Varies," Kyouji said, grappling his card to take the elevator, with Drahoslav taken into account as he performed the task at hand.
Drahoslav keeps following him into the lift, watching Kyouji rub his eye lightly while watching the arrival train depart. Their rising platform getting them back from an underground station to a calmer district in the area. Nearby a semi-crowded cafe. Multiple individuals coming out with their satisfied light treats from their barista. Bricks acting as the banks to the avenue collecting cars. Kyouji waved to a worker of the cafe maintaining the entrance.
"Welcome back to your third day. Where's your uniform?"
"I'm on my day off."
"Forgot, sorry Kyouji." he said as the worker gave a slight bow, which was like an indicator light of understanding Japanese customs a little.
He nods before flicking his hand to tell Drahoslav to follow his person. A modern cafe he worked for, and had a way to create boba, bubbled tea. Alongside standard coffee and other amenities they provide for revenue. Light rotational pivots from oars above their heads, venting heated wind and gain a more tolerable room relative to the stink.
"Here we are," Kyouji stated to Drahoslav, a slight smile erupting on his face.
But Drahoslav wasn't so optimistic about the cafe, watching several people of presumed Asian descent surrounding a table. Occasional gestures giving off the suggestion something was going on. Tempting him to walk towards them to figure the situation.
"Coffee is overrated, and doesn't translate well when powdered," a guy said with a Filipino accent and wearing a tank top, showing off an upper arm spanning tattoo and covering a small tray with the substance.
"Coffee doesn't have the same appeal in boba as coffee. It's only popular because America drinks more coffee than the places that made bubble tea popular." said another person, but with a lighter accent, incident of a different part of the U.S.
One disputing person slams her hand on the table, "But coffee is much more-"
Until Drahoslav interrupts and said, "Well shit, matcha's a type of tea. Boba is also a kind of tea. It's all about the history of tea and coffee. Let me ask a question, who usually drinks tea, and who drinks coffee regularly?"
Only one replied, a lighter masculine voice, "I drink a cup of coffee before I get up in the morning."
Drahoslav backs his feet from them, "Personally, at least for me, I'm from Slovakia, and I drink tea more than coffee."
Without much more interruptions, the boy moves away from the adults there. Receiving the point he was attempting to send to their heads. Using the moment to fix his giant jet charred and purplish colored bang in his hair.
"I recommend you get the classic boba milk tea, if that's your first boba drink," Kyouji said, smiling slightly.
"Okay then," he turns to the Japanese boy, before back to his registerer, making his register for a normal boba tea.
"Four twenty." said the registry operator.
Drahoslav provides the necessary money to obtain his plastic cup filled with tea. Containing the traditional darker color he remembers tea as however cloudy and lightened. Alongside darker bubbles at the bottom.
He proceeds to a table while swirling his arm around, observing the solution and small black pearls spin inside the cup. The straw providing the instrument for the rotation to happen.
"I've heard of bubble tea, but is the bubbles editable?" he asked softly as the straw stops.
"They're made of safe tapioca, safe to eat, but they're unhealthy in large amounts."
He nods, approaching the head of the noodle pointing at the ceiling. Pulling fluid into his mouth as he failed to hold a smile as he sipped.
Drahoslav uttered while he smiled, "I did not expect it to have this light, sugary taste."
"You haven't seen other flavors yet, or boba from Japan or the rest of Asia, yet," Kyouji spoke as he sat in the booth with him.
"Is it popular with Asians around the area?" he asked.
"The majority of the customers when I'm at my shift, are of Asian descent."
"Neat,"
Walking inside, two guys clicked their tongues and point their fingers as another conversation spoke up.
"Mister Podcast Haizi! How are you doing today!" declared one of the workers.
"Working on the special podcast episode. And I just got the idea that'll take it by storm. The special episode." Haizi replied.
"What's it about? And you feel excited about it, man."
"Gaming's FullDive Revolution; The Future for VRMMORG's and the Case Study of Sword Art Online."
"Sounds exciting."
"The guy who I found at Central Park a few days ago gave me the idea. Speaking of..." Haizi turns to Drahoslav and Kyouji's booth. "They're right here!"
Suddenly, the two guys and Haizi blockade the two boys into the booth as both receive swift and drastic handshakes.
One of them spoke enthusiastically, "So you guys influenced his next podcast to cover VRMMO's?! CONGRATULATIONS! It's difficult to convince Mister Podcast to cover experimental-"
"It's the wrong word to refer to it, Jeli. I've been interested in experimental video games for a while but I didn't have the will, reach, or people to cover FullDive VR and expect it to succeed. But since these two might have the potential to make it happen." Haizi interrupted, still showing his positive outlook however with an earnest connotation.
Kyouji stares at Haizi for a moment, his eyes giving a telling he didn't believe the guy, out of the randomness of his appearance to the area.
"I understand you guys don't have the sense to believe, what I'm speaking is true and not well understood. You might be new to here, and that's fine. The podcast's title is Tech Weekly. For the past two weeks, we've had no podcast episode and if it applies to the two of you, it's alright to not participate." Haizi said before he backed off.
"What's the special episode gonna be about?" Kyouji asked as he saw Haizi leave, after a brief search on his phone confirmed it was a real podcast.
"It's gonna be about FullDive, VRMMO's, and we'll have a case study of Sword Art Online, from all the info that's been said about it and the truths."
He nods, slowly, "What are you wanting me and Drahoslav to do?"
"Show up at the studio, you know something about SAO or have an experience with VRMMOs and FullDive?"
Kyouji nods. Staring Drahoslav in the eyes as Haizi wrote a couple of notes on his journal he kept when he had to become a journalist, while being a podcast runner at the same time.
"Can I get your name?" he asked the boy.
"Kyouji," he replied.
"Alright, Drahoslav, Kyouji. This piece of paper is where the studio I'm renting for the occasion is going to be at. Tomorrow at one o'clock, we begin. We'll be there for at least two hours, so plan for such a thing to occur. I suggest arriving early."
Standing up, Kyouji takes the paper slip, leaving the Slav alone with Haizi. Flicking his hand to get his hair out from his eyes while he exits the cafe.
Drahoslav wouldn't wish to question the boy or his actions. Aware they'll face each other another day, if his agreement to appear on Haizi's podcast wasn't a lie. The cafe's standard level of lifestyle and environment returned to normal. Haizi's homies returned to where they were originally, Jeli back to work and serving like a bartender when amped and ready to serve who he was originally made to do.
"How's the boba?" Haizi asked, paying attention to Drahoslav as he drunk it further.
Drahoslav raised his head as he looked Haizi in the eyes, "It is good. I'm considering bringing the other comrades later on. Once I'm more aware of what I want them to see and do. But for the current moment, I'm gonna go apply for a job here."
"Good luck, Drahoslav." he spoke as he'd watch him depart.
Meanwhile, passing by the cafe, Jaraslav, Zelislav, and Dvinaslav passed the cafe's windows.
However, I didn't get the job. Haizi's podcast and the opportunity Kyouji's appearance in New York gave me allowed me to truck past the setback. Hopefully, something good will come out of the podcast when it happens.
-Drahoslav