His black boots hit the ground with a resounding thump. Men lining the alley instinctively cringed, trying to shrink themselves. He wasn't a very discreet person, never had been. The Mafia had killed his parents, raised him to become a killing machine, rumors said. Some claimed he was the spawn of the Devil himself. Many wondered about the inner workings of his mind. Was it a dark, desolate desert? No, it was a burning vat of rage, a eternally flaming fire pit. Wrong, it was a blind flash of bloodlust. Or perhaps it was nothing at all, just a blank white screen.
In truth, it was none of the above. His mind was a complex jumble of intense emotions. Feelings of pain and happiness that were thousands of times more intense than that of a normal man raged inside of him. They burned his skin, desperately trying to escape somehow, to fly out of his eyes and burn his enemies. But he had been trained. He did not yield to their call. He remained emotionless, cold.
He was not a bloodthirsty monster. He killed only those he had been hired to as a mercenary or those who tried to kill him or take his possessions. And yet, the world still only saw the bodies. His chainsaw was his only friend.
Kazu Hayashi was his name and he waited for nobody.
He reached the train station. He planned to head for the Ramen-Pop Shop nearby, but he felt an unusual pull from the incoming train, so he waited. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but it felt important. The train screeched to a halt and passengers lolled down the steps and onto the platform. Kazu still waited. Then, something happened. A young, silver-haired boy stepped off the train with an old man. The boy turned, tilted his head questioningly at Kazu and then, he did the most unexpected thing. He smiled. Kazu stared. No matter where he went, he always seemed to have an aura of fear that surrounded him. But this boy stared straight at him and smiled! The oby turned. Kazu followed them out of the station. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.
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