Chapter 1: Spark
A young man lay strewn across a thin futon, propping his head up in order to watch the television in front of him as it droned on and on. Insects perched outside the window filled the apartment with chirps and buzzing. The reporter's voice emerged from the television to fill the apartment.
"Now that July has started, the weather in China has been hot…"
The insides of the apartment were filthy, and the air stank with the smell of mold and garbage. The walls were scrubbed with dust and dilapidated to the point where they barely looked tenantable. There was only one light - a blinking bulb atop the ceiling fan that was hanging by a thread.
"...and the distribution of air pressure has been bringing in warmth, making the overall temperature higher than last year all across Japan…."
Dirty dishes filled the sink, piling up to a peak where they threatened to topple over. Empty bottles, cans, and boxes of takeout food were. Plastic bags filled with trash were all over the floor, and dirty, unwashed clothes lay in heaps. The hardwood flooring had clearly not been sweeped or mopped in some time.
"…The Kantou Koshin'etsu area as well as the Tokai region will have clear, sunny, summery skies ahead…"
There was a rustling of a bag followed by a loud crunch, before the bag was tossed across the room onto a pile with other garbage. The front door of the home began to bang, clearly being pounded from outside. The tenant, who was a pale young man with tousled black hair, rose to his feet, paying no mind to the neglect around the apartment. He lifted the remote towards the television.
"...The temperatures will be hotter inland, so please be aware of unexpected rainstorms in areas near the mountains-"
The noise stopped with a click. Grunting, the tenant shuffled towards the door, reaching for the knob.
On the other side of the door, an older lady rudely pointed a finger in his face.
"How many times do I have to tell you that your TV is too damn loud?!" The rude lady yelled, loudly.
The sudden sunlight burning in his eyes was invasive. Inhaling, the young man sighed, forcing an apologetic smile to his neighbor. He knew for a fact his TV was not that loud - she just liked to complain every time he turned it on.
"Sorry about that, Miss…"
The old lady walked away, muttering about kids being disrespectful these days, which was ironic considering he was a grown adult. As soon as she left, the man quickly shut the door.
The tenant reached into his pocket and flipped open his phone, checking the time; he saw he'd have to be at work soon.
He walked to Ebisu Station, taking a train that would take him to Shibuya Station, where he then could walk to where he worked in Udagawachō.
Upon his arrival at the store, he threw on his apron, forced a smile on his face, and got ready to deal with brain-dead customers and his bitchy manager for another 8 hours.
Every day when he came here, even as he stacked DVD's and scanned items in bags, he lost himself in the possibilities of the future, and what he could be doing instead, like sleeping. Getting lost in his headspace helped him make it through the days. Although this work was not hard, it was menial and he barely made enough to support himself.
He had not heard from his friends in three days, and it was beginning to make him concerned. His friends had gone silent, when normally they kept in regular contact with him, sharing details of everything going on in their lives. They've known eachother since middle school - it wasn't like them to just cease texts and calls. He assumed they were busy and had simply forgotten to talk to him.
He was then forced to snap out of it when customers began coming in; as the only other employee in the store that day, which meant he had to work the register, stock the shelves, and assist customers alone, since his manager was useless. Most of the customers were fine, but at least once a day he had to encounter specimens in the wild that ruined his entire day.
He had waited ten minutes for a loud guy who was on the phone whilst standing at the front of the line to finally pipe down and let him finally scan the DVD. A lady had come in with a case that had the label torn off, trying to return it and get her money back, when that movie was not even from his store and they didn't even give refunds. When he told her this, she looked at him like he was the one who made the police and stormed off. A kid had come in and tried to plead for him to give him the DVD for free, and threw a literal tantrum, kicking and screaming and wailing on the floor of the store until the presumed parent came in and dragged him out whilst he watched in disgust.
The last customer in line had checked out, and he stood at the counter behind the register, placing an elbow on the counter and palming his chin; he'd have a few minutes of time to think now that the store was empty for a little bit. His thoughts began to wander back to his friends.
Last he had heard, Makoto had met this guy, Kiyomasa, through his cousin Masaru, who was supposed to be a member of this biker gang called Toman. He had always declined when his friends went to do their delinquent activities - not because he was some upstanding citizen, but because they were adults now, and he had better things to do.
Better things my ass, He thought. Those guys were probably having more fun than he was right now.
"Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you the same thing, Hanagaki Takemichi-kun?" An annoying voice drawled.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Takemichi's head did not move, instead his eyes trailed over to the owner of the voice; his manager, who had finally decided to come out of the back office, and of course it was just to chastise him.
She craned her neck, gesturing for him to follow her. Grunting, he did, walking into one of the eyes double-sided with shelves upon shelves of plastic DVD's covered in colorful logos.
Without saying a word, she harrumphed and pointed towards a particular spot on the shelf.
Takemichi just stared. "Something wrong…?"
"Are you kidding me?" His manager asked him as if he was stupid.
Takemichi just stared at her longer, his eyes darting over between the shelf and her. "Um, no…? Did I do something?"
"DVDs need to go back on the shelves as soon as they're returned. How many times have I told you this before?"
Now, Takemichi finally noticed what she was pointing at: an empty section of the shelf where he had forgotten to put back returned items. "Oh!" He said dumbly, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry about that-"
"-Yeah, I know," She huffed, cutting him off. "All you ever are is sorry." She spun around and left him behind.
Bitch, Takemichi thought, running back over to the counter to grab the returned DVDs.
About an hour and a half later, it was 5:30 PM, and he could get out of this place. He left the store with a spring in his step and walked out onto the street.
Upon his walk down the streets of the district, passing bycolorful storefronts and bright billboards, staring straight ahead, attempting to make no eye contact with anyone as he followed his usual route down to Shinjuku Station, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a sleek, shiny black car that he would never be able to afford.
He was barely conscious of the effor he put in to drag a coin across the door and scratch the paint, and he ignored the scratching sound that grated his ears. By the time the guy who owned the car came out, crying out in outrage that someone has vandalized his car, Takemichi had already turned the corner to the right and continued shuffling down the streets.
Shibuya station was a frenetic hub of movement, not only because of the trains that were arriving and departing every few minutes atop steel tracks, but because of the tired people cramming onto the concrete platforms to board them. Takemichi found the bright neon sign that read: JR Yamanote Line. He joined the long line of pedestrians that were all piled up to board as quickly as they could.
Every once in a while, the line got so long that everyone would not be able to board at once. If he had to wait for the train to drop the people in front of him off and then wait for it to come back around, he'd punch a hole in his apartment wall and worry about his landlord later.
A buzzing noise emanated from his pocket. He fished his phone out as the train he was about to board came to a screeching halt in front of his platform.
He flipped it open, seeing who was calling. "Akkun?" Takemichi mumbled.
"Takemichi!" The person on the phone shouted so loud that he almost dropped his phone.
"Damn!" Takemichi jerked the phone away from his ear, saying, "What the hell is your problem, man?!"
"Takemichi, you gotta get over here quick! We need you!"
"Is something wrong?" He inched forward as the line began to move towards the open train door at an urgent pace. "Where are you? And why are you yelling in my fucking ear?"
"It's Takuya!" Akkun cried. "He's in urgent care!"
"What?!" Takemichi shouted, feeling a sudden overwhelming panic that gripped his chest in a tight pinch, made his breath hitch and quicken, and his stomach naseuous. He did not care that other people had stopped to glare at him for being rude, nor did he care when he was blocking the people behind him in line. "What the fuck happened? Was it that guy - what's his name?! That guy Masaru said was a gangster. Was it Kiyomasa?!"
"Yes!" Akkun sounded like he was holding back tears. "Masaru said this guy was cool, but he was lying! He beat Takuya half to death!"
"Why?!" Takemichi demanded, as his ears swarmed with the roaring of blood and he suddenly felt the rapid beating of his heart. BA-BUMP! BA-BUMP! BA-BUMP! BA-BUMP! BA-BUMP! BA-BUMP! "And where were you guys?! You still haven't told me what happened!"
"His goons kicked the shit out of us, too! I'll explain everything, just get here!"
The line stopped with a click, and Takemichi could hear the ringing in his ears drown out the sound of the clacking heels. He rushed out of the station, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled away.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone