Chapter
1: The Peculiar Events of Asabi Town
Tonight
was a night of meetings for a young man in his early twenties, who stood in the
light of a streetlamp, clad in a black over coat. Visible breath left the man’s
mouth as he stood in the quiet of the night, with only the sound of snow
crumpling in the distance to keep him company. He had come to Asabi town
because of a friend’s request, and now he wondered why they had to meet so
late. If it wasn’t bad enough that the mid Febuary weather showed no signs of
spring, he received a text that told him that his friend would be a little
late. Looking at it again, he brushed his short black hair behind his ears and
looked up to the full moon that stared back with a yellow glow. The light faded
through his black framed glasses, and calmed the sharp brown eyes that
expressed his issues with the midnight meeting. A sudden crunching of snow
called his attention away from the sky and made him look to a shadow to his
left that stood just a bit out of sight to be recognized.
“Seiji-san right?” It was a young man who seemed to lurk just a little bit off, and made
Seiji pick up a briefcase as he turned and silently approached. Had he not been
himself, a man who had business on his mind first, he would have smiled as he
saw his friend and thought back to the last time they met. It was back when the
friend was in middle school, and he himself was in high school. A tragedy had
bred familiarity between them, and a similar mind had given a mentor a student.
As he moved close enough to see the puffy winter coat that wrapped the
silhouettes body, he suddenly came to a stop as something suddenly struck his
mind. It had indeed been a while since he saw his student, but before then,
they were almost like brothers, and standing where he was bathed in the
streetlamp’s light, Seiji knew that his friend would have recognized him
immediately.
“Who
are you?” He called out and it seemed that the figure smiled, as he moved a
little closer to Seiji with his head hidden under a hood.
“I
thought that I could trick you since I heard it’s been a while since you saw
your friend, but I guess I messed up already.” The boy replied as he shoved his
frigid hands into the pockets of black jeans.
Suddenly
Seiji realized someone was behind him, and turned his head slightly to get an
idea of whom it was. Without turning his head completely he could see a white
winter coat, and a pink skirt that fluttered over black snockings. He tried to
turn more to get a look at her face, and to confirm a suspicion in the back of
his mind, but a fear of turning his attention away from the boy, prevented
him from achieving his goal.
“Don’t
worry Seiji-san,” The boy said. “We aren’t here to hurt you, we just want the
files.” He said and Seiji gave up on seeing the girl and turned his attention
back to him. In a sudden breach of character, a smirk came across his face and
Seiji crossed his arms and gave the boy a smug look.
“If
you thought that you’d have to hurt me to get it, then you know that I won’t
give it, right?” He asked and could see a puff of smoke carry a sigh out of the boy's mouth.
“I
think it’s pointless to resist, your friends won’t be here.” The lad replied and
made Seiji double take at the use of friends.
“Well
you should know that one of those friends was my student for a good amount of
time. In other words, I don’t need him to be here to handle you.”
“So
you’re going to fight me?”
“If
you are who I think you are, fighting you won’t turn out good for me. However,
if you are who I think you are…” Seiji replied as a black droplet fell from his
face. “Then once I’m like this, there is nothing even you can do.” He went on
as tan skin became as dark as ink and his body and clothes became a puddle on
the ground. The boy ran over to what remained of Seiji and was knocked back as
the puddle rose like a geyser, and began to move with its own life.
It
shot past the girl who stood behind Seiji and wormed like a snake over a path
of snow. With impressive speed, the sentient puddle outmaneuvered the boy and
his ally, leading them further away from where they had stood, and further into
the shadows of the sleeping town. In the parted abyss of an alley, the duo lost
their target, and traded a look between each other as they contemplated the
next action they should take.
Meanwhile
on the other half of town a young man blew into his hands, as the ringing of
his cell phone informed him that it was twelve, and made him mutter a curse.
For the dark skinned lad, tonight was a night of meeting too, but unlike Seiji
whom he shared a need of glasses with, the meeting for this boy wasn’t one made
on good terms. There were many differences between him and Seiji that made them
stand out in the night. Seiji’s unfamiliarity with the town and the meeting time being requested by his friend, contrasting this lads overwhelming familiarity and the time being decided by himself. His name was
Masaru Taka and it was a name that was well known throughout the quiet hamlet,
as the youth who possessed the power to bring others to justice. If he was more
of a foolish youth he would akin himself to a hero, and proudly wear a mantle
that would symbolize that, but Masaru knew better than to call himself that,
and barely had a thought to do so. There was no mantle hanging from his back,
but instead a black coat over his shoulders, and in the place of stylish armor,
was only the leggings of his black pants. With a white wool hat over his low
faded black hair, Masaru laughed at himself for the brief thought and wondered
for a second, if a hero was something he could ever be.
Like
Seiji, he was distracted by the crunching of snow to his side, and turned his
attention to the approaching figure that remained oblivious as he danced in the
world his mp3 player created. For a moment, Masaru had to stare to confirm that
the person was whom he suspected, a youth about his age with crew cut black hair.
As if to present himself as an opposite of Masaru, a white jacket clung to his
body over equally white pants. The only thing that bonded them other than an
enjoyment of fighting, that Masaru knew the boy had, was the black boots that
kicked up snow as each step carried him closer and closer.
“Hashiba
Ryuu!” Masaru called him out, but failed to free him of his musical world. As
the boy began to pass him, Masaru extended a cane to block his path and finally
Hashiba came free and gave Masaru an angry look.
“Wow,
didn’t expect to see you this late.” Hashiba laughed as he took a few steps
back and Masaru smiled.
“That’s
pretty much what all the thugs say.” Masaru laughed and Hashiba grimaced as he
was roped in with fodder. “Petty theft, assault, assault with a deadly weapon,
and vandalism. Do you deny that you committed these crimes, Hashiba-kun?” He asked
and he could tell Hashiba was taking pride.
“I
did ‘em Taka, what are you going to do about it?” Hashiba answered and Masaru’s
smile began a little smug.
“You
know exactly what I’m going to do.” He said as he dropped his cane, and before
Hashiba could shove his earphones into his pocket, Masaru threw a punch and
knocked them out of his ears.
The
sudden strike stunned the delinquent as he stumbled back a little, and as he regained his senses, they were knocked away again as Masaru ran forward
and struck with an arching punch. This time Hashiba recovered fast and threw up
his arm as Masaru closed in again, and knocked the breath out of him. He head
butted Masaru as his body reeled back, and as Masaru held his head, Hashiba
charged and knocked him to the ground. With the cold of the snow chilling his
neck, and the fists of Hashiba bruising his face, Masaru went into an annoyed
desperation and swung some of the frozen liquid into his target’s face. Hashiba
pulled back as he tried to clear the snow from his eyes, but before he even had
a chance, Masaru struck him again and he fell into the exact thing he tried to
get rid of. As the snow was finally removed from his eyes, Hashiba looked up to
Masaru and spat on the ground. At the sight of blood mixing with snow, a smile
came across the delinquent’s face and he rose and drew out a knife. The blade
glinted in the light of the closed store they stood in front of, and made
Masaru pick up the cane.
“What
do you think that’s going to do?” Hashiba scoffed and Masaru held the cane like
a sword.
“More
than that knife.” He wanted to sound as confident as ever, but in the face of a
weapon, even he had to revise his behavior.
“That’s
what you think.” Hashiba laughed and as a trail of light cut through the air,
Masaru was taken aback as Hashiba drove the blade into his left hand. He let
out a grunt through gritted teeth as he pulled it forth and constantly coursing
blood splashed repetitively against the ground. Masaru stared with aghast at
the masochistic sight with his face a little green, and his head a little light.
Hashiba’s self-affliction had managed to do more than stun Masaru, but as the
repeating taps stopped, Masaru realized that wasn’t Hashiba’s goal. The
delinquent had suddenly swung his hand back, and made the blood droplets jump
off his fingers, where they became long thin needles that he droves into his
right arm. Taking further advantage of Masaru shock, he tore a vicious wound
into his arm and watched the blood rush to his hand. There, it crystallized
into a long blade, and the blood running from Hashiba’s left hand did the same.
A
sudden reflection of red from Hashiba’s blades, broke Masaru free of his shock,
and allowed him to prepare for the attack. He raised his cane above his head as
Hashiba swung his arms down and repelled him, then swung the cane around and
slammed it into the delinquent’s side. Hashiba shook the bruise off and charged
Masaru again, weaving through his offensive defense and stabbing both blades as
far as possible into Masaru’s chest. He roared as he pushed Hashiba away and
fell to the ground, holding his chest with his right hand and barely holding
the cane with his left. He wanted to rise as he heard crunching snow move
closer, but felt his knees quake as he tried enduring. There was an obvious
outcome that Masaru had to submit to, and it made him laugh at a dark joke, as he
realized his superhero fantasy became tragic. The crumpling moved faster as
Hashiba took off into a run, and just as he rose above Masaru with both blades
drawn back, he felt something cold cut through him and watched his blade stain
the ground. He tried to create the crimson blades again, but the blood did
little more than ran from his wounds. Suddenly something heavy struck Hashiba’s
back and sent him flying over Masaru, out of the light of the store and into
the shadows a few feet away. There, a large boomerang was caught by a young girl’s
hand and a weak Hashiba rose as she prepared to throw it again. Although he
showed a determination as fierce as Masaru’s, he gave in to his circumstance
and threw himself into an alley before she could let it go.
For
a moment, the girl showed a hint of wanting to go after him, but as Masaru
collapsed into the snow, she gave up the minute want and ran over to him. As
she rolled him over, she realized he was knocked out, and pulled a cell phone
out of her coats pocket.
“I
found him.” She spoke. “He’s in pretty bad shape though.” She went on and ended
the call, as someone told her; they were on their way…
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