///
"Hey, *******-kun."
...Who...?
"I'm very happy right now."
....
///
…
Singing… where…
Ah… sleepy…
But… the… singing...
My… right...?
I reach… for… the… sound…
I grab… something…
… My… phone…?
Press… the… Pick… up… Bottom…
…
Is someone… talking…?
“Ugh… who…”
“….” Someone… inhales…
And…
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!!!”
My sleepiness is blown away by the loud shout coming from the phone. My body sits up out of habit.
What made him call me now of all times.
“…I’m going back to sleep.” I don’t want to talk with him right now.
“You’re terrible at waking up as always, aren’t you kiddo. Looks like living alone didn’t change that.”
My grandpa hasn’t talked with me for a while and he calls at what seems to be the most random of times.
“Why are you calling me now?” I answer as my sleepiness starts to set in again.
Ah, I want to go back to sleep.
“What time is it in Japan right now?”
Why is he asking about the time of all things?
Oh.
It looks like he’s overseas right now if he doesn’t know the time.
I look at the annoyingly bright screen of my phone while squinting my eyes.
“It’s eight AM.”
“That late? Get out of bed you lazy ass.”
Eight AM? Late?
Ugh. Annoying.
“Normal people still sleep at this time, if it’s a day off.”
“That’s an excuse humans use not to better themselves. Or to be more precise it’s the excuse you use to laze around.”
I don’t want to hear this.
Too sleepy. Way too sleepy
“I’m going back to sleep.”
“No, you’re going to wash your face.”
“No, I want to sleep a bit more.”
“I know how you sleep, by the time you wake up it’s going to be noon or evening.”
“I don’t see a problem with that.” I yawn, lying back down.
“There are a couple of things I need to talk to you about. Get up.”
“No.”
I end the call and proceed to turn off the sound of my phone.
Then I close my eyes and try to fall asleep.
As my mind starts to blackout and I’m almost asleep…
DING DING DING DING DING DING
The sound of my intercom starts ringing.
It looks like someone is playing a prank or some annoying salesman is at the door.
Whoever they are they’ll leave in a couple of moments.
DING DING DING DING DING DING
But...
For some reason, it doesn’t stop even after a while. What an annoying salesman…
…
…
…Wait.
Don’t tell me.
I get up and walk over to the intercom in the living room.
I pick it up and put the receiver to my ear.
“This one doesn’t have a mute button.” Grandpas voice sounds annoyed. “So go wash your face.”
How did he even manage to call, it’s not like the intercom has a number…
…
Fuck you, you geriatric pervert.
“Ugh, fine. Give me five minutes.” I put the receiver down and go to pick up my phone.
///
After making some matcha I sit down on the couch with the cup in my hand.
Sip
“So, what do you want?”
“First things first. How’s your sex life.”
…
…I need some more matcha to deal with this the first thing in the morning.
Sip.
“What sex life?” I respond as calmly as I can.
Why does he have to ask this every single time he calls me.
“I want grandkids!” This time he sounds desperate.
…
Sip.
Yep, the usual stupid bullshit.
“You mean great-grandchildren, right?” I don’t even want to give this dumb conversation any thought. Or even a take it seriously.
Sip.
“You know what I mean! You have as much money as you need to pick up chicks. So, go make a harem with the power of money. I order you.”
What a responsible adult. No wonder I turned out the way I did.
“It’s a pain in the ass. You should watch less harem anime at your tender age of sixty and go to a retirement home.”
“I don’t want to hear that from a hugless, handholdless, kissless virgin!”
“And I don’t hear that from a geriatric manslut.”
Not good I’m getting caught up in his pace. I need to calm down.
Sip.
“I could never understand how you can drink matcha in such big quantities.”
Damn, he changes gears very quickly. From my life to my drink of choice, in a second. Must be his old age making his memory bad.
Or he just wants to change the subject. Understanding that egging me on won’t work.
“Is this all you wanted to talk about? My private life and my love for bitterness?”
Just get to the main point already.
“No. That was just some grandpa and grandson bonding time.” I wish ‘bonding time’ was something less stupid that the shit grandpa always pulls. “I heard someone got killed in your school.”
“That’s old news if you were curious you should have called me a couple of days ago.”
At this point, I can barely force myself to care about that.
“I was busy.”
“Did you even bother checking what happened?”
“I did, when I read the name Suzuki, I almost had a heart attack. But after reading the name of the victim, I couldn’t care less. So, who really gives a damn when that bastard grandson died? It’s not the murder itself that interests me.” That bastard? “But the lack of a proper investigation is what makes me curious.”
“Yeah, they just played it off as an accident.”
I give a primitive answer. Not like there’s anything to hide.
And I bet grandpa knows more than me about all of this.
“Not curious why it happened?”
“I don’t care.”
“You didn’t see how it happened?”
“No, I was right there when the whole thing transpired, got covered in blood too.”
“So, you saw the murder then?”
“Not exactly, but I know who the killer is.”
“Hmmm. Who done it then?”
“The new transfer student in my class.”
“Name.”
“Harumi.”
“…Harumi what.”
“Just Harumi.”
“Strange.”
“She is strange, I’ve talked to her a couple of times. Still can’t understand how she even functions.”
“She caught your eye or something?”
Grandpa sounded desperate again.
Does he understand what kind of situation I am?
“No, it’s more her just bugging me nonstop.”
“Why you of all people?”
“Good question. Maybe it’s because of something I said.”
“Is she cute?”
So, we’re going back to this.
Is he really that desperate for me to find someone?
“How is that relevant? She just killed someone recently, remember? Aren’t you worried that she’s going to kill me too?”
“No, this is your chance.”
…
This is going to be something very stupid.
“What chance?”
“To get a super-powerful, mysterious, and lovely-dovely girlfriend.”
…
I think the word lovely-dovely will never apply to that person.
“From what exactly did you get that idea from. Some new anime? Or maybe a manga?”
“An old light novel series that I’ve been following for a while.” I can feel the annoyance in his voice. “The protagonist in it is such a twat. He has a long-lost childhood friend who is an eldritch abomination that is willing to do anything for him. He can just take over the world and live happily ever after. But noooooooooooooooo, we need the harem shenanigans to continue, because the protagonist ‘loves everyone’. Both the main character and the author are twats! For not picking the best girl inside and outside of the story! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.” Grandpa continues to scream for a while.
Since there’s some commotion from the receiver, I assume his in a public place. What idiot just goes out and starts screaming because something annoys him. In public none the less.
…
Sip.
I’m not going to give an answer to him.
Even though I got to admit having some sort of eldritch abomination as your girlfriend does sound very cool. At least for the bragging rights that ‘my girlfriend is more awesome than your girlfriend’.
Or something like ‘a demon girl’, ‘robot girl’, wouldn’t be bad as well.
The more I think about it more I agree, that the MC sounds like a twat.
Come on ‘childhood eldritch abomination girlfriend’, who wouldn’t want that?
What a twat.
Well, childhood friend tends to lose more often than not. So, grandpa should have seen that coming.
“Fine, I guess that as much info as I need for now.” Looks like he’s done screaming.
“Wait. Can you tell me where you are right now? Are you on one of these business trips you always go on at random times?”
I need to ask for souvenirs after all.
“This one is not a business trip but yeah something like that. Don’t worry I’ll bring souvenirs.” Grandpa knows what I’m thinking very well.
“From where exactly?”
“Afghanistan, I’m visiting an old friend. So, it’s more of a vacation than a business trip. His son is supposed to pick me from Kabul Airport about any minute now. What about you, any plans for the day?”
“I’ll just waste time, as usual, not like I got anything better to do.”
“Did you lose interest in going to the shooting range? You know the place where you spent your entire free time. I thought you liked that gun I gave you on your fifteenth birthday.”
Shooting range? Oh yeah, the one on the school campus. Since it allows students to practice in their free time I used to go there and waste time.
As for my gun well…
“Yeah, I think I lost it months ago.”
“…You what!” Grandpa sounded outraged. “Why didn’t you tell me!? Do you know how hard it was to get that into the country!? Did you at least look for it!?”
“I mean, it’s not in the apartment. I searched every inch of this place and could not find it. My theory is that I got too lazy, so I probably left it somewhere on campus. But ended up forgetting where.”
“…I think a stroke is the best thing that will happen if this conversation continues, so let’s cut this short…. I’ll keep in touch kid.” He sounded completely winded as he ended the call.
….
Well then…
Where should I eat breakfast today... It looks like the restaurant near my apartment should do.
I don’t want to think too hard about something as mundane as breakfast.
///
I enter the small restaurant near my apartment building. It’s a cramped place with the only seats being stools near the kitchen stall. There are only about eight seats in total so not many people can fit into this place.
An old lady who runs this establishment is tending to the kitchen, as she always is when I come here. There are two other customers here beside me, a guy in a kimono was completely focused on his food while staring at the phone in his hand. Another man wearing a suit was looking at the TV which was running the news.
It looks like that suited guy's company is still working today. Not looking forward to that, when the Army eventually gets rid of me for incompetence.
Not looking forward to that at all.
“Welcome.” The lady behind the stall said energetically while continuing cooking.
I make my way to the stall and take my seat.
“The breakfast set.” I give my order to the old owner.
“Yes, please wait for a moment.” Immediately she started to put a couple of dishes on the tray.
This lady here is not lying when she says wait for a moment, even though she works here alone, the service here is quick.
This place might look shabby, but their customer service is top-notch. The food here is not too bad either.
“ -is entering service with the Imperial Japanese Navy.” The voice from the TV keeps talking.
I look at the television from which the voice was originating. The TV is showing images of a large battleship being escorted through what looks like Tokyo Bay.
Are they having a parade or something there?
“Hinomaru is the third Mikado-class battleship built for the defense of the mainland territories. She will be based in the Imperial Base in Hakodate.”
Hakodate? It looks like that’s the new thip that’s going to be based in Hokkaido. Well, I’m not really sure if these ships are great or anything. And I doubt there will be a war in Japan during my lifetime.
The surrounding countries are where the problems are at.
“Dear customer, here’s your breakfast set.” The old woman says as she puts the tray before me, and fills a glass cup with cold water. “Please enjoy.”
Miso soup, tamagoyaki, rice with an egg, fish, veggies, and a bit of meat as aside.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
I start eating.
From time to time I take a sip of my miso soup and continue to watch the morning news that keeps droning on about something.
It looks like the subject changed.
“Another wave of the child kidnappings has been reported in Hiroshima.”
That again?
These disappearances have been going on even before I was born.
They are endemic to most countries in the world. Kids younger than ten keep disappearing all over the place.
No witnesses, no clues, absolutely nothing to point what happened.
As if they just disappeared into thin air. And people just got used to this after a couple of decades.
Humans sure are sad creatures.
After the story with the children who disappeared the news shift to a more light-hearted tone.
Some sports news, feels good stories and news about the sluggish economy.
Seriously, do these people understand what tone is.
I look at my tray and see that all of the food is gone.
That was fast, I didn’t notice how quickly I was eating.
Welp, I’m done here.
“How much?” I ask the woman behind the stall.
She was cleaning the dishes left by the other two guys who finished eating.
“That will be five-yen, dear customer.”
How cheap. Is this business making any money with prices like that?
I didn’t have any five-yen coins, so I just left a ten-yen bill that I had on me.
“Keep the change.”
After paying the bill at the counter I leave the restaurant.
I look at the sky and gauge the weather. Some clouds, weak wind, and the sun is glaring at me but is not particularly bothersome.
The weather has been rather tame for the entire week. Which means it’s all downward from here.
I imagine there’s going to be Typhon soon. Or at the very least, very heavy rain. I should probably start carrying an umbrella with me to school. Just in case.
Well then.
Since I don’t have anything to do, I’m taking a long walk. It looks like I’m walking towards the outskirts again.
I turn and start walking in the durection of the distant reachs of Nagasaki.
///
The day went on as usual.
With nothing better to do, I just keep walking around the city for hours and hours and more hours. Stopping somewhere to have a short drink from a vending machine or having a quick rest in a shade.
Basically, my entire day was spent doing nothing productive.
I was walking near a canal at the outskirts of Nagasaki, the sun was already setting.
I don’t even have something as typical as a hobby.
…
No, wait I do, but I forgot where I put my gun. Using something from the school arsenal is possible, of course. But there are restrictions on what kind of weapons the school can own.
Regulations and all that stuff.
So, the problem is that they don’t have anything that suits my tastes.
And getting a new firearm would be impossible in Japan. I’m not old enough to legally own a firearm after all. The only reason why I could own that revolver was due to grandpas tampering.
Usually, I would spend my entire day thinking of nothing and just wasting my time. But with grandpa reminding me about that beauty, I can’t stop thinking about where my revolver disappeared to.
I need to look around my apartment again when I come back. Just in case I put it somewhere obvious.
I keep walking and continue my thinking about my predicament.
“Brgh.” I let out a weird sound as something collides with my head.
I stagger due to being caught off guard. The collision was not strong or painful, just irritating.
Irritating because this always happens, at the same spot, at the same time.
I look at the rubber ball that hit my head.
Those damn squirts. At this point, it feels like these stupid brats do this on purpose.
“Hey, mister throw the ball over here.” One of the culprits shouts in my direction.
I pick up the ball and turn to them.
About ten in total. All of them are wearing kimonos of various colors and quality of textiles. The quality of their individual clothes is showing that this group of kids is comprised out of families that are very different in their wealth.
All of them seem to be around five to six years old. They look like they were having fun.
But after they seem that it’s me, they’re cheerful attitudes change.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“It’s him again!”
“Why it’s that guy again? Does he do this on purpose?”
“Taku-kun who’s that?” One of the kids is apparently unaware of who I am.
It looks like someone new.
“He’s the one who always breaks all of our stuff. That the ‘butthole’ I’ve been telling you about.” Their leader a boy, responds to the newbie.
Also, it’s not butthole, it’s asshole.
“So, you want your ball back?”
And give the sincerest smile I can.
It takes a lot of effort and my face already starts hurting.
They know what’s going to happen now.
“No! Please we’re sorry so-”
But they know there are nothing and no one to stop me.
I let go of the ball and as it closes to the ground, I kick it with some force.
My kick hits the ball with such high velocity, that all the air contained within makes the sphere pop. Leaving the ball a flabby piece of fabric.
I pick up and throw what remains of their toy towards the kids.
“Here’s your ball, play responsibly now.” My face hurts from smiling so much.
But it’s worth it. They seem legitimately freaked out.
All of them start running away crying, except the kid who seems to be their leader.
Well, he always tries to be the brave one.
The boy is doing his best to hold back the tears that are building up in his eyes.
Not that it matters.
When the dam bursts he starts to cry too.
“Mister, you’re a butthole!” The little boy screams at me and runs away crying with the rest of his gang.
“It’s asshole, not butthole squirt.” I feel compelled to correct him.
Seriously, don’t your parents teach you this stuff when driving in the front seat? How lousy.
Well, I feel better now, time to go back home I suppose.
…What was I feeling bad about in the first place?
Something about the school campus and not being able to find…
Meh, probably nothing important.
///
By the time I made my way to the busier areas of the city, it becomes dark. With only the streetlamps and building illuminating the surroundings.
Many people are wandering around the city. Some are salarymen done with their overtime shift. Couples walking around hand in hand. Friends fooling around and thinking about where to go and spend time.
A couple of people who partook too much in liquid courage. And are barely able to stand straight on their feet.
So, I don’t really pay attention to my surroundings, when someone grabs me by the shoulder and starts to drag me to an alleyway with force.
There about two other people who... didn’t look very… sober.
One was pissing into a corner and the other one was throwing up his insides on the ground.
…Huh. This is going to be something very stupid.
Life is stupid in general after all.
The punk who dragged me here now pushes me to the wall, by the scruff of my kimono.
I only let him do this because I can’t bother to resist.
“All right listen here, give us all your money and maybe we won’t right you up too much.” His speech sounded a bit slurred.
But this situation…
…a mugging? In Nagasaki? Are they stupid or what?
“You’re not from around here, are you?” I decide to confirm my hunch.
“And what’s that to your wise guy.”
“Isn’t one of the League sanctioned academies here?” I keep my cool, not like they’re a threat to me.
“Are you asking why the hell we’re in a city like this? Mugging you?”
“Yeah what else. Are you telling me you don’t expect to run into a Superhuman here?”
Superhumans are a rarity. Most people don’t even meet one during their entire lifetimes. Therefore most continue to live as if we don’t exist.
But since Gunkanjima Academy is based in Nagasaki, there is a much higher percentage of Superhumans in the area. Therefore, muggings and violent crime are even lower here than in the rest of the country.
“If you were one of those freaks then I’d never been able to drag you here.”
He seems to think that a superhuman would just resist.
How stupid.
“And what would you have done if I did resist?”
“I’d just ask you to buy some water for my friend then.”
So, they got one of their friends drunk as a cover?
“So are you giving us the money or not.” It looks like the punk that’s holding me is really getting irritated.
“No.” Let’s finish this farce, I want to go to sleep.
“Alright, then this should be more fun.” The one holding me down prepares his fist to strike me, completely confident in my helplessness.
But before he can even prepare his drunken punch…
Crack
My fist makes an impact with his face. There was no time for the hoodlum to react.
My weak punch, with no force in it, resounds through the alley.
The guy immediately falls over to the ground.
His spit is full of blood. The teeth that were knocked out by the impact and now were only small spots on the ground. Now he was just lying in the blood that was mixing in with the urine of the other hoodlum.
You see, this is why we need to keep Japan's streets clean.
“You bastard!” A brave soul decides to act and runs at me. The one who’s been pissing until recently doesn’t seem to realize what situation he’s in now...
Poor posture, no proper technique. I don’t need to do anything special here.
I take a step forward letting my ‘opponent’ do most of the work.
The punk’s own movement rams him into my fist, with a loud sound of impact.
For a second, he stood, face meeting fist.
And like that he collapsed, his nose broken. Blood streaming from both nose and mouth.
Now I turn my attention to the one who’s been throwing up until just recently.
He’s on the ground, looks like he could barely stand in the first place. And the punk just keeps staring at me.
It looks like he understood that they fucked up bad. The punk now tries to crawl away backward, while not being able to look away from me. Fear running through his body.
“Where do you think you're going.” I slowly close in towards him.
But man, these guys are pathetic, even those annoying brats have more guts then them.
I continue to close in, and the punk continues to crawl.
But his crawl ends as his head collides with something.
Or someone to be more precise.
A man head taller than me, his face was a bit difficult to see due to the dark. Short black silky hair. His clothes were red kimono of high quality and black hakama.
Wait when did this person get here? I completely failed to notice him. He wasn’t saying anything and just staring at the punk near his feet.
“This guy assaulted me and my friends. Please hel-” Thinking that this newcomer might save him, he started to ask for help.
But instead of that, a knee was inserted into his face.
The punk was thrown away to the ground, falling like a ragdoll.
A ragdoll that is foaming from the mouth.
The punk was probably surprised. Because I sure am surprised.
“Hmmm, it looks like someone made a poor life decision by coming to this city.” He sounds more disappointed than anything.
The man crouches down and starts looking through the pockets of the punk he knocked out. Then he pulls out a wallet out of the hoodlums pocket and looks into it.
“Tokyo, huh?” He mutters to himself.
It looks like he’s not paying attention to me.
As I was thinking of leaving, he suddenly turned to me and spoke up.
“Excuse me but could you come with me for a second, there are some questions I want to ask.”
“Why should I? You with the police or something?”
I couldn’t take this guy lightly. He was very dangerous.
“That’s a good point. Then please look at this.” The guy takes out an identification card. It has a name with a red Chrysanthemum Seal underneath...
…
...Oh.
…
…I’m screwed.
…
…Fuck.
“I’m with the Kenpetai, my name is Kanzaki, it’s nice to meet you…”
This is not good.
…
“Suzuki.” I give him my name.
At this point not talking will get me in much bigger trouble than answering Kanzaki’s questions.
“Suzuki, huh. Well, that’s a really boring family name for someone to have.”
I agree.
“Could you come with me for a moment.” He was smiling pleasantly at me, as he put a hand on my shoulder. “There’s someplace I want to show you.”
Still, even if I don’t want to go with this guy, he’s with the Kenpetai, so I need to pick my words carefully. Not doing what he tells me is probably the worst option I have.
...How annoying.
…I can only hope, that this won’t turn into something that will get me sent into a re-education camp.
I can only hope.