5 YEARS EARLIER:
"Hurry up, boy!" a man shouted from downstairs. "Your food's getting cold!"
A young boy squirmed in his bed. He reached over shifting books and pencils out of the way and grabbed his glasses, placing them on his face before letting out a drawn out yawn.
The capital streets would always swarm with pedestrians. Though over the years, he'd gotten used to waking up to the hundreds of voices hammering away at his window.
"Coming, dad!"
Sluggish, he dragged himself out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. The interior of the house was almost pristine. The navy blue curtains complemented the cream-colored walls. The hardwood floor reflected light beaming through the windows. The smell of toasted waffles was in the air. A middle-aged man with dark curly hair sliced butter and spread it along the top of the waffles. He wore an apron over a blue and white uniform that fitted him nicely over his lean build.
"Hurry up and eat, Kenji. I have to go." He said, not bothering to spare his son a glance.
Kenji sat at a round table as his father slid a plate of waffles in his direction.
"There's syrup in the pantry."
His father threw a leftover waffle between his teeth before removing the apron, carelessly tossing it aside and pulling white gloves over his hands.
"And Kenji," he pointed a firm finger in his direction. "Remember to do your chores before your studies. Got it?"
His voice was a bit muffled from the food still in his mouth. The last time Kenji did it vice versa he'd lost track of time and never got around to his chores.
"I've got things covered here."
His father slipped his feet into some heavy boots and opened the door.
"See you when I get back."
He shut the door behind him, leaving Kenji alone in the house. After finishing his breakfast, Kenji then got to work. Since he was already in the kitchen, he started with the dishes. He scrubbed the plates and utensils before setting them aside to dry. He then moved on to the countertop and dining table, wiping them down and removing any lingering crumbs.
He always double-checked his work to ensure everything was spotless. The last time he missed a few places he was forced to endure the wrath of his father's verbal onslaught.
Next, he tidied his room, smoothing his bedsheets to eliminate every imperfection. He picked up his notes and books off the floor that he'd used the night before and carefully organized them onto their designated shelves.
With his chores completed, he would then tackle his studies. Sitting at his desk, he'd read through his book for that day's topic, taking meticulous notes and underlining key points. Afterward, he'd review his notes to commit the information to memory and repeated the process for every chapter.
*****
The moonlight barely cast a glow through Kenji's window as he scribbled away in a notebook. It wasn't as lively outside as it was in the morning, only hearing the faintest of footsteps clattering outside before disappearing into the distance. It was at this time that he could hear the air gently brushing against his window without it being drowned out.
He tapped a rectangular device to his left as it responded immediately to his touch, displaying the time in the form of a 3D hologram.
12:34
'Is he working overtime or something?'
It wasn't out of the ordinary. Capital guards were usually stuck with extra hours, especially if they were stationed on the outskirts.
A knock on the door snatched him out of his thoughts. It wasn't like his dad to be locked out. He made his way to the front door.
He slid a stool in front of the door to look through the peephole. There he saw two men dressed in familiar blue and white uniforms standing on the other side. The lock clicked and the door opened, revealing the boy's confused expression.
"Can I help you?"
"Are you Kenji?" one of the men questioned.
"Uhm, yes?"
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The men glanced at each other as if expecting the other to say something before looking back at Kenji. He wasn't sure what this was about but he got the sense he needed to brace himself. Their expressions were laced with sympathy and after a few seconds, one of them cleared his throat and spoke up.
"There's no easy way to say this but...it's about your father."
"Is he okay?" He felt his heart begin to pick up speed.
"Well you see, he's in the hospital right now."
Kenji stared blankly at the two, unsure if he heard correctly.
"W-what...?"
"A pack of monsters attacked his post," the second guard chimed in to explain. "They said that it'll take some time for him to recover but he'll be forced to retire."
Their voices became muffled, the world around Kenji blurring as his mind struggled to process the news. Events like this were a regular occurrence but he was too naive to think it would happen to his father.
What would happen to them? How would they live moving forward? How much would change?...How much would his father change?
Questions swirled in his mind as the two guards offered to take him to see his father. But he couldn't hear them over the noise in his head.
PRESENT DAY:
By the time Kenji returned to his neighborhood, stars were twinkling in the night sky and activity in the capital had died down. The air was calm, the occasional pedestrian passing him by and retiring to their burgundy brick homes that lined either side as he quietly navigated the familiar streets.
The gentle moon hue cast a soft glow on the pristine houses, accompanied by trimmed plants and vibrant flowers in window boxes.
Nestled within the well-maintained neighborhood lay an aging house that stood as a stark contrast to its surroundings. Withered plants drooped lifelessly in the dry soil. The elements had eaten away at the paint, revealing patches of exposed cracked bricks.
Kenji approached the front door, skipping steps to avoid twisting an ankle on the deteriorating stone. Unlocking the door, he swung it open with a creak that echoed through the home's dark interior. Closing the door behind him he stepped over empty liquor bottles.
The stench of alcohol contaminated the air. The walls, once adored with pristine cream wallpaper, were now peeling and discolored. Tattered curtains dangled in front of a cracked window.
Making his way over to the living room, he passed by dozens of overdue medical bills scattered across a countertop. There also stood a photo of a group of capital guards huddled together wearing goofy grins. Amidst them was a lean man with dark curly hair.
"Dad? I'm home." Kenji announced.
He rounded a corner to find a disheveled man slouched on a dusty old sofa, his belly poking out from underneath his stained shirt. His wild overgrown curly hair seemed like it hadn't seen a comb in ages. His hairy foot was propped up on the small coffee table in front of him as he watched a program on a holographic monitor.
"And where have you been?" his father huffed.
"I was out...I actually passed the exam this time." he replied in a firm tone.
His father dug his untrimmed yellow nails into his thick, unruly beard. Shards of hair and specks of white floated on the sofa as he scratched vigorously.
"Really, now? It doesn't take several days to finish the exam."
He took a swig of the beer in his hand and turned to him, positioning himself so his missing leg wouldn't cause discomfort. The stench of alcohol grew stronger when he faced him. Kenji had gotten so used to the smell that his nose didn't so much as twitch.
"You lyin' to me? You failed that test again, didn't you? Not that I'm surprised."
"No!" Kenji barked, eager to prove him wrong this time. "I 𝘥𝘪𝘥 pass. And I went on a mission too."
His father narrowed his gaze, eying him up and down.
"Show me your rank ID."
Without hesitation, Kenji reached into his back pocket and pulled out his ID, tossing it to him. Upon inspecting it, he began to chuckle to himself, leaving Kenji slightly confused.
"E-rank." He glanced up at Kenji with a disgusted expression. "This a joke? What kind of mission could you have possibly done as an E-rank ranger?"
"Well...I..." Kenji fumbled over his words before attempting to salvage his confidence.
"We went on an escort mission. And not just that, we managed to raid a dungeon infested with vamp-crawlers. Saving a village in the process."
"Vamp-crawlers? Those things are C-tier. So the rangers you were with had to have been at least C-rank or higher."
Kenji opened his mouth but paused. It was his first dungeon raid and not only could he do little to contribute to the team, but he also ran.
"You couldn't even fight them, could you?" he continued, reinforcing his point. "You're party had to fight them for you."
Though he was already swaying, he took another swig from the bottle he had in his hand.
"Rangers like that didn't let you tag along cuz you're buddies. They just felt bad for you."
The old man looked over at a glass casing hung on the wall showcasing a tattered white and blue uniform. One of its pant legs was missing right below the knee.
His eyes shut and jaw clenched, the display case yanking his mind into a haunting memory of the past. He would've burned that uniform long ago had his pride in once serving the capital not interfered.
He shook his head and took another swig, the booze the only thing keeping the trauma at bay.
"A harsh world has no place for liabilities. They're either killed or get others killed."
Kenji wanted to counter his point so desperately...but something deep down agreed with his pessimism. He'd been saved by Yakeru from the forest lurkers, again by a Hanataru guard from a vamp crawler, and again by Fuyumi from the infected.
His inadequacy didn't end there. He was even responsible for the death of two of Vlad's men after failing to stall a single vamp crawler. This would ultimately lead them to abandon him in the dungeon. How many more failures would it take for his friends to do the same?
Reflecting on his past experiences only made him realize just how incompetent he was as a ranger. Kenji remained silent, biting his quivering lip as the gravity of his failures began to weigh on him.
"It wouldn't surprise me if you kept your tail between your legs while everyone else did the heavy lifting," he took his son's silence as confirmation before carelessly flicking Kenji's ID back to him. "Such a pathetic excuse of a son."
Kenji stared at his ID on the floor before hesitantly retrieving it. With nothing else to say, the drunk wordlessly resumed watching his program while his son quietly retired to his room.
He dropped his staff and slipped into his bed sheets. He wanted nothing more than to drift off but his father's words echoing in his head left him restless.