Part III: 非リア充 (The Irregular)
> “New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.”
>
> -Lao Tsu
----------------------------------------
Chapter Nineteen: Technoblade Never Dies
June 26, 2010
There was an odd smell. He couldn’t quite place it. Some kind of incense, maybe.
That was the first thought, quickly followed by more as Trash’s brain reengaged with the world.
The next was sound. There was music coming from somewhere. As he tried to determine where the sound was coming from, the third sensation arrived.
Pain. A jabbing pain in his head. There was more pain in his arm as well. But the pain in his head was evil. Suddenly, he felt like his head was splitting into two.
Awareness and memories flooded back; Pazu yelling something, then reaching out toward him, A hand reaching out and grabbing his arm. Lying in a bed and throwing up into a trash bin, A very bad smell.
Trash opened his eyes. He was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. It was daytime; there was some light peeking through closed curtains. The bits of light evading the curtains activated the pain in his head again.
His head hurt so much. What happened? Oh, right. He fell. He fell off the side of a building like a fool. What was he thinking?
Pazu must be so pissed. He had told Trash not to go out on that ledge. Just like Pazu had predicted, he fell off.
Did he break his neck? Was this the hospital?
Trash tried to move. His head twisted. This brought back the pain again. The pain never really subsided; it’s just with every movement, it got worse.
His arm hurt a lot, too. It was easy to forget with the pain in his head, but it really hurt a lot. That was a good sign, though, right? It meant his neck wasn’t broken. He read that in a comic book once.
Thirsty. He was so thirsty. His throat was so dry, and his tongue was big, and the inside of his mouth tasted nasty. Trash recalled throwing up again, and his stomach rolled, but the nausea was gone.
Won’t the pain stop? Where was he? It didn’t look like a hospital room. Was there some water? His throat was so dry.
He groaned as he tried to look around.
There was a sudden movement in the room. He heard it. It came from the other side, away from the window. It sounded like someone standing up. There was someone in the room. Was it Pazu?
Despite the pain, he kept his eyes open and tried to look over at the noise.
Oh shit!
It was that guy. The African. He was standing at the foot of the bed now. Shit!
What happened? He couldn’t remember things properly. His head hurt. He fell. He must have been knocked out. Maybe worse. Some flashes; he definitely threw up. Was it here? In this bed? He drank something. He was so thirsty now. Why was the African here? What was his name?
Wait, where was he? Was he at… the record store? What was the name… It was a strange name. His head was foggy, except for the pain.
「Here, drink.」
The man… Agbor… yeah, that was his name. It was a strange name, but easy to remember. Agbor was holding a tray with a small plastic cup. Water! Oh, Thank God. Water.
The tray was placed over his legs. Then suddenly, he was sitting up. The tray was one of those breakfast-in-bed things, with legs to hold it over your lap while you ate.
It was hard to concentrate. His head was fuzzy, and the only thing that cut through the haze was the pain, and a few random thoughts.
The plastic cup was at his lips. Water!
Trash greedily swallowed the trickle of water that poured from the cup.
More! His throat was so dry.
「Easy, drink slowly. There is plenty.」
He took another sip. Then swallowed. Slowly, he drank half the cup, one painful sip at a time.
Then the cup pulled away. Trash wanted to protest, but then he looked at the large man who was nursing him.
Why was he here? This didn’t look like a hospital. It was more like an old motel room. A simple small room with a bed and a desk.
「Swallow this.」
The man held a tiny plastic cup. Inside was a large white pill.
What was this? Some kind of a drug? Why? Where was he? Where was Pazu?? What happened?
He was starting to feel more lucid, but nothing was making sense.
Agbor was pushing the small cup to his lips, but Trash resisted. He pursed his lips.
「It’s okay. It’s a painkiller.」
That word crossed his mind like a fireworks explosion.
Painkiller! That’s what he needed.
He opened his lips without thinking about it, and the pill entered his mouth. Then there was more water.
He swallowed the pill. How long would it take? It still hurt so much.
Suddenly he was lying down again, looking at the ceiling.
Was that really a painkiller? Should he have taken it? Hopefully, it works quickly.
----------------------------------------
It was evening when Trash awoke again. This time, he was far more lucid, and Pazu was there. At first, Trash wondered if the episode with the African man was some strange dream.
Pazu confirmed what happened as Trash sat up in the bed. He felt better, but he still had a killer headache, and his shoulder burned. His right arm was in a sling.
「You spun off the ledge like a pinwheel. I was sure you were a dead man. How are you so lucky?」
「Lucky? I don’t feel lucky.」
「Yeah. Well, considering what an idiot you were for trying that stunt, you are lucky you aren’t dead.」
「Yeah… But… What happened?」
「Oh man, it was crazy. You started to fall, and then Agbor saw you and tried to grab you through the window. Then your jacket ripped, and you shot off the ledge and fell like two stories. Hit your head and dislocated your shoulder. You were bouncing off the sides of the buildings, so I guess you didn’t hit too hard. Otherwise, you would have totally broken your neck.」
Trash stared forward as he contemplated that. He just avoided death… caused by his own stupidity.
「Well, after Saki sees what you did to her jacket, you might still be dead. And it won’t be so clean.」
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Oh, shit. The jacket. It was ruined. Trash remembered clearly the sound and sensation of the arm ripping off. It seemed unreal. His treasure was gone.
「It was amazing. Agbor was down to your side in seconds. Before I could even react. Your arm was all messed up, but he just pulled your arm around, and ‘POP!’ It was just fixed! I bet it still hurts, though.」
Trash rubbed his shoulder. It certainly didn’t feel that great. He could still move his arm and hand, so the sling was just to hold everything in place.
The painkillers were working well, so other than the soreness in his arm and, the headache, and the large bump on his head, it appeared that he had indeed gotten off easy.
「I was freaking out, But Agbor just lifted you up, checked you out, and then carried you back up here, like that last big quake, where all the figures I put on the shelves fell off. He just repositioned your limbs and put you back on the shelf.」
Trash really did not appreciate the description, but he could hardly complain. After all, he had been trying to peek into the house when he fell… Why was he even trying to do something like that in the first place?
Oh shit, Danny!
「Was Danny even here?」
「No, well, he was, but he was gone hours before we got here. He’s probably left the country by now.」
Trash closed his eyes as the pain in his head throbbed.
The whole thing had been a waste. The trip to Harajuku, the accident, none of it mattered. He almost killed himself for nothing.
「He met with Hibiki in the afternoon. Seems there were some serious meetings, but I have no idea what that’s about. Anyway, he was here, but then Agbor took him back to the hotel. I’m sure he got another flight out today, so he’s long gone.」
「Let me see my phone.」
Pazu got a strange look and got up to look through Trash’s things.
Apparently, Trash had indeed vomited several times after the light concussion. He was now in Hibiki’s guest room on the second floor, wearing some old pajamas. Pazu had gone back to Akihabara and brought back a change of clothes from his apartment. Luckily all his clean clothes were there in the laundry bag.
His old clothes were in a plastic bag on the floor. In a separate bag, were the remains of Trash’s precious jacket, along with his wallet and other things from his pockets.
Pazu handed Trash his phone.
Shit!
The screen was cracked. The clear protector was still on, but it must have hit something hard at an angle, because there were two cracks underneath the plastic film. One ran through the center of the screen.
The jacket, his phone, the losses continued to pile up. Trash could feel tears threatening to break free from his eyes. He had no idea how to feel anymore. Relieved, angry, lucky, cursed? It was so confusing, and his head still really hurt.
Putting that aside, he turned on the phone to see if he had any messages.
In fact, he had many.
He skipped all the ones that were related to hunts he was currently on, and all the mail magazines and spam. He skimmed, checking for anything from Danny.
Nothing. No DM’s or emails from him in the last day.
Then he looked for some word from Sakamoto. Maybe an explanation for his disappearance last night would be nice.
Again, nothing. No response to the many messages he had sent from the Lotteria.
There was one text message that caught his attention.
[Mr. Landis has returned. Thank you for your assistance. -Harold.]
That was the manager of the Victoria Hotel. So Danny did make it back to the hotel at least.
There was a second message from the same number. It had been received just an hour earlier.
[Mr. Landis’s flight has departed safely. Thank you for your cooperation. Could I trouble you to visit the hotel again? I would like to thank you for your assistance. -Harold]
That was strange. He had done nothing in the end. The man must think that Trash had found Danny and told him to go back to the hotel. Well, anyway, it didn’t matter.
He checked Twitter again. He wanted to see if Danny had posted anything about leaving Tokyo, or anything about what was going on.
He had no DM’s so he looked on Danny’s timeline.
[You’re Blocked]
WTF?
He checked again. He was definitely blocked. Trash logged out of his account, then opened up the webpage and checked Danny’s account.
The account was there, although nothing had been posted publicly for several days.
Danny blocked me.
What was going on?
Trash seethed. All this was for nothing? He had done this just to make sure Danny was okay, and now he was getting ghosted? For what? That didn’t make any sense. Why would Danny be angry with him?
「Are you ok? Do you need another painkiller?」
Trash looked at his friend and he really felt the tears were about to burst out.
He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Then his stomach grumbled.
Pazu stared at him in shock, then they both burst into laughter.
Trash stopped quickly as the pain shot back through his body as he laughed, but the tension in his body had been diffused.
「I’m starving.」
「Yeah, you haven’t eaten since the coffee last night. I’ll ask Agbor if he has anything to nibble on.」
While Pazu ran upstairs, Trash got out of the bed.
He felt a bit dizzy, and his shoulder still burned, but he was surprised that he had come through that fall in such good shape.
Apparently, The Old Goat had made a call and a doctor just showed up and checked him out. The doctor said he had a light concussion, but it wasn’t so bad, so there was no need to go to the hospital unless the symptoms got worse. His arm should be fine in a week or so, but he should avoid straining it for a while, or it might pop out again.
Trash looked at the bag with the jacket. He had no idea what to say to Saki about that. Pazu wasn’t kidding. She would likely kill him for allowing her work to be destroyed like that. Maybe she could fix it, but did he dare ask?
He sat back down on the bed. How did he end up here? He was sleeping in a stranger’s house. That scary bodyguard had nursed him through the night? How did that happen?
He distinctly remembered the large man holding him up and letting him drink from a cup of water in his hands.
Trash shivered. Things had not gone at all the way he had thought they would. In fact, he struggled to think of a single decision he had made in the last few days that had not blown up spectacularly in his face.
Pazu came back into the room with a plate of sandwiches and a couple of bottles of coke.
There were also some apples neatly sliced on the plate. Trash now had an image of that large man, wearing an apron, expertly peeling and slicing the apples into perfect wedges. He felt like his perception of normal was starting to get warped.
The Coke was ice cold, and Trash was surprised that the bottles were not the plastic ones he was expecting, but the old-style glass bottles. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen glass soda bottles. After admiring it for a moment, he carefully held the bottle up against his sore shoulder and felt the cold glass soothe the burning ache in his arm.
「These old bottles are the best, right? I wish they still sold them like this, you know?」
It was heavier, and more wasteful, Trash knew, but holding the still freezing bottle in his hand, he put the bottle to his lips and took a swig.
It definitely tasted better. It was colder. It was better. Why did people always need to improve things by making them worse?
「Yeah. This is nice. Where do you even get these?」Trash put the bottle down so he could pick up a sandwich.
「No idea. I think he actually imports them from overseas. That’s gotta be crazy expensive, right? Glass bottles and all? 」
「Must be nice to be rich…」
「Yeah…」Pazu agreed.
They quickly finished off the food. Trash realized how hungry he had been.
「Hey, sorry, but I gotta go. Saki is kinda pissed I disappeared.」
Pazu looked at Trash guiltily.
「I’ll be back tomorrow.」
「Huh? You’re leaving me here? Alone? Wait, I’ll go with you.」
「You should stay here at least for another night. The Doctor said you need to rest until that bump goes down.」
「But…」 Trash didn’t have a reason, but it seemed so… wrong to stay in this stranger’s house. Especially after he was hurt while sneaking around the windows.
「Don’t worry. It’s Okay. I talked to the Old Goat, and he’s totally fine. He’s not angry or anything. 」
It seemed rude to be still calling Hibiki the “Old Goat,” but Trash couldn’t think of what he should call him. Mr. Horikoshi? Sir Horikoshi?
The idea of spending the night here with the old man and his manservant/maid/nurse was, to put it bluntly, terrifying.
「You can’t leave me here alone…」
「Sorry, but Saki will do horrible things if I don’t go back tonight. I’ll be back first thing in the morning. If you’re feeling better, we’ll go back then, okay?」
「Pazu…」
Trash tried to make sad puppy eyes. This just got a laugh from his friend.
「Yeah, you’re fine if you can make a face like that. Look, I spoke with the Old Goat while you were sleeping. He was very curious about you to be honest.」
Trash looked at Pazu with concern on his face.
「It’s not a bad thing. You have seen this place, right? If he is interested in you, it means something. A lot of people do a lot of things just to get noticed by him. I think you should talk to him.」
Trash shook his head violently, then grasped his forehead with both hands as a wave of pain ricocheted inside his skull.
「Not doing that again…」He moaned weakly.
Cramming the last bit of sandwich in his mouth, Pazu stood up, took the empty plate and his bottle, and walked over to the door.
「Hey, I’m glad you’re okay, really glad, but you need to stop doing crazy stuff like this. Not just the ledge, but the whole shady deal stuff. You were in over your head before you started, and you’re lucky it turned out this well.」
Trash looked away. He wanted to defend himself, but he knew Pazu was right. He had gone about things in the wrong way from the start. Things were pretty bad now, but they could have gone much worse. They still might get worse because of his recklessness and poor decisions.
But what else could he have done?
「Talk to the Old Goat. Presidents and Prime Ministers ask him for advice. He probably knows a thing or two. Even if he is a weirdo.」
It was hard to dispute that. Still, all he could do was stare into the corner of the room.
「But regardless. You can talk to him, or not. Whatever happens, you know I have your back, right?」
Trash looked back at his friend, his best and only true friend.
He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of any words, so he just nodded.
「Seeya tomorrow!」
Trash sat alone in the room for a while. He could hear a few sounds from the street below, but it was so quiet compared to his home next to the train tracks.
Outside was Buya, the antithesis of Akiba. It didn’t feel antagonistic to him, though. The air was clean and felt alive. Different from his home, but vibrant and warm in its own way.
After a while, there was a knock on the door, then Agbor stepped in.
「Mister Hibiki is taking his evening snack and wanted to know if you feel up to joining him.」
Trash almost declined out of habit, but he remembered what Pazu said.
He also thought that “Mister Hibiki” sounded about right for the Old Goat. Maybe he should call him that, at least with Pazu.
「If it’s not a bother. Yes, I would like to thank him, and you, properly, and apologize.」
「Very well, shall we go upstairs?」