A Long Night (Part 8)
Kyouichi walked slowly, shuffling his feet and kicking at anything in his path. He stopped at a gas station with a green, neon sign reading "Open 24 Hours," and put two red cardboard boxes labeled "Sake" in his pockets. Rummaging through he aisles, he grabbed a pack of gum and headed toward the front. Once there, he set the gum and a pocketful of silver coins on the counter, picked up the gum and walked to the door.
"Keep the change."
Around the block he pulled out the first box, twisted open the plastic white top, and sipped the little spout.
Not too bad.
***
Hiyuu waited until the two red cars turned the block before dropping out of his whispy hiding place, landed in the alleyway behind his building, and walked to the door. He slid his card, opened the door, waved at his wizenly guard, and got into the waiting elevator. The doors closed slowly and Hiyuu studied his stainless steel reflection.
His eyebrows were flat, his shoulders low, his mouth curved down, his eyes tired and unmoving.
I look like my dog just died.
He rolled his eyes and looked at the lights change above the doors.
8...9...10...
He glanced back at his sad reflection and watched him stick out his tongue. He chuckled once, shook his head and smiled brightly at himself.
"See?" No big deal.
But the smile felt weird, sarcastic, and the more Hiyuu thought about bitterly smiling the more his face felt warm and crushed into an ugly grimace.
"Stop." It's not a big deal, it's not anything.
Nothing's changed.
But his face wasn't listening and Hiyuu wanted to be in a cool, private place.
The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid open. Hiyuu stepped into the hallway and, seeing no one, zipped to his door handle at the end of the hall; he quickly unlocked, opened, stepped inside, and shut his door behind him.
The dim, cool silence greeted him kindly.
Hiyuu lifted off the concrete ground and kicked off his shoes. He floated to the nearest corner, braced his arms and legs against each wall and cracked his lower back and shoulders. Pulling off the wall, he bounced a few times, letting the weight stretch his sore muscles while floating aimlessly around his high, vaulted ceiling.
He pulled his shirt off, cracked his knuckles, and lighly jabbed at his dark blue punching bag. It shuddered slightly and emitted a loud creak. Hiyuu frowned, tossed his shirt over the wooden beam to his left, and grasped the three heavy chains where they met. He pushed the chains left and right on the thick metal ring, listening to the screaching groans and clicks.
Hiyuu backflipped slowly towards his black metal cabinet and rummaged through the plastic, tin, and cardboard boxes and bottles. Finding the WD40, Hiyuu spun and glided, upside down, to the thick hook and ring, spraying generously. Finally, he grabbed the ring and tried to lift the bag with only his arms before giving up and lifting the bag easily with his body. The cracked, orange metal that greeted him was dark with oil before he set the bag down again.
Hiyuu shook the bag roughly, and, to his satisfaction, heard nothing but a light, high pitched squeak. After tossing the tin can back onto the top metal shelf and gliding a few feet towards it, Hiyuu paused, smiled, and shot a small blast into the door which slammed shut.
Hiyuu turned back to his ready bag, straightened into stance one and bowed low, before calmly assuming stance two. He sidekicked, ax kicked, back round housed, jabbed, hooked, front kicked, single-shoulder-lunge-number-seventeened, shoved off with his feet, flipped up, and double tiger palmed his 200 lb. punching bag.
The rocks and sand shifted and dropped as his foot, fist, knee-shoulder, palm, and the tips of two index fingers drove at the them, striking behind the obstacle.
through, through, through, through, through
The mantra grew light in his head. It was a familiar place, this thought and his body.
through through through throough
Hiyuu relaxed his muscles and sped his pace, the mantra calmly continuing, taking nearly a second between repitions, then more than a second.
through throuugh through through throuugh through throough
The word melted away, sounding foreign and awkward. The tangent idea filled his mind and he concentrated on this feeling, lucid and steady. The abstract concept finally filled his mind entirely, and Hiyuu only moved when he felt it flowing.
The heavy wooden beam above him creaked and shifted. The echoing thumps and thuds grew in pace until the machine drumming began the hum loudly through the high, open space.
***
"What the hell? Go home to your mommy, you drunk little punk."
"See, now you look like an idiot. Clearly, i'm not little and clearly," Kyouichi looked at his watch while spilling a little of the drink in his hand. "It's four-fucking-thirty. If I have a mother, she's asleep and won't want me stumbling in a disturbing her." Kyouichi pauses to take a small sip that looked like a long gulp. "Hence, I'd rather disturb you."
The thirty-two year old man looked at his friends and rolled hsi eyes. "You guys want to kick the shit out of this smart ass?"
The others laugh, but none so loudly as Kyouichi, who grabbed his knee and spilled a teaspoon more. The seven adult men uncomfortably stop laughing and watched the tipsy youth rise and unsheath his bokken. "I'm sorry, really, but it's just so funny." He lunged poorly at the first man and watch the others circle instinctually. "I was hoping you'd say that to them."
***
Hiyuu's hands were beginning to complain. He reluctantly concentrated on lower hits, only to grow bored of the simple combinations. Time ticked by at some slower pace until finally Hiyuu gave into the loud throbs of pain.
His knuckles were slick with blood and the rest of his body drenched in sweat. He threw the rest of his clothes toward his dirty pile in the furthest corner and dropped into his bathroom.
The water took it's time heating, Hiyuu checking every few seconds. Satisfied, he floated under the steady, warm flow.
Ten minutes later he was finished but the water was too relaxing to abandon.
Hiyuu spun and let the water hit the back of his neck where it was sore, not supposed to be upside down, dumbass, and let the water and his hands draw out the tension
...when a grinning Kyouichi runs a finger across his jaw and gently rubs his nose against Hiyuu's ear, and his hands were holding his back, then only his left hand as the right one circled his hips and dipped past his waist...
Hiyuu jerked his thoughts to a stop, looked down at himself and cursed.
"I need new friends."
***
Kyouichi kicked the unconscious man to his left, stepped on the moaning man's leg in front of him and strolled away from the overturned heap of lesser men. At the curb he pocketed one sake box and took a sip out of the other.
"Thanks guys. Really took the edge off."
***
Hiyuu slams his forehead into his pillow and moans. The yellow world has never been so distracting.
***
Kyouichi trudges down the empty streets, cursing at trashcans and traffic lights. He's vaguely heading home.
***
The next day's light broke shyly over the night's edge and began feeling for available space. Its grasp brightened and stretched, and the shadows followed the lead.
The streets considered gathering many cars. For nearly an hour the street increased and waned its inventory until finally drawing in the completely endless line that would abate shortly after lunch.
The stores took their annoyed employees from the back and soon took their sleepy customers from the front. The busses glide along their reliable humming.
And somewhere two teenage boys yawned sadly in their beds.
"Keep the change."
Around the block he pulled out the first box, twisted open the plastic white top, and sipped the little spout.
Not too bad.
***
Hiyuu waited until the two red cars turned the block before dropping out of his whispy hiding place, landed in the alleyway behind his building, and walked to the door. He slid his card, opened the door, waved at his wizenly guard, and got into the waiting elevator. The doors closed slowly and Hiyuu studied his stainless steel reflection.
His eyebrows were flat, his shoulders low, his mouth curved down, his eyes tired and unmoving.
I look like my dog just died.
He rolled his eyes and looked at the lights change above the doors.
8...9...10...
He glanced back at his sad reflection and watched him stick out his tongue. He chuckled once, shook his head and smiled brightly at himself.
"See?" No big deal.
But the smile felt weird, sarcastic, and the more Hiyuu thought about bitterly smiling the more his face felt warm and crushed into an ugly grimace.
"Stop." It's not a big deal, it's not anything.
Nothing's changed.
But his face wasn't listening and Hiyuu wanted to be in a cool, private place.
The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid open. Hiyuu stepped into the hallway and, seeing no one, zipped to his door handle at the end of the hall; he quickly unlocked, opened, stepped inside, and shut his door behind him.
The dim, cool silence greeted him kindly.
Hiyuu lifted off the concrete ground and kicked off his shoes. He floated to the nearest corner, braced his arms and legs against each wall and cracked his lower back and shoulders. Pulling off the wall, he bounced a few times, letting the weight stretch his sore muscles while floating aimlessly around his high, vaulted ceiling.
He pulled his shirt off, cracked his knuckles, and lighly jabbed at his dark blue punching bag. It shuddered slightly and emitted a loud creak. Hiyuu frowned, tossed his shirt over the wooden beam to his left, and grasped the three heavy chains where they met. He pushed the chains left and right on the thick metal ring, listening to the screaching groans and clicks.
Hiyuu backflipped slowly towards his black metal cabinet and rummaged through the plastic, tin, and cardboard boxes and bottles. Finding the WD40, Hiyuu spun and glided, upside down, to the thick hook and ring, spraying generously. Finally, he grabbed the ring and tried to lift the bag with only his arms before giving up and lifting the bag easily with his body. The cracked, orange metal that greeted him was dark with oil before he set the bag down again.
Hiyuu shook the bag roughly, and, to his satisfaction, heard nothing but a light, high pitched squeak. After tossing the tin can back onto the top metal shelf and gliding a few feet towards it, Hiyuu paused, smiled, and shot a small blast into the door which slammed shut.
Hiyuu turned back to his ready bag, straightened into stance one and bowed low, before calmly assuming stance two. He sidekicked, ax kicked, back round housed, jabbed, hooked, front kicked, single-shoulder-lunge-number-seventeened, shoved off with his feet, flipped up, and double tiger palmed his 200 lb. punching bag.
The rocks and sand shifted and dropped as his foot, fist, knee-shoulder, palm, and the tips of two index fingers drove at the them, striking behind the obstacle.
through, through, through, through, through
The mantra grew light in his head. It was a familiar place, this thought and his body.
through through through throough
Hiyuu relaxed his muscles and sped his pace, the mantra calmly continuing, taking nearly a second between repitions, then more than a second.
through throuugh through through throuugh through throough
The word melted away, sounding foreign and awkward. The tangent idea filled his mind and he concentrated on this feeling, lucid and steady. The abstract concept finally filled his mind entirely, and Hiyuu only moved when he felt it flowing.
The heavy wooden beam above him creaked and shifted. The echoing thumps and thuds grew in pace until the machine drumming began the hum loudly through the high, open space.
***
"What the hell? Go home to your mommy, you drunk little punk."
"See, now you look like an idiot. Clearly, i'm not little and clearly," Kyouichi looked at his watch while spilling a little of the drink in his hand. "It's four-fucking-thirty. If I have a mother, she's asleep and won't want me stumbling in a disturbing her." Kyouichi pauses to take a small sip that looked like a long gulp. "Hence, I'd rather disturb you."
The thirty-two year old man looked at his friends and rolled hsi eyes. "You guys want to kick the shit out of this smart ass?"
The others laugh, but none so loudly as Kyouichi, who grabbed his knee and spilled a teaspoon more. The seven adult men uncomfortably stop laughing and watched the tipsy youth rise and unsheath his bokken. "I'm sorry, really, but it's just so funny." He lunged poorly at the first man and watch the others circle instinctually. "I was hoping you'd say that to them."
***
Hiyuu's hands were beginning to complain. He reluctantly concentrated on lower hits, only to grow bored of the simple combinations. Time ticked by at some slower pace until finally Hiyuu gave into the loud throbs of pain.
His knuckles were slick with blood and the rest of his body drenched in sweat. He threw the rest of his clothes toward his dirty pile in the furthest corner and dropped into his bathroom.
The water took it's time heating, Hiyuu checking every few seconds. Satisfied, he floated under the steady, warm flow.
Ten minutes later he was finished but the water was too relaxing to abandon.
Hiyuu spun and let the water hit the back of his neck where it was sore, not supposed to be upside down, dumbass, and let the water and his hands draw out the tension
...when a grinning Kyouichi runs a finger across his jaw and gently rubs his nose against Hiyuu's ear, and his hands were holding his back, then only his left hand as the right one circled his hips and dipped past his waist...
Hiyuu jerked his thoughts to a stop, looked down at himself and cursed.
"I need new friends."
***
Kyouichi kicked the unconscious man to his left, stepped on the moaning man's leg in front of him and strolled away from the overturned heap of lesser men. At the curb he pocketed one sake box and took a sip out of the other.
"Thanks guys. Really took the edge off."
***
Hiyuu slams his forehead into his pillow and moans. The yellow world has never been so distracting.
***
Kyouichi trudges down the empty streets, cursing at trashcans and traffic lights. He's vaguely heading home.
***
The next day's light broke shyly over the night's edge and began feeling for available space. Its grasp brightened and stretched, and the shadows followed the lead.
The streets considered gathering many cars. For nearly an hour the street increased and waned its inventory until finally drawing in the completely endless line that would abate shortly after lunch.
The stores took their annoyed employees from the back and soon took their sleepy customers from the front. The busses glide along their reliable humming.
And somewhere two teenage boys yawned sadly in their beds.