The Boy With The Golden Legs
Footsteps echoed in a cold looking room. It was practically dark in there. Takami wasn’t sure why that man liked to keep things dark. But no one questions that man.
No one.
“You asked for me, sir?”
He stood before a huge desk, facing the back of a seat. He could barely see the outline of the man’s head. Without turning to look at Takami, he merely said, “It’s on the desk.”
Takami nodded. He looked at the desk and saw a folder. Picking it up, he browsed through it and read the contents. His eyes grew wide as he read on. “You’re looking for the boy with the golden legs…?” he whispered, before silently cursing at himself. He had forgotten that one rule to never question him. Thankfully, the man merely ignored him.
“They’re not rumours,” he replied. “He exists. And we need him to be a part of us.”
Takami swallowed, not liking the feeling growing within the pits of his stomach. “He won’t be easy to find. According to this data, he’s mostly seen around the dark forests. Our men may be able to infiltrate the forest, but to comb through such a vast, huge area would take us months, years maybe before we can find him.”
“Keep reading,” the man merely instructed.
With a nod, Takami flipped through the pages that had the information on the boy with the golden legs, a rumour being passed around here in this solemnly dead town of Shinryuuji. Traders who come here to sell their goods and pass near the dark forest has claimed to have sighted a boy running as fast as the speed of light, zooming past them. Why he was there, no one was sure. But now this man is interested in him, and Takami knew it wasn’t going to be good.
As he passed the pages, each with a different trader’s view of the boy, and their info on it, he finally reached the last few pages. It was hard to hide the look of surprise on his face. “You’re kidding me…”
“I’m shocked you find this all surprising…” said the man.
“How did you get this information?” cried Takami. “How did you know about this guy?”
“Through my own sources, of course. I then dug up as much as I could about him. I want you to find him and instruct him on what to do as written there.”
Takami swallowed harshly. There were so many things that could go wrong at this point, so many risks. But he was sure that if he were to pursue the matter any further, he would be risking his own head. With a nod and a salute, he left the cold office.
A youth was sitting idly by the side of his truck, resting after a long day of work at the construction. It had been another rough day, what with another person’s house being destroyed by stray weapons from the army. The youth wasn’t too happy with the way Shinryuuji was being handled right now, but there was little to be done, being ruled under this government makes it almost impossible to speak out.
A big, practically round youth, with a chestnut looking head came running towards the other youth. “MUSASHI!” he shouted.
Musashi got up, curious as to why the other youth would be here. “Kurita? What are you doing here?”
Kurita ran up to Musashi before finally stopping before him, gasping for breath. “H-he…”
“He?” pressed Musashi, although instincts were nagging him that he knew exactly what had happened for Kurita to be running here so quickly.
“He’s in trouble!” cried Kurita in one breath, as he tried to gasp for breath.
Musashi cursed a little. “Get in the truck. Tell me where he is.”
Somewhere further down the town, a youth with spiky blonde hair, elf-ish like ears and a demonic feel stood in a dark alleyway and was surrounded by many other youths and men, cheering him on. He was grinning as a man stepped in front of him, with a pistol in his hand. “You seem to enjoy talking like you know everything,” said the man. “Let’s see you finally prove it.”
“Keh, you fucking asked for it,” said the demon looking youth, yet he seemed hesitant to touch the pistol in the man’s hand. He reached out and stopped for a moment before finally clasping his hand on the holder of the gun.
And suddenly he felt like he was whole. The crowd was cheering even louder now, as the youth walked forward, distancing himself with the target behind him. The cheers kept telling him to go back further, and he obliged. He had nothing to worry about, he was sure of it. It may have been a while, but as his hands clasped unto the pistol, he knew he could do it.
Standing right on top of a rotting table was a piece of paper marked with an x, lying against a bottle. A slight breeze threatened to make that paper fly away, but no worries. He’d get it before that happened. He raised the pistol, ignored all the distractions, and just as the light breeze pushed the paper a little further from the bottle, he took a shot.
No one exactly saw how it happened, but before anyone could react, the paper was shot right in the middle where the x was, and the glass was broken. The crowd erupted in a loud cheer. The youth grinned. As he expected, he still had it…
He turned to the man. “Do I get my money now?” he demanded.
The man grunted. “Not yet.”
The youth cursed. “You said that if I could get the target, you’d pay up!”
“The game’s not over yet,” the man replied, turning his back on the youth. He approached the table, holding what appeared to be a thread. He tied one of the legs with the string, and pulled the extra. The youth noticed another man had appeared, cupping both his hands with something inside. Their backs were turned and the youth could see nothing. Until finally they moved away and the youth stared dumbfounded at his new target.
It was a swallow. A small one, flying around frightfully with its leg tightly bound by the string attached to the table. “Shoot that,” said the man. “And you get your reward.”
The youth blinked, trying to process what was going on. Yes, he was sure he could shoot it. Moving targets are tricky, but as long as he keeps his eye on it, he was sure he could do it. Yes, he can do this. Raising the pistol once more, he took an aim. He took note of that one spot he was sure the bird would fly past, noting how restricted its movements were.
His finger on rested on the trigger, his eye straight on the target… it’s now or never…
But images flashed before him. Of screaming, of pain… of mercy to spare someone’s life. The bird’s twittering grew frantic in his ear, and the voices in his head grew louder amongst the cheers of the crowd screaming at him to hurry up and do the deed.
Just pull the trigger… Let it all end now…
“HIRUMA!”
In shock to hear his name, Hiruma pulled the trigger too quickly, and instead shot at the thread holding the bird. It snapped free, causing the bird to fly far into the sky. His eyes followed it, almost envious of the easy freedom the bird had.
But there were more important things to settle at the moment. He turned towards the source of his distraction, and found Kurita running towards him as he had just jumped out of a familiar truck. “Fucking fatty…” he growled.
The earlier man came up to Hiruma first. “Looks like you’ve lost… Now YOU have to pay up.”
Hiruma cursed, but his eyes were still on Kurita, pushing his way through the crowd, careful not to topple over them. Things were bad now… but he merely shrugged it off. “Yeah, I lost since you cheated… but instead of me paying up, let’s make a deal.”
The man was silent for a moment. The other man who had brought the bird went up to him in a state of panic, whispering franticly in his ear. Finally, he said, “You’re about to blackmail me, aren’t you?”
Hiruma grinned. “Ah, so you actually knew who I am?”
“I had a hunch…” said the man. “Got one of my men to do a quick background check on you. You took a big risk coming here then.”
“Keh… not the first, won’t be the last,” Hiruma grinned. “So I’m sure you know about how I shouldn’t have even touched that gun in the first place. And if word were to slip out… especially a man of your ranking…”
The man frowned deeply. He wasn’t happy that he had definitely lost this game, but he had to concede. “Very well then. Get out of here.”
Kurita had finally reached him. “Hiruma! You’re not supposed to be doing this! Musashi and I were so worried about you and-”
“Shut up, Fucking Fatty, it’s over…” said Hiruma, grabbing Kurita’s shirt and walked through the crowd, that had now parted to make way for the both of them. The crowd that was now cheering had now fallen silent, confused by what had just happened. Wasn’t he supposed to pay up or receive some form of punishment?
But without saying a word, Hiruma pushed Kurita to the back of the open truck and sat right next to Musashi, who was glaring angrily back. But he drove off towards the narrow streets, leaving behind the dark alleyway and headed towards the middle of the town. No one said a word as they watched the scenery outside, where everything looked broken. From the buildings to the people, everything felt as though they have gone through years of pain and sorrow. The sky looked gloomier now compared to when he saw the bird flying free. For some reason, the sky looked a lot vaster then. But clouds hung low now, as though it was closing up the sky.
“You were reckless,” Hiruma heard Musashi say. Hiruma did his best to ignore those words, but Musashi continued to pour it down. “There’s a reason why I told you to stay away from that place. I work around, you know, and I hear things.”
“It’s nothing new,” Hiruma replied. “All these fucking soldiers going around acting all high and mighty. Setting up these games for their own entertainment and to challenge the public. Fuck them all. No matter where we go, they’ll be there.”
“That’s no excuse to go on and risk being sent to jail again,” said Musashi. “If word spreads about you handling guns again, you would be back into that wretched place.”
“I might as well go back there, seeing as there’s nothing left for me.”
Musashi braked suddenly, causing Hiruma to hurl forward. Kurita cried out in panic at the sudden brake, rolling a little and hitting the back of where Hiruma and Musashi was. “Fuck, what was that for?!” cried Hiruma.
Musashi glared back at Hiruma. “Stop acting as though your life means nothing! You being banned from handling firearms shouldn’t be seen as a curse!”
“What do you know, you fucking old looking man!” spat Hiruma. “I’ve spent the last 6 years rotting in this stupid town! Merely watching as we ourselves rot in this stupid place! It feels as if everything I do to make this worthless life mean something is being stopped over what I did a long fucking time ago! And you think I’m not cursed?!”
“We’re all cursed!” Musashi cried back. “I have my own sins to bear! And you don’t see me complaining!”
Kurita knocked at the back in his state of panic. “Stop fighting, both of you!” he pleaded.
“You may LIKE what you’re doing but I hate what I’m doing! I hate everything about it! Everything I do amounts to nothing! So fuck off if I do something stupid! It’s my fucking life and I’ll do what I want! If I end up in jail again then so be it!”
“Hirumaaa!” Kurita cried, hearing those words. “Don’t say that! We’re your friends!”
Musashi frowned, feeling anger boiling within him. But he sighed, sticking the gear into place and continued driving. “I can’t say I understand your feelings…” said Musashi. “I know you’re restless, that you feel trapped in this place. But as your friend, I have to look out for you. Both of you,” he jerked his head a little to Kurita’s direction. “We’ve all lost something. We’re all broken. The last thing we need is to be alone. So try to understand, Hiruma… Even if you think your life means nothing, your life does have meaning to me and Kurita.”
Hiruma looked at Musashi, then at Kurita who watched them intently. He frowned, thinking how his outburst was unnecessary. But he knew the feeling of being trapped was still there, and he was restless. Very restless. But the last thing he needed was to be a burden to those around him. Cause he hated to admit it, but he really did need them. “Keh… whatever you say. Just take us to the field and I can play this off. This is pissing me off.”
“We’re gonna play football!” cried Kurita happily.
Musashi drove towards an open field. The ground was uneven, and there were burnt grass and scorches of ash littered all over the field. But it was the few open areas left around and rarely touched by the army. The only football they had was battered and misshapen, but it was all they had and they didn’t mind at all.
Kurita knew he would be perfect for linesman, and even Musashi and Hiruma knew that. But as they were incomplete, all they could do was do a couple of tosses, passing and running. Kurita would always lag behind and Hiruma would scold him incessantly. Musashi was also constantly lagging behind, as he would have spent most of his stamina working. But despite how imperfect the game was, and how it often frustrated Hiruma to the point of wanting to give up the game altogether, throwing those long passes and running across the field had its moments.
Yet in the end, it never felt enough.
Exhausted after all that running and shouting at his two friends, Hiruma fell back on the grass that smelled of fire and looked up to the now purple looking sky. Damn, how he hated looking at it. It was as if to remind him of how small and insignificant his existence means. He was certain he could do so much more, if only those damn restrictions were lifted from him. They were like chains, pulling him down, keeping him glued to this terrible place, as he kept looking up. Hoping somehow, someday, he’d get out of here.
Kurita sat next to Hiruma and Musashi came and sat next to him too. “Hey guys,” said Kurita. “Why don’t you come over to my place today for something to eat? It’s not much, but people have been offering some food to the temple. In these hard times, I guess religion is all these people can turn to now. There’s probably a bit too much food, so really, I don’t mind sharing it with you guys.”
“I’ll pass,” said Musashi. “I’ve earned enough to buy my own food for the next few days. You should go, Hiruma. Get something to keep your strength.”
“Keh,” said Hiruma. “If I’dve shot that bird, I wouldn’t be depending on you guys so much.”
“A bird?” said Kurita. “You were going to shoot a bird?”
Hiruma kept silent for a moment. Eyes still on the sky, he wondered what happened to that bird. More than likely, it would have left to the dark forest. “Yeah, but then you came and butted in.”
Musashi looked at Hiruma, remembering the reason why Hiruma was banned from firearms. “Would you have shot it?”
Hiruma didn’t answer. With a sigh, he got up and said as he grinned, “Guess we’ll never know… Come on. Let’s head back. When night falls, the army would be out and about. I’ll be staying at your place then, Kurita.”
“Sure!” cried Kurita excitedly. The three of them then headed to the truck and Musashi sent them back. Kurita lived near a Buddhist temple and helped out around the place as much as he could. Although offerings were not encouraged, the temple has been receiving more in these hard times where people were losing hope. In an effort to stop the wastage, the extra food was given to the poor and starving, and some would be saved for the temple’s own use.
The monks welcomed Hiruma dryly, knowing who he really is. Not like he cared much, as he was used to such a treatment. Yet Kurita happily invited him to his room and brought what little food he had. Hiruma knew the fatty would eat a lot, so he made sure that Kurita had the most to eat.
Hiruma did find Kurita’s existence annoying at some points. As he ate the bowl of rice in front of him and Kurita ate what looked like five cups in one big bowl, he wondered how did he became friends with this huge yet pretty gentle giant. It was pretty unlike him, but he supposed having a goofy friend like him kept his own thoughts from straying too deeply into his own.
Just as he had finished eating, there was a knock at the door. “Ryokan,” said one of the monks. “There are men in suits outside of the temple. They’re looking for your friend.”
Kurita panicked upon hearing this. He looked at Hiruma, who was shocked by this news. Who could be looking for him? Had he done something wrong? Had that man actually told the authorities about him actually firing a gun? Kurita was shaking now, but Hiruma glared at him to stay calm. Without any words, Hiruma got up and opened the door.
The monk stood a distance from him, not wanting to come near. Kurita rushed to walk behind Hiruma, and they both headed to the front of the temple.
Sure enough, there were two men in suits, and probably more in a van that stood running nearby. Hiruma approached them, but one of them spoke up first. “Are you Hiruma Youichi?”
Hiruma nodded quietly, eyeing them both. They were both youths, probably around his age. The silent one looked tough and if his calculations were right, this youth looks capable of catching and tackling him down if he tried to run. The other looked nice enough, with an idol aura around him, especially since he was tall.
“You’re being requested at the main office in the army,” said the idol looking youth. “Please come with us right now. Resistance would only cause us more… err… trouble…”
The other youth glared back at the idol. “What! It’s my first time to apprehend someone like this! Give me a break! Anyways, resistance is futile. You should know this as it is the army.”
Hiruma continued to glare at them, trying to think if there was any way out of it. Running may cause a danger to the temple, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. Well, if the army wanted to send him to jail then he might as well play along. Musashi would hate him for it, and Kurita would cry like a fucking baby, but he would have to bear with it. Cause they, too, know that it is futile to run from the army. So he nodded at them.
“R-really? You’re not gonna fight back?” the youth gave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I thought that you might pull out one of your tricks at me and cause trouble, which is why Shin is here and…”
“You know about me?” Hiruma finally spoke up.
“Well, not really KNOW you, but we were told of what you might do as you have the tendency to escape actually being caught by the army for petty things.”
“Petty?” Hiruma raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, you know, tricking some shop owners into doing a bet with you so you can gain some cash and such,” the youth shrugged. “Nothing big, but we keep tabs on these things because… you know…”
Hiruma grinned. “I see… you keep tabs on these things to ensure I don’t go beyond your stupid line.”
“Err… what?” the youth scratched his head.
Hiruma ignored him. “Whatever. So why are you arresting me now?”
“Oh no, this isn’t… quite…” the youth fidgeted a little. “Well, you’ll find out if you come with us. Just step into the van. We’ll take you to meet our Colonel.”
“Hiruma!!” Kurita cried, shaking terribly now. “W-where are you going? You’re n-not going to jail now! A-are you?”
The youth named Shin opened the door to the van and prompted Hiruma to step in. Hiruma looked back at Kurita and gave his usual grin. “Fucking fatty,” said Hiruma. “Stop fucking worrying so much. And don’t make that fucking old man worry, too. I’m going.” And with that, Hiruma took a step into the van. He heard Kurita cry out his name as he took a seat among other men who wore sunglasses despite how dark the inside of the van was. Were they hoping to hide their identity from him?
But he was in no mood to question what was happening now. As the other two youths entered the van and began to drive off, he could hear Kurita calling out to him repeatedly, chasing after the van until finally, his voice became distant. And then all Hiruma heard was the humming of the car as it zoomed towards the army’s headquarters.
No one.
“You asked for me, sir?”
He stood before a huge desk, facing the back of a seat. He could barely see the outline of the man’s head. Without turning to look at Takami, he merely said, “It’s on the desk.”
Takami nodded. He looked at the desk and saw a folder. Picking it up, he browsed through it and read the contents. His eyes grew wide as he read on. “You’re looking for the boy with the golden legs…?” he whispered, before silently cursing at himself. He had forgotten that one rule to never question him. Thankfully, the man merely ignored him.
“They’re not rumours,” he replied. “He exists. And we need him to be a part of us.”
Takami swallowed, not liking the feeling growing within the pits of his stomach. “He won’t be easy to find. According to this data, he’s mostly seen around the dark forests. Our men may be able to infiltrate the forest, but to comb through such a vast, huge area would take us months, years maybe before we can find him.”
“Keep reading,” the man merely instructed.
With a nod, Takami flipped through the pages that had the information on the boy with the golden legs, a rumour being passed around here in this solemnly dead town of Shinryuuji. Traders who come here to sell their goods and pass near the dark forest has claimed to have sighted a boy running as fast as the speed of light, zooming past them. Why he was there, no one was sure. But now this man is interested in him, and Takami knew it wasn’t going to be good.
As he passed the pages, each with a different trader’s view of the boy, and their info on it, he finally reached the last few pages. It was hard to hide the look of surprise on his face. “You’re kidding me…”
“I’m shocked you find this all surprising…” said the man.
“How did you get this information?” cried Takami. “How did you know about this guy?”
“Through my own sources, of course. I then dug up as much as I could about him. I want you to find him and instruct him on what to do as written there.”
Takami swallowed harshly. There were so many things that could go wrong at this point, so many risks. But he was sure that if he were to pursue the matter any further, he would be risking his own head. With a nod and a salute, he left the cold office.
A youth was sitting idly by the side of his truck, resting after a long day of work at the construction. It had been another rough day, what with another person’s house being destroyed by stray weapons from the army. The youth wasn’t too happy with the way Shinryuuji was being handled right now, but there was little to be done, being ruled under this government makes it almost impossible to speak out.
A big, practically round youth, with a chestnut looking head came running towards the other youth. “MUSASHI!” he shouted.
Musashi got up, curious as to why the other youth would be here. “Kurita? What are you doing here?”
Kurita ran up to Musashi before finally stopping before him, gasping for breath. “H-he…”
“He?” pressed Musashi, although instincts were nagging him that he knew exactly what had happened for Kurita to be running here so quickly.
“He’s in trouble!” cried Kurita in one breath, as he tried to gasp for breath.
Musashi cursed a little. “Get in the truck. Tell me where he is.”
Somewhere further down the town, a youth with spiky blonde hair, elf-ish like ears and a demonic feel stood in a dark alleyway and was surrounded by many other youths and men, cheering him on. He was grinning as a man stepped in front of him, with a pistol in his hand. “You seem to enjoy talking like you know everything,” said the man. “Let’s see you finally prove it.”
“Keh, you fucking asked for it,” said the demon looking youth, yet he seemed hesitant to touch the pistol in the man’s hand. He reached out and stopped for a moment before finally clasping his hand on the holder of the gun.
And suddenly he felt like he was whole. The crowd was cheering even louder now, as the youth walked forward, distancing himself with the target behind him. The cheers kept telling him to go back further, and he obliged. He had nothing to worry about, he was sure of it. It may have been a while, but as his hands clasped unto the pistol, he knew he could do it.
Standing right on top of a rotting table was a piece of paper marked with an x, lying against a bottle. A slight breeze threatened to make that paper fly away, but no worries. He’d get it before that happened. He raised the pistol, ignored all the distractions, and just as the light breeze pushed the paper a little further from the bottle, he took a shot.
No one exactly saw how it happened, but before anyone could react, the paper was shot right in the middle where the x was, and the glass was broken. The crowd erupted in a loud cheer. The youth grinned. As he expected, he still had it…
He turned to the man. “Do I get my money now?” he demanded.
The man grunted. “Not yet.”
The youth cursed. “You said that if I could get the target, you’d pay up!”
“The game’s not over yet,” the man replied, turning his back on the youth. He approached the table, holding what appeared to be a thread. He tied one of the legs with the string, and pulled the extra. The youth noticed another man had appeared, cupping both his hands with something inside. Their backs were turned and the youth could see nothing. Until finally they moved away and the youth stared dumbfounded at his new target.
It was a swallow. A small one, flying around frightfully with its leg tightly bound by the string attached to the table. “Shoot that,” said the man. “And you get your reward.”
The youth blinked, trying to process what was going on. Yes, he was sure he could shoot it. Moving targets are tricky, but as long as he keeps his eye on it, he was sure he could do it. Yes, he can do this. Raising the pistol once more, he took an aim. He took note of that one spot he was sure the bird would fly past, noting how restricted its movements were.
His finger on rested on the trigger, his eye straight on the target… it’s now or never…
But images flashed before him. Of screaming, of pain… of mercy to spare someone’s life. The bird’s twittering grew frantic in his ear, and the voices in his head grew louder amongst the cheers of the crowd screaming at him to hurry up and do the deed.
Just pull the trigger… Let it all end now…
“HIRUMA!”
In shock to hear his name, Hiruma pulled the trigger too quickly, and instead shot at the thread holding the bird. It snapped free, causing the bird to fly far into the sky. His eyes followed it, almost envious of the easy freedom the bird had.
But there were more important things to settle at the moment. He turned towards the source of his distraction, and found Kurita running towards him as he had just jumped out of a familiar truck. “Fucking fatty…” he growled.
The earlier man came up to Hiruma first. “Looks like you’ve lost… Now YOU have to pay up.”
Hiruma cursed, but his eyes were still on Kurita, pushing his way through the crowd, careful not to topple over them. Things were bad now… but he merely shrugged it off. “Yeah, I lost since you cheated… but instead of me paying up, let’s make a deal.”
The man was silent for a moment. The other man who had brought the bird went up to him in a state of panic, whispering franticly in his ear. Finally, he said, “You’re about to blackmail me, aren’t you?”
Hiruma grinned. “Ah, so you actually knew who I am?”
“I had a hunch…” said the man. “Got one of my men to do a quick background check on you. You took a big risk coming here then.”
“Keh… not the first, won’t be the last,” Hiruma grinned. “So I’m sure you know about how I shouldn’t have even touched that gun in the first place. And if word were to slip out… especially a man of your ranking…”
The man frowned deeply. He wasn’t happy that he had definitely lost this game, but he had to concede. “Very well then. Get out of here.”
Kurita had finally reached him. “Hiruma! You’re not supposed to be doing this! Musashi and I were so worried about you and-”
“Shut up, Fucking Fatty, it’s over…” said Hiruma, grabbing Kurita’s shirt and walked through the crowd, that had now parted to make way for the both of them. The crowd that was now cheering had now fallen silent, confused by what had just happened. Wasn’t he supposed to pay up or receive some form of punishment?
But without saying a word, Hiruma pushed Kurita to the back of the open truck and sat right next to Musashi, who was glaring angrily back. But he drove off towards the narrow streets, leaving behind the dark alleyway and headed towards the middle of the town. No one said a word as they watched the scenery outside, where everything looked broken. From the buildings to the people, everything felt as though they have gone through years of pain and sorrow. The sky looked gloomier now compared to when he saw the bird flying free. For some reason, the sky looked a lot vaster then. But clouds hung low now, as though it was closing up the sky.
“You were reckless,” Hiruma heard Musashi say. Hiruma did his best to ignore those words, but Musashi continued to pour it down. “There’s a reason why I told you to stay away from that place. I work around, you know, and I hear things.”
“It’s nothing new,” Hiruma replied. “All these fucking soldiers going around acting all high and mighty. Setting up these games for their own entertainment and to challenge the public. Fuck them all. No matter where we go, they’ll be there.”
“That’s no excuse to go on and risk being sent to jail again,” said Musashi. “If word spreads about you handling guns again, you would be back into that wretched place.”
“I might as well go back there, seeing as there’s nothing left for me.”
Musashi braked suddenly, causing Hiruma to hurl forward. Kurita cried out in panic at the sudden brake, rolling a little and hitting the back of where Hiruma and Musashi was. “Fuck, what was that for?!” cried Hiruma.
Musashi glared back at Hiruma. “Stop acting as though your life means nothing! You being banned from handling firearms shouldn’t be seen as a curse!”
“What do you know, you fucking old looking man!” spat Hiruma. “I’ve spent the last 6 years rotting in this stupid town! Merely watching as we ourselves rot in this stupid place! It feels as if everything I do to make this worthless life mean something is being stopped over what I did a long fucking time ago! And you think I’m not cursed?!”
“We’re all cursed!” Musashi cried back. “I have my own sins to bear! And you don’t see me complaining!”
Kurita knocked at the back in his state of panic. “Stop fighting, both of you!” he pleaded.
“You may LIKE what you’re doing but I hate what I’m doing! I hate everything about it! Everything I do amounts to nothing! So fuck off if I do something stupid! It’s my fucking life and I’ll do what I want! If I end up in jail again then so be it!”
“Hirumaaa!” Kurita cried, hearing those words. “Don’t say that! We’re your friends!”
Musashi frowned, feeling anger boiling within him. But he sighed, sticking the gear into place and continued driving. “I can’t say I understand your feelings…” said Musashi. “I know you’re restless, that you feel trapped in this place. But as your friend, I have to look out for you. Both of you,” he jerked his head a little to Kurita’s direction. “We’ve all lost something. We’re all broken. The last thing we need is to be alone. So try to understand, Hiruma… Even if you think your life means nothing, your life does have meaning to me and Kurita.”
Hiruma looked at Musashi, then at Kurita who watched them intently. He frowned, thinking how his outburst was unnecessary. But he knew the feeling of being trapped was still there, and he was restless. Very restless. But the last thing he needed was to be a burden to those around him. Cause he hated to admit it, but he really did need them. “Keh… whatever you say. Just take us to the field and I can play this off. This is pissing me off.”
“We’re gonna play football!” cried Kurita happily.
Musashi drove towards an open field. The ground was uneven, and there were burnt grass and scorches of ash littered all over the field. But it was the few open areas left around and rarely touched by the army. The only football they had was battered and misshapen, but it was all they had and they didn’t mind at all.
Kurita knew he would be perfect for linesman, and even Musashi and Hiruma knew that. But as they were incomplete, all they could do was do a couple of tosses, passing and running. Kurita would always lag behind and Hiruma would scold him incessantly. Musashi was also constantly lagging behind, as he would have spent most of his stamina working. But despite how imperfect the game was, and how it often frustrated Hiruma to the point of wanting to give up the game altogether, throwing those long passes and running across the field had its moments.
Yet in the end, it never felt enough.
Exhausted after all that running and shouting at his two friends, Hiruma fell back on the grass that smelled of fire and looked up to the now purple looking sky. Damn, how he hated looking at it. It was as if to remind him of how small and insignificant his existence means. He was certain he could do so much more, if only those damn restrictions were lifted from him. They were like chains, pulling him down, keeping him glued to this terrible place, as he kept looking up. Hoping somehow, someday, he’d get out of here.
Kurita sat next to Hiruma and Musashi came and sat next to him too. “Hey guys,” said Kurita. “Why don’t you come over to my place today for something to eat? It’s not much, but people have been offering some food to the temple. In these hard times, I guess religion is all these people can turn to now. There’s probably a bit too much food, so really, I don’t mind sharing it with you guys.”
“I’ll pass,” said Musashi. “I’ve earned enough to buy my own food for the next few days. You should go, Hiruma. Get something to keep your strength.”
“Keh,” said Hiruma. “If I’dve shot that bird, I wouldn’t be depending on you guys so much.”
“A bird?” said Kurita. “You were going to shoot a bird?”
Hiruma kept silent for a moment. Eyes still on the sky, he wondered what happened to that bird. More than likely, it would have left to the dark forest. “Yeah, but then you came and butted in.”
Musashi looked at Hiruma, remembering the reason why Hiruma was banned from firearms. “Would you have shot it?”
Hiruma didn’t answer. With a sigh, he got up and said as he grinned, “Guess we’ll never know… Come on. Let’s head back. When night falls, the army would be out and about. I’ll be staying at your place then, Kurita.”
“Sure!” cried Kurita excitedly. The three of them then headed to the truck and Musashi sent them back. Kurita lived near a Buddhist temple and helped out around the place as much as he could. Although offerings were not encouraged, the temple has been receiving more in these hard times where people were losing hope. In an effort to stop the wastage, the extra food was given to the poor and starving, and some would be saved for the temple’s own use.
The monks welcomed Hiruma dryly, knowing who he really is. Not like he cared much, as he was used to such a treatment. Yet Kurita happily invited him to his room and brought what little food he had. Hiruma knew the fatty would eat a lot, so he made sure that Kurita had the most to eat.
Hiruma did find Kurita’s existence annoying at some points. As he ate the bowl of rice in front of him and Kurita ate what looked like five cups in one big bowl, he wondered how did he became friends with this huge yet pretty gentle giant. It was pretty unlike him, but he supposed having a goofy friend like him kept his own thoughts from straying too deeply into his own.
Just as he had finished eating, there was a knock at the door. “Ryokan,” said one of the monks. “There are men in suits outside of the temple. They’re looking for your friend.”
Kurita panicked upon hearing this. He looked at Hiruma, who was shocked by this news. Who could be looking for him? Had he done something wrong? Had that man actually told the authorities about him actually firing a gun? Kurita was shaking now, but Hiruma glared at him to stay calm. Without any words, Hiruma got up and opened the door.
The monk stood a distance from him, not wanting to come near. Kurita rushed to walk behind Hiruma, and they both headed to the front of the temple.
Sure enough, there were two men in suits, and probably more in a van that stood running nearby. Hiruma approached them, but one of them spoke up first. “Are you Hiruma Youichi?”
Hiruma nodded quietly, eyeing them both. They were both youths, probably around his age. The silent one looked tough and if his calculations were right, this youth looks capable of catching and tackling him down if he tried to run. The other looked nice enough, with an idol aura around him, especially since he was tall.
“You’re being requested at the main office in the army,” said the idol looking youth. “Please come with us right now. Resistance would only cause us more… err… trouble…”
The other youth glared back at the idol. “What! It’s my first time to apprehend someone like this! Give me a break! Anyways, resistance is futile. You should know this as it is the army.”
Hiruma continued to glare at them, trying to think if there was any way out of it. Running may cause a danger to the temple, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. Well, if the army wanted to send him to jail then he might as well play along. Musashi would hate him for it, and Kurita would cry like a fucking baby, but he would have to bear with it. Cause they, too, know that it is futile to run from the army. So he nodded at them.
“R-really? You’re not gonna fight back?” the youth gave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I thought that you might pull out one of your tricks at me and cause trouble, which is why Shin is here and…”
“You know about me?” Hiruma finally spoke up.
“Well, not really KNOW you, but we were told of what you might do as you have the tendency to escape actually being caught by the army for petty things.”
“Petty?” Hiruma raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, you know, tricking some shop owners into doing a bet with you so you can gain some cash and such,” the youth shrugged. “Nothing big, but we keep tabs on these things because… you know…”
Hiruma grinned. “I see… you keep tabs on these things to ensure I don’t go beyond your stupid line.”
“Err… what?” the youth scratched his head.
Hiruma ignored him. “Whatever. So why are you arresting me now?”
“Oh no, this isn’t… quite…” the youth fidgeted a little. “Well, you’ll find out if you come with us. Just step into the van. We’ll take you to meet our Colonel.”
“Hiruma!!” Kurita cried, shaking terribly now. “W-where are you going? You’re n-not going to jail now! A-are you?”
The youth named Shin opened the door to the van and prompted Hiruma to step in. Hiruma looked back at Kurita and gave his usual grin. “Fucking fatty,” said Hiruma. “Stop fucking worrying so much. And don’t make that fucking old man worry, too. I’m going.” And with that, Hiruma took a step into the van. He heard Kurita cry out his name as he took a seat among other men who wore sunglasses despite how dark the inside of the van was. Were they hoping to hide their identity from him?
But he was in no mood to question what was happening now. As the other two youths entered the van and began to drive off, he could hear Kurita calling out to him repeatedly, chasing after the van until finally, his voice became distant. And then all Hiruma heard was the humming of the car as it zoomed towards the army’s headquarters.