Eddie Yoshio was a boy no one would dare to recognize. At 15 years old, he stood somewhere around 5 foot 8 with a slight masculine build. He wore the darkest of clothes, had the bushiest black hair, and no color within his eyes. His pupils were black, like an endless void. Looking at him would make you think he was whispering, "Never look at me." Whenever Eddie was there, the eeriness would slip into people's minds. And when they realized he existed, the crowd could no longer find him.
A few hours prior, Eddie boarded an international flight to Tokyo. In the midst of his flight, the plane emitted a dim overhead atmosphere, faintly illuminating the boy's face. It helped him gather his thoughts and feelings regarding what had transpired. As the plane trekked along the ground, his will to get up presented to be a bothersome thought. Eddie looked around dazed, seemingly fixated on his thoughts, as the last remaining passengers trickled down the aisle.
After a few brief moments of silence, he rose from his slumber, reaching his fists toward the sky. His mind was numb and empty; a stark contrast with the clarity of now. Eddie could only think of a few basic questions.
My name is Eddie Yoshio. I'm 15 years old and I currently, or at least will, live in Tokyo.
When he had the strength to move, he got out of his seat, grabbed the backpack by its straps, and slumped it over his left shoulder. The boy proceeded to unbuckle the compartment above, reaching out to his luggage bag and dropping it to the ground with a loud THUD. Then, after a few solemn seconds, he lumbered down the aisle in a stupor.
Departing from the gate, Eddie searched for a nearby exit without a sense of direction. The lack of awareness plagued him as he accidentally bumped into a wall. Amongst his other thoughts, he wouldn't dare to think.
What will happen to me now?
With all that went on, he wasn't able to grasp what he was feeling. It was like someone grabbed a large hammer, and smashed through his sanity; spreading it into thousands of shattered pieces. But his sullenness was interrupted by a loud noise from behind. After taking a slight peek, he realized it was nothing.
Probably just my imagination.
Eddie made his way towards the exit, unsure of what lay ahead. He couldn't hope his life would get any better. What happened a few weeks ago was something too painful to look over in full; it was unable to be processed fully. A smack of the gavel in that courtroom and a whirlwind of disputes in the previous months made sure of it.
Finally, he made his way toward the revolving doors.
And the cold wind greeted him with a sharp chill.
He began to remember the feeling of terror that night when the American police officers–in a series of events–decided that he would move back to Japan. Their decision that fateful day led him to Tokyo; where in his eyes, some strict government official would take care of him until he had a viable future.
There were only a few parked cars somewhere in the distance. After walking over, he spotted a middle-aged man in the vicinity wearing a black leather jacket. His oily black hair was slicked back, and his composure was oddly rigid. The man was paying attention to the red line painted along the curbside before slowly turning his head to face the boy. "Eddie Yoshio?" the person called out to him.
This surely marks the end of my freedom.
As he approached with uncertainty, the man reached into the trunk to grab a soda can. After handing it to Eddie, the teen popped it open and took a large gulp. The sweetness of the soda and the sting of the bubbles breathed new life into him. "Thanks for the soda," he said, the fatigue fading from his mind.
"So," the gangster-looking man began, popping a second can of soda open. "My name is Dojima, and I will be your guardian for now." He took another gulp of soda with Eddie following suit. "We'll discuss rules later, but the main rule is not to get in trouble. As long as you stay out of danger, everything will be alright. Got it?" Eddie's demeanor shifted as the gravity of the situation set in again. He nodded slightly. If there was anything to agree on, it would be that.
Eddie's attention went to the run down vehicle Dojima leaned against. "What car is that?" he queried, coming closer to the edge of the road this time. The car seemed old, too old to pass the annual smog check.
"It's not much," Dojima replied, unfazed by the question. "It's almost 50 years old. The seats and seatbelts are worn out, and sure, the paint is a little messed up too. But at least it gets me around." He brushed his large fingers against the trunk of the car. "I know. It looks like it could've seen better days."
Eddie didn't know how to respond to that. His stomach rumbled, breaking the short silence.
What time was it anyway?
Dojima glanced over, indicating that he had heard the sound. "You must have had a long flight. Wanna grab a bite to eat?"
"That's...probably a good idea," Eddie said bashfully, still keeping wary.
"Hop on in and make yourself comfortable." Dojima took the suitcase from the curb and placed it into the trunk.
Eddie slid into the backseat before gazing at the floor of the car, still lost in his fatigue. He absentmindedly placed his soda on the car seat. It then fell over with a slight thud, dripping onto the creme-colored seats. "My bad Dojima, I spilled soda on your seats," Eddie said, poking his head out the car door. He waited for a response, wondering if Dojima would get mad over a simple soda spill.
However, his fears were quelled when Dojima looked up from the back of the car, his face sympathetic, and said, "It's alright. The whole car is already like that."
After rearranging the items in the rear compartment, he took a quick jog toward the driver's seat on the right of the car. Then he went on to pull out his car keys while Eddie powered on a 2030's electronic device known as the Digit II. The old model was old and clunky, but this one was sleek and even provided holographic imagery for its user. Dojima, finally finding his keys, twisted them within the worn-out lock, but the engine did not react. After two more tries, the car hadn't turned on.
He kept turning his keys in frustration. Eddie looked on with curiosity as Dojima became increasingly impatient with his run-down vehicle.
The teenager slid out of the back seat slowly. "Let me help," he offered, wanting to get a move on. "I know a few things about cars from my dad." He moved along towards the front hood of the car and popped it open. "The car was making a low-whining sound." Cautiously with his hands, he then separated the terminal from the car battery, delicately lifting the battery out of its compartment and laying it on the ground beside him. "So now, the battery needs to be replaced."
"If we get a new battery, there isn't gonna be any money for dinner, y'know," Dojima contemplated. He closed the hood with a loud SMACK.
"It's fine," Eddie said passively, neglecting his needs. He didn't care anyway. In his eyes, the car battery was more important.
"Alright then," Dojima agreed. "There's an auto parts shop not far from here. Once we get the battery, we can head to my house." He took the battery with his hefty arms and placed it inside the car for safekeeping.
Then Eddie noticed the red paint along the curbside. "We're in a no-parking zone right now."
"Head to the rear so we can push it," Dojima directed. They got into position and started the long-winded process. They took a considerable amount of time trying to push the car into the parking lot. From time to time, Eddie and Dojima grew exhausted, taking much-needed breaks in between. In an hour or two, they pushed the car nicely into one of the parking spaces before congratulating themselves on a job well done.
"Where is the auto parts shop?" Eddie asked in a tired, worn-out voice. The fatigue was making him collapse at any moment.
"Just follow me," Dojima responded confidently. "I can navigate most of this city with my eyes closed." With that, the two left the car in the parking lot; walking gently alongside each other into the night.
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The Night Napping (II)
"If you ever lived in Japan before, you would understand that the school year starts sometime in mid-April," Dojima informed, passing the time. They continued to shuffle along the dimly lit streets. "The first day of school is tomorrow at Genji Academy."
"Where is Genji?" Eddie inquired. They came across a black cat in their midst. But before the two had a chance to react, it scurried away from their path.
"It's a private school in Ota City," Dojima informed. "But if you're worried about the cost, I'm not the one paying for your school. The government is."
They continued to walk towards the auto parts shop for some time. Passing ramps and roads with only the buzzing street lights guiding their way. Cold air and the eerie silence accompanied them in the midst of darkness. Eventually, they came across thick white lines of paint growing into the lines of a gigantic parking lot.
Ding Dong.
The sound of a bell greeted the two upon their arrival. They then approached a friendly man dressed in uniform. Dojima leaned against the counter while Eddie took a nap on a nearby sofa. "I am looking to buy a Toyota AE86 battery," Dojima stated. "Do you guys have one up for sale?" Intimidated by his look, the cashier whisked his way toward the inventory at the back of the store.
Dojima looked diagonally behind him, noticing Eddie knocked out entirely. He was sitting on one of the couches with his head back straight towards the sky; his mouth agape. "Y'know Eddie, I'm quite tired as well," he resonated, turning back to the register. But then he turned his head again, slowly this time, and noticed something was amiss. Eddie was no longer on the couch. "Eddie!" He began to shout. "It's not funny boy! Y'know what the government may do to us if you decide on running off like that—"
"Are you looking for someone?" asked an odd shallow voice. Dojima spun around to the entrance door right behind him. Eddie was unconsciously slumped over the shoulders of a man neither of them would recognize.
This anonymous figure had a mask darker than black itself, suiting something inkier than the mere shade. In fact, everything identifiable about him was shaded from view. There were gloves instead of hands. A hood instead of a head. And a mask of void instead of a face. His clothes were black, almost as if he was a part of the night itself. It was certainly quite an interesting sight to see a "moving shadow". The figure was rather composed; his body firm, poised, and still unlike Dojima in the opposite end, jumping back and forth.
"If you're a kidnapper, I hope you understand there is nothing valuable about Eddie," Dojima directed. "I can assure you that there are better people to make use of… unless you want his organs." He gave off a weak smile as he took a nearby wheel axle. The last comment was meant to be somewhat humorous.
"I wouldn't need a boy's organs," The man hoarsely began, raising his fists towards his face. "They're undeveloped anyway." He leaped forward at Dojima with astonishing speed, like his feet seemingly lifted off the ground at his will. He threw his fists at Dojima's core while continuing to roll with the punches thrown at him with the metal staff. Eddie still slept on the man's shoulder, unable to act in the ensuing drama.
Dojima rebelled back by deflecting more and more punches as the figure twisted his feet to the all-too-familiar rhythm of the store music. He could throw his feet at all angles from the abdominals to the abdomen. He could have killed Dojima if he wanted to. But a sentimental feeling, some sort of voice, kept him from doing so. The man's thrusts made their way to hurt his unfortunate opponent in significant ways. Even Dojima himself could feel those etching wounds and bruises on his sides, breaking him down, bit by bit. One punch there and another kick there embodied the element of surprise, speed, and stamina used to his advantage. It made the former gangster at the mercy of some guy he couldn't see the face of. It was true suffering.
"Surely, someone like you would be able to oppose a greater threat than this!" the figure staunchly laughed, his fists connecting with Dojima's raw back. "I have my own reasons for needing Eddie!" The figure's right foot shot forward at his opponent's stomach, rendering him immobile. Dojima groaned in agony, feeling his nerves fire up. "And." The figure took a step forward towards the drowsy Dojima. Every word corresponded to every motion. "They." He took another step. "Don't." Dojima looked onward, in agony, the figure's voice rising evermore. "Concern." Dojima's eyes began begging for mercy. The figure knew it as he watched. Inside, the man was sorry for what he was about to do. "You!" The heel of his left foot connected with the hard bone of his bottom jaw. The brawn fell over as a loud snap was heard.
Dojima must have died.
"I believe that is one annoyance taken care of." He moved his shoulder up and down to check if Eddie was still slumped over. On the other hand, there was Dojima lying helpless and immobile on the marble floor. Looking downwards, the masked man almost seemed to cry. "I can't believe there would come a day where I would be fighting you," he whispered in a low voice. Then the man crossed eyes with the cashier, taking notice of his shivering and panicked demeanor. "Call the police, I don't care. I'll beat them all up. Let this tough guy serve as an example." Then he walked away into the parking lot.
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Eddie woke up with the sight of the ground moving rapidly beneath him. There was a smell of the stale night coupled with an oddly familiar feeling.
Where am I?
His sights were pitch black coupled with a few white rocks here and there.
What situation has the world possibly thrown at me now?
As he slowly regained his senses, he realized he was being carried by someone. Was it Dojima perhaps? After a few seconds, much like how he woke up on the plane, the sounds of drowsiness came out of him. But they weren't loud enough for the figure holding him to notice.
He peeked downward a bit more and noticed a dark cloak amidst the figure's complexion. This was noticeably not Dojima. Immediately, his senses kicked in as he slid downwards to where his feet met the ground, bolting in the opposite direction. The figure took notice of his absence, chasing Eddie down. "GET AWAY FROM ME," Eddie screamed into the eerie silence surrounding him. The figure kept on advancing, refusing to stop.
"Oh there's no need to run. You know me very well," the figure answered. He ran in, slicing his fist against Eddie's side, causing the teenager to bend over slowly; clutching his bruised side. If he hadn't sensed the danger before, he definitely felt it then. He tried to pick up speed towards the auto parts shop, knowing very well the figure of shadows was coming in at the speed of light.
So he ran. Eddie ran in a way he had never ran before. He never looked back as his arms wavered at his sides, in tune with his shaking legs.
Still though, something inside of him kept nagging, telling him to fight back against the masked ruffian.
No, I can't fight back. Fighting back got me arrested once…
The brunt of trauma carved Eddie into someone new; someone who would never fight back. Only the flight senses made him run until the figure's palm met with Eddie's shoulder.
A loud, crack! could be heard from his shoulder, his right hand clutching it in pain.
Is it broken? Am I not able to move it anymore?
Eddie's thoughts raced, his running legs having a mind of their own. He could sense the figure aiming for another attack right behind him. Was he… Would he… really let himself be struck down again?
No…
Eddie spun around, facing his target; keeping his shoulders squared, chin raised, looking directly into the overarching darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot a much darker shade of black, hurling toward him. He ducked under. The figure's left arm raised high above him.
I got you now!
Eddie grabbed the arm in a moment's notice, snarling, taking it with both hands and slamming it against his cold mid-thigh. He could hear the sounds of someone wailing in pain.
The damage was done.
Eddie watched the figure laying, twitching, against the cool hard ground. The man clutched his battered arm with his right hand, wallowing in pain, almost like a child. Without mercy, Eddie came in once again to stomp on his bare belly. This time it would be the figure crying deeper in pain; not Eddie. He looked on with deep contempt for whoever decided to ruin the fragile peace of his own world.
But before vengeance got the better of him, the figure dashed away into the darkness, never to be seen again. Then out of the blue, the appearance of blaring sirens and rapid lights overtook Eddie's senses. His world went warm.
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The Night Napping (III)
"Hey!" Dojima shouted. Eddie woke up, looking onward with a hazy vision refusing to focus. "Eddie!" the voice repeated louder this time. He could feel his senses improve as his eyes watered down from the pain of a throbbing popped shoulder. Gradually, he noticed Dojima staring down at him as he lay on the pavement. Around the two, he could make out the sounds of police sirens and cops chattering, speculating about what happened.
In the midst of all the chaos sat a bruised Dojima, and a battered Eddie. To check, Eddie rotated his left shoulder; it was operable for the most part.
"There is something brewing in Tokyo," he overheard one of the officers say. "Every single crime seems to be coordinated these days."
"Group crime," one of the other cops named it. He dusted off his uniform. "Seems to be a new trend. It'll be all over soon. Just you wait." Eddie and Dojima continued to clutch onto their wounds as they were given blankets and escorted to sit somewhere safer than the pavement.
"Dojima, what…just happened?" Eddie asked, still in the shock of recent events.
"I fought a bad guy…" Dojima trailed off. "High five for that I suppose?" He reached for a high five. But Eddie clearly didn't feel like it as he ignored the wavering hand. All he could do was stare at the ground, trying to process the events that occurred. He tried not to black out from the blaring of sirens, and rapid-fire of colors.
"What happened?" asked an officer more decorated than the others. His voice seemed caring to Eddie. But he had this gut feeling, ever since a few months ago, that police weren't as nice as they seemed. "My name is Chief Tohou. Please give a detailed statement of the events which took place here tonight." He pulled out a very thin notepad and began to jot down everything the two spoke of.
Eddie explained everything- from when he was resting on the sofa, to when he fell asleep, to when he fought the cloaked man. Whenever Dojima wanted Eddie to stop revealing a bit too much, he would tap him just a slight bit. However, Eddie ignored the taps. The stubborn boy noticed getting tapped repeatedly when going into detail about how he fought.
"I couldn't identify anything about him," Eddie mentioned once. "He was in all black and everything about him was so hidden and... mysterious. It felt like I was fighting a shadow… something that was not there."
Dojima could only agree with Eddie's profile on the figure. Except this time, he mentioned something very interesting, "While I was down unconscious, I overheard the figure say he couldn't believe he was trying to hurt me," Dojima explained, twisting the words a bit. "It could mean something. Maybe he knows me from somewhere?"
Chief Tohou kept on vigorously writing down the two's testimonies. Then when he was done, he eyed the two, almost confused at their reasoning. "Now, here is something I want to know," the chief began in his low voice. "Why didn't you guys call the police or run?" His voice was starting to gradually rise. "Dojima, you didn't do anything before this dangerous person attacked you. And Eddie, you stopped running and then decided it was a good idea to FIGHT BACK!?!"
I knew these people weren't there to help us.
Something about the environment's demeanor changed for the worse. Suddenly, he felt like a criminal in the midst of interrogation; being asked trick questions he didn't have the answers to. It all added up to what Eddie called "manipulation". But the pair kept calm, realizing if they didn't dodge questions and say wrongful answers, they would be able to head home that night and earn some well-deserved rest.
"You didn't answer my question," the chief was growing noticeably impatient. The two of them looked at each other.
Someone has to say something…
"I'll tell ya why," Dojima answered, right before Eddie opened his mouth. "There's nothing more to it chief. We were scared, we were under a lot of fear. We turned to instincts and we knew we had to do something to protect ourselves and each other. I know it is my responsibility to protect Eddie, and that is why I ran after this eerie person."
He sure is good at convincing people… considering how he looks.
"If you have a problem with me being a good father by rescuing him, that shows a lot about ya as a person chief."
Chief Tohou looked on in silence. Eddie stared at the pavement below; unable to bring himself to speak anymore; his mind was in overdrive, thoughts upon thoughts collapsing in on him at once. "Dojima, you did well on your first day as a father figure," the chief finally complimented. "With this… unexpected situation you found yourselves, you both managed quite well." He shuffled around a bit before he motioned them free with the wave of his hand. "Go home and get some rest. Thank you for your help." He strolled away toward the other officers, leaving the two alone.
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As they arrived at the Dojima residence, they parked alongside its small driveway. Eddie sluggishly gathered his belongings, making his way toward the front porch. The night sky seemed to greet the pair as the cold air overtook their warm senses. Dojima lingered behind as he shut the trunk and locked the car. Eventually, he caught up with Eddie, unlocking the front door.
They went inside as Eddie took in the scene in front of him. There was the living room to his left and the kitchen to his right. He could see a small television set a few meters across from him and a dimly lit hallway leading to a few bedrooms. "Come, follow me," Dojima invited. They walked through the hallway and took a turn into the left bedroom.
The room was certainly less than inviting. Cobwebs plagued the sides and corners of the wall while a set of broken chair legs were shuffled under a table. The bed mattress was sub-par, noticeably teetering back and forth between collapse and perfect stability. "It's a little run down," Dojima reasoned, letting his own gaze move around the space. "But I'm sure you can figure out how to fix it and make it more of your own."
Eddie took a stroll throughout. It was mostly empty but managed to appear dirty the longer he looked. He set aside his backpack and let it slump against a desk leg. "It's really late right now," Dojima pointed out. "Get as much sleep as you can. The first day of school is tomorrow."
He proceeded to exit the room before Eddie stopped him, "What did you not tell the police? I know there were a few details we both didn't share with them."
"Eddie, go to sleep," Dojima commanded, worn out and tired. "Don't worry about it. You have school tomorrow and you're tired, if not exhausted. We can talk about this after we've both rested." He left soon after that.
After Eddie organized his belongings, he took the time to shuffle through his backpack for a water bottle before gulping the contents down. Sweat from the stress protruded from his forehead.
A few moments later, he rested his head on a pillow, staring directly at the ceiling above him. The cold night breeze continued slipping in from the windows, keeping him awake. He continued taking the time to rummage through his thoughts. There was a question circling through his mind. It refused to let up.
Who was that mysterious figure?
It kept running through like a never-ending cycle, along with the many others.
Who even was that guy?
Why did he say he was sorry for hurting Dojima?
Why did this figure even try to kidnap me?
His mind rummaged through the possible answers. But none of them brought the satisfaction he desperately wanted. Eventually, he closed his eyes, letting the night overtake him.