Akane Nishino is a second-year student at Sakurazaka High School, and she
hates one of her classmates with a burning passion.
The classmate in question has black hair and eyes, forgettable looks, and
bags under his eyes that always make him look tired.
His name is Minoru Kageno. Not only does she hate him, but to make
matters worse, his seat is the one right next to hers.
Kage is Japanese for shadow, and true to his name, Minoru Kageno is as
inconspicuous as a shadow.
He's a C student, he's unremarkable at sports, he isn't in any school clubs,
and although he doesn't have a lot of friends, he has plenty of people he
knows well enough to make small talk with.
He's the kind of average, unremarkable student you could find in any
school in the country.
Akane didn't hate him at first. That wasn't to say she liked him, but she
got along with him about as well as she did with any of her classmates.
The more she interacted with him, though, the more she found that there
was one thing about him that she just couldn't stand.
It was the way he greeted her.
Every morning, the two of them get to school at the last minute possible—
right before the gate is about to close.
And because they always get there at the same time, they always end up
greeting each other.
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Today, as usual, she runs into her least favorite classmate at the school
gate. "Morning, Kageno," Akane says to him.
Minoru replies in the same level tone of voice as always. "Morning,
Nishimura."
It's Nishino, not Nishimura! Akane screams internally. Outwardly,
however, she keeps smiling as she heads for the shoe rack.
They've been in the same class for three months, and every morning since
then, they've had the exact same exchange.
Akane didn't say anything about it for the first month, assuming that he
would eventually notice his mistake, but when Golden Week came and went
and he still hadn't gotten her name right, she eventually decided to correct
him.
She can still remember in vivid detail just how that played out.
"You know, Kageno, my name isn't actually Nishimura."
"Huh?" Minoru blinks repeatedly and looks at her face with a mixture of
confusion and curiosity. "It isn't?"
"No, it's—"
"Wait, hold up. I remember now. You're a Named Character."
"A what?"
Akane cocks her head at the unfamiliar term.
"Never mind. I make sure to memorize the names of all the important
characters, but I guess sometimes I get one wrong."
"Don't worry about it. It happens to everyone."
Minoru bows apologetically, and Akane smiles.
However, his next words cause her to freeze.
"Sorry about that, Nishitani."
Akane clenches her fists, driven by an urge to sink a right straight punch
directly into that idiot's face.
"…It's Nishino."
"…Huh?"
"My name is Nishino."
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The two of them stare at each other. You could cut the silence with a
knife.
Akane doesn't say another word to him for the rest of the day.
Then, the next morning rolls around.
The two of them bump into each other by the gate, just like always.
The night's passage has done a fair bit to quell Akane's rage. After all, it's
not like Minoru meant any harm. There's no sense in getting so worked up
over a mere misremembered name.
She decides to greet him like normal and just forget about what happened
yesterday.
"Morning, Kageno."
"Morning, Nishimura."
You're right back where you started!
Akane wants to scream, but she hides that urge behind a steely smile.
The part that she finds most obnoxious is the way Minoru is acting as
though the conversation they had yesterday didn't even happen.
He's calling her Nishimura just like he always does, and just like always,
he isn't even looking at her.
He does technically turn his eyes her way whenever they greet each other
or chat, but it never feels like he's actually seeing her. His gaze is distant, like
it's focused on something far off in the distance.
More than anything else, that's what really pisses her off.
The name thing is annoying, but it's not that big of a deal.
But the way she never feels like she even enters his gaze? She can't stand
it.
Once she notices that about Minoru, she starts hating his guts.
From then on, Akane starts going out of her way to avoid interacting with
him.
She still greets him each morning, but that's all. He keeps getting her
name wrong, but she doesn't bother correcting him anymore.
She also avoids talking to him whenever possible, despite the fact that
they're seatmates. If she absolutely doesn't have a choice because of
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classwork or something, she keeps any conversations with him short and to
the point.
She would prefer to just ignore him 24/7, but due to her unique
circumstances, she wants to avoid doing anything that will make her stand
out more than she already does.
And boy, does Akane Nishino stand out.
Her dark hair is sleek and elegant, and she's so attractive she draws the
gazes of boys and girls alike.
On top of that, she isn't just a normal high school student. She also works
as an actress.
Her classmates know all about her job, of course. If they found out that
she and Minoru were on poor terms, it could give rise to all sorts of
unfortunate rumors. Better to nip that possibility in the bud.
Akane was a fairly successful child actress, but around the time she
started middle school, she was involved in a scandal and had to temporarily
put her career on hold.
Ever since then, Akane has been forced to hide her true self.
She's had to play the part of the honor student to avoid being hated by her
teachers, as well as the part of the popular girl to avoid being hated by the
other students. She's lived her life trying not to give anyone a reason to resent
her.
And so she's done her utmost not to let that asshole Minoru hate her,
either, nor to let anyone else realize how much she hates him.
Akane isn't a member of any school clubs.
She normally heads straight home when classes end, but on that day, she
has supplementary lessons to attend. She often has to skip class on account of
her job, so those supplementary lessons are the only way she can make up her
attendance.
Akane had some other things to take care of as well, so by the time she
gets out, the sun's already set.
"And my phone's dead, too…," she says with a sigh as she walks through
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the school gate.
She would normally call for her personal chauffeur, but with her phone
being out of juice, that sadly isn't an option.
However, her house is only half an hour away on foot. It's certainly
walkable.
On top of that, it's early summer, so even with the sun being set, the
temperature is still surprisingly pleasant. Akane decides to stretch her legs for
a change.
Now that she thinks about it, it's been a while since she last walked home
from school. The last time was probably the walking bus her class used to do
back when she was in elementary school.
Starting in middle school, her family decided to start sending a car for her
each day.
Because of that, she's kind of excited to head home on her own two feet
for once. She walks down the darkened streets without a worry in her mind.
However, that excitement causes her to let her guard down.
All of a sudden, a shiny black station wagon pulls up beside her, and a
brawny man gets out.
She doesn't notice him until it's too late.
"…Huh?"
The man wraps his thick arm around her neck.
"Ah…"
He squeezes tight. In a few seconds, she's out cold.
The last thing she sees is a familiar-looking black-haired young man
running toward them.
"Urgh…"
When Akane opens her eyes, she finds herself in a dimly lit warehouse.
Her wrists and ankles are bound, and there's a gag shoved in her mouth.
She's still a little out of it. She remembers the black car; she remembers
the man choking her, and…she remembers spotting someone, maybe?
"Mmm! Mmmm!!"
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She tries to call for help, but the gag prevents her from forming any words
or generating any real volume.
"Oh hey, you're up."
She hears a hoarse male voice coming from behind her. She freezes.
"I'd quit struggling if I were you. Unless you wanna get yourself hurt, that
is."
The man looks to be about six foot three, and he isn't just big, either. His
muscles are well-defined, even through his clothes.
There's another man behind him, as well. The two of them must be
working together.
"Don't worry, little missy," the second man says. "We already sent the
ransom note to your folks, and as long as they pay up, you'll be home without
a scratch before you know it."
The big guy smiles evilly. "Gotta say, though, that was pretty careless.
Heiress to Nishino Zaibatsu, walking home alone at night like that? Some bad
men coulda snatched you right up."
He chuckles mockingly and walks over to where Akane is lying collapsed
on the ground.
"Mmmmm!"
Stay away!
Akane tries to scream, but the words won't come out.
She crawls across the ground to try to put some distance between them.
"Whoop. Where you think you're going, little missy?"
The big guy grabs her slender legs and yanks her toward him.
Then, he hoists up her jaw and takes a closer look at her attractive face.
"Damn, girl. No wonder they let you work as an actress."
"Mmm! Mmmm!!"
She shakes her head to try to resist.
When she does, the man slaps her across the cheek.
" !"
"Don't fight it."
Akane can feel the taste of blood fill her mouth. The teardrops that had
been welling up in the corners of her eyes finally start falling.
"Y'know, I hear this ain't your first ride on the kidnapping train."
Twitch.
Akane freezes.
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"It was right when you first started middle school, right? Although last
time, I hear it was a stalker who did it."
The memories she'd tried so hard to forget flood back through her mind.
Her whole body begins trembling.
"Y'know, I totally get how the guy felt. Now, why so scared, kid?"
"…Mmm! Mmmmmmmmmmm!!"
"Give up. No one's comin' to save you."
Akane tries to twist away, but the man uses his muscular arm to pin her
down.
Help!
Then, right as she screams internally, it happens.
Kshhhh!
The sound of glass shattering echoes through the warehouse.
"Who's there?!"
One of the windows is broken.
Moonlight streams in, illuminating the intruder standing atop a pile of
glass shards.
He's wearing a black sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and black work boots,
and he has a black ski mask over his face.
He looks sketchy as hell, dressed all in black like that. At first glance, it
seems clear that he's with the kidnappers.
Clop. Clop. Clop.
His boots click against the floor as he slowly strides toward them.
"Who the hell are you?!" the big guy shouts.
"Who, me? I'm just…a normal old Fancy Hoodlum Slayer."
The Hoodlum Slayer stops to adjust his ski mask. The eye holes were
misaligned.
"What is this, some sorta joke?!"
As the big guy roars, his accomplice sneaks up behind the Hoodlum
Slayer and swings a bat at him.
It's the perfect surprise attack—yet the Hoodlum Slayer dodges it like he
has eyes in the back of his head.
"Huh?!"
"You cast a shadow in the moonlight. You're a rank amateur."
With that, the Hoodlum Slayer whirls around and slams his fist into the
second man.
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Between his black clothes and the dark warehouse, his attack is nigh
impossible to see.
There's a muffled sound, and the accomplice crumples from the knees
down. He doesn't move another inch.
"That jaw strike… This guy knows what he's doing." The big guy lets go
of Akane and rises to his feet. He cracks his neck as he glares at the Hoodlum
Slayer. "Too bad for you, though—I'm ex-military."
He draws a knife and holds it at the ready.
The Hoodlum Slayer lowers his center of gravity and stands at the ready
as well. "A military man, huh? Perfect. I've always wanted to try fighting a
soldier."
The two men square off in the darkness.
They close the gap bit by tiny bit, and then—
"Die!"
The kidnapper makes the first move.
Using an oblique stance, he steps in and swings his knife.
It's easy to believe that he used to be a soldier. Despite his bulky frame,
his movements are nimble and efficient.
The knife strike is aimed at his foe's throat, and the Hoodlum Slayer
attempts to block it by raising his right arm.
A loud, metallic clang rings out.
"What?!"
The knife is caught on the Hoodlum Slayer's hand.
On closer inspection, the Hoodlum Slayer is holding something—a black
crowbar.
And what's more, he's wielding it almost like a tonfa.
"A-a crowbar?!"
"Crowbars are great. They're sturdy enough not to break, you can buy
'em anywhere, they're portable, you can talk your way out of having one if
the police question you… At least, you probably can. But best of all, you can
use 'em like tonfas."
"What?!"
In the blink of an eye, the Hoodlum Slayer spins his arm under the
kidnapper's.
His crowbar draws an arc through the air and smashes into the other
man's arm.
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The knife tumbles from the kidnapper's hand.
"Shit—"
Not a moment later, the crowbar makes for the kidnapper himself.
The big guy responds immediately by putting up his fists and countering.
The crowbar slams into his beefy muscles, and his punch grazes the
Hoodlum Slayer's ski mask.
Crowbar and fist clash again and again in the moonlit warehouse.
However, the Hoodlum Slayer is gradually getting pushed back. Each
time he blocks the kidnapper's heavy punches, he has to fall back one step,
then another.
"Heh. That's one hell of a handicap you're working with," the big guy
says as he sends the Hoodlum Slayer reeling yet again. "You're tough, sure.
And I can tell you've been in a couple fights. But you've got one big
weakness. You're, what, five seven, maybe one hundred and thirty pounds?
But see, me, I'm six three and two hundred and fifty. Physically, we aren't
even in the same league. Crowbar or not, all I've gotta do is protect my head.
But you? A single one of my punches anywhere would put you on the floor."
The man's voice rings with confidence. The Hoodlum Slayer quietly fixes
his gaze on him. "You're right. The sad truth is, the way I am now, even an
ex-soldier can give me trouble…"
"You wanna throw in the towel?"
"Nah… It just means I'm gonna have to get serious."
The Hoodlum Slayer adjusts his stance.
"What?"
"The way I saw it, crowbars had a bright future. The tonfa-like shape, the
weight, the sturdiness, the portability…they were full of potential just waiting
to be unlocked. So I went out, night after night, and as I beat up all sorts of
obnoxious, motorcycle-riding delinquents, I arrived at a conclusion…"
"No way! You're the Ski Mask Berserker who's been terrorizing the local
motorcycle gangs with nothing but a crowbar?!"
It's practically a legend how all the motorcycle gangs in the area have
started actually wearing helmets on account of the Ski Mask Berserker.
Wearing a helmet is the only way to stay safe when you don't know when an
attack might be coming.
"See, the conclusion I reached after beating up those motorcycle gangs is
that while you can use crowbars like tonfas…the best thing to do with 'em is
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just whack people!"
The Hoodlum Slayer brings his crowbar crashing down toward his
opponent's face.
It's a big swing, but the motion is fast as hell, and it's brimming with
pure, unbridled violence.
The kidnapper brings his arm up to protect his head, but when he does, a
dull noise sounds out.
"Rrgh! M-my arm…," he moans, clutching his arm in pain.
"It's probably broken. See, the trick to unlocking a crowbar's potential is
to strike with the outside of the part that bends to the side. You'd think that
hitting with the pointy bit would be best, but that's an amateur's mistake."
He shifts his grip as he explains. Not like this, like this.
Then, he strikes the kidnapper again.
He hits him with flowing movements, like it's the most natural thing in
the world. The kidnapper catches a brief glimpse of who he really is—at the
man who beat up hundreds of bikers.
"Agh! W-wait, hold on—"
Wham, wham.
"C-cut it out, we can—"
Wham, wham, wham.
"Geh… Guhhh…"
Wham, wham, wham, wham!
The dull noise echoes through the warehouse on repeat.
Violence is power, and the Hoodlum Slayer the embodiment of that ideal.
He keeps single-mindedly bringing his crowbar down, and eventually, the
burly kidnapper stops moving.
Drops of blood drip from the crowbar. Drip. Drip.
"It's no good. How am I supposed to get there if I struggle against some
lowly ex-soldier? I need to become stronger."
He looks up at the moon hanging in the sky outside the window—
"I need more power…"
—and wistfully extends his hand.
It's like he's trying to grasp hold of the moon, even though his hand will
never reach it.
He shakes his head in an act of rebellion against that simple truth, then
turns and fixes his gaze on Akane.
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He picks up the knife the man dropped and approaches her.
"Mmm—MMMMM!"
Akane senses she's in danger and tries to flee, but there's nowhere to run.
The knife comes down on her with merciless efficiency.
"Mmm?"
It slices through the restraints on her wrists and ankles.
Now that she's free, she looks up at the sketchy man in black with the ski
mask and the crowbar.
He looks down at her in turn—
"From now on, be more careful on your way home."
—and offers her a piece of advice before leaving.
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Akane watches him go in blank amazement. After a little while, she
finally realizes that he just saved her.
"Fancy Hoodlum Slayer… Who are you…?"
For some reason, his voice sounded strangely familiar.
The next day, despite her parents' concerns, Akane heads to school like
always.
Thinking about what happened yesterday still fills her with fear, but for
some reason, remembering the Fancy Hoodlum Slayer makes her want to
break out laughing.
"Heh-heh… He was so dorky."
She walks through the gate and, as usual, runs into her least favorite
classmate. "Morning, Kageno."
"Morning, Nishino."
"…Huh?"
Akane is so surprised, she forgets to keep walking.
Minoru got her name right. And what's more, she gets the feeling that
he's actually looking at her this time.
But that's not all. There's something about his voice.
"…There's no way."
She shakes her head to banish that ridiculous thought, then chases after
Minoru.
"Kageno, wait up!"
She wants to give chatting with him another go.