The plane ride was bumpy and noisy, but that was mostly because Kurayami was hiding in the luggage area - not exactly first-class accommodations. But it was perfect for one main reason: luggage.
Kurayami was a nine-year-old runaway kid. He barely had 5,000 yen (around 30€-$32) to his name. All his clothes were stolen, his supplies pilfered from convenience stores and households. What was he supposed to do? He was out of options, out of resources.
Survival came before morals.As the plane rumbled through the air, Kurayami moved stealthily among the piles of suitcases and duffel bags. He kept low, his movements silent, his breathing controlled.
One by one, he carefully opened the zippers, scanning the contents with a practiced eye. He took what he needed - a few more shirts, an extra pair of jeans, socks and underwear. He didn't take everything from one bag; that would be too obvious. Instead, he spread his thefts out, taking a little from here, a little from there.
He tried not to think about the people these bags belonged to. It was easier that way, easier to justify his actions as pure necessity. These were just faceless strangers. He would never have to see the disappointment or anger in their eyes.
As he rifled through one particularly large suitcase, his fingers brushed against something hard and smooth. Frowning, he dug deeper, his breath catching in his throat as he pulled out an iPad, its sleek surface gleaming in the dim light.
"Jackpot," Kurayami whispered, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and guilt.
He knew he shouldn't take it. An iPad was hardly a necessity, after all. But his fingers seemed to move of their own accord, gathering up the charger, the keyboard case, the stylus pen. This was a prize too good to pass up. After all, Kurayami was a skilled hacker - one of the best, according to his tutors in the Yakuza. With this iPad, he could do so much, access so many systems, gather information and resources to aid his survival.
The guilt tried to claw its way back, whispering that he was no better than a common thief. But Kurayami pushed it aside. He was a survivor first and foremost. Morals were a luxury he could no longer afford or never,really.
Tucking the iPad securely into his duffle bag, Kurayami moved on, searching for any other useful items hidden among the luggage. He had to be prepared for anything in Fukuoka. He had to be ready to fight, to run, to disappear.
Because one thing was certain: he would do whatever it took to stay alive, to stay free from the Yakuza's clutches. No matter what it cost him, no matter how many lines he had to cross.
In this world, it was the survivors who made the rules. And Kurayami intended to be the last one standing.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
One and a half hours later, the airplane's wheels screeched against the tarmac. As the roar of the engines diminished to a low rumble, Kurayami became acutely aware of the throbbing pain in his temples. The cacophony of the flight had taken its toll, but it was a necessary evil. He had managed to secure not only additional supplies but also a 'luxury item' that would take his hacking to a whole new level.
As the initial relief of landing faded, a new dilemma emerged from the shadows of his mind. While sneaking into the cargo hold had been relatively straightforward, escaping posed a far more complex challenge. He couldn't simply waltz out before the ground crew opened the cargo doors, and this particular aircraft model lacked any access to the passenger area, ruling out the possibility of blending in with regular travelers.
Kurayami's mind raced, considering and discarding various escape scenarios. He might have to resort to the same tactic he used to board, but the idea of repeating the trick gnawed at him. It could raise suspicions. Then again, the staff at Nagoya airport had lost track of Mayhem – it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that they might believe the cat had simply snuck into the cargo hold on its own.
Turning to his feline companion, Kurayami's voice was low and urgent.
"Alright, Mayhem, here's the plan. We'll need another distraction, just like before. Remember how you caused chaos at the Temple? Do something similar – surprise them, get them to chase you. That'll be my cue to slip out." He paused, his brow furrowing. "But you'll need to come back quickly to teleport our supplies. I can't risk carrying them; they'd slow me down too much. Can you handle that?"
Mayhem's gaze met Kurayami's, those eerily intelligent eyes seeming to absorb every word. Not for the first time, Kurayami found himself pondering his more outlandish theories about his companion. The more time he spent with Mayhem, the more plausible the 'spy' theory became. He shook his head vigorously, as if the physical action could dislodge such fanciful notions. He might be a kid with an overactive imagination, but he couldn't afford to let it warp his perception of reality – no matter how appealing that alternate reality might be.
"Listen," Kurayami continued, his voice tight with concern, "whatever you do, don't let them catch you. And letting them see your quirk is absolutely out of the question. Quirked animals are incredibly rare as it is, but yours... yours is one of the rarest types out there."
Mayhem responded with a loud, almost indignant meow. The cat's body language screamed offense at the mere suggestion it might be captured. After all, Mayhem had survived for years on the streets of Kyoto. Fukuoka would be no different.
"I know, I know," Kurayami said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the gravity of the situation. "It's just... you saw how the Shie Hassaikai reacted when they witnessed your quirk. They completely forgot about me, which I'm grateful for, but they weren't wrong. People in the black market would go absolutely insane over you."
Mayhem mewed again, softer this time. The cat padded over to Kurayami and rubbed against his lap, a soothing purr rumbling from its small body. It was Mayhem's way of comforting his worried friend, a feline reassurance that everything would be fine.
As Kurayami absently stroked Mayhem's fur, his mind drifted to the world beyond the cargo hold. A world where quirks had reshaped society, where the extraordinary had become ordinary, and yet where a quirked animal could still cause such a stir. He thought about the 'luxury item' nestled among their supplies, and how it represented both opportunity and risk in this quirk-dominated society.
The low hum of the idling engines reminded Kurayami that their window of opportunity was rapidly approaching. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "Alright, Mayhem," he whispered, "it's showtime."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The bustling streets of Fukuoka welcomed Kurayami and Mayhem with a cacophony of sounds, sights, and smells. After their daring escape from the airport – which had involved Mayhem causing a commotion by knocking over a stack of luggage and Kurayami slipping away in the ensuing chaos – they found themselves in the heart of Japan's sixth-largest city.
Kurayami's eyes darted around, taking in every detail. The towering skyscrapers of Tenjin, the city's downtown area, loomed above them, their glass facades reflecting the afternoon sun. Despite his wariness, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. This was his first time in Fukuoka, and the city pulsed with an energy that was both familiar and foreign.
"Well, Mayhem," he murmured to the cat perched on his shoulder, "we made it. Now, let's see what this place has to offer."
They began their exploration in Canal City Hakata, a massive shopping and entertainment complex. The open-air design, with its winding canal and futuristic architecture, left Kurayami momentarily awestruck. He watched as children played near the water features, their laughter mingling with the ambient noise of the mall.
As they wandered, Kurayami's keen eyes picked up on the subtle signs of quirk usage around him. A woman using telekinesis to juggle her shopping bags, a street performer breathing fire for a captivated audience, a child hovering a few inches off the ground as his parents tried to coax him down.
"It's not so different from Kyoto," Kurayami mused aloud, "but there's something... I don't know, more relaxed about it here."
Mayhem meowed in agreement, his tails swishing back and forth as he observed their surroundings.
He decided that their next stop would be the Fukuoka Castle Ruins. As they walked through the city, Kurayami noticed the difference in the urban rhythm. While not as hectic as Tokyo, Fukuoka still had a lively, bustling energy that contrasted with Kyoto's more serene atmosphere.
The mix of modern buildings and historical sites reminded him of Kyoto, but with a distinctly more contemporary feel. As much as he appreciated the vibrant culture here, a part of him yearned for the quiet, traditional streets of Kyoto.
Thirty minutes later they found themselves staring at the old grand ruins. As they walked through the remnants of the once-mighty fortress, Kurayami found himself imagining what it must have looked like in its prime. The stone walls and cherry blossom trees painted a picture of a Japan long past, a stark contrast to the modern city that surrounded it.
"You know, Mayhem," Kurayami said softly, "sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to live in a time before quirks. Would life have been simpler? Or just... different?"
The cat offered no response beyond a gentle purr, but Kurayami felt comforted nonetheless.
As they sat there, surrounded by the remnants of ancient Japan, Kurayami's mind wandered further into the past. He imagined proud samurai warriors patrolling these very grounds, their katanas glinting in the sunlight. In his mind's eye, he saw noble lords in elaborate kimonos discussing matters of state, their voices echoing through grand wooden halls that no longer existed.
He pictured an emperor, resplendent in gold-threaded robes, gazing out over his domain from the castle's highest tower. How different would their concerns have been, Kurayami wondered, in a world where the greatest powers were political and military, rather than the genetic lottery of quirks?
"Think about it, Mayhem," he mused, absently stroking the cat's fur. "Back then, a person's worth was measured by their skills, their honor, their dedication. Not by whether they could shoot lasers from their eyes or lift a car with their mind."
He plucked a fallen cherry blossom from the ground, twirling it between his fingers. "But then again, maybe it wasn't all that different. People have always found ways to categorize and divide themselves. Quirks are just the latest method."
Kurayami's thoughts shifted to the legendary ninja and samurai of old Japan. In a way, weren't they the precursors to modern heroes? The samurai, with their strict code of honor and dedication to protecting the weak, mirrored the ideals of today's top pro heroes. And the ninja, operating in the shadows, using specialized skills and tools to achieve their goals, bore a striking resemblance to underground heroes and perhaps even vigilantes. He couldn't help but draw parallels between their stealth techniques and his own need for secrecy.
"Maybe things haven't changed as much as we think," Kurayami mused aloud to Mayhem. "The methods and powers might be different, but the roles remain. Protectors, peacekeepers, and those who work in the shadows for what they believe is right."
He thought about his own situation - a young boy with a unique set of skills, operating outside the law. In another era, might he have been a young ninja-in-training? The idea brought a wry smile to his face. At least Ninja didn't have to worry about quirk registration laws.
"I bet you would have made an excellent ninja cat," he chuckled, glancing at Mayhem. "Silent, agile, and far too clever for your own good."
As the breeze rustled through the cherry blossoms, carrying with it the faint scent of the sea, Kurayami felt a strange mix of nostalgia for a time he'd never known and appreciation for the world he lived in now. Yes, quirks had changed everything, bringing new challenges and dangers. But they'd also opened up possibilities that the samurai and emperors of old could never have dreamed of.
"I guess every era has its own kind of magic," he concluded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ours just happens to be a bit more... literal."
With a small sigh, Kurayami stood up, brushing off his clothes. The past was interesting to ponder, but it was the present – and the future – that demanded his attention now. As they prepared to leave the castle ruins, he took one last look around, silently thanking the ghosts of the past for their brief moment of peace.
As the afternoon wore on, they made their way to Ohori Park. The large central lake, ringed by walking paths and lush greenery, provided a welcome respite from the urban landscape. Kurayami found a quiet spot under a tree and settled down, allowing Mayhem to stretch out beside him.
He pulled out his new 'luxury item' – a state-of-the-art tablet he'd managed to procure. With quick, practiced movements, he began to set up additional security measures and establish secure connections. As he worked, his mind wandered to the future. What would their next move be? How long could they stay in Fukuoka before needing to move on?
The sun began to set, painting the sky in vibrant hues of dark blue, purple, and orange. Kurayami packed up his equipment, a small frown creasing his forehead. "We should find somewhere to spend the night," he told Mayhem. "Preferably somewhere off the grid."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Over the course of the next few months, Kurayami and Mayhem had explored the most touristic sights of Fukuoka, blending in with the crowds while remaining vigilant. Of course, with Kurayami's well-honed paranoia, he always made sure to hack the cameras and keep off the grid. After all, he didn't want the Shie Hassaikai on their tail so soon. He knew he couldn't stay in Fukuoka for long and would eventually need to move on to his next destination, but he still had some time until then.
During the day, they explored the city, visiting museums and historical sites. The Fukuoka Asian Art Museum fascinated Kurayami with its diverse collection of contemporary Asian art. He found himself particularly drawn to the pieces that seemed to comment on the impact of quirks on society, wondering how artists from different countries interpreted this global phenomenon.
They spent another afternoon at the Fukuoka Castle Ruins, where Kurayami imagined once again samurai and ninja of old, drawing parallels between their world and his own. The Kushida Shrine provided a moment of tranquility, its serene atmosphere a stark contrast to the bustling city around it. Even Mayhem seemed to appreciate the calm, curling up contentedly in a patch of sunlight while Kurayami pondered their next move.
The Fukuoka Tower offered a breathtaking view of the city, though Kurayami was more interested in the tower's advanced security systems than the vista. He made mental notes, always thinking about how to improve his own methods of staying undetected.
At night, when the tourists retreated to their hotels and the city's pulse slowed, Kurayami and Mayhem embarked on what he euphemistically called "shopping" expeditions. He had to eat, and so did Mayhem. So he pushed thoughts of guilt aside, justifying his actions as necessary for survival.
These nighttime forays were carefully planned. Kurayami would spend hours studying security systems, camera placements, and patrol routes. He took pride in his ability to slip in and out undetected, taking only what they needed. It wasn't just about the food or supplies; these excursions were a test of his skills, a way to stay sharp in a world that wouldn't hesitate to hunt him down if given the chance.
Most importantly, these excursions were also a form of intensive training. Losing half his sight had affected his depth perception to a significant degree, not to mention it impacted his balance and created an obvious blind spot. So he trained his other senses, specifically his hearing, to compensate for his left eye. His instincts had always been top-notch, but now he needed them to be better, sharper.
In the quiet of the night, Kurayami would close his good eye, forcing himself to navigate by sound and instinct alone. He practiced detecting the faintest sounds - from the quiet shuffling of distant footsteps to the barely audible hum of electronic devices. He learned to interpret echoes off walls to gauge the size and shape of spaces, and trained himself to feel subtle vibrations through the floor that might signal someone's approach. Kurayami even worked on identifying different scents, knowing that in some situations, smell could provide crucial information about his surroundings or potential threats. Each successful maneuver was a small victory, each misstep a lesson learned.
Mayhem played a crucial role in this training, though not in ways one might expect from a typical pet. The cat's exceptional hearing and night vision made him an ideal guard. Kurayami learned to interpret Mayhem's subtle reactions - a sudden ear twitch, a tail flick, or an abrupt change in posture - as warnings of approaching danger or opportunities to move. It wasn't about following the cat's lead directly but rather using Mayhem's acute senses as an extension of his own. Kurayami would often place Mayhem on his shoulder or nearby, relying on the cat's reactions to alert him to things his human senses might miss. Together, they formed an unlikely but effective team, moving through the shadows with a synchronicity that seemed almost supernatural.
Kurayami also worked on strengthening his right side to compensate for the imbalance. He developed new techniques, adapting his fighting style to protect his vulnerable left side while maximizing the efficiency of his right. Hours were spent in secluded areas, practicing moves until they became second nature, his body adjusting to its new limitations and possibilities.
As the weeks passed, Kurayami found himself becoming more attuned to his surroundings. Sounds he once would have ignored now carried valuable information. The city itself became a map of sensory input, each street corner, each building, each passerby telling a story his trained senses could read.
It was a grueling process, filled with frustration and setbacks. There were nights when Kurayami wanted to scream in anger at his perceived weakness. But with each small improvement, each obstacle overcome, he felt a fierce pride. He was adapting, evolving, and becoming stronger in ways he never would have imagined before his injury.
"We're getting better at this, aren't we, Mayhem?" he whispered one night, after successfully navigating the tricky maze of the Amusement Park completely blind. The cat's purr of agreement was all the confirmation he needed. In this dangerous new reality, they inhabited, every bit of improvement could mean the difference between freedom and capture, between life and death.
Despite the constant undercurrent of vigilance, Kurayami found himself enjoying parts of their stay in Fukuoka. The city's famous yatai (food stalls) were a particular highlight. Under the cover of darkness, he would sometimes treat himself and Mayhem to local delicacies, savoring the flavors of a normal life he could never fully embrace.
As their third month in Fukuoka drew to a close, Kurayami felt a familiar restlessness creeping in. It was almost time to move on. He began to research their next potential destination, weighing factors like distance, population density, and the presence of hero agencies.
"What do you think, Mayhem?" he asked one evening, scrolling through information on his tablet. "Should we head north to Sapporo? Or maybe try our luck in one of the smaller cities?"
Mayhem's only response was a soft meow, but it was enough to make Kurayami smile. Whatever they decided, wherever they went, at least they were in it together.
"Summer is coming up, perhaps we could go somewhere more 'tropical'? what do you think? we could go to the Amami islands or even Okinawa"
Mayhem's ear twitched when he heard Okinawa, lifting his head and swishing happily his two tails. Even before his training, he would easily understand Mayhem.
"Okinawa it is... I'll start planning, hopefully, we will be leaving Fukuoka by the end of the month"
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light filtering through the scattered clouds. Stars danced in the dark veil of the night, their brilliance occasionally obscured by the light drizzle falling to the earth. A pleasant summer breeze carried the scent of rain-soaked asphalt through the streets of Fukuoka.
Kurayami couldn't believe that it had almost been five months since his escape from the Shie Hassaikai. With every passing day, he grew more grateful for his newfound freedom. Even though his home consisted of an abandoned building, he was happier than he'd ever been.
It was late. He'd spent the entire day in the library, meticulously planning their new route to Okinawa. His paranoia demanded thoroughness, but he felt a pang of guilt for leaving Mayhem alone all day. Now, he was rushing through the night and rain, eager to return to his feline companion.
As Kurayami navigated the maze-like backstreets, the surroundings grew increasingly unfamiliar. The streets narrowed, flanked by older, more tightly packed buildings. His instincts prickled with unease, prompting him to quicken his pace. He turned a corner into a dimly lit alley, intending to cut through to a busier street.
Halfway down the alley, Kurayami froze. A faint sound reached his ears - a muffled cry, barely audible over the patter of rain. Despite every instinct screaming at him to turn and run, he found himself moving forward, drawn by a curiosity he couldn't explain.
Partially hidden in the shadows, he witnessed a scene that made his blood run cold. Two men, their faces obscured by masks, were forcibly dragging a young boy into a nondescript van. The boy, who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, was struggling weakly, his movements sluggish as if drugged.
Kurayami's mind raced. This was clearly a kidnapping in progress, likely the work of human traffickers. His first instinct was to turn and run, to pretend he hadn't seen anything. After all, he had his own problems to deal with. Getting involved would only put him and Mayhem at risk.
But as he watched the terror in the boy's eyes, something stirred within Kurayami. Memories of his own past, of feeling helpless and alone, flooded his mind. He thought of all the times he had wished someone would step in, would care enough to help.
Kurayami took a deep breath, his decision made. He couldn't walk away, not from this. "Sorry, Mayhem," he whispered, his voice tight with determination and something akin to sadness. He knew he would risk everything by helping the other boy - his freedom, Mayhem, his life. But something in his gut was demanding him to help, to not walk away from this.
With his heart pounding, Kurayami stepped out of the shadows. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the alley walls. "What do you think you're doing?"
The kidnappers whirled around, momentarily startled by the interruption. It was all the opening Kurayami needed. He charged forward, adrenaline coursing through his veins, ready to fight for a stranger's freedom – and perhaps, in some small way, to right the wrongs of his own past.
The first kidnapper, a burly man with a scar visible beneath his mask, lunged at Kurayami. Drawing on his training, Kurayami ducked under the man's grasp, using his smaller size to his advantage. He delivered a swift kick to the back of the man's knee, causing him to stumble.
The second kidnapper, leaner and quicker, came at Kurayami from his blind side. Kurayami barely managed to dodge, the man's fist grazing his cheek. The near-miss sent a jolt of fear through him, reminding him of the stakes.
"Run!" Kurayami shouted to the dazed boy, who had slumped against the van. The boy blinked, confusion giving way to understanding, and he stumbled away from the scene.
Kurayami allowed himself a moment of relief, but it cost him. The scarred man, having recovered, grabbed Kurayami from behind. Kurayami struggled, his mind racing to find a way out. He kicked the man's shin and threw his head back, feeling a satisfying crunch as it connected with the kidnapper's nose.
The grip loosened, and Kurayami twisted free. But before he could capitalize on his advantage, the lean kidnapper was on him. He ducked under a high kick and delivered his own low kick, tripping the lean man.
The sound of rushing footsteps reached his ears, and he backflipped, landing on the scarred man's shoulders before flipping off of him again. A sweet scent filled the air, and he saw a violet-colored mist fill the alley. He allowed himself a small, devilish grin; he might hate his quirk, but nevertheless, it was more than useful.
As the mist reached his lungs, he felt the usual energy of his quirk coursing through his veins, negating the poison in his lungs before bathing the whole alley in blue light, negating the mist itself.
Both kidnappers were stunned. That was all Kurayami needed as he launched once again towards the scarred man, landing a high kick on his jaw before assaulting him with a series of kicks and punches. By the time the other man took action, the scarred man was already out.
Kurayami let himself fight on instinct alone. He fought like a devil, fast and ruthless. He knew the stakes and couldn't afford to lose, so he hyper-focused on those two men. One was out; the other was engaged in a losing battle with Kurayami. The kidnapper reached his hand on Kurayami's blind side, hoping to pull his hair just enough to stun him. Kurayami made to dodge on the right, but the kidnapper caught the edge of his eye patch with his fingertips, effectively taking it off and revealing the gruesome scar that ran from his temple to his cheek, and the milky eye that was hidden beneath. He kept fighting; nothing mattered more than taking down this man.
Which is why he didn't see or hear the third man reaching from behind him. A cloth bathed in chloroform was pressed successfully over his nose, the sweet smell of the drug enveloping his senses. He tried to fight, but he could feel his energy washing away. His desperation was just enough to attempt a back headbutt against his third assailant, but there wasn't enough power in the attack for the man to let go, just enough to elicit a colorful string of words.
The world seemed to tilt and blur around him. He could hear sirens in the distance - had someone called the police? The thought barely registered as he fought to stay conscious.
The two conscious kidnappers exchanged a quick glance. "Grab his feet," the one holding him growled. "He'll fetch a good price too."
As rough hands seized him, Kurayami's last coherent thought was of Mayhem. "I'm sorry," he mumbled before darkness claimed him.
The van's doors slammed shut, and it peeled away into the night, leaving behind only a puddle of rainwater mixed with blood. The sirens grew louder, but by the time they arrived, the alley was empty - save for a single eye patch.