A New Light

A New Light: Chapter I

Yet another early shift as they all have been this past year, first years always got the earliest of shifts and the worst of tasks; today’s shift started earlier than usual, today was a 3:00am shift start which gave him only a few hours of sleep. Unfortunately there was no point in complaining because it has always been that way, and it could harm his chances of moving on into second year residency. After doing the morning rounds in the ward that he was given, Maruki as well as three other residents were called to emergency for there was a larger group coming in and there were not enough doctors on shift and needed assistance. There was no information through the mass text as to what the group that was coming had suffered, which made the situation that much more nerve wrecking. The first years had never been in the emergency room when there was an actual emergency, the last Maruki had to deal with was that stitch case, and even that made him anxious.

All four first years ran down to emergency as they were prompted to and lined up while nurses placed the disposable smocks on them. Waiting at the automatic doors for the paramedics to wheel in the first of the patients. To the four residents, there were two attendings, meaning there was going to be two on their own with nurses. 

The sirens fast approached and stopped abruptly at the automatic doors and two paramedics jumped out of the back of the truck and quickly pulled a young woman out on a stretcher. She was wrapped in gauze, covered up to the neck in an emergency blanket, and her head was wrapped in a neck and jaw brace as well as her features appearing soaked through and through. After shouting a bunch of jargon to the attending and nurses that the residents had not heard before, the first attending had decided that Morimoto, the resident standing next to Maruki could handle this patient.

After the first ambulance had driven off back to the bay, the second had arrived and repeated the process. The attending this time gave Maruki and a few senior nurses the patient. This girl was in a torn clubbing outfit, various broken bones, some of which were sticking out through the skin, her neck was in a brace as well but there was a protective guard over her forehead as well; like the first patient, she also appeared wet from the rain. Why of all patients was Maruki given the worse of the two so far? Complaining would not get far, besides, if he succeeded with this case, it would look better for him. Having the nurses wheel her into one of the trauma rooms, the paramedic had debriefed her status as well as how and where they found her. With the information that was given, the senior nurses looked to the resident for instruction as to what to do next. 

What was to be done? Maruki never had to think this fast under pressure before. Ordering to have her moved to a permanent bed and off the stretcher was the first command, next was to assess all of the wounds and see if there was any hemorrhaging or possibility of immediate infection. Finding that she had internal bleeding in her abdomen, there was more urgency into assessing everything else. Removing the braces from her neck and head, it was discovered that her neck was not broken, yet there was a small fragment of bone floating which meant that it chipped off of one of her vertebrae. Under the loose bandage over her forehead, it was a very likely case that she would possibly lose her left eye.

Informing surgery, Maruki had called for three different surgeons if they were available; someone to aid in the internal bleeding, someone to see if there was any salvaging her shattered femur, and finally a plastic surgeon to see if there were any possibility in saving her eye and orbital socket with her natural bone.

Placing the young girl in the care of the nurses to make sure that her vitals don’t drop too far while the surgeons were on their way, Maruki returned to the bay to see if he could be of any assistance to other residents that were not finished with their patients. However, the last two that were to arrive in the emergency room were not of priority as they had passed in transit due to the injuries they had sustained. Morimoto’s and Maruki’s patients were the only two to survive, at least for now.

All of that excitement for nine in the morning, and it had not even lasted forty-five minutes. Luckily for Maruki, who was not ready to see someone die, was not around when the last two were wheeled in.

Looking for Morimoto after all of the commotion and getting cleaned up from the bloody clothes and gloves, Maruki was still shaking yet Morimoto looked to be as cool as a cucumber.

“Has anyone talked to you as to what happened? Was it a car accident?” Maruki asked with a small shake in his voice. At times like this he wondered if it was the correct career path for him if he could not even handle something as simple as a living woman with a few broken bones.

The other resident had pulled Maruki aside into somewhere a little more private away from the rest of the residents and nurses in the emergency room. He looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear.

“No, apparently they were all found like that in a park on a bench. It seemed that they were dumped there from a local bar, the bartender remembers seeing all of them there until closing time.” Morimoto may have been a competition, considering all residents were all competing for the position they wanted, yet he still seemed friendly because while competitors, he knew that they all needed to work together as well to get to where they wanted. 

This peeked Maruki’s interest, he had no ties in the law whatsoever, but there seemed to be something exhilarating about speculating as to what had happened and if the suspects would ever get caught. After the small tidbit of information from his peer, Maruki continued about his day of tasks that would carry him until dinner time that evening. Making this a fourteen hour day, slightly longer than his usual shift but it would not have been as long if it the emergency room and the paperwork that came with it did not take almost two hours to complete. Making sure that everything was complete before clocking out, Maruki had then left as quickly as possible in attempts to not be held back still from his sweet retreat to bed. 

After getting off of the bus, because the parking at the hospital was just far too expensive especially for a resident, Maruki had arrived at home to find that his roommate was walking behind him, looking just as tired as him if not even more tired.

“Ai, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Stopping in front of the door after having unlocked it, Maruki looked back to Aiya slumping down the hallway. Walking passed him, he said nothing as he pushed into the door while turning the handle and heavily stepping into their apartment. “Are you feeling ok? Did you leave early?” Maruki was not getting much out of Aiya other than a few groans, there was obviously something wrong and he was not telling him. Following him into the apartment and locking the door, Maruki anxiously waited for Aiya to explain to him what was going on.

Haphazardly slipping his shoes off and not caring of where they were placed, Aiya walked heavily into the living room and threw himself down on the couch, pulling a pillow over his eyes. 

“I haven’t slept. I had to call my work because I was not able to make it.” Him pausing made Maruki’s anticipation grow. “I was at the police station all morning because I was a witness to a few women who were injured last night at my bar.” He groaned loudly and rolled on his side facing the back cushion of the couch to hide from the light. 

Maruki’s eyes widened as he dove down to the side of the couch, placing a hand on Aiya’s shoulder. 

“I had those people come into the emergency room today, it’s why I’m home late!” Maruki shouted as he leaned over Aiya to see if he could see his face. “Are you ok at least? I know you’re tired, but you weren’t hurt or anything were you?” Lowering his voice again, Maruki leaned back on his heels, preparing to stand. While Aiya was there in front of him exhausted, he was still afraid that he could have been hurt or even slightly traumatized if he came in contact with anyone suspicious. 

Rolling over to his other shoulder, Aiya pulled the pillow off of his head and tossed it on his lap lazily.

“No, I’m fine.” It had sounded as if was already going to pass out from exhaustion. He had worked a morning shift at the convenience store and almost immediately after started his shift at the bar which was only supposed to last until 00:30 in the morning. “I’m just really tired. They didn’t let me sleep at all when I was giving them my statement.” Aiya let out a long and deep yawn, pulling his beautiful hands over his mouth. “I think I’m going to take a nap though, I’ve been awake for almost thirty-six hours.” It was rare for Aiya to be awake for so long, while working two jobs, he did love his sleep and got it as often as he could. 

Patting Aiya’s shoulder before placing the blanket from the back cushion over him, leaving him to sleep. Closing the curtains on the the one-and-a-half walls for Aiya before retreating to his room to relax on his own.

It was not long after being forced to be in his room alone and having to be quiet, Maruki was losing his mind. While he was tired from his fourteen-hour shift, he was no longer sleepy, as what happens to those select few when they get in the comfort off their own home. Feeling that four hours of trapped in silence was at his absolute limits of boredom. Maruki loved his roommate in all, but he needed out of the house if he was not allowed to walk television.

It was nearly ten in the evening, and Maruki was just leaving the apartment. There was no scheduled shift for the hospital tomorrow and the same peer that was given his on-call shift had been given it again, giving him another surprise day off. Sneaking into the foyer and quickly slipping his shoes on, Maruki had to get out and go somewhere, and do anything. While he felt bad for leaving Aiya on the couch alone after a stressful day at the police station, maybe coming back with a treat would make him feel better when he woke up. 

Even in the early summer months, the sun was long gone by nine in the evening, making the streets an eerie and silent trip through the dark. At this time of day, only the overachieving office workers and late night service workers were wandering the streets; taking in their celebratory after work drinks and their caffeinated beverages to keep them awake on their commute home. The bright flashing lights of the store signage and the billboards were blinding against the night sky.

~*~

Being trapped in between the man in the dark grey three-piece and the man in the metallic purple blazer, the mysterious boy sat stiffly in the roomy SUV as they drove aimlessly down the wet streets of downtown Tokyo. Off to the side on the limo styled seat, Keisuke was yet again slumped over, barely conscious in his bloodied and tattered beige suit. Akira spoke calmly to the boy in order to not scare him, for he was staring over at Keisuke.

“We’ve seen you around, yet somehow you are a very difficult person to get ahold of.” The tone in Akira’s voice was almost annoyed, like this single boy had offended him. “Why have you even been looking for us?” It was a a quiet day in the streets of Tokyo, the rain played an obvious part in that. People have been hesitant in going outside unless it was absolutely necessary due to the downpour. Since the week prior, it had rained a total of one-hundred and twenty millimeters, this was unheard of in almost any part of the world during monsoon season, let alone a country that never saw this much rain in a season. Due to there being a lack of people in the streets, the two elite men were bored and very agitated without the possibility of a hunt. 

Glancing over his shoulder to the man in the purple blazer while scrunching his nose, the mysterious boy fell silent for a moment before looking to his feet.

“Every time you’re around, a disgusting scent fills my nostrils.” He explained lowly, afraid as to what they two men would do to his comment. “I didn’t know it was you I was looking for, I was just looking for the scent.” He continued, trying to make the comment a little less harsh. It was even hard for him to sit around the two, not knowing why made it worse as well. The mysterious boy’s eyes fell upon the man in the shaggy suit, when he noticed the blood, his eyes darted back to the man in the metallic suit.

A small grin fell upon the man’s lips, he had obviously known something about the boy. Addressing Keisuke as well, Akira  returned his gaze to the boy.

“Oh, him? Don’t worry about him.” He waved off their accompaniment as if he were a piece of trash on the sidewalk. “He chose this lifestyle.” That key word got the mysterious boy to look between the two men on either side of him, what did they mean about lifestyle? Akira knew that would peek his interest, and now there was plenty of explaining to do. “look kid, there are things that you don’t know about, that you should really know about. Since you know, you’re in the life style as well.” He spoke almost toneless.

The mysterious boy’s brows furrowed in confusion, this man was making no sense at all to him.

“I am part of the lifestyle? What does that mean?” His gaze shifted to the man on the other side of him. “Does that mean you know something about me?” Maybe it was the break he was looking for, being able to get some answers after being in the dark about his past for half a month about who he was. Shifting now to face the man in purple he looked to him in determination. “What do you know about me? Do you know my name?” The one piece of information the boy would settle for if not being able to get any more. There was a sense of urgency written all over the boy’s face, he needed to know if these potent men knew his identity.

Folding a leg over the other, the man in the three-piece suit addressed the boy with all of the information that he knew of him.

“There are many species in the world and just as humans had evolved and mutated over time, there were species born along side humans as well. Just as there are many species of feline or canine, there are of sapiens as well.” Kyohei started in an almost bored tone, as if he had spoken of this far too often. “I am of the Master and Kyuuketsuki race. I know it makes me sound narcissistic. Akira here, is of the Hetaera and Kyuuketsuki race. While born into it, there is no deciding factor as to what race is chosen, it is more of a mutation in that sense.” He continued calmly, noticing there was still an expression of confusion over the boy’s face. 

“Modern terms call us mythical, monsters.” Hoping the boy would get the hint, yet his unchanged expression spoke otherwise. “We are vampires, Ruka.” The boy’s ears perked up at that last comment. “Yes, that’s your name.”

Ruka completely ignored the rest of that small monologue of the well dressed man. All he cared about was him name. 

“My name is Ruka?” He questioned softly as he looked down to his feet, feeling as if a piece of a puzzle had fit into place. As it was said, he questioned as to how he had forgotten for it felt as if it never left. 

Staring at Kyohei in silence for a moment waiting for the boy to continue with questions, his annoyance grew as the boy remained silent beside him.
“That’s it? You don’t care about anything else?” His tone grew dark while he grew fully annoyed. Ruka looked to him for a moment before looked down to his feet again silently, indicating that he did not care at all about everything else Kyohei had said. That got Akira to clench his teeth together hard, as it had always been, he was never good at controlling his anger and it showed. “You do realize what I had just told you, right?” That strain in his throat was forced, with one simple sentence the boy had Akira properly annoyed. Responded to with ignorance and silence again Akira had reached his limits, looking up to the driver in the front seat, whom of which he gave a stern and specific look.

Glancing back to his boss from the rearview mirror, the driver gave a hesitant nod and followed those silent instructions to the best of his capability. Searching the drowned streets for what he normally had kept an eye out for, he noticed his boss twirling his finger in the air, a universal sign of ‘switch it up.’ Did that mean he was not looking the usual flaky female, but anyone this time? Not only would it be difficult to find a lone man at this time of night, but anyone due to the weather.

While Ruka remained deep in his own thoughts of his lost newly found identity, the driver continued his hunt for his employers. 

“Kid.” Kyohei called out softly after seeing the look in Akira’s now glaring eyes. While just as heartless as Akira, there was a time and a place for needless killing and this was not that. Also left with a silent response, Kyohei let off a quiet sigh before turning to the window and look out it silently. Knowing Akira, there were only two ways this was going to end: either nothing was to happen for they would find no one before he got bored, or there would be an unnecessary casualty that would either be food, or a lifeless vessel. However, nothing could prepare him for what Akira actually had planned for when their driver had found a victim.

Biting his lip in anger, Akira looked out his window while the kid kept thinking to himself. Staring out into the darkened, reflective streets, Akira had found someone of interest; a lone male carrying a ready-meal in a convenience store bag. A scene as such usually indicated that they had no ties to family or friends and their life revolved around work or school. 

“James…” Akira called out to his driver, whom again looked to him from the rearview mirror noticing his gesture as he pointed out their target. The driver looked to the streets ahead of him and locked onto the lone person in the street, waiting for instruction as to what to do next; it was to usually pull up next to them and offer a drink and a fun time going to clubs or bars, however this time may have been different. “Hit ‘im.” That got Kyohei to shoot a wide-eyed gaze over in Akira’s direction, he was not only going to needlessly kill but in the middle of the street. With great hesitation, James had closed his eyes in a painful regret for his future actions. Turning the wheel of the SUV slowly, the driver turned to be straight with the lone individual in the street even if it meant to drive over the curb and onto the extra wide sidewalk.

Carrying a  clear umbrella under his arm while he was nose deep in his phone screen, the man carrying the ready-meal was none-the-wiser of what the intention was of the lone vehicle in the street. His first priority was to return home and deliver the ready-meal while it was still hot. Akira had placed a hand on the top of the boy’s head to face out the windshield and witness the task that was dropped in James’ lap.

“I implore you to witness, please.” Akira exclaimed in a calm tone as he instructed Ruka to watch a supposed heinous crime. As he spoke, the vehicle jittered as it jumped the curb and quickly drove smoothly as all four wheels were on the same level; but that would not last long.

Even with the bright LED lights beaming in his direction and reflected off of the glazed cement, the innocent pedestrian was caught off guard for there was no expectation that a vehicle would jump a curb just to hit a pedestrian. Like a deer in headlights, a cliché everyone knew yet never expected that it would happen to them, the pedestrian froze and stared at the vehicle drive straight for him and straight towards the building wall on the other side of him. 

With wide eyes, Ruka was forced to stare out of the window as this psychotic man held his gaze to lock with the scene. An innocent person was nearing the front of the vehicle quickly and there was no stopping soon in sight, this heavy duty vehicle was going to come in contact with that innocent person. Paralyzed in fear, Ruka did not blink and in a flash, there was a loud crashing thud, and what felt like a very large, uneven speed bump. In a quick second, the sports utility vehicle had stopped just before hitting the cement wall in front, yet the car was still uneven. Glassed, hollow eyes stared forward at the windshield being pelted with heavy raindrops and the wiper blades drying them off as fast as they came. Whatever just happened, it was still in progress and he was now a part of it. What felt like for an eternity was only a few moments before Ruka could not remain silent any longer. Letting out a blood curdling scream and while staring Akira in the eye, Ruka had an instant stream of tears rolling down his cheek.

“WHY!” Grabbing that ugly blazer by the collar, Ruka shook the man. “What did that person do to deserve this?” There was no answer that Akira could give him that could make any possible sense or logic, there was nothing that warranted death a gruesome and needless as this.

Kyohei glanced out his window, there were feet sticking out from underneath the vehicles wheels on his side, why his side? Peeling his glance away from that image, his eyes locked to Akira whom had a content expression on his face.

“What are your intentions now?” There was a bitter taste of anger that rolled over his tongue, it was the first time in years that he was angry at Akira through and through. “Do you plan on leaving that human there? He did nothing to deserve being left on the sidewalk to rot.” While always trying to keep a calm and collected façade, those who knew him best knew that Kyohei was not always as calm as he lead off to be.

Pushing the kid off of him and straightening out his collar again, Akira looked to his right-hand man with an ugly smirk on his lips.

“Of course I don’t intend on leaving him there.” Giving the kid in the path of their gaze a glance, he then continued with his explanation. “This kid is going to get some experience in our life and change ‘im.” With that, Kyohei’s eyes widened further, Ruka’s look of disgust and fear became more apparent, and even Keisuke stirred awake at that comment.

A New Light: The Prologues

Prologue I: Ruka, Akira, Kyohei, Keisuke

Heavy pellets of water pelted the boy’s soft cheek; it felt cold with every drop that hit. The boy stirred awake with a low grumble, coming to, he realized he leaned against a loud, rusted industrial air conditioning unit. Stumbling to his feet, he dragged himself to the small wall of where he was located to determine his location. The boy had found himself standing on the edge of an industrial warehouse located on the bay of the city. Wearing nothing but jeans and a black hoodie in the torrential downpour and dripping wet coal black locks over his snake-like eyes, the boy escaped the roof of the building and sought shelter in the dead of night.

Kilometers away, in the red-light district of the city, sat three men in a bar, sipping on drinks. The bar was quiet, not another soul was to be seen other that the three men and the bartender. The man dressed absurdly had rented out the entire underground bar for himself and his cohorts. Each man drank his own beverage of choice, free of charge, for it came with the price of renting. The man in an olive, metallic blazer that was not accompanied by a white shirt, drank whiskey on the rocks. The sharply dressed man in a pure black, three-piece suit sipped on hot, premium sake.  The third man whom was dressed in a beige frayed suit and an off-white shirt, both of which appeared to be purchased at a thrift store, had a half filled champagne flute dangling between his fingers.

The six thousand square-foot bar was dimly lit and well arranged. Black lounge chair around an “S” curved glass table, mahogany bar tables accompanied by a flower and a candle for a centerpiece, bamboo grass dividers between booths and VIP sectors, and chandeliers hanging from above, finished with red velvet curtains covering small walls.

Glancing over at the man in beige as he slumped further into his chair while he slipped in and out of consciousness, the sharply dressed man couldn’t help but chuckle at him after a sip of sake.

“Ne, Akira, I believe we over did it this time.” The sharply dressed man commented as he directed his gaze to the absurdly dressed man. Within the next moment, the man in the beige suit had dropped his chin to his chest. 

Shooting a glance over at the man in beige, Akira had shaken his head in protest at his right hand man’s comment.

“Kyohei, you're over reacting.” Akira stared at him for a moment before passing his gaze over to Kyohei. “Keisuke is fine.” At that moment, Keisuke had lost all consciousness and dropped the half full champagne flute on the thinly carpeted floor. The thin flute had shattered on impact, spilling all of the pale orange liquid everywhere, leaving a wet stain. 

Loudly placing his heavy glass down on the glass table, Akira let out a heavy sigh at Keisuke.

“Okay, perhaps you are correct, Kyohei.” Shaking his head in disappointment at their accompaniment, Akira turned to address the bartender. “It appears my friend has made a mess of your lovely floor, barkeep.” Giving him a silent nod in return, the bartender had addressed the problem. 

Kyohei sat forward in his chair, placing his small sake glass on the tray it arrived on, he gave Keisuke a hard look, noticing that on either side of his collar had been stained with the crimson fluid of his own body. Slowly bringing his gaze to Akira, Kyohei bit his lip in frustration.

“Are you sure you only took two pints?” Akira and Kyohei had promised Keisuke that they would never take more than a third of his life source, it ensured that he would still be able to function and walk home with them if needed. Akira had looked away towards the ceiling, dancing his eyes around silently. “No wonder he passed out so quickly. You know he needs more than half to make it through the night.” Kyohei, the right hand man was thoroughly upset with his first in command,

“How much did you take, Akira?” Kyohei questioned with a hint of frustration.

Looking away still, grabbing for his glass, Akira seemed to ignore his right hand man for a moment. Taking a sip of chilled whiskey to wet his throat, Akira had finally responded seconds later.

“I took four.” He quickly continued. “But for good reason!” He pointed to Kyohei with his three lower most fingers, to hold his whiskey that was still in hand.

“It had been over a week since we had last fed off of him, and I had almost killed someone today in temptation.” He quickly gave his explanation.

Kyohei dropped his head for a moment in shame of his first man, letting out a sigh. He leaned his elbows on his knees and spoke softly to contain his anger. 

“Its called will-power, Akira. Which appears that you do not have.” He looked over at Keisuke solemnly, a hint of pity in his eyes. “Since you had already slipped up today, did you want to go out and have some fun tonight?” Kyohei may have been the voice of reason, however he had a mischievous side to him as well.

At the moment of hearing Kyohei’s suggestion, Akira’s ears perked up like a puppy’s.
“I would love that, Kyohei.” Akira had quickly calmed to a relaxed state. “Are we going to have Keisuke sent home? He would only slow us down if we took him with us.” Akira gulped back the remainder of his alcohol quickly, loudly placing the glass down on the table again.

“This alcohol is doing nothing for me as is.” Akira sighed loudly.

Kyohei groaned at that.

“Alcohol doesn’t have an effect us anymore, you know that already.” He then picked up the sake pitcher and guzzled the remainder of the bottle. “We’ll have Keisuke sent back in the limo, he had caused us enough trouble for this barkeep as it seems.” Packing up their friend, Keisuke, Kyohei had left with him on his shoulder as he followed Akira out of the quiet bar into the noisy downtown streets. As soon as the two of them had left, the bouncer at the door which was at street level had opened the underground bar to the public. There appeared to be a lineup down the street of well-dressed patrons, wanting to get access to the bar, this was rare for Tokyo.

Prologue II: Daichi, Ryota

~ “… In other news, another young female had been found dead this morning, it has been reported from the coroner that she had succumb to the same injuries as the others. Police say that there are still no leads to any suspects yet and send out a warning for any young girls, to never travel alone until the perpetrator is found.” A woman on the television set took a ‘for the camera’ moment of silence before continuing. “Police are working day and night to find any suspect or suspects in the murders of eight women this month alone. More on this story as it develops.” The television broadcast fades out as the volume was lowered.

Quickly turning from his fetal position of which was nestled in the corner of the large sectional, the youthful black haired boy looked up to who disturbed his morning current events check.

“What?” He squealed out, removing his nails from between his teeth. “Ryota, I was watching that. I need to know if my mother is okay.” The youthful boy whined, propping himself up on the cushion, facing the tall, slender one; a pout on his small, puffy lips.

Placing the remote on the breakfast bar of the kitchen, Ryota adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder and gave a quick look to his pouting roommate. 

“Daichi, your mothers going to be fine, she doesn’t even live here.” Ryota, the long, sharp-faced boy sighed loudly. “While these attacks are saddening, you do realize it is ten past nine, right?” This got Daichi frantic. Ryota watched Daichi dash down the hall as he approached the entrance grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Daichi looked to the clock that hung over the kitchen sink, followed by jumping over the back of the couch, scrambling down the hall to his room.

“Shoot! I’m going to be late!” Quick banging could be heard from the back of the apartment as Daichi scrambled to find his uniform and necessities. Ryota looked down the darkened hall, hearing Daichi’s frustrated groans. Giving a dumbstruck look Ryota slowly grabbed his keys off of the key peg on the wall; locking his eyes on the hallway, he unlocked the latch and stepped out of the apartment backwards, mouthing a silent ‘okay’ before leaving. 

Daichi shoved his mobile and wallet into his pants pockets and snatched the headphones off of his desk and darted out of the room. He threw his shoes on carelessly, snatched his keys off of the same peg board and darted out of the apartment, locking it quickly behind him.

“I hope I’m not late.” Daichi mumbled to himself as he ran down the stairs, slipping every other step. If he was late for his nine-thirty shift, this would be the third time, warranting a written warning or termination. “Sorry, ‘scuse me!” Daichi majestically tan through the heavy crowd on the streets, needing to go at least half-a-dozen city blocks to his department retail job. While he was newer, and despite his frequent tardiness, Daichi was set for a promotion soon which would result in a wage increase. Days like these in the capital, one would take anything they could get as the cost of rentals and mortgages was steadily increasing.

Off in the opposite direction, Ryota was at a leisurely pace, he had a longer distance to walk, however he didn’t leave late to his employment. The boy who was given the nickname ‘giraffe’ by his students, towered over the crowd at an uncommon one-hundred and seventy-eight centimeters. On the sixth floor of a large skyscraper, was a quaint dance studio, this is where Ryota taught three days a week to students of all ages. His specialty was tap dancing, however he had a plethora of genres he’s mastered over a ten year span of instructing at this studio. While the work was part time, Ryota had earned a high enough wage with his seniority that he didn’t require working any more than that, this game him more time to practice a blossoming passion of percussions.

Nine-twenty-seven, three minutes before his shift started, Daichi had burst in the sliding glass doors, covered in a shimmering layer of sweat  and a heaving chest.

“Huu~” Daichi groaned loudly as he crawled his way to the employee lounge to place his belonging for the day. He clocked in with the fingerprint scanner, dried the sweat from his face and moved to the floor where he would remain for his eight hour shift as a clothes salesman. 

Prologue  III: Mikiya, Maika

“Mikiya! My lord man, why does it always take you so long?” The wavy-haired man groaned loudly. “Hell is going to freeze over before you move your ass.” He slumped down in his chair, almost slipping off. As he slowly lowered to his knees, the wavy-haired man collapsed on the floor. 

Mikiya took his nose out of the pages in his hands, he glared over the paper at his fellow peer. 

“You know, this would go a lot faster if you just got off your ass,” Mikiya emphasized the reiteration of his peer’s comment. “Maika, you do know this is a two man decision.” He dropped his gaze back to the pages, flicking his wrists to straighten them out.

He let out a loud, frustrated groan.

“It’s bloody food!” He shot his head up from the bowing position. “I don’t think the viewers will really care what it is, as long as we get a video out this week.” While it was not an ideal form of income, for it could cease at any moment, Mikiya and Maika ran a video domain channel as well as other various social media pages, with a surprisingly large amount of followers on all platforms. 

With just these few platforms, as well as sponsorship peppered around here and there, Mikiya and Maika made a decent living. Able to pay their bi-weekly mortgage, fully own two vehicles, and save in their own personal bank accounts, one would think they’re living the good life. As childhood friends and co-owners to a small production company they started  to be able to copy-write and own their own content legally, these two young men could appear as an old married couple from how much they bickered on the daily. 

“You may not care, they may not care, but I do.” Mikiya snapped at Maika in a low grumble. “I want the spiciest food you could find in Tokyo, and in copious amounts. I don’t want to seem like we’re taking the easy path.” Mikiya slapped the papers on the table, looking to Maika triumphantly.

With his chestnut coloured veil over his eyes, Maika pushed himself to sit on his heels, a pleasant expression on his face.

“My lord, you’ve finally decided?” Shifting quickly, Maika stepped his feet flat to the floor and pushed himself upright. “That took forever!” Maika pestered. 

“I was ready to take a nap.” He teased.

Mikiya gave Maika a lazy glare, his smooth features popping as soft expression washed over his face. He stretched out his arm, a single finger pointing to the other end of the house.

“Make yourself useful and go get the lights from the office.” He half pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, enhancing his disgruntled expression.

Maika let out a long groan, slumping his feet heavily and he trudged down the hall to fetch the tripod lighting.

“Yes master.” He grumbled under his breath, of which Mikiya heard, sending a forced huff from his nose. While they bickered like this all the time, they loved each other as much as childhood friends could, it was just playful banter amongst roommates, they were never anything serious.

Prologue IV: Kazuko, Jun

Out behind the counter, behind the face-masking cloth in the doorway, a very effeminate man wearing a white apron stood at the sink, washing the couple of dozen heavy platers that had just arrived from the bussing station. Over in the front of the house, the very youthful, tall man shifted around, preparing alcoholic and virgin cocktails for the patrons scattered out through the restaurant. This was an older, yet more well known restaurant, the original owners, the grandparents of the current owners had opened the quaint, now modern restaurant in the middle of the twentieth century.

Everyone loved to come to this fusion designed restaurant, the bartender was always a delight to look at and order a myriad of beverages from, just so they could get him to their table. Yet, the main attraction was the simple busboy. While he had years of home cooking experience, in his full time job, he was only allowed to touch the plates if they were dirty. The head chef and designated manager would not allow him on line, or on the floor as a server. To them, he was only there for the staff to look at, and no one else. 

From the back behind the cloth curtain there could be metal against metal clanking quietly, the bartender usually tuned it out because it was something he heard seven days a week and there was nothing more annoying than distant clanking. While they worked two different sections of the restaurant, these two were relatively close friends, their acquaintances ran back all the way to junior high school, but their friendship didn’t start until adulthood.

In the soapy dish water, the man’s fingers still started to prune, even in the cheap latex gloves that he had to buy himself. Grasping around in the murky water, the effeminate man searched for the last few utensils he knew were in there. Suddenly and efferently, the man’s hand banged against the deep steel basin-like sink. As quickly as he could, the effeminate slithered his hand out of the cheap glove and into the grasps of his other hand. In the sink, it didn’t take long for the water to be stained a vibrant red. 

“Ah! Takashi!” His hand dripped profusely and a pool of blood formed in his palm. “What is one of your knives doing in the industrial sink!” He shouted rather gruffly. His teardrop eyes narrowed into dark skits as he glared in the direction of the kitchen.

Poking his head from around the corner, a sly grin formed at the corner of his lip. As he returned to the gas burners finishing a customers order. Shouting over his shoulder, the chef spoke with a chuckle in his tone.

“Sorry Kazuko, must’ve been in there with the other stuff.” It was obvious that he deliberately placed it there, for what reason, Kazuko had no idea. 

Scoffing as he shook his hand, Kazuko let the pool of blood pour to the black nonslip May at his feet. This giving him a better look at the gash that stretched across his palm, a festering gash that came from the chef knives that most knew were sharper than a razor.

“I told you not to call me that.” Kazuko hated when his superiors used his first name, for he could not use theirs. “I’m leaving.” Kazuko growled to the chef as he ripped the off-white apron from his waist, which he threw on the floor. 

This came to no surprise to the culprit, however the general manager kicked the floor as he rolled his way to the office door. Leaning out of the doorway with a puzzled look on his face.

“Kazuko, your shift isn’t over. You’re not leaving.” He stood, pushing the office chair back with his knees.

Grabbing a clean bar towel from the alcohol bar, wrapping his hand in it, he put pressure in the wound.

“Your psycho chef put his knife in the sink.” He rose his hand, the blood seeping through the white towel as proof. “I’m going to the hospital. And possibly the police after. That psychopath has done enough.” Holding pressure on his palm, Kazuko walked backwards through the door glaring at the general manager as he tried his best to not get blood on any other part of the restaurant.

Tossing his hands up in a silent ‘what the fu...’ the general manager was baffled that one of his employees just walked out on him. Leaning over the bar table, the bartender held his chin in his palms, lazily looking over to the manager.

“It’s not the first time you know.” He spoke in a cool yet lazy tone. “That chef is a tad on the odd side. But—“ he pushed away from the table, letting out a tiny grunt as he did. “I’ll clean up after, I’m always done here first anyhow. I’ll take over Kazuko’s for today.” A sweet smile peered on his thin lips, bearing his perfectly white teeth. With an annoyed wave in the bartenders direction, the sighed heavily and walked away, his actions seemed to approve for him to take over Kazuko’s position for today.

Dropping his feature from his smooth face, he looked away with a stone expression covering his flawless face.  He pulled the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth, making his thin lip even thinner. While appearing sweet on the outside, he felt an ever lingering anger in him. The mind numbing tasks that came with barkeep were par with mediocre and mundane. He was paid well, even over minimum wage, but his tips were where he got his livings from. His life was significantly well off for a single man in the capital city, yet somehow he always felt there was a void in him that was filled with hatred.

Kazuko did not need to wait long in an emergency room, the severity of his wound as well as the location were significant enough for him to see a doctor almost right away. While a slit across his palm was not all too severe, the nature of the wound and location, it was highly susceptible to infection. After getting it cleaned up and analyzed, it was found that Kazuko would require at least fifteen stitches stretching from his index finger, down to  some on his wrist. Somehow, the wound ended up over twenty centimeters long and from point to point, covered most creases in his palm, making it unusable for a significant length of time until the stitches had fully dissolved. 

Kazuko made his was out of the hospital, bandaged all over his wrist making his digits immobile and stuff. To add to the stiffness, the local anesthetics that had numbed his flesh while receiving the stitches still has not worn off, making his entire hand and up to his elbow feel weird. Cautiously protecting his hand from the public bumping into it, he made his way down the crowded streets back this his employment. While it was quite the distance, he felt like wasting time for the incompetent business he worked for, since the injury happened at his employment, he had already intended on filing for workers compensation. 

Getting to the restaurant again, Kazuko slowly crept the back door open, having now been after hours. The chef had already left, as always, leaving his tasks for the dishwasher. Sneaking in, he could hear clanking further in the kitchen. Peeking his head around the corner, he saw the bartender elbow deep in the sink. 

“Jun, you’re helping?” He looked rather confused, while they’ve been friends for a while now, his acts of kindness still surprised him. 

Jun looked up from the sink, then throwing the last dish in the rack before sliding it into the sanitizing machine.. 

“No, I’m saving your ass from getting fired.” He looked back to the now empty sink as he pulled the stopper from the drain. “You know he’s not happy right?” Jun peered through his blue-black bangs, followed by turning to face his co-worker, almost his subordinate.

He threw his hand up , showing Jun what that chef had done to him. Kazuko leaned his shoulder against the wall, resting his injured arm on his hip tossing his soft black hair behind his ear.

“You think that I would just walk out?” Kazuko looked around the dimly lit restaurant, the lights outside reflecting heavily on the laminate floor, there was absolutely no one else around except those two. “I got sixteen stitches. I don’t even know what he did to have it cut me so bad.” Kazuko sighed loudly. 

Stepping aside, his dripping fingers rested in front of him, not wanting to dirty his dress pants or silk dress shirt. He pointed into the sink silently telling Kazuko to look into the sink. Pushing himself from the wall, Kazuko came over and looked into the deep sink, a grim look spreading over his face. Jun saw that Kazuko saw what it was that the psycho chef had done.

“Figured you’d want to know before I took it off.” Jun exclaimed flatly. In the bottom of the sink, bolted to the flat surface with galvanized pipe strapping lay the chef’s sharpest blade, upright and at an angle. “This wasn’t an easy task, bugger was committed, I’ll give him that.” Jun had grabbed the screwdriver that he had fetched before Kazuko arrived back at the restaurant, of which he used with still damp hands, working on the screws in the bottom of the sink. While the screws were not in tightly, Jun figured he’d still be careful of the blade, he didn’t want to end up like Kazuko.

Stepping aside and moving to the front half of the restaurant, Kazuko looked to the side windows, of which he could see the setting sun disappearing behind a building. 

“Well, whatever the bugger did it for, I cannot thank you enough for covering for me.” He looked to his bandaged hand, some blood starting to deep through the gauze. It was a deep wound, had slipped all the way passed the fatty tissue, but what could have caused a man to do such a thing to someone like Kazuko? Kazuko was a good man, always went to work everyday and showing up early, he was fairly quiet at work, waitresses were the only ones that really spoke to him and while it was a kind gesture, it was always about work. Out of work, Kazuko never had really don’t anything outlandish, besides getting some warnings for jay-walking and accidentally bumping into an elderly man while running and looking at his phone, Kazuko was a good man. “Do you think I’ll be fired? I did leave angry and without clocking out.” Kazuko looked back to the sink, Jun had just pulled the knife from the sink while tossing the galvanized strapping into the garbage next to the sink. He looked back to Kazuko but said nothing as he left to he went to return the kitchen to the line.

Kazuko sighed, as his gaze fell to the dark floor. Jun came up from around the corner, his jacket in hand.

“You and I both know he legally can’t fire you.” Jun said in a slightly entertained tone. “While I think it would be interesting if he tried, a business like this can’t afford to hire lawyers for wrongful firing.” He pay Kazuko on the shoulder and gestured that they could go, everything was finished for the night. Somehow, talking about a psychotic and childish man got Jun giddy, was it the fact that the chef of over twenty years could be fired and sued, or the fact that Kazuko was deeply injured? Even he did not know.

Kazuko and Jun exited through the backdoor again, locking it behind them. The numbing of the localized anesthesia was wearing off and a sharp shooting pain began to throb around his stitches.

“Thanks again Jun, can I repay you in anyway?” Kazuko offered politely. “Buy you a beer or something?” Kazuko grabbed his hand in the other, adding slight pressure hoping to relieve the pain some.

Jun looked to the watch on his wrist, giving a small sigh in protest. 

“No, sorry Kazuko.” He declined politely. “I have some matters to deal with tonight. Maybe some time. You do owe me now.” Jun teased, however was quite serious. While they were friends, jun always kept close ties on those he did something for. Perhaps it was some unknown trauma of his past or just common sense, but Jun hardly trusted anyone. He kept everyone on a small leash because he could not trust that some would try to take advantage of his assets, or something worse.

Prologue V: Maruki, Aiya 

It has been something close to twenty-five years that these two lifelong friends had first met, and some of four years living together, yet somehow they both had found themselves missing the other after a long day at work. 

Coming in at dinner from his nine-hour shift, a very beautiful man had come home, heavily stomping his way into the foyer. Slipping his feet from the solid-black shoes and lazily tossing them beside the shoe rack, the man placed his keys in the designated basket that sat atop the shoe rack and hung the dripping umbrella off the side. The apartment was dark, it was nine in the evening and the lights had not been turned on. The man ran both his hands through his hair and let out a long sigh. 

“Still at work I see.” He spoke to know one in particular. His voice was a tone of soft femininity and seemed to resemble a shy giggle at all times. Slowly slumping to his room to change, the man began to remove his clothing as he walked down the hallway. His room was always at the deepest part of the home, it made him feel connected to the heart of his home when he was in his room. Slipping his boring, flat coloured smock off his back and placing it over his shoulders, the man worked at his belt as he pushing his half open door with his shoulder. The the muffled metal clanking together was quiet, he pulled at the buckle, slipping it from each hook quickly. Normally he waited to get behind closed doors to undress, but his roommate was not home therefore had nothing to be ashamed of. His long, thin fingers hooked his belt on its assigned hanger and tossed his smock to the floor, messing his jet black hair as he did. Unsnapping the button and lowering the zipper to its farthest, he left his room and headed to the kitchen, his black jeans holding to his feminine hips loosely, the exposed his lowest most abdominal muscle, which while it was not defined, it was flat and taut. 

Twirling on his toes his dark hair sweeping across his brow, the man pushed his heel into the floor and stopped himself from spinning further by holding the fridge handle. He pulled the door open, looking for a bottle of refreshing green tea. His Sakura bud eyes found the last bottle in the door, while balancing on one leg, his other stretched behind him, he grasped it by the cap. The lock locked, his roommate was home and he was indecently dressed. Not knowing what to do, the beautiful man just stood there in just the light of the refrigerator.

Shuffling in the foyer, the other roommate had prepared himself for him. He slipped his feet from his shoes, stiffly bending down to put them on the rack, a second quiet shuffle indicated he had also put the other’s shoes away as well. Stepping up on the main floor, the second roommate reacted in a quick second, his eye catching a light in the corner, he turned, and nearly jumped out of his skin. He flicked the hallway light on, seeing his feminine roommate standing at the fridge, letting all the cold of it out. 

“Jesus Christ, Aiya!” The roommate shouted with a quiver in his voice, his body still pumped with adrenaline. “You scared the shit out of me.” His currently higher registered voice was sweet, but filled with the fight-or-flight.

Aiya has parted his lips, letting out a long ‘uh.’ His slender fingers had flicked the fridge door shut leaving him standing with nothing to cover his porcelain chest from the white light of the hallway. 

“I uh, didn’t know when you’d be home, Maruki.” Suddenly aware he was shirtless and jeans carelessly open, he crossed both arms around his body. One over his flat chest, of which contained no defined muscles, and the other covering his genital area. “I also just got home.” He said softly, a nervous quiver choking up in his throat.

Taking a long deep breath, Maruki turned and headed to his bedroom, completely ignoring Aiya and his shameful position. 

“Yeah, my on-call shift was cancelled so they let me go home. Apparently Amy was assigned it a few hours ago, guess they wanted her to get more training in.” He called over his shoulder before the click of the door shutting in place was heard. Aiya shifted in his place, but he did not move from the kitchen. Moments later, Maruki came out, dressed in grey sweats and an oversized, long sleeved t-shirt. He looked briefly to Aiya, a quick chuckle escaping his throat as he tossed one of his oversized tees over the counter right at Aiya. “I’ve known you for how long Ai and you still get embarrassed from the way you look?” He walked around the breakfast island, standing behind Aiya. 

“I know you’ve had it tough, but there’s no need to be embarrassed.” Maruki said in a reassuring soft tone. Staying silent for a moment, he looked behind him, the one-and-a-half walls of windows were free of their curtains, maybe that’s what got Aiya embarrassed. “Go, change. You’ll be fine.” Maruki pat the small of Aiya’s back and sent him on his way. Aiya scuttled away silently, holding his pants making sure they wouldn’t fall and clutching the tee to his bare chest. 

Aiya quickly ran to his room and changed into his nightwear, Maruki’s long t-shirt and red plaid pants. He kept his gaze from Maruki’s, still a little embarrassed.

“Uh, how was work?” He asked shyly, his hesitation caught Maruki’s attention. “It was a long day for you.” While Aiya worked nine-hours a day, five days a week at one of his jobs and unset hours at the other, Maruki always had longer and harder days than he did. Shuffling to the large couch, Aiya plopped himself down in the corner of the sectional and pulled his knees to his chest. 

If not for the colour contrast, Maruki would most likely not know Aiya was there in the still-dark living room. Bringing Aiya’s tea with him, Maruki moved from the kitchen island to the couch, sitting himself next to Aiya, bringing his feet under his butt and comfortably folding his knees in front of him. 

“It was all right. No real emergencies today.” He exclaimed, reaching an arm to Aiya’s shoulder, pulling him in to lean on his shoulder. “I had a man come in, had to give him 16 stitches in his hand. It was a nasty cut, but a clean one so it’ll heal fine.” Holding Aiya’s opposite shoulder, it was easy to see just how much smaller Maruki was compared to him. Aiya shifted, making him rest more comfortably on Maruki’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure if he did it himself or not, I just know it was in a straight line across his palm.” Maruki pondered, resting his chin atop Aiya’s smooth hair. “It’s not our place to ask questions if the patients don’t want to answer.” Aiya had seemed to relax some, prompting Maruki to place his hand on his head, running his fingers through his silky smooth hair.

Aiya let out an almost sad sigh. His eyes closed softly as he finally relaxed completely in Maruki’s embrace.

“Your job is so much more interesting than mine are.” He said softly, no real need to speak loudly for he was already basically in Maruki’s ear. “My excitement today? I had tossed some ready-meals. One was over two weeks old. I don’t know how we missed it for so long.” Aiya’s Sakura eyes slid shut, the hypnotizing hair pets made him sleepy.

Maruki gave a quiet, airy chuckle. Amused at Aiya’s uneventful life. Patting his shoulder twice, Maruki silently indicated he was getting up.

“I’d rather you have uneventful days, Aiya.” He said with a little grunt in his voice as he pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t think I could lose you again.” It’s been well over ten years since the day Aiya was forced from his childhood home by his alcoholic mother, it left Maruki wondering for 5 years if Aiya was even alive still. There was no knowing what his mother was capable of while intoxicated and it killed him everyday not knowing where to even start looking for his childhood friend. Maruki made his way back to the kitchen, flicking on the track lights to their dimmest setting. “Besides, I don’t think you’d like my job, you see gross stuff everyday.” He beamed a beautiful smile over the Aiya, giving a little head tilt as well. 

“Would you like some popcorn? I’ve got the next few days off and would like to binge watch some movies.” Aiya nodded, giving a little corner-lip smile. Maruki was always so kind to him. 

He pushed himself to his feet, joining Maruki in the kitchen.

“If we’re both eating it, I might as well help you make it.” Aiya exclaimed softly, more confidence in his sweet voice now. Maruki gave a single nod, no need to protest. He walked to the pantry and pulled the small door open, looking up to the shelf with the popcorn. He gave off a small sigh as he stood on his tiptoes, reaching up as hard as he could, he still couldn’t reach. Aiya, noticing his struggles came to his aid, placing a feminine hand on Maruki’s back, holding it as he reached over his head and grabbed the whole box, pulling it down and holding it so Maruki could take out a bag. He gave Maruki a full smile, his sweet, rosebud lips pulling into a charming smile. “I’ll never get over how cute it is that you’re so short.” Aiya mocked playfully. He pat the top of Maruki’s head and put the popcorn box on a lower shelf, just as mockingly as his coy play.

Playfully pushing Aiya away, Maruki silently prepared the bag of popcorn and transferred it to a bowl. Having already returned to the Aiya had pulled the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch over his legs. As Maruki sat down again, this time a little ways from Aiya, Aiya had shifted in his seat, resting his elbow on the back of the couch.

“While I would love to watch movies and wind down, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Aiya was always looking over his friends, it didn’t matter who they were or how far away from him they were, his friends were his life. “You just had a fourteen-hour shift after all.” Aiya may have been a simple clerk at a corner convenience store and had terribly inconsistent hours, but Maruki had been guaranteed over the regular full-time hours of forty-hours a week.

Maruki leaned forward and grabbed the remote off of the marble coffee table, switching on the television and leaning his back deeply into the soft cushion. 

“I’m used to it by now.” Maruki’s soft tone seemed to smile on its own, and it made a smile form slightly in the corner of Aiya’s lips. “Besides, I don’t get to see you all that often anymore, since when I work the early shifts it always seems that you are forced to work at the bar, which I still don’t like by the way.” Having worked very late hours and having to walk home alone, it always made Maruki worried for Aiya. Since Maruki had started working at the hospital at the university of Tokyo, he was hardly home and it was hard to stay in close touch with his friends. Days of like the few he had in a row this week were very rare and utilized efficiently. Maruki remained silent for a few moments before shifting his coffee coloured eyes in Aiya’s direction, a smile spread over Aiya’s lips. Maruki’s slick, coal-coloured hair that framed his eyes had swept over his evenly dark brows as he pat the cushion next to him, beaconing Aiya to scooch over next to him.

Aiya pulled the blanket with him as he slid against the cushion closer to Maruki, pulling the blanket over Maruki’s lap as well. He gave a small chuckle, prompting Maruki to look to him with curiosity.

“I just find it funny,” Aiya started as he cuddled in close. “People must think we have a ‘suspicious relationship’ at times.” This got Maruki’s almond shaped eyes to widen.

Quickly, Maruki became defensive. “They do not!” His sweet voice squeaked loudly. Aiya didn’t respond, he only leaned in, resting his cheek on Maruki’s shoulder as he looked to the television in silence.

Prologue VI: Shourin 

“Please.” The sharply dressed gentleman stood in the streets holding an umbrella under his arm as he handed pamphlets to passerby’s, one that would take some anyway.

“I would like to offer you—“ the person walked right passed. A long and quiet sigh left the gentlemen’s lips, while he looked to the stack of pamphlets still in his basket.

“I’m sorry, could I have a moment of your time?” He followed this pedestrian for a few steps before he got the hint that they did not want to talk to him.

“Excuse me m’am.” He tiptoed to a woman who was looking at the sandwich board he was standing with. “Are you interested in our services? If so we are open seven-days a week from seven in the evening until three in the morning.” His suave and classy tone was deep and classy, it suited his attire. With flowing dark brown hair framing his face with deep waves, his dark brown eyes softened as he grabbed for the woman’s hand, slipping one of the pamphlets in between her fingers gently. “I will be there tonight from nine until midnight if you would honor me in visiting.” With a charming and almost smug smile, he got the young woman to blush, he finally got a customer. “I look forward to your visit, mon Cheri.”

That was one pamphlet down, over one hundred to go before he could get out of the cold and rain and get home.