8man's Journal October 10, 2035.
Random acts of violence clear cobwebs from old reels and an obsolete projector plays a recording from yesteryears underneath the folds of my mind. Compared to present footage, those unfortunate, like me, called again to re-enact their roles find glaring differences in their performances. Reminiscing about my past brings upon a sense of nostalgia.
First day of high school. Leaving early in anticipation. Riding a bicycle. Getting in an accident.
Bad choices taken and acted upon on a whim, with no desire to become a saviour in order to gather some modicum of goodwill. No need to become something you are not. No wish to change and become a worthy individual.
Past scene becomes clear in my mind's white sheets. Everything appears in my psyche as apparitions and ghosts. Looking back, I can envision, a ditzy airhead, taking her dog out for a walk on a misty morning many, many years ago. Dog escapes its leash and runs into the path of an incoming limousine.
Driver spots dog. Hits break. But alas, is late.
Or so he thought.
He was indeed involved in an accident, but instead of finding a dog beneath his tires he finds me, a teenager, a high school student, thrown a few feet away, lying on the road, hurt and injured. I had rescued the dog by shielding him from the impact of the car at the cost of my own body.
My price: A fractured leg, a three weeks stay in a hospital, and a guaranteed life of as a loner.
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Fogs of past are lifted from my cloudy eyes, in favour of skimming through present roads, where a parody of my history unfolds. Children are skipping schools and finding entertainment in cruelty involved with burning live ants under the focus of a magnifying glass. Those who have graduated from this basic lesson of torturing insects find creativity in vandalism and drawing graffiti.
Most stop here.
But some plan to score their way into college.
Changing their mindset from curious cruelty to sagacious sadism begins with malice directed towards animals. Career criminals and perverse psychopaths begin their humble origin and receive their first taste of an insatiable hunger by burying bodies in their own backyards of strays no one will miss, before setting their targets on neighbouring pets.
I lost Kamakura to one of these incidents.
My paranoia finds meanings in utter nonsense.
Currently a stray dog is being pelted by small stones and pebbles in a sick game, played by a group of seemingly innocent young kids, thought to be incapable of such atrocious acts. Their morbid imagination turns into demented fascination after listening to repeated whelps and shrieks, emanating in the form of anguished barks from the jaws of this homeless pup.
Unseen to them but seen by me, froth seems to be accumulating in the corners of this mutt's mouth. It's displaying signs of an erratic behaviour and showcasing an unnatural fear of water, gathered in a nearby puddle.
Dog's hydrophobic, infected with rabies. No cure.
These stupid kids are the real ones in danger but they don't know it. They will be bitten by a mad dog unless someone steps in.
History is playing a practical gag upon me, waiting for me to repeat my sins, letting me know that I have learned nothing from my past.
...From that fateful day.
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8man's Journal - Looking Into The Mind Of An Unstable Police Detective.
FanfictionHikigaya Hachiman has been suspended from the police force. But he is called back after a high profile case involving the death of Totsuka Saika, the biggest tennis star in Japan, who also happens to be one of his childhood friends. As Hachiman star...
