"Just kidding. It's in my bag. Go get it. I'll take a leak."
Shimizu Kenta was a typical suburban lad raised to take charge of the family business someday. They ran a sento and a craft shop, both thriving.
He lived west of the rail track, a few blocks from Minato Park, allowing him unlimited access to the beach, where he loved strolling to take his mind off things.
His friends called him 'gramps' for obvious reasons. Ill-tempered, thin-skinned, aggressive, but reasonable and dependable. He was the brightest in Ren's circle.
"Woy, Kenta, have you seen the news this morning? Yabe! They've snatched another one. I read somewhere that they are recruiting those kids into their cult.
I swear to god, if this keeps happening, I'll drop out and stay home for a while."
"Shinji, I doubt those douchebags will take an interest in you."
"Kenta, you're so mean. That's why everyone hates you."
"By everyone, you mean you?"
Inoue Shinji was the storyteller in the group. His innocence knew no bounds. He believed everything he was told.
Deeply immersed in conspiracy theories, he seized every opportunity to tell bizarre tales of the supernatural—curses, reincarnation, aliens, ghosts; you name it, he often had what he claimed to be firsthand encounters to tell about them.
"Hey, Shinji, has Ren arrived?"
"I'm not sure. Ask Kenta."
"Hey, gramps, have you seen Ren? I need his charger."
"Restroom, I think. Matte, who are you calling gramps?"
Nakamura Kazuki was the oldest in the group, a year older than most of his classmates. Distinctly quiet and collected, he's a man of few words.
But not timid. Yuki had known him before Ren's family moved to Kashiwazaki from Tokyo. Unlike Ren, however, Kazuki rarely hung out with Yuki.
He only visited Yuki's house on special occasions. But they were close friends. Yuki even considered him his best friend. But what about Ren, you ask? Well, let's just say Yuki didn't consider him a mere friend.
Downstairs, Yuki's class had a much lighter and more laid-back setting. It was girl-dominated. Some teachers even teased them, suggesting their class was an extension of Joshi Gakuen.
Only six were boys, and Yuki was only close to two—Sato Ryota and Ikeda Yuto. Yuki had known them since elementary but only got along with them in school because their homes were far apart.
Despite having a small gang, Yuki wasn't shy around his other classmates. It's true what they say about being with a particular group of people for a long time. You'd eventually become comfortable around them, no matter how reclusive you are.
But sometimes, when there are bullies in the class and no one is saying anything, some students do pull the shutters down.
In Yuki's case, no one in his class had a troubled life lashed out at others. He was not a victim of bullying or overwhelmed by conformity pressure. He was simply more introverted than others.
He preferred spending time alone and keeping to himself. But ask him about manga, video games, and other stuff he was interested in, and he would gladly fill you in.
YOU ARE READING
Killing Yuki
Horror...fully exposing his well-sculpted physique. The fine hair near the bulging bicep creates a stark contrast with the smooth, radish-white armpit. The bright light in the room failed to obscure the fine groove dividing his well-defined chest in half...