Set in modern day Japan, Hak, only 17 has experienced more pain in the entirety of his whole life than most people in his down stricken building estate. Hak's only goal in life is to live by his Uncle's house rules and to put a bolt lock on his murd...
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The thumping and thrashing of the infirm bus as it managed to hit every pothole possibly located on the road, was building up my migraine.
As we approached St. Kio's High, students filtered out of the bus in a disorderly mass, bumping and crashing into each other. Cursed phrases flew around as well as uncontrollable laughter, as the mob gingerly went about their day without a single worry etched on their faces. Teenagers. It was impossible to deny that I was in fact a teenager. I could leap out of this bus right now, join my peers, and participate in a day's worth of curricular activities. But to what result? To merely appease the requirements of most adolescents? I could close my eyes and envision the entirety of Hak's fun-filled school day: three run-ins with people I've screwed over in the past, at least five teachers interrogating me on why I haven't attended school for the last two weeks, at least two encounters with females who are bewildered as to why I couldn't provide them with the efficient amount of attention they so desire, a minimum of four trips to the bathroom to ensure my rage would not get the best of my mental faculties leading to me then saying 'screw it, someone's getting my fist today,' probably three confrontations with various douchebags leading to an enticing fight in the school yard with all my lovely school peers gathered in a circle cheering their full support, which finally would result in one overall trip to the nurse's office as my hand would look and feel too immobile to display a good grip of a pen let alone write anything in a class textbook.
I opened my eyes to catch the descending image of my fellow peers rolling by, as the bus made its hasty move. I suppose my decision was made.
Ten minutes passed until I noticed my stop approached.
"Mummy, why is that man's face all scratched up?"
"Shh, don't go near him, Kyo."
The irritating racket of a mother and her puny kid discussing my existence seemed to silence the mouths of everyone on the bus. My knife could cut blocks out of the tension in the air. As I stood from my seat the mother engulfed her son in her arms as the rest of the passengers practically quivered in their seats. Jheeze, these people are dramatic as hell. I looked over as the kid peaked through his mother's seemingly safe arms. Scared? They should be.
I snarled at the boy, watching him practically wailing at the sight of my scarred face. Pathetic.
***
The door's entry chime made a distinctive 'ding' as I pushed open the door of Kuroitoshi's most 'admirable' butcher's shop. Sarcasm really is my forte. The foul reek of a selection of meats seemed to kick start my morning for me. Flinch's store was a sight. My sights lingered on the deceased animals--peeled and diced--as they were displayed in glass casements, with the unwelcoming sight of frail chickens hung on display hooks with a look of despair. In addition, I couldn't help noticing that the floors were slippery with a certain grime that felt a tad gritty under my shoe.
