Ginji

The awakening of Ginji

~ Ginji ~

Today is my birthday. It's meant to be a happy occasion, but I've never really cared for the day on which I was born. Mum and dad always make a fuss, but my annoying sister just pulls my scraggy hair for the number of years I've been alive. Today she'll yank it twelve times.

For me to be awakened by the sound of the morning radio pinging on my digital alarm clock is unusual. Normally, my mum bursts into my room, complains about the mess, and then the radio pings on.

I'm not even greeted by the lush smell of food that always scents the house first thing in the morning. Mum always cooks blueberry pancakes and bacon for me and dad. My sister wants to keep her figure, so she's switched to eating bland oats.

Looking at the digital clock, I can see if I don't get a move on I'm going to be late for school. With a heavy thud on top of the gadget, I switch it off. I'm not one to listen to music at first light.

My name is Ginji and I live in the very heart of Japan, Tokyo. I'm your typical pasty faced young scrawny twig of a thing with scraggy, medium length black hair that my mum is always making a fuss over with a brush.

I'm the type of kid girls won't even glance at, or so my big sister says. Then again, even guys won't come near me. I have no friends, but no one would dare pick on me, they just whisper behind my back, too scared to say anything to my face.

Forgot to mention I would hold the world title for the messiest bedroom. Like seriously, I can't move in my small room. It's so littered with clothes, books, and various toys, that no one would notice the heavy varnished oak flooring underneath it all.

Two katana hang on my wall by the side of a window overlooking the cherry blossom tree at the back of our home. These blades are my pride and joy, the only thing in my room kept immaculately clean and of course, sharp.

I bounce around on one leg as I try my damn hardest to put on the black socks I found lying in the top of a draw. Next, comes the rest of my school uniform, which is scattered around my messy room. I almost break my neck tripping over my anime magazines, which are more prized than my hidden porn stash. Every guy has one of them, right?

Finally dressed, I bolt out of my bedroom, slamming the door shut as I put on my lime green blazer. Something doesn't feel right as I stand in the hallway. The family dojo is too quiet.

My family owns Japan's most renowned kendo dojo and my dad is proud of the title. Even prouder that I had won it for him. Sure, I'm only twelve, but I'm a master of the sword. So far I haven't met my equal and I'm unbeaten even against adults.

Taking my first step down the wooden hallway stairs leading directly into my kitchen, I hear my mum scream, followed by a loud bang. Surely I misheard. That couldn't have been a gunshot, right? Either way, my instincts urge me to rush downstairs.

Like a cat, I leap from the top step to the bottom, narrowly missing hitting my head on the wall hanging over the stairs like a dangling concrete sword.

Mum lay on the blue tiled kitchen floor behind the dark top breakfast bar, all the colour drained from her face and her hair a mess. What happened? Fear roots me to the spot. Try as I might to move towards her, I can't. And even if I could, what good would it do me? She... she has a bullet hole through the middle of her beautiful face.

Oh dear god! What do I do? Mum! My mum is dead! And the killer? The killer is still here. How do I know the killer is still lurking? Because my sister is shrieking and crying in the living room. Sis, I'm coming, hang on! Mum, I'm so sorry!