The first victims.

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This takes place before the anime, my own concept of how it all began. Nishi is my favorite character, and I really wanted to write it so that he was the first to appear in the Gantz room, along with the first group of people, all of which are my own. I've tried to mostly keep situations relevant to the anime series, but seeing as information on Nishi, and his previous life was rather vague; I had to base some parts off the manga. I haven't read all of the manga, so I only know certain details. I will try my very best, please be kind, and enjoy!

An old man, dressed in brown, loose-fitting pants, and a long beige coat, waded through one of the many busy Tokyo streets, carrying a bag of groceries with a smile on his face. His wife was waiting for him at home, so he quickened his pace. The old man stared up ahead, determination in his expression, but failed to notice the uneven path; he stumbled with a yelp, and the groceries fell.

His glasses slipped from his face and slid along the sidewalk the moment he landed. With a slight groan of embarrassment, the old man looked up with blurred vision and reached out in front of him for the spectacles. Many people rushed past, too caught up in their own lives to notice his predicament, but the old man continued to look, and the fact that no one managed to step on him or trip over his crouched form surprised him.

Clink.

Oh.

The old man knew exactly what that sound was; instead of stepping on him, they stepped on his only source of sight, which made him feel extremely pathetic considering his background.

He moved toward the sound and grasped the lenses; stumbling to his feet, he brought the specks close to his face, only to inspect the damage with a sigh. "I'll have to somehow make it home without them," he said to himself, and suddenly, the need to return to his wife became overwhelming.

"Watch where you're going, old man," he heard a rude remark when he accidentally stumbled into someone before moving away to the left.

"I apologize," he replied quickly and took a few steps back.

Suddenly, he heard a loud horn and turned his head in confusion, bright lights clouded his already fading vision, and he raised his arms to try and shield himself from the offending light, unaware that he was standing in the middle of the road. Another horn echoed loudly, and the oncoming vehicle stopped abruptly before skidding sidewards and tipped at a slow pace. The old man felt a sharp painful impact against his side when the vehicle crashed into him. Screams erupted as the truck continued to skim further before halting near a cross intersection, causing the motorist to burst through the windshield, eyes wide and lifeless, already dead.

An explosion soon followed from the more substantial part of the truck, drowning out the onlooker's cries of horror; fires began to erupt, and people immediately tried to disperse to safety.

A young girl with shoulder-length brown hair, dressed in a black waistcoat and dark-blue jeans, medium height, with a slim figure, stood on the right side of a road, one mile from the accident. She stared in shock and wondered how many people died from the explosion. Suddenly, she felt a rough pull on her arm, which forced her to turn around; her eyes widened with fear as she fixed her gaze up at the familiar male in front of her.

The male screamed in her face. "Why'd you run out on me, you little bitch!"

The girl frantically shook her head and replied hastily, "I didn't, I swear!" How did he catch up to her this fast? She tried to shove him off, but his grip was firm on her arm, and fingers dug painfully into her skin.

"Lying whore!"

She winced and let out a cry of protest, "Please, stop it, you're hurting me!" She wondered if leaving him this way was the right decision.

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