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Takemichi screwed up. He screwed up big time. This was awful, tremendously so , he wanted to dig a hole and throw himself in there.
He knew. After many tutor sessions with Hina, Takemichi knew . He knew way before the tutor sessions actually—his exam marks said a lot throughout school. Takemichi wasn’t the brightest. His math teacher hated him and he could really care less about old people poem.
But still.
Age fifteen, first year in high school. May 2nd, 2008. That day was just a usual Friday, the weather alright and all. Since Hina was busy with a group project, Takemichi thought he could hang out with Chifuyu and the bros. Akkun had something to do and Chifuyu was signing up for a part time job, so they decided to meet up later in the evening—in other words, Takemichi had two hours to spend before heading over to the karaoke.
It was a Friday. A good, old Friday. Chilling outside of a convenience store, an hour passed and the city began to darken. For once, Takemichi's head was free of muddled thoughts, and that should be a good sign, right?
Haha.
Clearly not.
“Takemichi?”
The teen turned around in reflex. In hindsight, he should’ve known. Chifuyu told him so much about his future-self’s escapades, it would only make sense he would remember the very little details , right? But yeah.
He didn’t.
For one, Takemichi didn’t recognize the guy’s voice. It was a bit low—gruffy… And secondly, seriously? Of course he wouldn’t remember! Sure, Chifuyu told him like—a few months ago, BUT STILL!!
He didn’t tell anyone, but those months since learning the truth was agonizing. Just think about—the you twelve (... Ten, he supposed) years from the future hopped back into the past, trying to fix things left and right to save your girlfriend and all the friends he made along the way. Without your knowledge, of course, and without taking a step back and wondering if your past-self was going through existential crises because of the constant black-outs oh kami that was horrible.
Chifuyu ended up telling him, though. The PG version, or whatever. Takemichi didn’t know. At the very least, Fuyu gave him the important bits—like how Takemichi ended up becoming the Black Dragon’s 11th Generation Commander, which was like, what , and etc. Takemichi wasn’t the type to believe in the supernatural, but he’d take that explanation. Absolutely. It answered a lot, as a matter of fact.
(... Like Hina’s gaze. She was waiting for him, probably. The future-him.)
So then—his current predicament. After a month of agonization (he really didn’t want to worry anyone right now, because that would seriously… Seriously , be so pathetic), all the mushy thoughts finally subsided for the day. It did. It was so freeing. Just awesome. So with that, why the hell would Takemichi even think hey, maybe I met this guy when my future-self was possessing me, better not act like a weirdo, and then proceed to bring back all the frustrating voices again?!
Either way.
At the call of his name, Takemichi, the Takemichi-who-only-recently-learned-of-the-truth-behind-his-black-outs, and was-only-thinking-about-what-should-he-and-the-pals-get-for-dinner, turned around.
And he blinked.
He blinked again.
What struck him first was the ragged scar cutting from top of a shaved head to the left eye. Then, it was just… The aura , he supposed, that the other was emitting. The guy who called out to him was tall. Menacing, but the look within mismatched eyes didn’t show any signs of hostility. At first glance, Takemichi figured that people would label him a delinquent right away. This long earring thing was hanging below his right lobe, though he wasn’t wearing a gang uniform. Just casual clothes.
Takemichi squinted.
“Ka… Kaku-chan?!”
A sense of surprise and… Ecstasy, hit him. It was this bubbly kind of excitement—because, because hell, it had been so long!! How many years was it?!
Memories of his early childhood quickly caught up. He nearly wanted to cry.
Kaku-chan.
Kaku-chan made a small smile.
“How’ve you been, Takemichi?”
Maybe, just maybe, Takemichi had some beef with his future-self. One sided beef. He really shouldn’t complain, rather, it was extremely ungrateful to be upset—but, but… To recognize that the relationships you currently have were because of someone else—it wasn’t exactly a good feeling.
Some part of him wanted to scream.
Don’t give me false hope, or something like that.
So reuniting with Kaku-chan was a blessing. At least, during these five minutes, it was. After that Takemichi plummeted back to hell.
… Short lived happiness, huh.
He was being dramatic.
They chatted. Talked about the weather, school and lack of school (wasn’t sure if Kaku-chan was just skipping or… He didn’t know, maybe never got into high school)... Takemichi was curious how the other got that scar, but he knew better than to ask insensitive questions.
There was a certain sense of elation. Because this , these were Takemichi’s earliest memories. Before Takuya it was Kaku-chan, and Kaku-chan and him were bros . Unaffected by his memory-gaps, this was, undoubtedly, an untouched image of the past.
That was his first mistake. Takemichi was dumb that way. He wanted to just… Punch himself, but well…
But well.
They laughed, knocked each others’ shoulders as they walked along. Takemichi felt like a kid again. Drunk with joy, blue eyes gazed up to the night sky.
“Man,” he breathed. “But it’s been like, how long? I haven’t seen you since second grade, since you moved and all. This is amazing , Kaku-ch—”
“Take...michi?”
Takemichi snapped his jaw shut.
Looking down from the sky, the teen turned towards the taller.
There was a strange expression on Kaku-chan’s face. It was… Almost, confused. Concerned.
“Uh,” Takemichi started. This was very, very weird. “Erm, I mean—”
Suddenly, it hit him.
… Oh.
His blood went cold.
Oh.
Kaku-chan shifted uncomfortably at where he stood. Eyes narrowed, his eyebrows were all pinched up.
“Takemichi, you…”
“Uh—I mean,” eyes wide, Takemichi swallowed. “Um, like, uh—”
His mind raced.
When did future-me meet him? When was it? Chifuyu said — it’s not Bloody Halloween, probably. Not Christmas, that was the Black Dragon. So, so when… When did they… Tenjiku…? Was it then? I don’t remember. Fuck.
The silence was deafening. Neon lights surrounding them, cars swished past as hoards of people crowded the streets. Takemichi blinked hard. He couldn’t breathe.
He screwed up.
He screwed up terribly.
“... Hey,” his ears caught the other’s voice, but Takemichi—for some reason, he couldn’t really process it. His mind was just all lodged up, he couldn’t even—see—
A small tap on the shoulder. Something like electricity struck through him, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
“Hey, Takemichi,” fingers pressed on Takemichi’s left shoulder, it remained there, firm and steady. Kakucho sounded concerned. Concerned and...
Guilty...?
He blinked.
Eyes unclouding, Takemichi blinked again before trying to look up. The lights around them were hurting his eyes. Blue eyes squinted.
... Hell.
Kakucho looked like he was practically drenched in guilt.
“I…” Kakucho fumbled with a few words. “We hadn’t talked in a bit, but… Did, did I, uh…”
The next part came quietly.
“Punch you too hard…?”
…
Huh?
“Punch…?” Takemichi’s mouth moved on autopilot.
Letting go of Takemichi’s shoulder, Kakucho scratched the back of his head.
“Erm. Y’know. Remember when, uh… Our gangs were fighting. Two years ago. We were facing off, and I… Punched you. A lot. In the face.”
“... You did?”
Kakucho’s face turned pale.
Suddenly, Takemichi had an urge to laugh.
“... Nah, I remember,” the teen said instead. Eyes closed, he shook his head with a smile.
“Sorry, I just got caught up in the moment. Y’know, high school stress and stuff like that? Busted my brain so many times trying to study. Been a year or two, right? You still in a gang?”
Hesitantly, Kakucho nodded. Takemichi smiled wryly.
Unconvinced, huh.
“South,” Kakucho answered. “Rokuhara Tandai. Takemichi… You have no intention of returning to the world of delinquency, right?”
Blinking slowly, Takemichi returned the nod.
“Yeah.”
Kakucho furrowed his eyebrows.
“I see. Then, if by chance, you do… Promise me, you’ll come to South.”
Blue eyes blinked again.
“... How come?”
The teen wasn’t sure why he asked. Rather, he could guess why Kaku would invite him of all people, but still.
Exhaling from his nose, Kakucho bowed his head down. It wasn’t really a bow. Alas, his head only tilted a few degrees downwards, but the message was delivered.
From what Takemichi remembered of him, Kaku-chan never lowered his head.
Eyes fierce, Kakucho was serious.
(... Though, he knew. The look within those mismatched eyes wasn’t for him. Not this Takemichi, at least.)
“Right now, there are three gangs in control of Tokyo. One of them is South… The other, Kanto Manji, is led by Mikey. At last there is Brahman, that group is deeply tied with the 1st Generation Black Dragon.
“Takemichi. If by any chance you do return to this world, come to South. Please.”
There were words left unsaid. No longer bowing, Kakucho stood up straight. His shoulders… They were really broad. There was a certain weight being carried... Takemichi wouldn't know what it was.
For some reason, the old bullet wound at his left foot began aching. Takemichi lowered his eyes.
“... Mm, okay.”
He grinned. The corners of his lips hurt.
“I do promise that I'll definitely not come back though, so don’t ya worry ‘bout that.”
A few beats later, Kakucho returned the smile.
“... Yeah.”
“Stay safe, Kaku-chan.”
“You, too.”
Parting ways, Takemichi spotted Akkun and the others. He waved his hand and quickly caught up to them.
The karaoke bar they frequented was closed for the day. Slightly disappointed, they ventured to the arcade instead.
Asking Chifuyu about Kakucho, it seemed that the future-him and his childhood friend really did have some sort of show down. The war between Toman and Tenjiku… Kakucho, physically, was leagues stronger than Takemichi. Chifuyu was worried that Takemichi would die, but because of his determination, that undying refusal to give in...
Toman survived.
“Kakucho nearly died—Kisaki shot him. He shot again, but Izana… You know the rest. After that, I think you visited him at the hospital. Though if you did, I don’t know what you two talked about.”
Lips pursed, Chifuyu glanced at Takemichi.
Staring up at the arcade’s dark and dusty ceiling, the older teen only hummed. The air conditioning was strong here.
“I may have embarrassed myself,” Takemichi admitted.
Realizing what he probably meant, Chifuyu paused a bit before patting his back.
“Oii!!” Makoto called over his shoulder. “Takemichi, your turn!”
Takemichi got up and grabbed the striker. A few rounds of air hockey later, the muddled thoughts slowly came back.
They were like waves. He remembered going to the ocean once, with Mom and Dad. One of his old souvenirs came from there, though of course, it was destroyed like the rest of his memories.
Takemichi could tell them. Reveal the truth.
The thoughts plagued him, but he entertained the idea. He envisioned himself saying the script word for word:
It was my future-self.
I’m not the one who was there.
… He could.
But for the next ten years, he’d be the one here. And—not to mention, he had lied to them for like, two years. Once they learn the truth, how would they look at him? They were like two different people, him and his future-self.
Perhaps Takemichi was just scared.
If it was him, the him as he was right now, he’d run. Unlike his future-self who stood his ground (against Kiyomasa. Against Shiba Taiju, against Tenjiku and Kaku. Izana. Kisaki. Mikey ), Takemichi...
Thirteen year old Takemichi would run. Fifteen year old Takemichi would.
The old bullet wound began throbbing again. He didn’t pay attention, but Chifuyu was sending him concerned glances. He did that often, since the beginning.
What he wasn’t aware of the most, however, was the furrowed look Akkun sent his way.
Switching out with Chifuyu, Takemichi rubbed the back of his left hand. He mused at how roughed up his knuckles were. It was only a miracle that his face wasn’t as disfigured…
A chorus of cheers sounded as Yamagishi finally scored a point.
But, yeah.
It was laughable, him and these horrible thoughts.