Chapter Text
This is a world where most people see challenges through their lives, they’re blind to what’s ahead. Not knowing how the future would look like for them and other people. She walked with a burden, one that no one understands. She has a gift, though she often wondered if it was more of a curse. The future, uncertain among others, wasn’t hidden from her, She could see it, but not in its entirety. In fact, her vision came in fragments, and when she least expects them. Those visions are brief yet vivid, informing her of what was to come.
Does anyone know? No. After all, how could she, when the visions are so heavy, yet impossible to change? But there was definitely no denying that they shape her thoughts, decisions and even mindset.
Her first vision of that day was of a man, an ordinary office worker with tired eyes and slumped shoulders, currently walking in the street in front of her. He was just another person in the corporate machine, yet she saw what he wasn’t able to see. In 27 years, he would die, alone, unnoticed, at the desk where he has sacrificed his life for work. His heart, mind and body would give out, worn out by his relentless grind.
The second vision of the day was even more tragic. It was a woman this time, in a few days, she would win a lottery ticket. Her joy at that moment was overwhelming. But the woman would not be able to see what’s ahead of her. That the newfound wealth would be her undoing. In five years, all the money went down the drain, squandered on fleeting pleasures and false friends. She would end up on the streets, dying alone and forgotten. It just reminds us of how tragic, and how quickly a fortune can turn.
These visions, she couldn’t care less about them. Not anymore. After all, all they did was fill her with a sense of helplessness. Being able to see the future, yet being powerless to change it. The future flows, it is like a river, flowing relentlessly toward its inevitable end, yet she is all but a witness.
She never shared this burden with anyone, in this world of scepticism, she knew telling others would put her straight to the mental facility. But as she walked through the bustling city, she knew that these visions, whether she liked them or not, were a part of her. They were her constant companions, which shaped the way she saw the world and the people in it.
As she prepared to face whatever the future held, she couldn’t help but to think to herself, Was it better to know what was coming or to simply live in blissful ignorance, unburdened by the knowledge of what was to come? As these thoughts lingered in her mind, she wanders off aimlessly through the corridors of an unfamiliar school.
The place felt like a maze, with deserted hallways stretching out before her. The final bell had long since rung, making the grounds eerily quiet.
As she stepped outside, the distant sound of shouting reached her ears, attracting her toward the edge of the school grounds, where a crowd had gathered. With their voices, a mix of excitement and anticipation. Curious, She moved closer, until she found herself at the edge of a circle.
In the centre of the crowd stood two boys, with tension among them. One of them, tall and lean with an aggressive stance, had a wild look in his eyes. His lips spat out, “Let’s do this thing, I’m gonna slice you in three like a fish fillet.” His voice is confident, it’s as if he had already won the fight.
But before he could act, another boy, slightly shorter with tousled blond hair and a look of absolute determination, stepped forward and shouted “WAIT!” His voice cracked slightly, but the desperation in it, impossible to miss.
The tall boy hesitated, thrown off by the interruption, while the crowd buzzed with confusion. “What the hell, asshole?” someone muttered from the sidelines.
The blond-haired boy took a deep breath, his fist clenched at his sides. Then he spoke louder this time, “Isn’t it boring to have the same old fights all the time? Wouldn’t you rather see something more exciting?”
The crowd murmured in response, some intrigued, however most of them annoyed and sceptical. “The fuck you doing?” another voice snarled, but the boy remained resolute.
The tall boy’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of annoyance and curiosity. “Something more interesting?” he repeats after the resolute boy, his tone a mix of amusement and challenge.
The blond’s eyes were filled with fear, yet there was a strange resolve in them, a determination that seemed to defy logic. “How about the king vs. the slave?” he challenged, his voice firm despite the tremor beneath it.
“Hah?” The boy acting as the referee looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to make sense of the proposal.
“The fuck does that mean?” grumbled the student standing beside the referee.
She could hear the whispers spreading throughout the onlookers. “No way… Takemichi..!?” someone muttered in disbelief, while another repeated “Oi, oi, oi, oi,” as if trying to grasp the gravity of the situation.
The blond-haired boy took another step forward, his gaze locked on the taller one “Kiyomasa-senpai, let’s have a one-on-one fight.” he said, clenching his fist forward, his voice steady even as the tension around them grew.
The taller boy’s grin returned, more menacing than before. “Don’t regret this later.” he warned before driving his fist into the blond-haired’s boy’s gut with brutal force.
The blond-haired boy doubled over in pain, gasping for breath as he staggered backwards. The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers, mocking his weakness. Frankly, it was unbearable to see. “Kill his ass!” someone shouted, while the crowd started chanting, “Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!”
The taller boy didn’t hesitate, he advanced on the blond-haired boy with a series of blows that left him battered and bleeding. The crowd kept cheering for the taller boy.
This is genuinely unbearable to see, how could they keep cheering at a person beating up another one sidedly…? She thought to herself as she clenched her fist.
“That’s enough!! Takemichi, you’ve done enough!” yelled one of the blond-haired boy’s friend from the sidelines, his voice strained with worry.
But the blond-haired boy wasn’t finished. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. “Not yet…” he gasped, refusing to back down.
“Why would he go this far against someone who’s obviously way stronger than him?” a spectator wondered aloud in disbelief. .
The blond-haired boy gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand despite the pain wracking his body. “I ain’t giving up! I have a reason to not give up!” he shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with resolve.
His friends pleaded with him to stop, but he ignored them, his gaze fixed on his opponent. A defiant grin spread across his face, blood staining his teeth. “The only way for you to defeat me,” he rasped, “is to kill me.”
The crowd fell silent for a moment, stunned by the sheer willpower of the boy who refused to surrender, even in the face of certain defeat.
She stood at the edge of the crowd, spectating the fight unfolding before her. The chaos surrounding her, the jeers of the crowd, the thud of hitting fists, and the sharp intake of gasps and breaths as each blow lands and connects with flesh. It all faded into the background as she focused on the boy with the blond, tousled hair. The one who seems like an oddball amidst all the violence surrounding him.
His determination is clear, even as he takes blows and hits over and over again. His resolve stays unwavering despite the overwhelming odds.
She focused, expecting the familiar sensation to appear, the one that always arrives when she glimpses someone’s future. Usually, it feels like flipping through the pages of a book, or seeing snapshots of what’s yet to come. Strangely, as she focused on him, trying to see beyond the present, her mind turned blank.
Panic seems evident in her features, and she tried again, this time with more effort, willing herself to see something. But all she was met with was a blank void, an emptiness where his future should have been.
No way, she thought, her heart beginning to race as the realisation set in. This hasn’t ever happened before. Why can’t I see his future?
The unsettling silence in her mind left her feeling rather vulnerable, it was not a feeling she came across a lot. Her gift, or rather curse as she often thought of it, had never failed her. It was one thing that was always constant to her, it allowed her to glimpse on the paths that is ahead for the people around her. But now, staring at this boy who refused to back down, she was met with nothing but an unsettling void.
She glanced around, the crowd was absorbed in the spectacle before them, completely and utterly clueless to the turmoil swirling inside of her. The boy, Takemichi, as she heard someone whisper, he continued to stand his ground. It looked like it didn’t matter to him, even as he was beaten down yet again, and again, and again. His resolve seemed otherworldly, unusual. It’s as if he is driven by a force she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
Countless questions arrived in her mind. Why him? Why now? She has seen countless futures, while some are bright, others are truly tragic, but never has she encountered a blank slate. It felt like a complete mystery to her, it’s as if his future was hidden from her.
The thought of uncertainty gave her the chills, the idea that perhaps, might be something, or someone, beyond her understanding. It made her wonder, for the first time in forever, if there were forces that she couldn’t see that were at play. As she watched him, she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever lay ahead. It wasn’t like anything she had ever encountered before, it was far beyond.
As she stood at the edge of the chaos, watching the brutal scene happen right in front of her, a sickening feeling churned in the pit of her stomach. The taller boy, one who seems to enjoy every punch he delivered, was definitely taking things too far. The boy at the receiving end, Takemichi, was barely holding himself upright, yet he’s reluctant to stand down to the authority in front of him. Blood stained his face, yet there was something in his eyes, a fierce determination that refused to surrender at all cost.
Her heart was racing as she wrestled with her own thoughts. It’s because she has never been one to intervene in conflicts. She’s accustomed and always prefers the safety of her distance, relying on the foresight that her gift provided. But as she came to the close realisation that the gift she had betrayed her, leaving her completely blind as to what might happen next, it sets a feeling of unease and a sense of dread as she realised just how far the fight is going. The tall boy’s punches were no longer simply “asserting dominance” rather they carried a lethal intent. It had a desire to break Takemichi completely.
As another punch connected with Takemichi’s midsection, sending him staggering back, something inside her snapped. She simply couldn’t stay a spectator as the brutality of the scene overwhelmed her fear of the unknown. Then and there, before she knew it, she was moving, pushing her way through the crowd.
Her legs felt heavy, every step forward was a battle against her own fears and instincts, all of them warning her to stay away. But she couldn’t, as the sight of Takemichi crumpling to the ground, gasping for breath, pushed her forward. Her hands trembled as she got closer and closer to the edge of the fight. Then, without fully thinking it through, she stepped between the 2 boys, her heart racing wildly in her chest.
“Are you crazy? Are you trying to kill him!?” she shouted, her voice shaking with a twinge of fear and anger. She planted herself in front of Takemichi, her back to him, as she faced down the taller boy. Up close, she understood that what Takemichi did took a bundle of courage as the taller boy looked more intimidating. His fists were still clenched, knuckles raw from the repeated punches against Takemichi’s body.
The boy—Kiyomasa, she heard someone whisper in the crowd, stopped in his tracks, a look of surprise flashing across his features before it twisted into something darker. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as they raked over her with a predatory gleam. “You’ve got guts stepping in here, girl,” he sneered, his voice low and dripping with malice. “You’re pretty, aren’t ya?”
She felt a wave of revulsion wash over her, but she held her ground, taking Takemichi’s persistence as her motivation. She refused to back down despite every single one of her instincts telling her to run. Kiyomasa’s gaze bore into her, a twisted smirk curling his lips as he assessed her. The crowd whispered at each other, however all their eyes are now on her, waiting to see what would happen next.
Kiyomasa’s smirk widened as he took a step closer, his voice dropping an octave to a dangerous whisper “Oi, get her out of the ring,” he ordered, his tone filled with a sickening amusement. “But don’t let her go anywhere. I want to make sure to fuck her brains out once I’m done killing this piece of shit.” He turned his head slightly, addressing someone behind him. “Bring me my bat.”
Her blood ran cold at his words, the air around her seeming to thicken with the weight of the threat. She could feel the stares of everyone in the crowd, some shocked, while others hungry for the violence that was sure to follow. Her mind raced, she had to protect Takemichi, even if she didn’t know how.
Her voice caught in her throat, yet she forced herself to speak again. Her words this time are a mix of desperation and defiance. “You are not going to touch him.” she said, hoping it sounded final and fearless. She had no idea what she was doing, or how she could possibly stop what was coming, but she knew she couldn’t stand by and watch it happen.
Several of the boys approach her, and they try to drag her out of the ring. She felt a surge of panic, as their grips were rough, their intentions clear. They were going to force her out and give her up to Kiyomasa after Kiyomasa beat the shit out of Takemichi. Her heart raced, and she fought back with everything she had.
It was then, she saw someone approaching the scene, commanding and impossible to ignore. The grip on her arms loosened as the 2 boys hesitated, giving majority of their attention to the newcomer who just arrived.
“Oi, Kiyomasa,” a deep voice called out, cutting through the thick tension like a knife. The crowd parted slightly, revealing a tall figure with a dragon tattoo snaking down his temple. His blonde hair caught the fading light, and the aura around him was unmistakably one of authority. “You’ve drawn quite the crowd.”
The boys who had been holding her released her, stepping back as if they just touched and got pricked by a dozen red roses. She stumbled slightly, catching herself just in time to see the tall newcomer stride forward with an air of casual dominance.
“You sure are worked up, aren’t you?” the tall figure continued, his voice layered with a calm yet dangerous edge. “Even though you’re the host.”
The boy who was dishing out the brutal beatings moments ago now seemed to shrink in the presence of this man. Confusion turned visible in Takemichi’s eyes as he watched the exchange, clearly trying to make sense of who this man was and why he had such an impact on the crowd.
“Blonde hair… and a dragon tattoo on his temple,” someone in the crowd whispered, the words barely audible but clearly in awe. “No fucking way…”
“That’s the vice president of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Ryuuguji Ken, also known as Draken” another voice added.
“Hey, hey, Ken-chin,” a voice chimed in from behind Draken, very carefree, in comparison to the tension that had filled the air moments before.
“Hah? Don’t call me by that nickname, Mikey,” Draken replied, his tone sharp but this time, it carried an undertone of familiarity.
“All my Dorayaki is gone!” Mikey exclaimed, stepping forward into view. His appearance, very simple and almost boyish. Completely at odds with the intense aura he radiated. He looked so ordinary, yet there was something in his eyes, something that set him apart.
“The hell is up with that guy,” someone in the crowd muttered. “He can’t read the atmosphere at all.”
But as the confusion spread among spectators, a wave of recognition followed. One by one, the crowd began to bow, a sign of respect that deepened when Draken casually kicked Kiyomasa on his stomach, forcing him lower.
“When did you become so important, Kiyomasa?” Draken asked, his tone rough. “You’re seriously going to greet the president with that shallow bow?”
Kiyomasa’s face drained of colour as he hostility corrected himself, bowing lower, his earlier confident demeanour completely shattered. Draken’s gaze was unforgiving, and it was clear that the boy was trying to avoid further humiliation.
She watched this exchange with a mix of fascination and uneasiness, her eyes drawn to the 2 newcomers who had just shifted the entire mood on its head. There was a dangerous energy about them, one that set them apart from the rest of the gang. They were clearly in a position of authority, and from the whispers she caught, it was evident that they were feared and respected.
As she focused on them, trying to see their futures, she was met with a vision that sent a chill down her spine. The boy with the dragon tattoo, Draken, stood tall and proud in the present, in contrast to the vision that flashed before her eyes, he was lying in a pool of his own blood, his life slipping away in mere weeks.
The other boy, Mikey, was different, his future was shrouded in darkness, a void that promised a path of crime and destruction. She could see the glimpses of the horrors he would cause, the lives he would ruin, and it made her heart clench with dread.
Mikey’s gaze shifted, locking onto Takemichi. There was something almost playful in his eyes as he tilted his head, studying the beaten boy with a curious expression.
“What’s your name?” Mikey asked, his tone light, almost as if he were asking about the weather.
Takemichi, still shocked from the beating and the sudden change in circumstances, stared up at Mikey with wide eyes. He seemed to struggle with the simple question, his mind unable to process everything that was happening. Finally, he managed to spit out his own name “Hanagaki Takemichi…”
Mikey nodded thoughtfully “I see… Takemichi…” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue.
“Huh?” Takemichi blinked, clearly confused by the sudden shift in attention.
Mikey didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “That’s what Mikey said, so that’s what it is, right? Takemichi?”
“Huh???” Takemichi repeated, even more shocked. The confusion in his voice echoed the thoughts racing through her mind as well, as nothing about this situation made any sense.
Mikey suddenly squatted down, bringing himself to Takemichi’s level. There was something casual about the way he moved, as if he were completely at ease in the midst of the chaos. He said something to Takemichi in a low voice, something she couldn’t quite make out, and he shifted his attention to her.
“And you?” Mikey asked, his gaze piercing through her. “Who are you?”
The weight of his stare made it especially difficult for her to find her voice. “Oh, my name is (Y/N)” she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly.
Mikey’s expression didn’t change, but there was a spark of interest in his eyes. He stood up again, a small smile playing on his lips. “From today on, you’re both my friends. Okay?”
The casualness of his declaration, as if he’s simply deciding the colour of the sky, left her stunned. Around them, the crowd seemed to wait to see what would happen next.. She glanced at Takemichi, who looked nearly twice as shocked as she felt, and then back at Mikey, whose smile only widened.
In that moment, she realised that she was no longer just an observer. Whatever paths these boys were on, whatever futures they carried, she was now a part of it. And as she glanced into Mikey’s eyes, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more dangerous and unpredictable than anything she had ever seen.
Mikey’s attention shifted from (Y/N) to Kiyomasa, his smile never disappearing. “So you’re the one who organised this little ‘fighting ring,’ huh?” Mikey’s voice was deceptively calm, almost casual, but there was an undertone of menace that made Kiyomasa’s bravado falter.
Kiyomasa, who had been trying to maintain his composure, suddenly seemed much smaller under Mikey’s penetrating gaze. His earlier arrogance had been gone by now, leaving behind only fear. “Y-yes,” he stammered.
For a brief moment, Mikey smiled. Then before anyone could react, he moved. The speed of his kick was almost supernatural, a blur of motion that hit Kiyomasa by surprise. The crowd barely had time to process what had happened before Mikey was on him again.
Without missing a beat, Mikey grabbed a fistful of Kiyomasa’s hair, yanking his hair back with a brutal tug. The sharp intake of breath from the onlookers echoed the sheer brutality of the moment. Mikey leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”
Kiyomasa’s eyes widened, this time in terror, but before he could respond. Mikey’s fist slammed into his face. It was clear from the sound, that Mikey wasn’t holding back.
THe onlookers could only watch in stunned silence, the earlier bravado and excitement of the fight long gone. The sheer force of Mikey’s punches sent shockwaves through the air, the crowd clearly flinching with each hit as if they could feel themselves getting hit.
Mikey didn’t stop, didn’t seem to tire. The more Kiyomasa tried to curl himself in, the more relentless the hits became, each punch carrying a message that was loud and clear: no one challenges him.
As Mikey’s fist continued their merciless punches against Kiyomasa, the reader felt an urgent pull within her, it told her to intervene. She acted on instinct, reaching out and gripping Mikey’s wrist when he swung it over to Kiyomasa. “Hey, that’s enough. Don’t you think so?” she demanded, her voice coming out firmer than she anticipated. Mikey’s gaze snapped to hers, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.
Then, it happened, a flicker, a sudden flash in her mind, like the rapid shutter of a camera capturing a scene from another time. She felt herself being drawn into a vision, pulled out of the present and thrust into a tangled web of images and emotions. There, in the future, she saw herself… with him.
In the glimpse of the future, she saw Mikey, his eyes softened by something unspoken, his hand brushing away a strand of her hair from her face. The setting was dim, intimate, an empty room bathed in the muted light of a setting sun. She could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned in close, his touch both gentle and possessive. There were moments when he held her, when his hands cradled her face as if she were something precious. In those fleeting instants, he seemed almost vulnerable, defenceless.
Yet the vision shifted like shadows in the dark. Just as quickly, the tenderness would vanish, replaced by a darker intensity. She saw the flicker of anger in his eyes, a dangerous glint that sent shivers down her spine. There were moments when his grips tightened, when it was obvious that he was fighting some sort of inner battle. SHe could hear the echoes of raised voices, feel the tension in the air thick enough to cut.
She saw herself standing on a knife's edge, between his moments of calm and spiralling rage. She saw the world around them shifting, changing. She felt the heartbreak, the fear, but also a powerful, inexplicable love that pulled her closer to him, a love that made her stay even when every instinct screamed for her to run.
Her future with him was a raging storm, a tragic love story written in shades of grey. There were nights when they clung to each other as if the world outside had ceased to exist. She saw his smile, rare yet bright, that melted his tough demeanour, the way his arms would wrap around her, strong and secure, making her feel like she was the only person who mattered. Unfortunately, those moments were fleeting, like whispers in a storm.
For every gentle touch, there was a bruise that lingered just beneath the surface. It was truly a contradiction. For every soft kiss, there was a flash of violence, a hint of darkness that threatened to consume him whole. She saw herself loving him desperately, trying to hold onto these rare flashes of light, knowing they were becoming increasingly rare as his darkness grew. She secretly knew, with a hollow ache in her chest, that their low was fragile, bittersweet, doomed to crumble.
As she snapped back to the present, the vivid images of her future slowly faded, leaving behind a heavy emotional weight on her chest. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, suddenly realising that her cheeks were damp with tears. Her hands were still gripping Mikey’s wrist, her fingers trembling slightly against his skin.
Mikey’s gaze, softened with a hint of confusion. He looked at her, taking in the sight of her teary eyes with a mixture of surprise and concern. The raw intensity of the moment seemed to blur around him, and he appeared to be struggling to understand the source of her distress.
“Why are you crying?” Mikey’s voice was low, edged with an unusual gentleness that absolutely contrasted with the violence that has been unfolding moments before. His eyes, which were previously filled with anger, now showed an unsettling vulnerability.
The reader blinked, her hands trembling slightly as she slowly lets go of Mikey’s wrist. She touched her cheek, feeling the wetness of her tears. “I-I don’t know,” she replied, the words feeling false even to her own ears.
Mikey’s gaze lingered on her, his perceptive eyes catching the subtlety of her distress. It was clear that he sensed she was concealing something, but instead of pressing, he offered a softer approach, “Come with us,” Mikey asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood in his own personal way.
(Y/N), still grappling with the overwhelming emotions and intense vision she had experienced, felt like she needed to process everything. With a polite tone, she declined his offer with a smile “Thank you, but I think I need some time to myself right now.”
Mikey nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He exchanged phone numbers whilst walking her home, it was a kind gesture. “Alright,” he said with a small, reassuring smile “If you need anything, just call.”
As Mikey and Draken leave, the reader stood there, feeling as if she was in a daze. The surreal quality of the moment left her feeling as if she were moving on autopilot. The weight of her vision, and the unexpected encounter with Mikey left her mind spinning, and she walked home in a daze. Her steps are automatic, and her thoughts are filled with a mess of confusion and emotion.