Chapter 1
“I’ve found him,” said a voice, peering through the crack of a classroom door. “Right where the intel said he’d be.”
Little did Kyosuke Miyamoto know that he was being watched. He had no reason to. If there was ever an average, ordinary high school freshman in an average, ordinary high school, it was him. Even average is probably an overstatement. Perhaps the only things he was good at was getting good grades and being a bit of a coward. If there was a checklist titled “Accomplishments and Ambitions”, most of them would have a big “NO” written in the margin, simply because a check wouldn’t convey the dissociation thoroughly enough. What could possibly be so special about him?
“Perfect.” A reply came through his earpiece.
“Any sign of the Hedgehog or Grandma?”
“That’s a negative. All clear.”
“Good. But keep an eye out. If one of them finds us, we’re dead.”
“Roger that. Remember, this needs to be a clean operation. Just observe him for now. We’ll make our move between class periods, using the hustle and bustle to our advantage. In and out, nice and easy. No funny business. No evidence.”
“Yeah, I got. I’m breaking audio communication. We’ll continue communication through texts”, he said, removing the earpiece from his ear and tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit. He checked the rest of his disguise. His clipboard was authentic, his suit, impeccable, and his mustache was as level as a painting on the wall. He was convincing. That’s all he needed to be. He reached down to check his gun, making sure it was tucked discreetly beneath his jacket. Locked and loaded, he thought. With a final, deep breath, he knocked on the door. A few moments later, it opened.
“Oh! You must be the inspector. Please, come in,” said the classroom teacher.
“Thank you,”, he said, stepping into the classroom.
“Everyone”, the teacher said to the class. “This is Mr…. uh…”
“Jones. You must be Mr. Ishikawa.”
“Ah, Mr. Jones. I must say, I didn’t expect you to be American. Yes, I’m Mr. Ishikawa,” said the teacher before turning to the class. “Mr. Jones is from the head office and will be inspecting our class today. Please, have a seat in the back,” gesturing towards a seat that had been prepared for him.
“Thank you.” He gave a quick nod and headed to the back of the classroom.
“Now, class will continue as usual. Now, Mr. Miyamoto. What’s the answer to this equation?”
This particularly average looking boy stood to attention. If there was anything that added to this boy’s uninspiring list of traits, it was his appearance. He wasn’t frail, but definitely feeble. He wasn’t scrawny, but there was little doubt that physical activity wasn’t on his list of daily activities. Average height, medium length hair for a boy, brushed to one side. Even standing and pushing in his desk chair lacked any sign of athleticism to convince a person otherwise. “The answer is…. “
“‘X’ equals seven,” said Mr. Jones under his breath.
“‘X’ equals seven,” said Kyo.
“Very good! The answer to ‘X’ when ‘Y = 0’ is seven,” said Mr. Ishikawa, enthusiastically writing the answer on the board, explaining the process to the rest of the class.
Smart kid, thought Mr. Jones.
“And, of course,” Mr. Ishikawa continued. “Increasing the exponent next to ‘X’ will give us a much different, much more complicated value for ‘X’ when ‘Y = 0’. But we don’t need to worry about that to….”
“4.59”, said Kyo as he sat down, looking slightly disoriented.
“I’m sorry?”, said Mr. Ishikawa.
“It would be 4.59,” Kyo weakly replied, slightly regretting speaking out in front of the class. “Approximately.”
Mr. Jones began punching in numbers on the glass screen of his cell phone, hidden behind the clipboard propped up in his lap. Wow, he thought, staring at his phone. Really smart kid.
“Ah, yes, well…,” said Mr. Ishikawa giving out a short chuckle of pride towards his student’s answer. “That’s a topic for another day.”
Mr. Jones lifted his head, trying to find some interest in the already familiar topic the teacher was demonstrating. He was unsure of what to do with himself, boredom quickly setting in. Just observe, he thought, knowing that there was still some time left in the class, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. I’m already ready to get out of this….
Jones quickly jolted to attention. He could sense that something was coming.
Achoo!
A window shot open. A gust of wind filled the room. The papers of students gained flight and zipped into the flow of the whirlwind. One of the girls near the window let out a screech. Jones’ hand was tucked in his jacket, resting on the handle of his firearm. He looked around the room frantically, ready to draw and take action. And then…
Nothing, he thought. The papers settled. The suspense subsided. There was nothing to be afraid of. Right?
“Oh, goodness,” said Mr. Ishikawa, moving to the window, chuckling, slightly amused at the commotion. “This wind is something, isn’t it?!” He pushed the window shut, reaching to latch it. “Huh? Why…. It broke the latch. Well, I’ll be…. Rin, bring me a paperclip from the middle drawer of my desk.” Jones leaned back into his chair slowly, removing his hand from his gun.
“That should do it,” said Mr. Ishikawa, fastening the window shut. “Well, now. That sure added some excitement to our day, didn’t it?” He chuckled, looking at his students as he moved to the chalkboard, expecting a glimpse of semi-entertained minds. But, of course, being a freshman class of high school students, there weren’t any.
Jones looked down and grabbed his phone, which had fallen to the floor, letting out a sigh of relief. It’s probably not important, but I’d better tell Ra…. Oh, a text. He opened it, and fear immediately shot through his body. It was as though the phone itself was a fork that had been lodged in a wall socket, sending an immobilizing shock from the tips of his fingers to his toes. GRANDMA! This is bad, he thought. What are my options? He quickly weighed them. He can hide. But where? There are students and there are desks. What could he possibly hide behind? There’s a back door. He could rush out as she walks in. That would work. Right? No. He’d make too much noise. Even if she didn’t notice, the students would. There was a courtesy knock at the door and it slid open without pause.
“Yes?” said Mr. Ishikawa looking at the door. The students, too, turned their gaze to the door.
Now’s my chance! Jones dove from his chair, hiding behind the last student seated in the column in front of him. He knelt down, keeping low, hoping that the woman who entered wouldn’t notice him. He looked up, peering towards the front of the room through a space between the seated student he was hiding behind and the bag hanging from her desk. The woman and Mr. Ishikawa were talking about something. Jones didn’t know what it was, nor did he care, as long as she didn’t see him.
“Sorry to bother you, class”, said the woman, addressing the students. She looked towards the back of the room, eyeing the out of place chair. She paused for just a second, as though something wasn’t quite right. Then, she left, closing the door behind her. Jones sighed.
That was too close, he thought. He began to lift his head, intent on gently sneaking back to his seat. But then, he paused. He knew someone was watching him. As he lifted his head, he made contact with another student, seated in the column next to the student he was hiding behind. He stared right at Jones with a look that begged the question, “What are you doing?” Now what? he thought. Thinking quickly, he reached down, grabbing a pencil from the floor. “Dropped it”, he said, holding up the pencil. It wasn’t his pencil, but who cares? If it was good enough to convince someone that he had a reason to be on the floor, it was good enough for him. The students face turned from bewilderment to something that resembled “how pitiful” as he turned back towards the front of the room.
Jones brushed his knees off, sitting back in his seat, unsure of which irritated him more: That he had dirtied his suit or had to hide like a coward for the sake of completing the objective. But the alternative was far worse, so he had best be thankful.
He leaned back in his chair, once again, as he continued to watch the teacher's lecture. He’d occasionally start scribbling on his clipboard or nod his head in agreement as the teacher spoke. He had to be convincing, after all. He most often checked his phone, trying to curb the boredom of passing time in any way he could. An additional twenty minutes or so passed and the bell finally rang.
“Alright, that’s all for today class. Thank you for coming today, Mr. Jones”, said Mr. Ishikawa from the front of the classroom.
Jones stood, slightly nodding as he smiled back towards the front of the classroom. Students stood, some leaving the classroom, others talking amongst themselves. Mr. Ishikawa collected his things and left the classroom. Jones sat down, pretending to write on his clipboard as his eyes returned to his phone. A few minutes passed. Alright, thought Jones. Showtime. Just as he thought this, Mr. Ishikawa returned to the classroom. “Oh, um, Mr. Miyamoto. Would you mind helping me with something for a moment?”
Kyo lifted his head, slightly surprised, but certainly willing to help his professor in need. “Of course”, he said, rising to his feet and following the professor.
Jones quickly rose to his feet and followed them. There were many students and teachers out and about in the hallways, making following the pair from a close distance quite easy. Jones lifted the collar of his jacket to his mouth as inconspicuously as he could. “I’m following them out”, he said. “No sign of the Hedgehog or Grandma.”
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Mr. Ishikawa, noticing Kyo looking down, rubbing his forehead between his thumb and index finger. Kyo lifted his head.
“I’m alright. I was just feeling a little lightheaded during class, but I think I’ll be ok.”
“I think you’ll be ok,” replied Mr. Ishikawa with a smile and a comforting pat on the back as they continued down the hallway.
“Oh! Mr. Ishikawa!”, a voice came from down the hall.
Jones immediately recognized who it was. He dashed for a nearby column to hide behind, placing his back against it and lifting his jacket collar once again, using the clipboard in his hand to block view of his mouth. “Contact. We have contact. The target and Makura Gaeshi have made contact with the Hedgehog. I’m going to keep a visual from a distance. I’ll contact you if backup is needed.” He released his collar and straightened his back, trying not to stand out too much amongst the crowd of students and occasional teachers. He listened intently, trying to catch a word here or there in the horde of noise, but it was useless from behind the pillar.
A few moments later, Jones held a deep breath as a figure walked by him and he remained unnoticed. He pulled up the collar of his jacket. “Alright, all clear. Continuing the escort.” He continued following the pair as they exited the main doors of the school. Grabbing the earpiece from his jacket pocket, he placed it back into his ear. “Passing through the secondary gate. Approaching the final gate. Is exfil clear?”
“The guard has been taken care of. Exfil is clear,” said a voice through the earpiece.
“I just need some help carrying some supplies from my van. My wife should have parked it right out front,” Mr. Ishikawa said to an unsuspecting Kyosuke.
“It’s no problem,” replied Kyosuke, unaware that someone was fast approaching from behind. As they walked down the long, narrow tree lined walkway towards the large gate of the schoolyard, Mr. Jones inched closer, narrowing the gap between himself and the pair in front of him. Since it was during school hours, the gate was shut and there was usually a guard keeping a watchful eye for delinquent students who wanted to ditch school. Jones eyed a large group of students participating in PE off in the distance, but they were too far away to be of any concern. Mr. Ishikawa and Kyo reached the gated entrance and used the small side door to exit. Mr. Jones was only a few feet away as he too crept silently through the door.
“There she is,” said Mr. Ishikawa approaching a van that still had its motor running, parked on the side of the road.
“This is your van?” asked Kyo, eyeing the advertisement for an AC repair service written in large, stylized lettering on the side.
“Well….,” said Mr. Ishikawa, approaching the rear of the van. Kyo positioned himself behind the van, ready to grab whatever sort of materials were needed from the back. Mr. Ishikawa grabbed the handle and quickly pulled the door open. “It’s not quite mine.” This answer puzzle Kyo a little, but he didn’t have time to ponder it. The opposite door flew open as well, taking Kyo by surprise. This was mainly because it had been pushed open by a spectacled man wearing a white lab coat from inside the van.
“Hey there, Kyo,” he said, looking at Kyo with a smirk on his face. He quickly reached out and touched Kyo on the forehead with the very tip of his index finger. Kyo tried to call out. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but as long as he could say something, it might be worth saying. But he couldn’t. His body was just too weak. His eyelids were just too heavy. As his legs gave way, he was caught from behind, but Mr. Ishikawa was standing next to him, looking down at him and smiling. He looked up at the man in the lab coat, wondering for just a fraction of a second who on earth this man could be. And that was the very last thing Kyo remembered. He was out cold.
Chapter 2
briiiiiiiiiing, his alarm clock complained. He reached over and beat on it a few times until it turned off. He heard his door creak open and, by the time he had tilted his head forward to see who is was, she was already uncomfortably close to his face.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KYOSUKE!!!”, she yelled.
“Thank you, Saki”
“It’s your birthday today!”
“I’ve noticed,” he said, letting his feet slide off the bed. He stood up and slowly drug himself toward the kitchen, the sound of tiny feet pitter-pattering down the hall ahead of him.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, Kyo. Happy Birthday,” said his mother, pushing some food from a frying pan onto a plate. He drug his feet over to the dinner table and plopped down. “You haven’t left yet?”
“Well, someone wanted to be sure to tell you happy birthday as soon as you woke up.”
The little girl smiled at her older brother as she put on her backpack, well aware that she was being talked about. He smiled back.
“Make sure you’re back by six today, OK? You can’t miss your own birthday dinner.”
“Mom, I’m turning sixteen, I don’t need a party or anything.”
“It’s not a party, it’s dinner with your family. And I already invited Ryu and Mitsuki.”
“You did?”, he asked, rubbing his eye and attempting to fight his morning grogginess by opening the other.
“Of course I did. I’d say they count as family.”
“Well, yeah…” He was actually happy about them attending, but of course he didn’t want her to know that.
“Here’s your breakfast. Eat up,” she said, setting the plate on the table. Kyo snapped to attention, ready to fill his already grumbling stomach. “Come on, Saki. I’m taking Saki, make sure you lock the door and don’t be late for school.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled chewing on sausage.
He walked down the sidewalk, book bag in hand, staring more at his feet than his path as he went. After all, making eye-contact left an awkward uneasiness in his stomach, especially with schoolmates. If he made eye-contact and then saw them again later during school, he may have to explain himself or be put in that strange situation where neither they nor he knew if further greetings should be exchanged. It was easier just to look down.
He approached the gates of his large, private high school as other students began to pour in as well. He was fine with a public school, but his mother wouldn’t have it any other way, not that he minded. He just felt guilty that his mother had to pay for it. Paying for the house, the car, and his fancy high school among other things must really be tough for a single mother of two. But this is what she wanted, he thought.
He did really like his school, though. It was great. It had a nice, large new building, a very high college entry rate, a big beautiful sports field which he hated more than anything else, a good curriculum, and a lot of academic after school clubs and programs, some of which he had been meaning to join. The four way tie between math, English, book, and shogi was a tough one. Actually, it wasn’t tough at all. He wanted to join the math club the most. He loved math, but his antipathy towards any form of social interaction had prevented him from joining said math club or any club for that matter. He’d have to ask for a form, after all. Furthermore, if he did join, he’d have a lot of other people who would also presumably be good at math. That would practically make them rivals, which could mean a lot of animosity aimed at him.
Is not that he hates any of the sports clubs, he just felt that he wasn't built for that kind of activity. He secretly wanted to join the kendo club. It just looked too painful for him to ever give it serious thought. The swords cracking down over the head of his opponent, yelling “kya!!!” at the top of his lungs, and practicing for hours a day all seemed to have a certain allure to him. He had practically been raised on stories of samurai and heroes. The classic tale of a lonely samurai single-handedly forging his way to victory despite being vastly outnumbered was no stranger to him. But who am I kidding, he thought. Despite his love for swordsmanship, he could never do something like. Not with the coordination of child behind a sportscar. On second thought, that may turn out to be a modest boost in coordination.
“Good morning, Kyo,” a voice said from in front of him, just outside the front gate. Kyo jumped, not expecting to have his name called while he was becoming more acquainted with the sidewalk. “Happy birthday!” It was his best friend Ryu, since he had known for literally as long as he could remember. Their parents had been good friends and also lived nearby, so it was only natural that they had grown so close. Ryu was the cool kid that Kyo, along with many others, wished he could be. Suave, always worried about his hair, he was really popular with just about everybody.
“Hey, Ryu. Thanks.”
“How does it feel to finally be 16?”
“No different than it did being 15.”
Ryu snickered. “Somehow I’m not surprised. Three more months for me to find out.”
“Are you, uh, sure you’ll be able to come tonight? I know you’ve been really busy with your cram school lately.”
“Are you kidding? It’s your birthday, man, ‘course I’ll be there, tonight. I can take a night off to celebrate my buddy’s birthday. And I can always use a good excuse to eat your mom’s cooking.”
“Is it that good?”
“It is after you’ve had my mom’s cooking. Why do you think we eat out so much”, said Ryu, holding up a cafe bought cup of coffee.
The walked through the main courtyard, down a long path with an impressive looking fountain in the middle of it. Students sat on the edge of the fountain, talking amongst themselves or frantically copying homework that would soon be due. Kyo looked around, as though he was trying to (inconspicuously) eye someone.
“She got here early today for practice.”
“Ah, oh, I, uh... ok….,” said Kyo, slightly embarrassed that he knew exactly who he was looking for.
“Yeah, she’s been at it a lot lately. She’s been getting before school and then staying until seven or eight oclock! It’s ridiculous! I can’t even depend on my own twin sister to help me with my homework anymore.”
“I don’t mind helping,” said Kyo as they entered the main building, the hustling and bustling of student chatter filling the hallways.
“Yeah, but you see, that would require work. And as you know, I have a severe allergic reaction to such a thing.”
“But you just said…”
“...because I enjoy complaining. I’ll see you at lunch,” said Ryu as they approached Kyo’s home room, walking past him down the hall towards his own.
“Yeah.” Kyo stepped into his homeroom, which, quite frankly, was not too different than most Japanese high schools in terms of setup, with the exception of a larger room. It had six rows of five desks, each equipped with a solid, wooden, horribly uncomfortable chair. These were equally spaced out in a room where half of the walls were mostly made up of oversized windows, allowing the sunlight to efficiently light the room for most of the year. The front wall had a large, old fashioned chalkboard, which apparently emitted enough nostalgia to prevent anyone in the administration from upgrading to a white board. Old fashion sentiments aside, it was a great learning environment.
Kyo started to walk over to his desk before he was hailed by a classmate who sat next to him. “Oh, Kyo,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here!” He was certainly happy to hear that every once and a while. It came from Sayuri, the strong and boisterous class president who took her job a bit more seriously than she needed to. “Did you manage to catch the end of the science lesson from yesterday? I might have fallen asleep during the last five minutes of the lecture and I think I missed the part I needed to finish the homework.”
“Well, yeah, I did. No one else had them?”
“Actually, I didn’t ask anyone else.”
He stared with his brows squinted and his head cocked.
“It’s embarrassing, ok? I’m not supposed to, you know, need help or anything! People ask me for help, not the other way around,” she said in a loud whisper.
He laughed. “As expected from the president. Here, let me get my notes,” he replied, setting his book bag on his desk. Kyo turned around to face his desk and began going through his bag. As he did, he noticed something small and metal on his desk chair. He reached down and picked up a small, pointed-side-up tack in the middle of his seat. He tapped the very tip of the pin with his finger. Yup, it was sharp and metal. What kind of sick prank was this? If he had sat down, it really would have hurt, not to mention the horribly embarrassing reaction that would have accompanied it. Who would do- He knew who would do such a thing. He slowly glanced over to the front of the room, his jaw ajar.
A group of three boys were gathered at a single desk at the very front of the room. As Kyo looked towards them, they all quickly looked away, doing their best to contain their own laughter. “What’s wrong, Kyo,” said Sayuri, noticing what was in his hand and putting two and two together.
“KAZUYA!” she yelled in an surprisingly terrifying voice, which caused both Kyo and Kazuya to jump. She quickly grabbed the tack from Kyo’s hand and threw it line drive at one of the three, which would have hit him square in the face had he not ducked. She stomped over to him, yelling the entire way. “WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
“Hey calm down, it wasn’t me, I swear,” he replied, raising his hands up in innocence.
“Oh yeah, cause it’s never you, right,” she said as she continued her rampage. Kyo sighed in relief. One might even say he smiled a little. On the inside, that is. It was nice to see Kazuya get chewed out once in a while. He was the school bully after all. Every school has one. But why, oh why, did it have to be in this class? Notorious for skipping some classes and sleeping through the rest, he didn’t really care what others thought of him or how much trouble he was in. But one thing for certain, he loved to make Kyo a target.
A minute later, the chime rung signaling the beginning of class and the victorious madam president returned from her battle. She looked over towards Kyo as she sat down. “Keep this a secret and we’ll call it even,” she whispered, holding up the notes that Kyo had placed on her desk. Kyo, after contemplating the appropriate response, awkwardly nodded.
Don don don don, the Westminster Quarters chimed, signaling the end of fourth period. Kyo stood, exhausted from the four hours that made up the first half of school and made his way towards the lunchroom. Although he much prefered his mother’s lunches, he was happy to give her a break once and a while and eat from the school’s cafeteria, appropriately titled Das brot und der reis for it’s selection of both traditionally japanese and european themed meals. The food wasn’t bad. It was actually quite good. But, as Ryu pointed out earlier, it wasn’t his mother’s cooking. The one problem was that most of the students at this school ate in the cafeteria rather than bring a lunch box, meaning that the lunchroom was almost always full, forcing Kyo to usually either sit next to someone or have someone sit next to him. He much preferred the latter, but with the popularity of the place, there was no guarantee. It didn’t help either that Ryu attracted others like a bread to ducks, but Kyo didn’t mind as long as he was there.
He managed to make it to the lunchroom quickly enough to grab his lunch and find a relatively empty table to sit at. Ryu would probably be there in a few minutes, so he’d just get started on his hamburg steak. As he looked down at his food, two legs had walked into view in front of him. “Oh, hey Ry-,” he said, looking up and noticing that it wasn’t Ryu at all. It was Kazuya, flanked by his two henchman, Taro and Junichi. He froze. It was all he could do. No one else was there to help and it’s not like he could do anything on his own. Kazuya casually walked around to the other side of the table. “Hey buddy, nice eye you got there.”
“Hey, Kazuya,” said Kyo in a nearly silent voice.
“What’s wrong? Eating all alone,” said Kazuya, his minions chuckling along in agreement like good henchmen do.
“What do you want?”
Kazuya bent over and threw his arm over Kyo’s shoulder, leaning on Kyo and placing his face uncomfortably close, talking loudly into his ear, “I was just wanted to see if my buddy could spare a little food.” Kazuya reached over and grabbed the roll that adorned his steak. “Thanks,” said Kazuya, his breath blowing across Kyo’s face. Just Kazuya was about to take a bite, his knees buckled he was sent stumbling backwards. “Oh, Kazuya! I am so sorry,” said a familiar voice from behind. Kyo turned to see that it was none other than his good friend Ryu.
Kazuya regained his footing and grabbed Ryu by the collar, aggressively pulling Ryu close to him. Either brave or insane as he may be, Ryu was still no match for Kazuya. Side by side, one could easily see that Kazuya had forty pounds and seven inches on him. One could argue that picking Ryu up was necessary for them to speak on equal terms, being as large of a height gap as there was. “How about I ram my fist down your throat” said Kazuya in an angry voice.
