Takashi Koji
May 8th, 2007, 05:25:10 PM
New York was a strange place. So full of life, so crowded and overpopulated, so crazy, hectic, and dark, and so full of crime that it was the closest thing to Tokyo in the United States. For that reason Koji called it Western Tokyo when joking with his friends. He'd explored the more interesting highpoints of the city from a tourists point of view; admiring the architecture of the Empire State building, the Statue of Liberty, and had taken the bus to Washington D.C. to see the Lincoln Memorial. The first thing Koji was surprised to see was a clear lack of Japanese influence in America. He had assumed that since Western culture was so prominant in Japan that it might go both ways. No, that was not the case. About the only thing Japanese abundantly found in America was video games developed, programmed, and designed in Japan, shipped to America, and translated into English. He had visited an American arcade and found it unappealing compared to the arcades found in his native Japan. He had thought that New York would be this great place, better then Tokyo, brighter then Tokyo, less criminal then Tokyo. But no. New York was just a different breed of Tokyo, an American branch so to say. New York was dirty, dark, and full of crime, just like Tokyo. The only difference here is that the American Police were far superior to that of Tokyo and Japan as a whole. He had to watch his back now. He couldn't just get in a fight with an American without paying for it. The police were only a phone call away and arrived instantly, which resulted in Koji exercising his legs more often then he was use to.
He had yet to be caught, he was too quick and crafty for the police. His small body allowed him to slip in areas the bulky Americans could not fit through with their wide shoulders and obese stomachs. His small knowledge of French Parkour also proved just as useful here in New York as in Tokyo. He could often be found jumping from rooftop to rooftop, falling great distances, only to roll to safetly when he hit the ground, and constantly climbing up normally unaccessable objects. But that was only the fun aspects of his life in the "Big City". His money was running out and he needed to find a job. At firtst he had tried to locate an underground street racing group but had failed to do so. The Americans were much stricter about cracking down on underground street racing, and besides: it was not like he had his own car anyways. But he planned to, as soon as he had the money, to order a true Japanese made street racer from Japan and 'bomb' around New York city in it, drifting around corners and generally wowing the populace while pissing off the police.
But that was just a nice dream and had nothing to do with the present. He needed money, which meant he needed a job, which meant he needed to clean up his act and actually be serious about looking for one. His money was running out and when it ran out he would lose his apartment room and everything else. So that is what he was doing today, looking for a job. The good news was American's put up signs on their businesses when they were hiring, the bad news is that he cannot read English very well. He can speak it just fine, but reading and writing was difficult for him. He was good with langauges, but only as far as speaking them. So there he was, wearing a pair of clean black slacks, black shoes, and a black dress shirt with a few top buttons unbottoned and the sleeves rolled up, and several pounds of silver jewerly located around his person in the form of bracelets, necklaces, and earings. His spiky hair was highlighted to the point that it looked brown with light blond steaks, which clashed nicely with his dark blue eyes and made his bronze skin seem lighter then it really was. A white cord trailed up from his pants pocket up his chin and then split to each side and traveled up to his ears, which were nearly hidden by his hair. Music was pumping into his ears, and he loved it. American music was so different from Asian and Japanese music, and he loved it. My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco had become instant favorites among other bands, and he listened to them with every waking, and sometimes sleeping, moment.
He continued to stroll, looking for hiring signs, but nothing was found. He kept walking until, suddenly, he found himself at the edge of a giant crowd, or rather mob if the picket signs and the occasional shout was any sign. Being the ever curious, he paused his music and wiggled his way through the crowd to the front, which resulted in his legs running into a fence. On the other side was armed police officers and a jumble of other people. There were newsreporters and cameras everywhere. It must be something important. Koji poked the guy next to him in the ribs, softly, and the man turned to regard him, "What's going on here?" Koji asked and the man looked at him as if he was crazy, "Dontcha know? They're treatin' them mutants with some kind of cure," The man replied and then turned away. Koji turned back to the scene. The fence itself was on the edge of street and on the other side of the street was some kind of hospital building. Police were positioned everywhere. A bus pulled in from down the street and a group of people got out, mutants Koji assumed as they trooped into the hospital building, with guilty expressions. One man in the crowd was screaming out at police and anyone else on the other side of the fense with a pair of ears. He was arguing that there was nothing to cure, that mutation was natural evolution of the human race and that to cure it would be like curing humanity itself and de-evolving back to monkeys. The man continued to rant, and it all made sense to Koji. No one seemed to be listening, though, so the man played his trump card, which was to scream louder and accuse the government of unlawfully persecuting the extra-evolved humans known in today's media as mutants.
Now the crowd was starting to get into it all, nodding their heads and shouting "Yeah!". In Koji's mind it all made perfectly clear sense, it was against the rights established by Americans for Americans. Koji was from Japan and things were not the same, but it made sense. So he joined in with head nodding and the "yeah!"'s, getting really into it, feeling a passion for it in his heart. Then next thing he did would change his life forever. He grabbed the fense with his hands and rattled it, which caused the rest of the crowd to begin banging on things and screaming at the police, the doctors, and the mutants still within earshot. Unknown to Koji his powers manifested at that point. He was a mutant, the son of a mutant, and his powers were now being unleashed upon the world. As his passion and anger increased so did that of the rest of the crowd, each becoming angrier and angier until, finally, half a brick sailed through the air and connected with an officer's helmet, denting it and knocking the officer down. An rookie officer raised his gun and fired, right at the protesting spokesman, assuming he had been the one to throw the projectile. The bullet ripped through the man's chest, slicing through his heart, and sailing out his back, and into the women behind him. They both fell together, dead before they even hit the ground.
At first shock was felt and then a deap, seething anger boiled up. The crowd became angry, very angry. Koji turned from the fallen spokesman and glared out at the officer with the gun. He screamed in Japanese, gripped the fense, and threw his feet over it. The crowd moved with him, one being, one mind, one emotion. Together they jumped the fense with Koji, a multitude of several dozen slipping over and charging towards the police force, screaming, cursing, and brandishing any weapon they could find.
Blood had been spilt and more would follow...
For the crowd with filled with hate unfathomable...
He had yet to be caught, he was too quick and crafty for the police. His small body allowed him to slip in areas the bulky Americans could not fit through with their wide shoulders and obese stomachs. His small knowledge of French Parkour also proved just as useful here in New York as in Tokyo. He could often be found jumping from rooftop to rooftop, falling great distances, only to roll to safetly when he hit the ground, and constantly climbing up normally unaccessable objects. But that was only the fun aspects of his life in the "Big City". His money was running out and he needed to find a job. At firtst he had tried to locate an underground street racing group but had failed to do so. The Americans were much stricter about cracking down on underground street racing, and besides: it was not like he had his own car anyways. But he planned to, as soon as he had the money, to order a true Japanese made street racer from Japan and 'bomb' around New York city in it, drifting around corners and generally wowing the populace while pissing off the police.
But that was just a nice dream and had nothing to do with the present. He needed money, which meant he needed a job, which meant he needed to clean up his act and actually be serious about looking for one. His money was running out and when it ran out he would lose his apartment room and everything else. So that is what he was doing today, looking for a job. The good news was American's put up signs on their businesses when they were hiring, the bad news is that he cannot read English very well. He can speak it just fine, but reading and writing was difficult for him. He was good with langauges, but only as far as speaking them. So there he was, wearing a pair of clean black slacks, black shoes, and a black dress shirt with a few top buttons unbottoned and the sleeves rolled up, and several pounds of silver jewerly located around his person in the form of bracelets, necklaces, and earings. His spiky hair was highlighted to the point that it looked brown with light blond steaks, which clashed nicely with his dark blue eyes and made his bronze skin seem lighter then it really was. A white cord trailed up from his pants pocket up his chin and then split to each side and traveled up to his ears, which were nearly hidden by his hair. Music was pumping into his ears, and he loved it. American music was so different from Asian and Japanese music, and he loved it. My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco had become instant favorites among other bands, and he listened to them with every waking, and sometimes sleeping, moment.
He continued to stroll, looking for hiring signs, but nothing was found. He kept walking until, suddenly, he found himself at the edge of a giant crowd, or rather mob if the picket signs and the occasional shout was any sign. Being the ever curious, he paused his music and wiggled his way through the crowd to the front, which resulted in his legs running into a fence. On the other side was armed police officers and a jumble of other people. There were newsreporters and cameras everywhere. It must be something important. Koji poked the guy next to him in the ribs, softly, and the man turned to regard him, "What's going on here?" Koji asked and the man looked at him as if he was crazy, "Dontcha know? They're treatin' them mutants with some kind of cure," The man replied and then turned away. Koji turned back to the scene. The fence itself was on the edge of street and on the other side of the street was some kind of hospital building. Police were positioned everywhere. A bus pulled in from down the street and a group of people got out, mutants Koji assumed as they trooped into the hospital building, with guilty expressions. One man in the crowd was screaming out at police and anyone else on the other side of the fense with a pair of ears. He was arguing that there was nothing to cure, that mutation was natural evolution of the human race and that to cure it would be like curing humanity itself and de-evolving back to monkeys. The man continued to rant, and it all made sense to Koji. No one seemed to be listening, though, so the man played his trump card, which was to scream louder and accuse the government of unlawfully persecuting the extra-evolved humans known in today's media as mutants.
Now the crowd was starting to get into it all, nodding their heads and shouting "Yeah!". In Koji's mind it all made perfectly clear sense, it was against the rights established by Americans for Americans. Koji was from Japan and things were not the same, but it made sense. So he joined in with head nodding and the "yeah!"'s, getting really into it, feeling a passion for it in his heart. Then next thing he did would change his life forever. He grabbed the fense with his hands and rattled it, which caused the rest of the crowd to begin banging on things and screaming at the police, the doctors, and the mutants still within earshot. Unknown to Koji his powers manifested at that point. He was a mutant, the son of a mutant, and his powers were now being unleashed upon the world. As his passion and anger increased so did that of the rest of the crowd, each becoming angrier and angier until, finally, half a brick sailed through the air and connected with an officer's helmet, denting it and knocking the officer down. An rookie officer raised his gun and fired, right at the protesting spokesman, assuming he had been the one to throw the projectile. The bullet ripped through the man's chest, slicing through his heart, and sailing out his back, and into the women behind him. They both fell together, dead before they even hit the ground.
At first shock was felt and then a deap, seething anger boiled up. The crowd became angry, very angry. Koji turned from the fallen spokesman and glared out at the officer with the gun. He screamed in Japanese, gripped the fense, and threw his feet over it. The crowd moved with him, one being, one mind, one emotion. Together they jumped the fense with Koji, a multitude of several dozen slipping over and charging towards the police force, screaming, cursing, and brandishing any weapon they could find.
Blood had been spilt and more would follow...
For the crowd with filled with hate unfathomable...