A cold breeze rustled through the busy metropolis in the moments before midday, as Sora waited at the crosswalk alongside the crowd of people, he glanced to the heavens. A curtain of gloomy gray hung overhead, not a ray of light could penetrate the overcast.
The distant rumble of thunder caught his attention briefly. He took a breath, tried to relax, stay clam, to not look out of place like a wolf among sheep, he let his mind wander…
“Hey little hero.”
His eyes darted to the sidewalk across the street, he saw the bloody visage of his hated target, saw the twisted smirk of a monster but, he blinked… and they were gone. He was losing it. More thunder echoed far into the distance. ‘Maybe if it rained, it would wash away evidence.’
As he tried to comfort himself with that thought; suddenly, the wail of sirens rolled along the narrow street, bouncing off the towers of concrete and metal like an unrelenting echo. Time slowed to a crawl as the noise became louder, like thunder heralding judgment upon the sinner’s head, it came closer.
Closer, the sound outpacing the thumping of his heart.
Closer still, his breath labored and struggled.
Then it passed. The sound, that high-pitched alternating wail, passed him by as if there were more important things on the driver’s mind. Even as the siren’s cry faded into the distance he could still hear the remnants, the howl of the police cruiser in the back of his mind like distant hunters.
He felt someone push past him, his spine straightened and his legs froze, but just a moment later he saw that it was only a man in a suit muttering an insult under his breath, talking in familiar hushed, angry tones to the occupant on the other end, but it had nothing to do with Sora or his crime.
The crosswalk signaled it was safe to walk, and the sea of bodies parted around him as if he was an unwelcome barrier. He felt exposed, like everyone knew; he chewed on the edges of his nails and his eyes shifted from one direction to the other, paranoid that someone would suddenly shout out:
“THERE’S THE GUY, THAT’S THE MURDERER!”
Sora willed himself to step forward into crowd going about their lives, ignorant to the monster lurking within the flock. He pulled his hood over his head and lifted up his face mask, trying to maintain as small a presence as possible. Become like that of a specter.
Yet the murmurs and whispers and hushed tones around him were deafening, the orchestra of discordant voices rang out all around him. Louder. Louder. Louder still, it became deafening.
The shadows surrounding him grew long, eyes watching, judging, accusing. He just kept moving forward, eyes glued to the concrete, but the weight of their accusing gazes weighed him down like his backpack were filled with boulders rather than evidence of his crime.
The chalk-marked bridge to the other sidewalk felt insurmountable; long and out of reach, and the faster he moved the further away it got. A sulfurous smell burned the inside of his nose, a heat washed over him as his shadow outpaced him, growing long along the crosswalk.
He could feel the walls closing in, threatening to crush him down and then-
BEEP BEEP!!! The horn sounded off!
“GET OUT OF THE STREET, KID!”
Sora’s spine stiffened as a jolt of electricity ran through his body.
“MOVE!”
Angry drivers continued to honk at him as he stood in the street, attracting way too much attention. Sora stuttered gibberish as he stumbled and tripped to the sidewalk, losing his footing he accidentally bumped into a rough-looking guy.
He angrily responded to Sora’s lack of coordination, but Sora was out of there quickly, choking out a quick apology and running off into the crowd. He could tell the murmurs were about him now.
He ran for what felt like minutes until he ducked into an alley off the main street, hiding behind a dumpster he pressed his hand against the wall and dry heaved. He coughed and choked on his own saliva as he tried to calm himself down.
Some time passed until he felt normal again. Well, as normal as he could feel in this situation. ‘This is going to be the rest of my life…’
A distant siren, even as far as it was, made his heart rate rise. This was his new normal. Only for now, had they overlooked his scent, but Sora couldn’t help but wonder when the day will come when the hounds of the law snap their jaws around his neck.
‘Calm down.’ He thought to himself, trying to keep in mind that nothing is set in stone yet. As long as he could get rid of the evidence, the odds of his capture and incarceration go down significantly.
He tried to hold onto that thought, to calm himself down. ‘Be normal.’ He thought to himself, his hands steadied, and his legs stopped shaking. He wiped the spittle on the corner of his mouth and was about to get going when suddenly…
“DON’T FUCKIN’ LIE TO ME, YOU WHORE!”
Sora flinched as a girl’s shout pierced the alleyway, he caught himself instinctively shrinking down into the wall trying to appear unnoticeable, before rising up. He could hear raised voices around the corner, not as loud as the shout but audible.
Curiosity guided his path as he crept along the brick wall, peeking out cautiously into the alleyway, the first thing he saw was a boy in an oversized gray hoodie sitting with what looked like a cigarette in his hand. But judging from the look in his eye and his vacant stare, he was not smoking any normal cigarette.
In the distance, he saw another boy, standing sentry at the other end of the alley. Unlike his companion, he seemed much more focused, but not on where Sora was hiding.
“We have the chat logs, we can see you texting him! Just admit that you’re fucking him, and we can get this over with!” In the middle of the alley, the one shouting, was a girl with bleached blonde hair, piercings, she stood with her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently.
She was flanked on both sides by two other girls; one with long hair and an open tracksuit leaning against the wall looking bored, like she’d rather be anywhere else, and the other girl in a yellow cardigan wearing too much makeup that barely concealed her wicked grin.
The girls formed a semi-circle around another girl in a large blue hoodie, she pressed her back against the wall unable to escape, her knees knocked and shuddered as she held her arms across her chest and hunched over as if trying to sink inwards. “I-I-told you…” she began, her voice shaking with fear, “S-S-Shindo, I-I’m not interested in him! He won’t s-stop texting me! I-I don’t even know how he got my line ID!”
The girl in the tracksuit sighed, took a breath from her vape pen, and nonchalantly blew a cloud of mist in the face of the target. Half-heartedly, she pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen, and turned her phone to the group. “This is a picture of Shindo with some girl who looks awful familiar don’t she?” The sarcasm in her tone obvious. “Same with this one,” she swiped the screen, “and this one, and this one, oh… and this one too.”
“Hmmmm, that’s interesting, eh?” Ms Cardigan started in, leaning in and tilting her head towards the other girl. “You seem pretty friendly in these pics, eh? Hand on your shoulder, getting in real close there? Not interested in him but doesn’t this look like…” she glanced over to the ringleader, “a daaaaate?” She purposefully stretched out the word, her hand barely covering her mouth as if she were speaking some kind of secret.
“NO! It’s not that!” The target stepped forward, raising her voice before sinking back into the wall, her voice quieting down again. “H-He just showed up while I was out shopping!” She gripped at the fabric of her sleeves as her voice went real quiet and she started trembling, “I tried to tell him that I’m uncomfortable with touching, but he kept telling me to lighten up! I hated it! I hated his slimy hands around my shoulders and- AGH!” She yelped as the slap reverberated through the alley.
The ringleader’s chest heaved up and down as she raised her hand again. “Don’t you dare talk shit about Shindo!” She then started kicking her when she was down. “You think I’m fooled by your, ‘Oh I’m so shy, boys scare me’ wallflower routine?! Bitch I know all about you! Everyone in school knows that your act is just to get boys to pay attention to you! What is it? Daddy didn’t love you enough so now you’re handing it out to anyone who will give you the time of day? Step-daddy doesn’t want you anymore so now you just throw yourself at other girl’s boyfriends, huh?! Who the hell do you think you are to just come in and try to insert yourself in another couple’s loving fucking relationship!” She briefly stopped kicking her to to pace back and forth, hands on her hips as she took several deep breaths, one of her hands moved over her eyes as her shoulders shuddered.
The girl in the tracksuit, though looking very uninterested in this display of drama, pushed off from the wall to go talk to the ringleader. They spoke in hushed tones so Sora couldn’t hear them. Meanwhile, the cardigan girl feigned concern for the target coughing on the ground as she crouched down and pat her back. But that smile on her face told Sora that she wasn’t there to check on her, she whispered something and her sadistic smile only grew.
Sora was frozen where he hid, watching the scene unfold. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d witnessed something like this, it reminded him of the moment that started him down the path of sin. He saw her cowering on the filthy ground, sobbing, wondering why would someone do this to her, and memories flooded back to that day over a year ago...
It was just another day after school, he and his friends had just left the local arcade, caught up in a debate about the oversaturation of the isekai genre when they stumbled upon something worse in a dark alley. A group of bastards shaking down someone who didn’t know to stay with their own. They’d witnessed similar scenes before, but their survival method was simple: mind your own business, keep your head down, and don’t draw attention.
Their cowardice bound them, and though others criticized it, cowards often lived longer than the brave. It was just another day, until one look from the victim shattered that illusion.
“Please don’t leave me.”
Sora was used to staying out of sight, but something snapped him on that day. Sora was different from his friends; they were lambs in a world of wolves, but he’d been hiding his horns. That moment was a blur but he remembered rushing in and striking the assailants.
In the stories, the hero tends to get rewarded. Guy stands up to the bad guys, all’s well. Real life doesn’t work that way though, no good deed goes unpunished.
“Gangsters confronted by a modern-day hero! You’ll never guess what happens next!”
500,000 views in just 24 hours. That video turned Sora’s life into a nightmare. If he had only kept his head down, and here he was again… history repeating itself.
“Not so brave anymore, little hero?”
Sora was jolted back to the present when he saw the girl on the ground. Their eyes met, that same pleading look.
But the story would play out differently this time.
He stepped back, clutching his backpack, lowering his head. “I’m sorry…” he mouthed as he began to retreat into the shadows…
“WH- ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GETTING HIGH RIGHT NOW?” Tracksuit hissed, pointing directly at Sora, he’d been discovered. “There’s a snitch there, handle it, please!”
“Wha-” The boy turned, spotting Sora. “H-HEY, SHIT,” He stumbled, trying to find his footing! “GET BACK HERE!”
Sora bolted, feet pounding against the pavement as he put distance between himself and his pursuers. The sound of rushing footsteps, swears, and commands to stop fading into the abyss.
He stepped over the alley’s threshold, back into the world of civilization, his heart pounded in his chest as he looked back into the shadowy depths; no sign of his pursuers. His breathing steadied but it didn't last long as he could hear more sirens in the distance, a few streets away.
The sirens were a reminder to him that he wasn't out of danger just yet, he had to keep moving. As he turned to continue towards his destination, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and a slight yank backwards.
Instincts guided his actions faster than thought; Sora whirled around, his hand clenched into a fist, a backhanded strike would be followed by a jab. His fist was stopped by a stronger force. "Hey hey hey cool it buddy!" His wrist was locked in a vice grip, and his eyes widened in horror as he caught sight of the glint of metal pinned to a navy blue vest.
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