Blast from the Past
If Takemichi was being honest, the best time of his life was back at the start of middle school.
While he had been unsure of himself at the beginning, he had joined a group of delinquents, later dubbed the ‘Mizo Middle Five’. Within a few short weeks, he had quickly risen to the second position of the group.
It had been the first time he was liked, and had friends, as far as he could remember.
Later, Tachibana Hinata and Naoto found their way into his life.
He didn’t understand why, but they wanted to be his friends. As far as Takemichi knew, he had absolutely no redeeming qualities - everyone thought delinquents were lame and therefore avoided him and the rest of Mizo Middle unless it was to pick a fight. Yet these two had stuck around, and Takemichi often wondered if this was what having a family meant.
Hinata had been the first one to befriend him. Rumours had flown around the school that she had a crush on him and he wanted to see just who was stupid enough to like his sorry figure. In the end, Hinata had just wanted to be his friend, and Takemichi, who had a social circle the size of a teaspoon, jumped on the opportunity.
Naoto was Hinata’s little brother. It had taken a little while for the two of them to warm up to each other, but hanging around Hinata for long enough did miracles for his ability to befriend people.
If only that had stayed even after he ran away.
As Takemichi reopened his eyes, he realised that he was not in fact, dead.
Which was surprising, as he could clearly remember bleeding out on the train tracks.
Takemichi listlessly took note of the passengers near him. Before he assumed that he had somehow dreamed of his death, he saw his reflection in the glass pane opposite him.
‘Yellow hair…it looks lame.’
Takemichi dismissed the observation before his common sense kicked him where it hurt.
‘Wait, that's me! But…I haven’t had yellow hair since I graduated middle school!’
His lethargic state dissipated, replaced with a gnawing sense of worry. ‘What the heck is going on? ...Is this the kind of flashback people get before they die?’
As his mind raced a mile a minute, he heard someone call out to him.
"Oi, Takemichi! Aren't you going to get off the train?"
Startled, he looked out to see the train doors wide open. He managed to get out before the train left with him in it.
Four people were waiting outside for him. Familiar faces he hadn’t seen in the past twelve years.
'Mizo Middle?!' Takemichi took their appearance in. They all looked exactly the same as they had in middle school, serving to cement the fact that this was just a memory.
After all, time travel wasn’t real, no matter how much he wished it was.
'God, I missed them so much.' The rest of the gang wondered why Takemichi was just staring at them and grinning like a loon. If they saw just how close he was to bawling his eyes out, they didn't say anything.
'There's Akkun, our leader. Makoto, the resident pervert. Yamagishi, our walking delinquent encyclopedia, and Takuya, my first friend.'
Takemichi shrugged off the concerned glances the gang gave him and walked with them, idly listening to the chatter.
He took a quick glance into a mirror, just to confirm that it was just a memory. It sure as heck didn't feel real. His bleached hair stood up in an attempt to mimic the styles of the delinquents of Japan. Other than that, he had no other remarkable qualities.
‘Huh? This….it's me! I look like such a lame guy! What the hell?!’ Takemichi had to pinch himself, just to make sure all this wasn't some sick, twisted nightmare. ‘I thought I peaked in middle school!’ All the cringe he had done in the past proceeded to hit him in the gut.
‘Jeez….I should at least check my pockets for anything useful.’
He emptied them and found one (1) 500-yen coin and his old cellphone.
'Hey, it’s a flip phone!' Takemichi couldn’t help the smile that flitted across his face as he saw the phone's wallpaper. He ought to save that picture of the gang together. "How nostalgic…"
The phone displayed the date and time - July 4th, 2005.
"Wait a minute….2017 minus 2005…17 minus 5…" Takemichi reared back in shock, almost dropping the phone.
'It’s exactly twelve years before my death! Man, talk about coincidence…'
“Oi, hurry up!”
“Oh, yeah, coming!”
After leaving the station, Mizo Middle Five decided to have lunch at a nearby Mcdonald's. Fearing for his non-existent wallet, Takemichi ordered a small packet of fries. The rest of the gang loaded themselves with burgers and cola.
“Hey, why are you only having fries?” Yamagishi asked, jabbing his packet with an opened sachet of ketchup. “It’s a mini, too!”
“Well, I need to pay for the train ticket back home,” he explained sheepishly. ‘Broke till the tomb. That’s my life.’
“It’ll all work out,” Makoto shrugged. “Just order some more.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but Makoto’s right. You need to eat more - you’re all skin and bones.” Akkun sighed, before passing his untouched cola to Takemichi.
Takuya passed half of his chicken nuggets to the group for everyone to take. “Akkun’s right - all of us need to have enough energy for the fight. We wouldn’t want our Charge Commander to pass out from hunger in the middle of a battle, would we?”
“...Battle?”
“Yeah, against those damned Shibuya middle years. They’re the same age as us, but they think they can look down on us just because they’re a part of some stupid biker gang!” Makoto slammed his fist onto the table, drawing the attention of the other customers.
“Toman isn’t just some gang, Makoto. It’s huge and it’s been around longer than our group.” Yamagishi proceeded to go into his info-dump mode. All of said information proceeded to fly off everyone’s heads.
‘The delinquent world sure is his hyper fixation, huh….’
“To put things simply, it’s going to be good for the Mizo Middle Five if we can beat up such an established gang, even if it’s only a small portion of them.” Akkun looked at them seriously. Takemichi could feel the beginnings of a headache creep up on him.
“Uh, do we have to fight them?” Everyone stared at Takemichi as if he had said something unforgivable, and he wilted under their gaze.
“Takemichi, they insulted us and our gang a few days back. Don’t tell me you already forgot,” Takuya gave him that soul-piercing gaze, as if he knew that something was off. Takemichi guessed it was what childhood friends had in common. “They’d call us wussies if we backed out now.”
Takemichi had the urge to slam his hands on the table and say ‘So what?!’. He’s never been more glad for self-restraint.
Yamagishi patted (read: beat) his back. “You don't need to act like you're scared! You're going to give them a backfist the moment you see them, right?!”
‘Backfist?!’
“Yeah, Takemichi’s always fired up, isn't he?”
“Lead the way, Charge Commander!”
As the four of them calmed down, Takemichi couldn't help but wonder just what sort of shit he got into on a regular basis to get such a reputation. His memory was terrible.
“The honor of Mizo Middle Five is at stake.” Ah, so that was why Akkun was the leader. He had a way with words, after all.
“So, if we want to uphold it, we’ll have to fight.” Dang it, he thought Akkun was going to say something sensible, like no fighting!
“We'll have to be careful in case they call for reinforcements. Toman has some really qualified fighters.” Yamagishi sighed, before perking up. “But these guys alone shouldn't be a problem! Besides, once we mention Masaru, they’ll go running for the hills,”
‘Masaru? Why's he important for this?’
“Reinforcements? Ya sure that Toman would be willing to help their small fry?” Makoto jabbed his french fry in the last of the sauce.
“Toman’s a surprisingly upright gang. They look after their own,” Akkun side-eyed Makoto, giving him a dirty look. “Unlike someone I know.”
“That was one time, and it wasn't that bad!” Yamagishi pouted, trying to defend Makoto.
“You're just saying that because he bribed you with my pudding!” Takuya grumbled, clutching the side of his head. He always did that whenever he was irritated, which was not often.
“Jesus Christ, I said I was sorry!”” Makoto pressed his palms into his eyes.
'Problems in paradise, huh….It doesn't seem too important for me to meddle with, so I’ll leave it be.’ Takemichi couldn't help but feel incredibly petty over the fact that his friends were having one of those arguments. It helped nourish his lonely, single soul. He snuck a chicken nugget and a sip of the cola, preferring to let the others take the rest. He didn't want to take too much, but at the same time, they were right. He ought to give his physical body some nourishment too. He’ll just take it like he's at the movies, watching one of those terrible rom-coms.
After the four were done with their bickering, Mizo Middle Five went to the playground for their battle against the Shibuya Second Years, after scouting the nearby school grounds.
For some reason, Takemichi felt like he was forgetting something.
'Masaru…that idiot's my cousin. He lied about being the leader of the Shibuya Third Years in Toman, when in reality he was just their errand boy. Because of him…..’ Takemichi clenched his fist. He’d never forgive him for that.
‘Either way, he’s just a rotten bully. I couldn't make a single friend before middle school because of him, thank whatever higher power exists that he moved out of Shibuya! The question is, why did Mizo Middle think that name-dropping Masaru would be a good way to get out of the fight?’
Strolling down Memory Lane, he wondered just what happened at this point in time.
‘Wait, as leader of the Toman Shibuya Third Years, Masaru supposedly had control over Shibuya Second and Shibuya First, and would have to look after them as his underlings….wouldn't that mean that he and by extension, the actual leader would get involved in this fight?’
‘Wait, fight? I can't fight! It's been a decade since I involved myself in delinquent activities! How am I supposed to do that?! I can't keep up with them!’ Takemichi had to force himself out of his panic mode. 'It's just a memory, a flashback, everything's going to be okay…’
“This is weird. There isn't a single second year nearby.” Akkun seated himself on a wooden bench. “Everyone we spoke to was either a first year or a third year.”
“Where do you think they all disappeared to?” Takuya asked the rest of the gang, trying to gather ideas.
“Who knows?” Yamagishi drew a spiral in the sand with a twig, bored out of his mind. “Maybe they heard we were coming and ran off in fright!”
“Probably!” Makoto stretched his arms, flexing them slightly. “Should we go and hunt them down?”
‘Well, at this point in time, the leader of the Shibuya Third Years should be….oh, crap!’
“Guys, we should lea-” Before Takemichi could warn the others of what was going on, Mizo Middle Five was surrounded by a bunch of bat-wielding third-years.
“So, you're the idiots meddling with our second years,” The leader lit a cigarette and put it between his teeth.
‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.’
The rest of Mizo Middle didn't know that Masaru wasn't the leader of Shibuya Third, and that also meant that they didn't know who the leader was.
Kiyomasa, a third year (who didn't particularly look like one), was the one who held control over the delinquents of Shibuya Middle. Compared to him, Masaru was an ant.
“Our second years are on a school trip.” Kiyomasa pointed his bat at Mizo Middle Five. “Line up, we're going to bash your faces in.”
“Wha- wait, but we already spoke to your leader, Masaru-kun!” Yamagishi tried to buy time, while Akkun and Makoto got ready to fight.
'Fighting won't do anything…these guys are the real deal!’
“Masaru…?”
One of the delinquents cackled. “Hey, Masaru, they think you're the leader! Go and buy us some drinks!”
“Uh, sure….but who's paying?” Masaru avoided eye contact with everyone. Especially Takemichi.
“Eh? Let's say that every time my fist meets your face, it's worth a hundred yen.” As the delinquent began counting, Masaru quickly went to the vending machine, declaring that he’d pay for it.
‘Cowardice….it runs in the family.’
“T-Takemichi….?” Everyone looked at him, confused and scared out of their minds.
“I…” Takemichi’s throat was far too dry for him to speak.
‘I remember what happened here….’
As Kiyomasa swung his bat at them, Takemichi could only hope that the others would be able to forgive him. For everything that had happened and would happen in the future.
‘...we all got the shit beaten out of us.’