time after time

Takemichi emerged from his futon cocoon before the ass crack of dawn. There was a ton of things he had to do before the day went into full swing, and his body proceeded to join the Labor Union as he hobbled to the bathroom. 

He had to run back home to grab a clean uniform set and his book bag. He’d have to figure something out for lunch, but it was fine, the cafeteria would do if nothing else was there. 

After speedrunning the bathroom and its many events, Takemichi scrambled to the living room where he painstakingly ripped off his bandages. It felt like the gauze was trying to turn into a second skin.

Mrs. Tachibana had caught him trying to reapply the medication on his head. She made him sit down on the sofa and help him redress his wounds.

“Honestly, kids these days… who knows what they might have done to you if you had stayed there for a second longer!” She sighed, before patting him on the cheek. “Hina and Nao were so worried too… Keep yourself out of danger, at least for their sake, okay?  I’d rather not see them sprout gray hairs at their age!”

Takemichi chucked awkwardly at that. ‘Trust me, ma’am, they’re going to get a lot more than gray hairs…’

Mrs Tachibana didn't even let him look at the doorframe till she’d seen him down a plate of breakfast. Takemichi was too tired to notice what he was eating, but whatever it was, it was good.

“Thanks for everything, Mo-” Takemichi abruptly stopped himself before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. “-most probably I’ll be able to repay you by, uh, making everyone dinner or lunch or something! Yeah! See you, Ma'am!”

“Oh, you don't have to worry about any of that! Take care and have a great day!”

After getting to his house, he grabbed his stuff and booked it for school. There were lots of people - students and teachers alike - who thought that because he was bandaged up, they could just freely stare at him. Takemichi wished he could dissolve into his own shadow.

Finally, he made it into his classroom, where he was greeted by Mizo Middle.

“TAKEMICHI!”

“Thank god, you're alive!”

Everyone proceeded to squish him into a group hug. Takemichi could hear quiet sniffles from…Takuya? Yamagishi? He wasn't sure. The world decided that now was a good time for his vision to go blurry. 

“We thought Kiyomasa- that he-”

“If that fucker ever decides to hurt you again, it’s going to be the last thing he does!”

‘.....I'm an awful person.’ Takemichi realized, not for the first time. Mizo Middle looked startled when he pulled away to wipe his eyes.

‘I don't deserve to be cared for like this. I don't deserve to have friends like them.’ 

Takemichi managed to give them a shaky grin, trying to ignore the fact that he was very close to bawling his eyes out. “What are you guys talking about? Did you really think Kiyomasa could get rid of me that easily?”

His boys still looked very unconvinced, but the class teacher came in before they could say anything else. A few pats to his shoulder and back and they were back to their assigned seats, with the promise of sitting together at lunch.

Takemichi had been extremely lucky to get a seat at the back of the class, something he thanked his past self for. He had a lot to think through, and he just didn't think that school was important enough for that.

‘They're worried about me. They shouldn't have to be. Not when I ended up betraying their trust by running away like a coward.’

The arena flashed in his mind, floor stained with blood. It wasn't his blood, unlike what had happened the previous day. A memory etched into his mind, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

‘I’ll never be able to forget that damned place.’

A slash of silver. Police sirens in the air.

Screaming.

‘...There has to be something I can do for them. I can't just let this be.’

______________

A few days had passed since Takemichi had carried out his first (and last) attempt to dig up information about the Tokyo Manji Gang. During this time, Takemichi had utilized the ultimate strategy of staying low and making sure that he wasn't targeted as much as a slave. 

It had been difficult, keeping a lid on his temper as he saw his friends being knocked down by fists, weapons, anything Kiyomasa and his goons could get their hands on when they lost their rounds in the arena. He could tell that they were starting to lose hope of getting out of this hellhole. 

Every day resulted in new injuries, and old ones getting worse. Takemichi and Takuya were the only ones who managed to remain relatively unscathed by keeping their heads down. Akkun butted heads more often than not to keep his gang safe, and Makoto and Yamagishi would follow his lead. 

The day came when Mizo Middle gathered in the boys’ toilet (of all places) to discuss the next fight. Takemichi had been dreading and anticipating this day.

“Takuya’s going to be the fighter this time,” Akkun announced grimly.

Makoto and Yamagishi looked ready to throw hands at that. 

“What the hell?!”

“I'm going to kill that fucking bastard!”

Takemichi sighed wearily. 

'It's time.’

“There's got to be some other way! Takuya can’t fight!”

“No offense, Taku, but if it's against those guys…”

Takemichi had to stay calm, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins and threatening to rip open his stomach. Panicking would not help. He had a plan for this. He had prepared for this ever since the day his friends had stuck by his side. He knew what would happen, and he would do everything in his power to stop it.

He would save his friends - his family - and repay them for everything. It was the least he could do.

Takuya seemed to notice his state of mind. “There's nothing to worry about, Takemichi. I'll lose and get it over with. Everything will be okay.”

‘Even though he's scared shitless himself, he’s still trying to comfort all of us.’

Takemichi clenched his fist. He had a fight ring to take down.

_______

On July 17th, 2005, Takuya Yamamoto was forced to fight in the gambling ring formed by the lower rungs of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

A few hours later, two dead bodies lay on the floor of the arena.

Atsushi Sendo was arrested for Kiyomasa’s murder. The murder weapon was a small pocket knife with his fingerprints all over it. Too small for a fatal stab injury, but the horrific gash on the bastard’s neck was enough to do him in.

Takuya was mourned by his family. The rest of Mizo Middle - the ones that were alive and not in juvie - had been forbidden from going near the funeral service. 

Takemichi had been brutally beaten up by Kiyomasa a few days before. He ran his mouth too much and got clobbered for his troubles, bandages and casts now a semi-permanent part of his attire. Looking back, if he had just been a little less hot-tempered, and had been better at avoiding hits, maybe he could have switched places with Takuya. 

Maybe he could have saved him.

The night after the murder, Takuya and Akkun visited him in his dreams. Accused him of ruining their lives. Said that he didn't deserve to be happy after all that had happened.

Before the daylight broke through the clouds, Takemichi found himself at Takuya’s freshly-dug grave, begging for forgiveness. He ended up falling asleep in front of the gravestone, only to be woken up by Takuya's father.

If you asked Takemichi to recognise the man after twelve years, he probably wouldn't be able to. But the words he uttered after realizing just who was crying over his son’s grave would stick with Takemichi well beyond his death. 

“If it hadn't been for your influence, we’d still have our son …”

He hadn't been able to live with himself after that. He ended up taking the cheapest train out of Shibuya and used what little money his parents had given him for living expenses to rent out a small room to live in.

He'd tried. Ropes and razors littered the bathroom he used, and the kitchen was bereft of anything edible. He’d almost succeeded too, if it hadn't been for the demon landlady threatening to turn him over to the authorities for trying to escape paying the lease.

Finally, he’d ended up having to find part-time jobs to pay for the room and food. Not many people were willing to hire a random ex-middle schooler, and even less willing to hire an ex-delinquent. But there had been a few, and he juggled as many as he could. It wasn't the healthiest option, but it was the only one he had. His parents and relatives would be pissed off if he returned, and he would never be able to face the rest of Mizo Middle, or the Tachibanas, especially after running away without a word.

Days turned into months, and months into a full decade and two years. Grief and regret had become an aching constant in his life, reminding him of all his wrongdoings. 

Finally, he had died, after ruining the lives of the people he held near and dear. 

In the end, he’d been given a second chance, but this was the first time he was making such a big conscious change to the timeline. It would set the standard for the rest of his time leaping, and if he failed again…

Well, Takemichi had too much on the line this time around to even think about failure.

______________

The arena was a loud place to be in, especially when there were hundreds of high schoolers screaming for your blood.

“For today's battle - Yamamoto versus Kojima! Odds in favor of Kojima are four to six!”

The arena seemed to explode as Kojima took his position. A few boos were sent Takuya's way as he slunk down, trying to hide himself from the crowd.

The sight made Takemichi’s blood boil. Mizo Middle looked like they were ready to kill.

Takuya got into a defensive position, seemingly giving up on trying to land hits on the boy before the fight even began.

Just as the announcer got ready to begin the match, Takemichi stood up.

“Isn't everyone sick and tired of the same old battles?!”

The arena seemed to quieten down, shocked by the idea that someone had the gall to interrupt the arena's proceedings.

Some people managed to boo him, and Takemichi could help bring out the irony. 

'It's kinda surprising…. If Kiyomasa makes the announcement, people end up cheering for Takuya's blood, but when I do it…’

'That's right, he used the exact same dialogue last time, didn't he? Said that the matches were getting too boring for spectators to bet money on…’

Takemichi grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes.

'That's why he killed Takuya in cold blood.’

“How about we change things around? For instance-” Takemichi raised his fist towards Kiyomasa, challenging the bastard. “King versus Slave.”

Kiyomasa snarled at him. “What makes you think that I’ll accept this matchup?”

'He's probably pissy that I stole his idea.’

“It's not what you like, Kiyomasa. It's what the arena wants to see. All those people you brought here to make bets? They're the pillars of the arena - not the fighters.” Takemichi knew that some of the people on the stands were lapping his words up like dogs without having to glance behind him. People like them liked to have their egos stroked.

Soon enough, the arena was filled with the chants of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ echoing all around them.

As the two of them made their way to the center of the field, Takemichi noticed the anxious look Takuya sent him.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, trying to avoid the attention of the other spectators. “Takuya, it's gonna be okay. We'll be okay.”

“What the fuck, Takemichi? Do you really think you can take on Kiyomasa, of all people?!”

Takemichi didn’t respond to that. 'It's better than you dying again.’

“Takemichi, what if he kills you?! He’s brutal! What were you thinking?!”

“Takuya, I need you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on Akkun and the others. Make sure they don't do anything stupid. If things get really bad…” Takemichi stepped forward as the announcer gathered the attention of the spectators. “....Call the police. Tell Hina and Naoto I’m sorry I got into a fight again.”

“You tell that to them yourself- Takemichi! Don't do it!” Takuya called out desperately as he was pulled back by other members of Kiyomasa’s gang. “Let me go, you bastards!”

Takemichi glanced at the rest of Mizo Middle before steeling himself for the match.

‘This time, I’ll make it different. I won't back down and let my friends get hurt.’

‘This time…’

‘...I’ll get my revenge.’

___________________

The match began, and Takemichi knew that he was going to die.

The power behind that first punch had been massive. There was no way Takemichi could match up to that. 

What had he been thinking? Takuya was right, he should have just kept his head down-

‘And what, let him die?’ A small voice in his head admonished him. 

Takemichi let out a strangled scream as Kiyomasa punched him hard enough for his head to snap back.

“All bark and no bite, eh, Hanagaki?” Kiyomasa sneered, watching Takemichi wobble on his feet.

'I have to win this. I have to make sure that all that planning wasn't for nothing…. I have to make my life worth something!’

“You’ll get killed!” 

“Takemichi, call it off!”

Takemichi looked towards the voices, only to see Mizo Middle shouting at him from the stands.

‘Look at them. They’ve stuck by me countless times… it's about high time I did the same.’

Kiyomasa kept punching, but nothing seemed to keep the blond delinquent down for long.

Akkun watched, horrified as Takemichi kept coughing up blood with every hit he took. He gritted his teeth, before lightly thumbing over the small pocket knife he always kept with him ever since Mizo Middle was absorbed into the lower ranks of Toman.

He moved forward, trying to decide if this was really the right choice to make. Takuya noticed the conflicted look in his eyes (he always noticed) and tried to stick with him as he pushed past the crowd, but didn't say anything.

He watched as Takemichi ran towards Kiyomasa, only to be hit again and again and again. The sight was horrific. Akkun wished he could stop the boy, protect him against delinquents twice his size like he used to at the beginning of the school year. Now…there was no choice.

At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to do it. What would the rest of Mizo Middle think if he murdered someone?

In the end, he pushed the knife back into his pocket. 

“That's enough, Takemichi! You’ve proved yourself enough! Just stop!”

The boy in question didn't seem to accept ‘giving up’ as an answer.

“Absolutely not…. not after everything…” Takemichi staggered, his feet beginning to buckle under him. 

'There’s something I have to do, something that's for me and my friends… even if it doesn't do much to save the future ... .I can't just…’

“This fight isn't enough… not enough to-” A wet coughing fit escaped his throat, and he bent over from the force. “-make up for the pain in my heart…”

“I spent…twelve years of my worthless life… doing nothing but run away.” Takemichi steadied his posture, a crazed grin on his face.

Akkun and Takuya could hear him speak, and couldn't help but worry for their friend’s mental stability. ‘Had Kiyomasa given him a concussion?’

Considering his newfound recklessness, it was probably more likely than they thought.

“I kept running… and running. Not anymore. This time, I’ve got something worth staying for - worth fighting for.” His voice grew quieter as he spoke. “I won't make the same mistake again.”

This time, when the two of them attacked each other, Takemichi managed to wrap his arms around Kiyomasa's torso, stopping him from moving forward. The ultimate hug-trap. 

Of course, it wasn't as efficient as Takemichi hoped…but it seemed to be effective enough to do the job. 

Kiyomasa was slowing down, and Takemichi just needed to last a little longer. Just till the older boy tired out. He was so close-

A hard blow to his stomach knocked the wind out of him. Takemichi collapsed to the ground, coughing heavily.

From what he could hear, Kiyomasa had shouted to someone to get a bat. The arena started to get more agitated, and Takemichi noticed that a few of them, not just his friends, looked concerned.

‘If this gets worse, Takuya knows to call the police and he can get locked up…’

A hush fell across the arena, and for a moment, Takemichi wondered if he had irritated the man enough to get him to attack as violently as he had in the past.

“It's the president!” he heard someone from the audience shout.

“He's here?!”

Kiyomasa and his goon ended up pausing the fight to greet whoever was coming. Takemichi stayed on the ground, too exhausted to get up.

Kiyomasa walked over to the two people. One had a large tattoo on the side of his head, and with his hair plaited up, he looked like a menacing viking. The person with medium length blond hair next to him, on the other hand, despite his relaxed mannerism….

Takemichi blinked, before shuddering. ‘For some reason… he feels a lot more intimidating than Mr Viking right now.’

There was something about the two that seemed familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and honestly, he felt like he didn't want to think about it. It was probably the blood loss that was making his mind get muddled.

Mr Viking stopped moving, and Kiyomasa walked forward to greet him. He bowed, and Takemichi couldn't help but notice that the bow felt far too shallow. 

'It's more than 90 degrees… Is that how people bow these days? Man, when I was working at the DVD rental, my head had to touch the floor!’

Mr Viking also seemed to notice that.

“Don't you think-” The man then proceeded to knee Kiyomasa in the stomach. Hard. If Takemichi squinted, he could see blood sputter out of his mouth. “-you need to show more respect?”

Once Kiyomasa was bent over, Mr Viking left him to move forward, only to be stopped by Mr Secretly-Intimidating.

“Ne ne, Ken-chin.”

“Hah? How many times have I told you to not call me that?! It's embarrassing.”

“I'm out of dorayaki.”

Takemichi felt stupefied, and from the look on Mr Viking’s (now ‘Ken-chin’) face, he did too.

“Good grief…Get your own damn dorayaki, Mikey.”

‘....What the heck is going on???’

“Hey. You're the one who set up a fighting ring in Toman’s name right?” 

‘Mikey’ loomed over Kiyomasa, who was still hunched over. When he received no response, he forcefully lifted his head up, somehow still keeping it low enough to mimic a bow. “Right?”

“...yes…”

‘I was right….This guy is scary!’ Takemichi tried to see if he could run away from this situation, but his legs didn't seem to work. 

“...Lift up your head.”

Kiyomasa trembled as he did, but before he could even reach the 90 degree mark, Mikey kicked him hard enough in the face that everyone in the arena could hear his neck audibly crack. Kiyomasa landed on the floor with a heavy thud.

Takemichi couldn’t breathe. He wasn't sure if it was because of fright or awe. ‘What the hell…’

A small part of Takemichi couldn't help but feel vindicated at the fact that Kiyomasa of all people had been knocked out and humiliated like that. ‘.....honestly, it serves him right.’

The moment of respite he’d had didn't last for long, because Mikey noticed him on the ground.

He walked swiftly towards him. Takemichi tried to scooch away, but he wasn't fast enough. Mikey managed to tower over him easily, despite his small stature. He lightly gripped the back of his head, and lifted his face near his own, surprisingly gentle with his actions. Black eyes peered into blue, and Takemichi’s breath caught in his chest.

‘T-too close….’

“...Are you really a middle schooler?” Mikey murmured, not once taking his eyes off Takemichi.

“Huh?!”

‘Wait, how did he figure it out?! What?? What in the world is going on???’

Mikey chuckled. It made Takemichi’s stomach flip, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Alright, what's your name?” he asked, a little louder than earlier.

“Uh…. I’m Takemichi.”

“...Takemitchy.”

Takemichi blinked. ‘That's… did he mispronounce it?’

“It's Takemichi. Take-mi-chi.”

Mikey grinned. “That's what I said - Take-mit-chy.”

Takemichi sighed. ‘Looks like he did it on purpose…’

“From now on, you’re going to be my friend, Takemitchy.”

“....Hah?!”

Mikey laughed, before letting go of Takemichi. He got up from his squatting position and walked over to ‘Ken-chin’. “See ya, ‘Mitchy!”

“Oi, you’ve got blood on your face. At least wipe it off before doing whatever the fuck you just did!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,”

The two of them walked away, and Takemichi and his friends lived to see another day.

_____________

Later that day, after a hospital trip, Mizo Middle ended up going back to the playground to celebrate their newfound freedom. Takemichi sat on the swings while the others raced to the slides, eager to use it now that the metal wouldn’t be blistering hot.

“Man, I still can’t believe that we made it out!” Makoto stretched himself out after making it to the top of the steps.

Yamagishi beamed at him from his position in the sand. “I know, right?! Who would’ve thought that Sano Manjiro, of all people, would come to save us?” 

Takemichi was still half asleep from the pain medication he had taken a while back, but his muddled state of mind was somehow alert enough to tell him that there was something very wrong with what Yamagishi had just said. 

“Huh? Who’s Sano?” He called out, the words slurring slightly as he tried to sit up straight in his seat. ‘Why does that name feel so familiar....ah. Right. The mafia murderer guy.’

“C’mon, ‘‘Mitchy’, don’t tell me you already forgot about the man who kicked Kiyomasa’s teeth in for you?” Akkun snickered, jumping out of Makoto’s way before the boy could slam into him.

“Wait…. Wasn’t his name Mickey? No, that sounds wrong, uh, maybe Mikey?”

“It’s Mikey, but that’s just a nickname. According to Kazu, his name is Sano Manjiro.” Takuya came to save him from the madness that was the rest of Mizo Middle, only to throw him into even greater insanity.

“Ha, ha, hilarious.” Takemichi rolled his eyes. ‘There’s no way someone like Mikey can become a ruthless killer like Sano Manjiro in the future. He saved our lives!’

No one laughed.

“Takemichi… you do realize we aren’t pulling your leg, right?”

“.....What the fuck.”