Everyone evacuated the classroom. Saya looked at Takashi, who was still in a mindless daze. "I don't know… I feel like I'm losing her." He said. "It feels like she's distanced herself."
And now she was the one sighing. But, she decided to push her reservations aside and treat this a little more seriously. She'd always hated when Rei's name came out of Takashi's lips, but now she felt more pity than irritation. She wondered why.
"What did she say?" She asked, sitting across from him. He looked a bit lost. It had always been common among people his age, particularly those who weren't sure where life was taking them. Rei could've only worsened that sensation for him.
Not Saya though. Despite being a young teenager, she saw her life going through very clear markers. She knew how things would end up.
"Nothing... she didn't say anything." Takashi explained, a scowl on his face. "I tried talking to her earlier, but I think I've only made it worse."
Saya tapped her foot impatiently.
Takashi continued, not meeting Saya's eyes. "I don't know what's changed, but it's like she's barely paying attention to me. Or, like, she's being more secretive and withdrawn, you know? It feels weird, like we've been disconnected somehow, and I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do." He slumped in his seat and put his face in his hands.
Saya stopped her foot-tapping, sighing once again. "You're a fool, Takashi. Why don't you come out and tell her how you feel? I don't understand, what's so complicated about this to you? You have a crush on the girl. At the very least, make an attempt, unless you're too much of a coward."
He seemed to ponder what he wanted to say. His face twitched, and Saya was hopeful that her words had struck a chord within her friend, and he'd finally man up enough to at least fix the damn situationship with Rei. But Takashi rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes veering towards the window. "I don't know..."
"..."
"Rei doesn't seem to be fond of being around me. Not to mention that she's been hanging by Hisashi's arm more often. I'm sure there's something going on between those two. I-I mean, it looks that way... to me." He finally turned to look at her.
"Now listen here..." She was struggling to hold back her frustration and anger towards him. "You have a problem, and you need to stop running away. Sitting here and brooding isn't going to do any good. Not in the short or long run. You can't always sit by the window and mop around whenever life demands you to actually make some goddamn effort. Perhaps you truly deserve to lose Rei to actually grow a spine."
Takashi's eyes grew wide open at Saya's remark. She didn't know if he was going to reply, for she had already gathered her things and stormed out of the empty classroom.
She traversed the winding corridor with short but quick striders, cursing under her breath. Damn Takashi. Damn Rei. And damn Hisashi too—for third-wheeling himself between those two. Love was truly awful, it made someone so weak and vulnerable.
Why had she been a victim of this intangible, non-solvable curse as well? Wasn't she a genius? The worst of all was the lack of self-awareness people carried when the emotion in question affected their sense of judgment.
'I swear I'll never, ever, fall for someone else again—'
Her train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted when she hit a wall, except that it was a bit too fleshy to be concrete. And walls didn't grow hands that stopped you from falling down either.
It didn't take a genius to understand she had run into someone and not an actual wall, but none of her schoolmates were this unnecessarily big.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Saya blinked blearily when Tysone's familiar voice resounded. "Y-You…" She backstepped and pointed a finger at him. "What are you doing here?"
He frowned, slightly. "Is that accusation I hear in your voice, little missus?" Now it was her turn to frown, not that it stopped him from continuing talking. "I sent you a few messages, but you didn't even look at them, did you?"
She snapped her eyes towards her phone.
"I don't like to be ignored, you know?" Tysone said, airily. "Especially if it's to talk to some other guy." He stared at her—no, not at her, behind her.
She whipped around, just in time to watch Takashi walk out of the classroom with an unreadable expression on his face. Tysone and Takashi looked at each other, and Saya was caught right between them.
Now, this was not a shoujo manga—Saya knew it, but it still didn't stop her from thinking that she was the protagonist of some cheap love triangle.
Takashi was about to talk, but Tysone was faster. He grabbed Saya's wrist, gently but firmly, and dragged her away. Takashi didn't even try to chase after them, not that she genuinely expected him to.
And so, Saya found her back against a wall. She blinked in surprise. "What the…"
A few students passed by, giving them a weird look. Saya felt her cheeks burn.
Tysone, on the other hand, looked completely calm and unbothered.
"You surprised me…" Saya sighed, holding her hand, though it was not like it hurt.
"Right back at you. So, what's up with that guy?" Tysone tilted his head.
"That was Takashi, just a friend." She felt the importance of emphasizing the word 'friend', for some reason.
There was an odd glint in Tysone's eyes, that was gone as soon as he blinked. "He looks unremarkable." Average stature. Average looks. Didn't seem particularly bright or confident either. If anime had taught Tysone anything, it was how not to be like them.
"Well, he's stupid, just like you." Saya mumbled.
"And here I was trying to make conversation. Maybe it's the language barrier after all?" He rubbed his chin and made a long contemplative sigh, slowly pacing up and down like the smart, devious, scheming character he was.
As he jokingly paced back and forth, Saya caught a whiff of his scent.
She was not ashamed to admit that she initially thought black men didn't smell particularly good, but only because all the related content she was exposed to were of starving children and tribes of desperate folks seeking international aid. The juxtaposition between these images, the overall negativity behind a color, and a pleasant, deep musk were extremely disconnected and at odds with each other.
After all, Tysone stood there, perfectly shaved, his hair trimmed, dressed in casual but well-thought out clothes, and actually smelling good.
Saya didn't know what to think anymore.
The world was ending.
"Saya, stop zoning out and blushing." Tysone said, suddenly. "Since I'm here, I guess there's no need for you to read my messages. I'll make it brief—"
"—I-I'm not blushing!" Saya snapped.
Tysone continued, unfazed. "—It's about the Rage Room, Saya. The location. I talked to you about it, didn't I?"
"Oh… Rage Room. Talked about it. Right." She cleared her throat. "So, what about it? Did you find something good?"
He nodded, smiling. "It doesn't look good right now, but it has potential. You're done with school for the day, haven't you? Come with me."
For the second time that day, Saya found her tiny wrist engulfed in Tysone's much larger hand.
…
Saya followed Tysone in a subdued mood. She kept staring at her wrist, squeezed gently between his longer, thicker fingers. His stride was long and fast, but not so much that she couldn't keep up.
It was kind of weird.
And kind of nice.
He weaved through the throng of pedestrians like a knife through butter. Or maybe his intimidating size and skin color made him some type of repellant.
Before Saya knew it, the two of them stood in front of an abandoned-looking store. There was an old, weathered sign that said something or another, but it was written in Japanese kanji and therefore lost on Tysone. A note was pasted to the dirty, glass windows that read, simply: 'For Sale.'
And a contact number below.
"Beautiful, right? Right?"
Tysone was uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Saya was merely skeptical about it.
She took a step forward and peered through the windows.
The interior was coated in dust, cobwebs, and grime. At a certain point of darkness, a fixture of what had probably been a ceiling fan dangled precariously. And if that wasn't alarming enough, then she also saw a large roach scurrying towards safety behind a sink.
A shiver went up Saya's spine. She covered her mouth with a hand, clearly appalled by everything she was witnessing. "B-Beauti— How in the world is this beauty! Just take a look at that horrid thing—" Saya stammered, pointing at a filthy counter next to the cash register. She turned around and was appalled to see how positively beaming he was.
She finally stepped up to him, reaching mid-waist on the guy, and kicked him hard in the ankle.
"Hey! Why do you have to be so violent?"
"It's because you're a massive idiot. Seriously? You couldn't find any better?!"
Tysone fucking knew she'd raise a storm the moment she saw it.
Author Note: More chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione.
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!
Please don't forget to leave a review and comment it would really boost my mood for this novel.
Don't forget to gimme some stones if you enjoy the story and please leave your theories about it to since this is a complete AU story things won't be like in the Comics
He shook his head. "Not at this price. Anything else, and we'd spend more on the store than the renovation." He grabbed the faded note taped to the door. "Besides, if we haggle, I'm sure they'll make it more affordable. I mean, they're probably desperate to get rid of it."
Saya folded her arms, skeptical. "And why would they be so eager to sell it for less?"
He glanced at the decrepit building and shrugged. "Could be a few reasons. For one, they might be drowning in property taxes. A place like this, sitting empty for who knows how long? Those taxes pile up fast. Maybe they've just had enough."
"Hmm, that does make sense." Saya mulled for a second or two.
Tysone started listing reasons in one hand, adding a finger for each one. "Another possibility is that whoever owns this property is a small local business and can't handle the maintenance costs or, I don't know, they might be dead for all we know and whoever's dealing with their estate would prefer to sell than let the money bleed out of a place they're not willing to fix." He shrugged half-heartedly. "Either way, we should be able to buy it for less than it is marketed at. Of course, I can't do this on my own. And it'd be lovely if you could ask your parents to snoop around to see if this is legit. We wouldn't want to pour all this work and money into it, only to be screwed over."
Saya huffed, crossing her arms as she gave the store a critical eye. "Leave it to me. In the meantime, I need you to—"
"To look for other options if this turns out to be a bust?"
She raised an eyebrow, eyeing him carefully.
Tysone smirked.
Saya harrumphed.
It wasn't like she disliked having such a reliable person on her side.
At least not really.
"My, Saya-chan. Have you perhaps fallen for my roguish charm?"
And then her cheeks turned cherry red. "W-W-W-What do you mean—"
He promptly stretched out his right arm and rubbed his left biceps. Saya blinked. It was toned. Muscle formed and shifted under his tight, black sleeves. A smirk curled up his lips.
She caught a whiff of his detergent-y scent.
Something between his own personal taste and masculine sweat—which shouldn't have had an impact on her brain whatsoever—sent all blood rushing to her cheeks.
"Damn it, you! Just shut up!"
She turned around sharply, gritting her teeth.
"I'll wait for your good news, Saya. Please, don't disappoint me."
Her eyes widened slightly as she turned back around, only to face Tysone's back. "Wait, where are you going all of a sudden?!"
But he waved his hand lazily and disappeared into the crowd.
Left alone in front of the neglected store, Saya could've only stare, both dumbfounded and mesmerized. She looked at her wrist. "This idiot…" She stood there for a good few seconds. "Weird, weird, weird." She concluded with a sigh.
She noticed a passerby giving her a queer look, causing her to merely roll her eyes, and then walk in the direction she presumed would take her home.
Stupid Tysone.
…
And just like that, a week went by. A normal week with normal people and normal problems.
Nothing happened in Japan. Nobody was dead. Except a lot of the older generations, whose time had come and went, but that didn't matter to the current ones. They still wanted the money of the old days, or a safe and secure job, and they wanted it yesterday. But things were always changing, and most adults could not change with it. The concept was beyond them—possibly too far-fetched for the Japanese traditional mindset.
Tysone wondered how much he could change, both himself and the world around him.
What exactly would drive him to accomplish that?
Sure, he had an ultimate objective, but the question remained: what would ultimately enable him to reach it? Money? Power? Influence?
History proved that the greatest of empires could crumble with one stroke of misfortune, whether that be a coup d'état or a disease.
Therefore, power wasn't infallible, for one thing could never control every single variable.
Money was supposed to be a means to an end, not the end itself.
Influence? It depended entirely on who had it and how it could be abused, manipulated, or squandered. Dirt was so easily thrown at great people.
Tysone was not blind to the power of knowledge or talent, yet knowledge wasn't power unless it was applied, and talent couldn't take care of itself unless properly taken care of.
As such, Tysone couldn't envision how any of those factors would guarantee his survival in a zombie apocalypse. Not that he was planning to become the very last man standing, but he had to be reasonably prepared to not be completely overtaken by despair, for what was life if he couldn't live it at all?
So, the answer to all of these questions, a conglomeration of the best elements, had to be something, in theory, impervious to decay—an existence with longevity.
Immortality, perhaps.
Maybe with enough money, he could fund something like that?
Not that it was really that important or smart to invest in that, since even in his technologically more advanced world, that code had yet to be cracked—though striders were being made.
His phone vibrated with incoming message notifications. He immediately grabbed it, thinking it was Saya, but it was Mai instead.
Mai: Hey, doofus.
Mai: What are you doing?
Tysone contemplated replying before sighing and flipping his phone shut. As much as he liked Mai, he wasn't in the right headspace to talk to her. He was anxious to get started on his Rage Room.
Thankfully, when his phone vibrated again, it was because of Saya. promptly answered the call.
He smiled. "Well, well, look at who decided to finally remember that this poor American brokie still exists."
"Hey, yankee, I've got some good and bad news, which one do you wanna hear first?"
Straight to the point. He loved that.
"Give it to me the way you think best, little missus. I'm sure whatever news you have can't be worse than the US economic disaster."
There was a long, tired sigh on the other end of the line. "Let's cut to the chase. My parents want to meet you, Tysone. They're coming back to Japan this week. They kind of... know about us."
Tysone made an odd face. "Saya, as much as I respect your higher intellect, you need to work on your phrasing."
"I-I was talking about the business side of things, you damn idiot!"
"I know, you damn brat." Tysone pinched his nose. "But if you said something in a similar vein to your parents, I can only imagine the motive behind their wanting to suddenly meet me."
He could briefly hear her growl, before she seemingly composed herself. "I'm not stupid like you, I said only the bare minimum to get their approval. Trust me, no worries here. Dad did say he wanted to have a private chat with you, though."
Tysone doubted she understood anything at all. The nerve and lack of social awareness displayed in that sentence was astounding. "You want me to die, Saya?"
"Why would I want that, dummy?! Just come and meet me and my dad! We'll work out a formal deal, just you wait. I'll ask him to keep his hands off you. I'm a genius, remember? Everything will work out in our favor. Just watch."
He could scarcely believe his ears. "Saya, you..."
"I know, I'm amazing, aren't I?"
She chortled in a villainous-like way.
"..."
'Well, it had to happen sooner or later, I guess.' Tysone thought morosely, hanging up on a laughing Saya. 'Still, this is too sudden.'
In all of this, his phone buzzed with new incoming messages.
Mai was quite the stubborn girl, wasn't she?
…
The Takagi Estate was as grand as always, but Tysone navigated its insides with calm familiarity; he had been coming here for a while already. And he could only hope that his Japanese would impress Mr and Ms. Takagi, otherwise he'd have to latch onto Mai's rich thighs.
For the occasion, Tysone wore more formal clothes. A cream-colored dress shirt, black pants, and equally black, polished shoes. He had to spend a bit on this apparel, but he reasoned that if it got on their good graces, it was well worth it.
"You look nervous, Mister Tysone."
The maid astutely observed.
He laughed. You'd think going through death's womb once would make anyone impervious to agitation, but that wasn't true. It was not as if he feared Saya's parents, but there was a gap in status and wealth that had to be filled through with an attitude adjustment. He couldn't talk to them like he talked to Saya or Mai.
Besides, he was black, which meant the odds were already against him.
"So do you, maid-san."
She laughed.
Author Note: More chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione.
Creation is hard, cheer me up! with POWERSTONES!
Please don't forget to leave a review and comment it would really boost my mood for this novel.
Don't forget to gimme some stones if you enjoy the story and please leave your theories about it to since this is a complete AU story things won't be like in the Comics
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