Revolutionary Boy Yuichiro

#1

((Yuichiro Takiguchi continued from ShottemBalls Nii))

Yuichiro stared at his reflection in the mirror. The blood was still on his face, and the tears were fresh around his eyes, but his expression was hard. Steeled with resolve and determination. Outside, the sun was beginning to set over the island, where not long ago Sakamochi’s voice had rung.

Eight. Eight more of his friends were dead. How? He didn’t know. Why? He couldn’t know. While he had been sat inside the lighthouse, his fortress of safety in all the chaos, waiting for more guests who never arrived, his friends had been out there meeting senseless, needless ends. He really was a coward, huh?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wouldn’t take it anymore. He looked at his face in the glass, the blood stained on his cheek for a whole day without him knowing. It must have been there when Shimizu-san had been there earlier, he had realised. What a dope.

As he washed the mark off his face, he thought of the faces he’d never see alive again. He knew he wasn’t the buddiest of buddies with them, but they were all his friends, no matter what. Every name had stabbed at his heart without mercy, and every space between names seemed longer than the last. He could picture a cruel sneer on Sakamochi’s face as he drew out the silence between casualties. Yuichiro didn’t know the man, and he knew he didn’t have cause to think he took any pleasure in this course of events, but he couldn’t forgive how unmoved his tone seemed. Maybe Yuichiro was being too judgemental, but he couldn’t look past the grief pouring out of his chest to see Sakamochi as anything more than a cruel tyrant, a product of the dictatorship he had known his whole life. It unnerved him that he could be so unforgiving, but it was true.

His copy of Great Teacher Onizuka lay on the bed, placed with great reverence next to the collected pair of guns. He had read it cover to cover, twice, because what else was there to do? Yet it wasn’t until he had looked at the book after the announcements, Onizuka’s face grinning back at him, that It had made him realise the most important truth. Onizuka didn’t reach those kids by standing around, offering them a chance to turn over new leaves by themselves, or wait for them to come up with the solutions. He had helped them by taking action, even in that action had been harsh at times. He had rolled up his sleeves, did what he could, and somehow it had all worked out.

Yuichiro needed to be like that. He needed to roll up his own sleeves, leave his ivory manga tower, and find his friends. He didn’t know how he would stop the killings, or whether he’d even succeed. In all likelihood, he wouldn't be able to do anything, as was the norm. But he knew he was definitely not going to do anything by just staying put and waiting for everyone else to sort things out. There had been more deaths than was acceptable at the time of the very first death, and now they were up to twelve. No more!

He took the old black tie that he had found in the closet, a souvenir from the lighthouse keeper’s trip away from the island and wrapped it around his head as a Joseph Joestar-headband. Was it badass, or just kind of stupid? Given how small he was, it probably didn’t look the least bit intimidating. If Sugimara-san was still alive, he could pull this off a million times better. But it gave him the courage, that maybe he could be as strong as a Joestar, or Sugimara-san.

He then took the cigarettes he had found in the drawer in the bedside table and placed one in his mouth. He had never smoked before, and the taste of it didn’t tempt him to light it up, but it was another trademark of the coolest anime heroes. The lighter sat in his pocket for now, ready to be used at a signature moment. He had no idea what that moment would be, but he was prepared.

He looked at the pale imitation of his beloved television champions reflecting back at him. He knew it wasn’t much, or really anything, but it was enough. He nodded. Yosh.

With guns stowed in bags, supplies stocked, his manga bible carefully stored, and the light growing dim outside, Yuichiro took his leave of the lighthouse. There was no more time to waste.

((Yuichiro Takiguchi continued in I'd like to do just whatever I like the whole day long))