Chapter 1 (Cutting to the fire)
Snip.
The sharp sound pulled Zack from the
recesses of sleep.
Snip-snip-snip.
What’s
going on? Zack opened his
eyes.
Sena, the Japanese woman he began
dating seven years ago, stood beside the bed, looming over him in blue jeans
and a pink T-shirt. She held part of his suit jacket in her left hand and a
pair of scissors in her right.
A jolt of energy zipped down Zack’s
spine, and he screamed. Then, he scrambled to the other side of the bed. His
hand slipped over the edge. Thunk! He crashed into the floor. “Sena! What the
fuck?” After rubbing his head, he clambered to his feet.
While Sena’s brown eyes followed his
every motion, her long, untied, jet-black hair swayed back and forth. “How many
times do I have to tell you?” Sena’s shrill voice ground the
English language like coffee beans.
Her flat chest heaved.
“What the fuck are you talking
about?” Zack glanced down at his favorite suit that he had accidently fallen
asleep in.
Several holes and entire sections of
the jacket were missing. The pants had been cut to ribbons.
A stampede of blood collided with
his brain. His teeth ground together, and he clenched his fists until his
knuckles turned white. “How could you do this? Why would you do this?”
Sena climbed atop the queen-sized
bed and strode towards him.
Thump. His heart leaped into his
throat, and he swallowed. Before he lost control of his temper, he took a deep
breath. “Fuck it! I don’t care.”
Sena took another step forward. She
screamed. The high-pitched screech
bit into his ears like fingernails sliding down a blackboard.
Zack’s toes curled. “Shut up!” He backed up to the sliding glass doors that
led to the back-porch. What’s her problem
today? Everything was so nice yesterday.
The
stomach turning screech died out. Sena blinked, and the scissors trembled in her grasp.
From
behind him, bits of sunlight shined through the drawn blinds.
His
left leg began tapping.
A
boiling sound rolled from the kitchen and into the bedroom.
Zack
sniffed.
The delightful scent of curry floated on
the air.
Zack’s
brow wrinkled. “Are you cooking?”
“I
was!” A feral growl rumbled through her
thinned lips, and despite being over a foot shorter than him, her presence
filled the room. “Before you fucked up again!”
What did I do? Zack sighed. “I don’t care what set you off!
What you did to my favorite suit —” He gestured to the holes and exposed flesh.
“— is unforgivable!”
Sena
lunged forward.
Zack
grabbed her by the wrist and lifted her into the air. I need to get out of here and calm down before I do something I regret.
While
squirming in his arms, Sena squealed. “You’ll regret this!”
I already do. Zack tossed her out of the
bedroom and slammed the door shut.
The
door handle raddled.
With a
firm grip, Zack locked the door.
Thunk!
The scissors stabbed through the door.
Zack’s
eyes bulged. What the fuck did I do?
Stomping
sounds moved away from the bedroom.
After
taking a deep breath, Zack removed his ruined suit and then put on a new one
with pinstripes. Once he grabbed his favorite pink tie, wallet and cellphone,
he unlocked the door. A long moment
later, he opened it and peeked
outside. “Sena?”
Nothing.
Zack
stepped into the kitchen then looked around the corner into the living room.
Sena
stood in the center of the living room with a torch lighter in one hand and his
precious sketchbook in the other.
His
breath caught. Thump! His heart slammed into his chest like one of the
jackhammers making noise outside of his apartment.
That sketchbook contained his best
work: a lifetime of final drafts that he had spent months and months perfecting
on blank pieces of paper. There were art collectors who wanted to buy some of
his sketches, yet he turned them down because they were his babies.
Zack’s blood turned into ice, and he shook his head. “Sena … .” He held
his hands out towards her. “Think about what you’re doing.”
A
smirk split her face. “I have.” Sena ignited the lighter.
Tears
rimmed Zack’s eyes. “Don’t —”
“If I
don’t teach you a lesson now, you’ll never learn.” Sena placed the flame
against the sketchbook.
Zack
dashed forward.
The
fire engulfed the dry paper in an
instant.
When
she dropped the burning ashes onto the floor, Zack froze. His lower-lip
quivered, and his knees weakened. Then, he
gritted his teeth and cocked his fist back. His muscles trembled.
Sena
snarled.
Thump.
His heart fell into his stomach, and Zack turned away from her. While tears
flowed down his cheeks, he sniffled.
Smack!
Sena slapped him in the side of the head.
A wince scrunched his shoulders together. He
rubbed at the spot she had hit then glanced at her.
Sena
raised her hand. “How many —”
Zack
spun and pushed her away from him.
He rushed down the hallway, and
after shuffling into his shoes, burst out the front door. I can’t believe she did that. As if walking through the desert, he
trudged away from his apartment and into the gravel-filled parking lot around the twelve-story mansion — a large
Japanese apartment building.
The
morning light of the noon-day sun reflected off of the three cars in the large
parking lot.
Zack
shuffled up to one of the cars and rubbed at his bloodshot, hazel eyes while they looked back at his disheveled,
blond hair. I have to get it
together before —
From behind, a door clicked open. Thud! The door crashed
into a wall.
“Get
your lazy ass back here right now!”
Sena’s voice echoed across the near empty
parking lot and into the construction site next door.
Zack froze in place then swallowed.
“No.” You can do this, Zack. His hands trembled. Just stand up to her. “I’ve —” Stop
thinking and do it! “— had enough of you … for one day.”
“You’ve
had enough of me? Me?”
Smack!
Something hit him between the shoulder blades.
Zack’s
knees buckled, but he caught himself
before falling. He glanced down.
A high-heeled shoe.
“Sena —” Without turning, Zack ducked. Too predictable.
A
second high-heeled shoe whizzed
overhead. Thud! The black high-heel
slammed into the car beside him.
Zack
spun then glared at her. His jaw tightened, and he balled his hands into fists. “Stop
throwing things at me!”
“Stop leaving the toilet seat up!”
“You burned my sketchbook and cut up my favorite suit for that?” His voice rolled from the parking long and into the alley beside the Love
Hotel. He bared his teeth. “Every day, you get crazier and —”
Sena
spat before marching forward in her
purple house slippers. She grabbed
him by his pink tie. “I swear that
if you ever do it again —”
By inhaling through the nose and
exhaling out the mouth, Zack relaxed the tension in his muscles.
Using her free hand, she
grabbed him by his hair and jerked his head back.
Zack
yelped.
“— I will stab you with a knife and make you clean up the blood.” Sena
stared into his eyes.
Zack
gulped.
A snarl wrinkled her forehead.
Sena pulled at his hair again. “Are we clear?”
“Whatever.”
“That’s
not the correct answer.” Sena tugged on his hair once again.
While
fighting the urge to strike a woman, Zack set his jaw. “Fine! I understand! Now let me go before I do
something we both regret!”
Sena
released his hair. “As long as you —”
“Short-tempered
bitch.” Zack straightened his pinstriped jacket.
With incredible speed, Sena’s hand
shot forward.
Zack knocked it away. “I’ll
come back when you calm the fuck down.”
Sena
growled.
After retreating to the sidewalk, Zack walked down the road towards Nishi-Funabashi
station. Why is she always like
this?
The rotten squid-like smell from the
Love Hotel’s open dumpster on the left and the clanging sounds of construction
from the right intermingled. Together, they pushed him down the road in a haze.
With each step, loose gravel shuffled under his feet. A pair of garbage trucks
rumbled past. The stink of hot garbage moved with the wind and slammed into his
face like a tsunami.
Zack gagged. Acidic bile climbed up
and burned his throat.
The world turned, and a dizzy spell
twisted his stomach.
Zack wobbled up to the dreaded
overpass and grabbed onto the rail. He paused for a long moment. Whoever thought putting one step where there
should be two is an asshole.
On the
other side of the overpass, the
walkway forked to the left and right.
Small apartments cluttered the area with
a few trees here and there. The tiny road to the left led towards a large
highway while the path to the right took him through a graveyard — the quickest
way to the train station.
After walking past a pair of large, Japanese
gravestones, Zack glanced in the direction of his apartment and sighed. I should go back and tell her I’m sorry.
Maybe — He shook his head. No! I
won’t go running back to her this time! No fucking way! I … . He hurried down the walkway. Must …
be … strong.
Around
the station, people milled about in
an undulating mess. They pushed back and forth, going in every direction. Several independent conversations filled
the air more than the heavenly scent of yakitori — Japanese chicken on a stick that smelled like barbeque cooked on a mesquite
grill.
Zack’s mouth watered. He stepped up to
Yaki-NJ’s yakitori stand and licked his
lips.
The old man, Yaki-NJ, looked at Zack and arched a
gray-haired eyebrow. “Have another fight with Sena?” he asked in
Japanese before tightening his white
bandana.
Zack
nodded. “Today,” he said in his best Japanese accent, “she cut up my favorite suit and then burned … my sketchbook.”
A train rumbled down the tracks to
his right. A block further, the yellow-striped train stopped at Nishi-Funabashi
station.
After
shaking his balding head, Yaki-NJ
pulled out a pair of basic yakitori, dipped them in sauce and then slapped them onto the grill. He wiped
his hand on the greasy towel tied to his belt then pulled on the collar of his
white T-shirt. “If the two
of you keep fighting like this, I don’t think you should stay together.”
“I
know … .”
“Then
why haven’t you broken up with her?”
“I
have before, but whenever I try to meet
new girls, they only want to fuck. None of them are ever interested in a
relationship.” Zack swallowed. “The
worst part is, the longer me and Sena are apart, the more I feel guilty. I
often think that maybe I deserved the beating despite how petty her reasoning
was.”
“How long have the two of you been together?”
“More than seven years.”
Yaki-NJ
whistled. “Wow. Was she always abusive?”
“No. While we were in college together over in
the US, she was an angel.” Zack picked
up the yakitori and took a bite. “But when I moved to Japan —”
A tingling sensation itched at the back of his
neck.
Shivers raced down his legs. What’s going on? Zack glanced to his
left.
Nothing but the usual sea of people
After taking another bite, Zack
looked to the right.
Among the crowd between Zack and the train
tracks, a large, Japanese
man strode up to a blond-haired, Japanese woman. For some odd reason, it felt like Zack, the man
and the women were the only people in the area. A white oval appeared in the
air beside the man, and he reached into it. His hand and forearm vanished into
the picture-like object. A moment later, he drew a small white-knife from it.
Zack’s
eyes bulged, and his breath sputtered.
What
just happened?
Yaki-NJ
peered in the same direction. “What is it?”
Zack pointed at the man amid the milling crowd.
“He looks like he’s about to stab her.”
“With
what? His fist?”
“No, the knife.”
Yaki-NJ
narrowed his eyes. “I can’t see a knife from here. Is it in his pocket or
something?”
How can you not see it? Zack ground his foot into the pavement.
“Never mind. I guess I’m just —”
The man slashed through the straps of
the woman’s Louis Vuitton purse and
snatched it from her grasp.
The
woman screamed.
The man pushed through the crowd and sprinted
towards Zack.
Not a single Japanese person lifted
a finger to stop the man.
Adrenaline raced through Zack’s body. I have to do something
In his mind, Sena said, “How many
times have I told you not to cause trouble? I won’t bail you out of jail again!”
Zack’s muscles froze. He swallowed then stepped aside.
When the man ran past, he met Zack’s eyes. A snarl crossed the man’s lips, but he didn’t stop.
Zack blinked. “Huh?” Where did the knife go?
Yaki-NJ sighed. “Are you okay, Zack?
You could have gotten hurt if you didn’t move.”
Zack’s hands trembled. “I’m … fine.”
He munched the yakitori down and
placed two-hundred yen onto the counter. “Thanks for the chat, but after all of that, I need to
drink.”
Yaki-NJ
laughed. “Try not to pick up too many
girls.”
Zack’s
heart sank. “What good would it do?”
“I’m
sure you’ll find someone to spend
the rest of your life with.”
“I
have … and I’m miserable.” Zack trudged
towards the Daily Yamazaki — a convenience store.
“You
know what I mean,” Yaki-NJ said from behind. “One day, a good woman will come along and not treat you like shit!”
I wish. After stumbling into the Daily Yamazaki, Zack grabbed a couple of Chu-Hais.
He wanted to get drunk but wasn’t
in a beer mood, and the lemon-flavored Shochu Highball packed quite the punch.
The freckle-faced high school
girl behind the register rang him
up, but she never bothered looking at anything other than his eyes. A grin the
size of Mt Fuji grew across her face.
Zack
paid the three-hundred and twenty
yen before breaking eye contact. Then, he
moved towards the door.
She made kissing sounds.
Zack ignored her.
Back outside the Daily Yamazaki, police
spoke with the woman who had her purse stolen as well as Yaki-NJ.
Zack cracked open one of the
Chu-Hais and downed it on the way into
Nishi-Funabashi station. A warm sensation filled his body, and the heavy
weight disappeared from his shoulders. He touched his Suica — a train card — to the electronic
receiver at the ticket gate and
walked through it. After working his way
down to the Chuo-Sobu-line platform, he stretched.
Farther down the platform, a large man
stared at Zack.
Zack
swallowed. Shit, shit, shit! I
shouldn’t have pointed him out to Yaki-NJ.
The
large thief — Thiefsy as Zack now called
him — grinned.
“A
train bound for Chiba is arriving,” the automated male voice said over the
intercom. “Please stand behind the yellow line.”
Maybe … . Zack dashed across the Chuo-Sobu-line platform and hopped on
the train heading towards Chiba.
Thiefsy followed.
Thump-thump.
Zack’s heart pounded against his chest. As if someone were tickling him, his neck tingled once again. Wait for it … . He pretended to sit down.
Thiefsy sauntered towards the train-car
Zack was in.
Beep-ding,
beep-ding, beep-ding. The doors began to close.
While holding his breath, Zack bolted out of the train.
The
doors shut.
Thiefsy slammed his fist against the door. That strange white-dagger glowed in his grip.
The train took off.
Zack
sighed before stumbling across the
Chuo-Sobu-line platform and onto
the yellow-striped train bound for
Tokyo.
Only
one place could take his mind off of Sena and that psychotic thief. Well, in
one of her bipolar-like rages, Sena was probably more psychotic one.
Twenty-seven minutes later, Zack walked out of
Akihabara station. A few Long-Islands
from the Hub will make the world
right.
Buzz-buzz. In his pocket, his cellphone vibrated.
Zack ignored the phone call and stepped onto the
sidewalk where the late afternoon
sun blazed overhead.
With neon lights attached to every towering
building, bargains were easy to
find. Despite that, screaming solicitors covered the streets of
Akihabara — or Electric City as most in the Kanto region called it. Loud music
blasted from every storefront. The stink
of week-old socks hung in the air.
Bile rumbled up Zack’s throat, and he gagged.
After swallowing, he took a deep breath through his mouth. At least the smell is not as bad as it usually
is.
A cute
solicitor in the ace-contact uniform approached
him with a coupon. Her orange hat and tight, white vest whistled
whenever the wind brushed past it.
Zack
leaned in close, almost nose to nose with her and winked. “Sorry, I have
perfect eyes.”
The solicitor stared into his deep, hazel
eyes like every other Japanese woman did and
blushed. “I … agree.”
Oh god. While smiling, Zack cracked open
his second Chu-Hai. I better get out of here before —
Buzz-buzz.
Who the fuck is calling me? Zack reached
into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Sorry, little lady, I have to
take this.” I guess that’s as good an
excuse as any not to do something with her that I’d regret.
Sena’s
name flashed across the display.
Is she calling to bitch at me again? Zack took a big gulp of his Chu-Hai and
strolled over to a random
storefront’s loudspeaker. I hope this works.
Vibrations rolled over his skin while an
automated voice talked about the day’s sales. Some J-pop tune played in the
background.
Making sure the receiver faced the
speaker, Zack flipped open his cellphone and placed it to his ear.
“Hello?” he asked, switching back to English.
“Why
is it so loud?” Sena’s words snapped like a whip.
“Just
a loud area.”
“Fine!”
“Fine,
what? I’m the one who’s pissed off!”
Sena
sniffled.
Fuck, I can already feel the guilt washing
over me. With an iron grip, Zack squeezed
the can of Chu-Hai. “What is it, now?”
“I-I …
I never want to see you again.”
Zack’s
heart stopped for a long moment. Fuck me with a knife. Thump. The heartbeat hit him
in the chest like a sledgehammer. He gasped. His stomach clenched. To keep his lower-lip from quivering,
Zack bit into it. Then, he
swallowed. I must have misheard. He
stumbled away from the loudspeaker.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“It’s
over.” Sena’s voice cracked. “For real
this time. I’m going to stay with my parents until you get your stuff
out of here.”
This is new. Tears rolled down Zack’s
cheeks. “Fine … but I’m not moving out until I can find a place I like.” He pressed his toes against the souls of his shiny black, dress shoes.
“Fine,
but you better start looking!” Crack! Sena
ended the call by slamming
her cellphone shut.
The
can of Chu-Hai slipped from his grasp. Thwap. It hit the ground. Chu-Hai
fountained out onto his legs.
Despite
the fact that this suit was dry-clean only, Zack trudged through the carbonated beverage. His vision blurred.
Next: WATCHING sample scene
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