Diary of Miserable Memory

In my home, I used to ask my parents to come with my friends for a leisurely bond such as a movie date, table-top role-playing games, and anything deserving, but they refused me from doing so since I had to secure my priorities on studying. I was also the sole child who relied on a parent's consent, even though smiles couldn't please them with difficulties because they struggled on their financial debts, which I couldn't care about…. I don't know…. I couldn't even comprehend their harsh things. Whenever they argued with each other, the topic was always money, regrets, and somewhat… foul blood. It happened often, and I couldn't take it while plugging earphones into my ears and drawing some art was my only resolve—at least.

By the time I was 13 years old, they finally divorced, leaving me alone in a solitary room of gloom. If you're wondering about the reason, well, it was me who decided it with nothing to return, although a kind landlord offered me to take care of me since he heard about their rough background about my parents. He said it was disaster for them—some sort of "yakuza", and my mother was a prostitute. 

In my school, there were a bunch of douches and bitches who tried to mess up my artwork such as dropping their juices on my piece and sometimes putting their trash in my case bag. If you were wondering what was the reason, it might be absurd to hear—it was being an otaku of me…. Yes, there were many cases that a lot of pop idols and actresses throughout Japan had been assaulted by none other than otaku themselves, especially the freaks, and what they were thinking of me was stereotypical to consider. I don't know and care about it, but it always happened daily, even if I tried to avoid them. The reasoning made sense, but… in what case?

There was also a talented actress named Akari Takizawa who was my next-door neighbor, childhood friend, and classmate of mine who looked up to me since she attracted my kindness despite hearing more displeasure, but whenever I approached near her, most douches and bitches which were her coterie of friends shoved me away from them since I might try to persuade her with a threat that I had no intentions to begin with. However, she still smiled whenever we met together in the apartment despite my vain sense, so I also treated and wondered her back with respect and liking.

I was an undeserving existence who lingered over my personal indulgence, yet the one who treated me well was her… only her all along.

Even now, I am still tired of feeling the stomp from their grumpy shoes and hearing "wasted being" many times from these douches and bitches.

-  Aoki Sasaki  -

* * *

The curly blue-haired, sapphire-eyed man in gray garb and blue cloak had been sitting on the stair and tapping his feet on the plank amid the alley. He was observing the bowl cut boy whom he found suspicious from his witness of perilous prospect. The reason for it was the rotating black smoke on the wound of his side-chest. The bluish-glittering shackle on the boy's wrists and ankles, sticking him on the wall, had helped him to secure from his escape.

For now, he waited.

Until the eyes of the bowl cut boy opened from deep blank to blurry sight. He moaned, feeling firm on his hands and feet with his uncertainty whether he woke up in an unfamiliar place, although it was still the same as it was.

"Where… am… I?" he mumbled.

Hearing his words, the man in gray garb replied, "You're in the alley, middle of the Western District of the Capital City of Dore."

"Oh…"

After he heard the answer, he gasped, broadening his eyes of cloudless vision and then seeing the waited man in gray garb. He jiggled his hands and feet with a jangle of chain, but the shackles blocked it from his attempt for freedom, which he found with his flinching eyes and sweats on his forehead.

"Capital City of Dore? Am I not dead yet?" he asked.

"Yes, although I had seen your stab-wound before you closed your eyes from out-of-consciousness, but it was quite peculiar for me to pique my curiosity." 

"Then, what the hell is going? Is the kid okay?," he raised his voice. "And why did you chain me up?!"

"To ask you for something… and also the kid is unfortunately dead."

Listening to his remorse, Aoki blinked, bowing his head down. Although there was nothing to change the fact, he instead moved on from it.

"S–Something?" he slurred, thinking he might be guilty of his uncontrollable actions. "Sir, you may misunderstand me from my act—."

"Nope, I'm not talking about the splendid moral actions you made to avenge the dead kid. I'm talking about your ability that crossed my mind."

"Ability?"

"But first," he pointed his fingers at the side. "Try to check the wound on your side-chest."

The bowl cut boy lowered his head and glanced at where the finger pointed at—the side of his chest, finding that the wound had disappeared with no scar from the pang. He gaped his eyes and mouth with the surprising result of a miracle.

"What the hell? I even remembered how I got stabbed by the knife… but I think I also went out of control."

"Hm…" he rubbed his chin. "Out of control, eh? I barely missed some minutes in the middle of the scene, but it was a good thing for me to skip the time across my stumbling presence."

"Huh?"

"Or perhaps I am getting nearer to my supposed investigation."

"About me?"

"Nope. The drug piracy case."

The man in gray garb stood up from his seat and snapped his finger, dispersing the glittering chain on the boy's wrists and ankles with the clink of release. The bowl cut boy fell down on the ground, although it was a short vertical meter for him to land on the safe ground. He then brushed his light brown blazer to wash the dirt out on it, but he suddenly gasped with his throb of guilt as soon as he saw the wet bloodstains on his palm and blazer.

"Am I going to be safe for this?" he asked the man in gray garb.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "Because we're going to a vicious place."

"Are you insisting me to do so?"

"I leave the choice to you if you want to showcase your true colors," he smirked, hunching and bowing down with his formal palming gesture.

The bowl cut boy thought, Don't treat me like a player.

He scratched his head and looked around his surroundings with his vigilant eyes, suspecting that there might be more brutes to come. Thinking about it, these brutes whom he encountered and killed them with a wooden axe of wrath were booting onto the swollen kid's stomach, and it reminded him with desperate sympathy. Staring at the kid's swollen corpse had been horrendous for him to vomit like the same thing happened in the chapel amid the nightmarish night, but his conscious grip handled his gulp of throat from its unleashing temptation of embarrassment.

The man in gray garb patted on the boy's shoulder as he consoled him from distress.

"You can walk away from me whenever you want."

Although the harsh recall came to his mind, it insisted him to draw his decision.

"If I go with you, would I recover my distress?"

Hearing the boy's ultimate words of agreement, the man in gray garb piqued from it, allowing himself to ask for a confirmation.

"Are you sure? If you feel uncomfortable with your expectations, I'll give you a second chance."

Hearing his suggestion could change his mind, but the harsh memory still came into his puzzling mind. So he paused for a moment, thinking if he would shape himself to wash out from his holdback of angst. If he would hold back to it, what would be his destiny to change and fulfill his development?—remembering the promise in front of Akari's eyes and ears to cure his apathy. 

He blew the gust and fixed his sincere eyes and posture.

"I'll go with you even if it seems inept for me to handle," the boy answered.

"Looks like you're a worthy man to get out of his cage," he laughed, appreciating his confident utterance.

"What's so funny about it?"

"Nothing," he grinned.

"Eh?"

"Then, allow me to introduce myself," he spoke with his sincere accent, hunching down his upper chest and bowing with his open right hand and arm while placing his left arm on the back of his hip with the swish of blue cloak. "My name is Cecil van Pleiades, a magician with the honorable title of 'Midnight Star'. Fancy meeting you here coincidentally."

The bowl cut boy felt astonished with the gape, leaving him a scratch on his head although his fingernails had gone sharper from its exceeding span. At least, he had finally got his name to know him well.

With that, he opened his right palm and arm and bowed to show his sincere greeting.

"Nice to meet you too. My name is Aoki Sasaki. I'm sevente…. Um…. eighteen-year-old man with full confidence and smiles!"

His puzzling words entertained the man named Cecil with a grateful laughter and bright smile of praise.

"Now, let a fun begins~"

* * *

The pair of youthful men named Aoki Sasaki and Cecil van Pleiades had been searching around the alleyway and found something that Cecil caught his sense of. At this rate, they stood beside a certain three-level concrete building with a busy clunk and constant groan of tiredness, even if it was about fifteen meters of range to hear. Listening to their moans could make Aoki clenching his fist.

"Judging by the activity and tone from the inside, this seems to be the labor for all the sake of money. If you still remember the brutes in the alleyway, they're apparently the same gangs in the same organization inside this building." Cecil said, glancing at the window.

"What is your aim then?" Aoki asked.

"Eliminating the supplies of their 'own' aphrodisiac and also freeing the children from forced labor."

"Is it some sort of love potion that can corrupt girls into bitches?"

"Men can be affected too, but I hope these fragrances will not be ineffective… especially your ability."

"You sound like you're relying on me."

He chuckled, "You have got what I think of."

Then, he sought the hidden entry point and entered the building, prowling through to avoid distractions. The happening of labor seemed to have some children doing their tasks such as plowing the soil, carrying the boxes towards the cart carriage, and harvesting pinkish roses. The brutes in brown coats were patrolling around with their muskets to guard the kids from escaping. The faces of kids looked like they got drained with their dull eyes and flagging arms from their tiresome tasks, yet the adult brutes still forced them to continue even if they caught sick.

"Are these kids, orphans?" Aoki muttered.

"Most likely to be the case."

"So what's your plan for now?"

"We're not going to stealth through everywhere but to fire it up towards the explosives if there are no kids near it."

I doubt this will be much safer, he thought, sighing from his unexpected words.

Wiggling his eyes to find some flammable materials, Cecil cracked his fingers with the clear focus and confident smile until he gaped his mouth as he found the barrels of gunpowder within the room of two brutes who were playing the game of cards. Although he still stood up behind the half of the wall beside the door, he opened his pair of hands, forming like a wrap of orb except it left a suitable space between. Then, the curly orange-glittering ball, forming like a fireball, had converged as it was revolving between the hands until the process had finished its form.

"If you have sensitive ears, make sure to cover your ears if you must," Cecil advised, swaying back his hands and elbows for a bit. "Here comes the fireworks!"

As Aoki was uncertain to hear explosions, he palmed his pair of ears with a clutch on it, sealing it as a soundproof convenience.

Then, Cecil threw the glowing ball of fire like a baseball at the room of explosive barrels in moderate meters, passing and disrupting the men who were sitting on the chair and playing cards.

Bullseye.

It hit through the barrels, resulting in a bloom of boom with a fiery pressure which shoved the men in brown coats to death, the creak of broken woods, and the grind of cracked concrete. 

Meanwhile, the gangs including the kids heard the booming sound and saw the flying burned corpses with their panicked eyes and ears.

"Go back to your stations! I said, go back to your stations!!"

They shouted from it, triggering the kids to run away from the building while the adult brutes felt irascible by yawping at them to gather back, although it was too late.

"Just as according to my plan," Cecil chuckled, gripping his three daggers from the holsters on his cloak. "Aoki Sasaki, grab one!"

Cecil unsheathed one dagger and tossed it at Aoki, and Aoki caught it with his brittle hands since it was too sharp and then got scratched on his hand even if it was for his self-protection.

"Woah~"

"I thought you have good reflexes," Cecil said.

"I'm not getting used to it."

He sighed, "Good luck for you then."

As one man in brown coats witnessed the culprits who were standing beside the wall, he shouted, pointing his fingers at them and warning others to suspect the culprits.

"There they are!!"

Although Cecil heard it, he shot with his one-handed flintlock at his head and tossed the ball of fire on the floor, sprinkling the flames onto them like a Molotov. After which he had done it, he guided Aoki towards the next safe point—which was upstairs for their overview. The remaining brown coats were aiming and shooting towards them in one shot while others ran away to inform someone, maybe. His purpose amid the building of labor was to locate every supply around this place. 

After unsheathing his twin daggers, Cecil dashed and slashed at some men in brown coats who stood in front of him, even if his excellent grip on daggers withstood himself while Aoki was struggling to fight back with his flinching grip against the enemies in arms, inflicting some scratches on his arms and cheeks. Cecil could block every bullet by summoning the Forcefield Shield in front of his open palm while running towards the cover, then hurling a greenish fireball with a mix of poison on some nearby enemies.

The screams from the burning occurrence satisfied Cecil with his grin of self-praise.

"Woah," Aoki gasped, feeling surprised by his impressive magic. "You can cast a magic spell without speaking some words?"

"I always keep inside my mind whenever I dare," Cecil smirked.

It was true. He minded the figures and characteristics alike to cast the spell without a single word of chant. Because of how his craft was the level of a mastermind, he could create anything to please himself from every incoming obstacle with his spells—no need to be tricky unless it would be convenient.

For now, they had been crouching and covering behind the half wall amid the second floor. Aoki was shivering while Cecil was calming his eyes to peek without warning. Cecil could hear the tap of feet and breath of hostile brutes, but until he heard something.

Silence.

He lifted his head up from the cover—it revealed to be empty but flames and burned corpses. Then he stood up while Aoki followed his stance for their safe state. More like Cecil handled everything since there was no wave of enemies coming by, but he still doubted with his vigilant eyes rolling around to search everywhere within the radius.

"Looks like we can conclude the case."

Cecil cast more flaming curtains with his flicking fingers, dancing around the pinkish roses and boxes of supplies. It burned them with its obliteration in no use. The widespread fires around the inside of the building gratified him with his quivering head to crack his neck. It could cross near them, so he twitched his fingers to instruct Aoki to come along for an escape.

"It's not over yet," Cecil said. "More reinforcements will come soon, so all we need to do is to find a horse for a ride."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Possibly, but we have to act up right now."

With that, they rushed while avoiding the flames to catch up near them as if it might be possible to block the path of escape. The blaze had grown bigger and bigger, and the withering heat had sweated them with nervous tears in their eyes. Their exhausting breath had no match, even if the blazing hazards came near to them. Aoki bit his lower lip to render himself a soothing hope to live and survive while Cecil worked on his way by swishing and shoving the incoming flame with artificial wind—Air Dance.

"There," Aoki called Cecil, pointing his finger at the open gap. "This should be our one way to escape."

Cecil nodded, rushing along Aoki towards the finish line.

Thus, they got out of the building, panting to catch up their oxygen. The rest of triumph provided them to liven up their spirits from intense puzzles. The dancing, glittering flames even shattered the glass windows and passed through it outside, waltzing around. With their rolling heads and eyes, Cecil found a horse carriage with no roof and half-panel and rushed along with Aoki towards it, climbing and sitting tight into it—leading themselves to a complete getaway. Cecil sat on the driver's seat and gripped the rein as a role for his quick consideration.

However, Cecil heard the gradual yet hasty clip-clopping sound from dozens of meters away, turning his head behind and seeing the men in brown coats horse riding towards them.

"We got some company approaching us," Cecil said, whipping the rein on the horse to neigh. "Time to tighten our horses!"

"Wait! Let me hold on first!"

No matter what they needed to hold on, the pair of horses responded to their call by galloping forward with the rumble of haste. The carriage which they rode on had been jiggling from its brief rush, tripping Aoki from his unsteady feet, until reaching on the road with a steady rush relieved them although the men in brown coats were still approaching. The one who could observe was Aoki, staying in the carriage and holding the panel, but the surrounding boxes bothered him and the weight of the carriage.

"We're going to die!" Aoki screamed.

"Cover behind the boxes if you want to increase your surviving possibility."

With that, Aoki hid behind the box and covered himself from the sight of the hostile horsemen. Although most boxes were wobbling, he could seek from every side, but it always remained immobile. From touching some thorny pieces of wood, he felt the bleeding on his fingers.

"Fuck," Aoki cried, feeling like a rollercoaster ride. "Oh, fuck!"

Meanwhile, Cecil did an excellent job at dodging most people and slow carriages by reining the horses and avoiding from hitting the obstacles, especially the citizens who were walking around and wondering why the carriage was hurrying until the horsemen behind it revealed their curiosity. It was his dare to shift the road side-by-side while the horsemen were struggling to aim and shot at them.

Despite their difficulty, they instead rushed near the carriage for the clear range and aimed their flintlock pistols at them on the moving carriages, firing at the driver and sole passenger although the wobbling boxes blocked it. After their shots had missed them, they instead gripped their rapiers while their single hand still grasped on the rein.

"Ah! They're going to kill us!" Aoki cried once again.

"No no no," Cecil laughed, gripping his one-handed flintlock and firing towards one horseman. "It will be fun!"

"How is it fun when these guys are chasing us to kill?"

"Have you remembered the agreement to run away from me?"

"Oh…" Aoki said and thought. Why was I even doing here?

"Forget about it," Cecil replied, casting a reddish glowing bit of sprinkles on his palm and lobbing it with a rumbling sound above his head. "This should offer us help." 

After Aoki saw the flare above them, he asked, "What are you going to do about that?"

"Just wait for a moment."

Cecil whistled as if he smirked with his calm eyes despite the perilous chase to them while Aoki grumbled.

* * *

Meanwhile, there were multiple riflemen in orange coats who had stood and congregated behind one road amid the junction, holding their muskets with their pair of grips against their shoulders in relaxed positions while some of them had been guiding the citizens to evacuate from the scene. One of them who led this company was the short-bearded man in a golden frock coat who had his middling blonde strands swaying to the right, sitting on the horse behind the gunners. With his smirk and sharp eyes, he cracked each of his fingers and inhaled the gust of oxygen.

As soon as he sighted the carriage approaching them, he pointed his finger and called.

"Ready your arms!"

With his words, the riflemen grasped on the barrel bands and held the trigger, preparing for a shot and waiting for a next command.

Hurrying until it hit the junction, the driver in blue hair reined the horses to the right, exposing the rear chasing horsemen. As the hostile horsemen saw the line of gunners, they flinched their grip of rein.

"Fire!"

With that, they shot towards them, killing the horsemen and spreading the white smokes over their muzzles and flints.

They did it.

"Oh, boy!" the man in blonde hair cheered. "That was great timing!"

After they shot at them, the riflemen cleaned their nozzles and reloaded one shot into their musket.

Meanwhile, the one who drove and reined the carriage was a curly blue-haired man named Cecil van Pleiades. He dropped the rein and jumped off from the driver's seat, walking towards the short-bearded man who dismounted from his horse and landed his feet on the ground, approaching Cecil.

"Man, your horse riding impressed me, you filled me with jealousy," the blonde man laughed.

Cecil teased, "Said by the one who was just standing up while sitting on the horse, Fred."

"Hey, I still got the shot, okay?" he exhorted. "Also, this was your favor to me, so you must buy some drinks for me."

"I know. I know," he sighed and smiled. "How many times do I have to say that again?"

"Anyway, is your 'drug piracy case' done? You might just inform me immediately, even if I still have some paperworks to do."

"Maybe I will or will not. I can just deal with myself whenever I want to."

"Fine, but don't surprise me like the last time when you try so hard to find your purse."

"I know. That's why I only have brought some coins to suit my needs."

The man named Fred heard the call from his troops after they had done their reloading process, so he patted on Cecil's one shoulder, winking and grinning in front of his frustrated face.

"Meet me at the tavern."

After Fred greeted him with a farewell, he walked towards his men while Cecil approached the carriage, checking whether the boy was fine.

As soon as he reached the back of the carriage and climbed up, the bowl cut boy had collapsed on the plank with bleeds from his nose and forehead; he had also scratches on his bruised knees and hands. Although his chest was still pumping, his unconsciousness made Cecil—feeling guilty over his reckless rush.

"Shit," he paused, heading towards Aoki's body and nudging on his pulse with his fingers. "At least, he's still alive."

He lifted and laid his body—bending his torso against the panel of the carriage. He then headed and jumped towards the driver's seat, gripping the rein and whipping on the horses to start their ride.

"I guess I have to go to my mother for this," he sighed. "I hope she won't embarrass me with her deep curiosity."