To Live After Life

Chapter 2: Blood Red Moon

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“What? Is that all?” the manager bellowed out angrily.

“After yesterday’s antics – and now you refuse to wor-“

“-I’m sorry sir, I was just thinking abou-“

“And on top of that, you dare to interrupt your superior! Huh?! And only to offer useless excuses! I knew I should have just fired you on the spot! Have you forgotten who has given you everything? Huh?! And you dare to treat me this way? You’re worthless! A loser! A nobody!”

Maybe it was the alcohol still flowing through the salaryman’s system, maybe it was the manager’s poor grammar – or perhaps it was the news he had received yesterday – but he could no longer bow, it was tiresome, so he decided to stand instead. Looking down at his manager he thought;

What am I even doing here?

“What’s this?! Huh? Are you going to bite the hand that feeds you? I’ll make sure you never find work in this ci- no, in Japan, ever again!” the manager continued to shriek.

“…I don’t…” the salaryman sniggered one last time before throwing his life away, “I don’t care. I’m tired.”

“I knew it! It’s as I said, you’re worthless! Usele-“ 

“I!” the salaryman interrupted, “I-My name…is Kuroko JUROU!”

As the words flung out of his mouth, he puffed out his chest, connecting with the manager and causing him to stumble back. It had been a while since Jurou was in a fistfight but he hoped muscle memory would save him once again.

He pulled his fist as far back as he possibly could, winding it up whilst eyeing the fat man’s face, and then SWUNG! – Jurou’s stomach churned! He bent; his fist completely missed its mark as a force surged from his centre and flew out of his mouth decorating the manager’s white shirt in last night’s festivities, turning it into a Jackson Pollock painting.

A moment passed.

“I quit.”

Two security guards tossed a man onto the pavement outside of a skyscraper in the Umeda district. Jurou stood up and dusted himself off, he turned back to the building he had spent the past 5 years slaving away in, contemplating whether or not he should go and request for his personal items to be handed over to him.

Forget it. He thought as he turned around and headed for Ōsaka Station.

The salaryman was dead. Jurou had no use for his belongings.

The door to his modern apartment silently slid open and Jurou entered carrying groceries he acquired from his local convenience store and a six pack of beers in the other hand. He placed the grocery bag on the marble counter of his stylish kitchen and sat on his beige couch placing the six pack on the low black table. 

A few hours later, the sun had set but the city was still alive. Jurou finished off his final can of beer and looked out of his glass door past the balcony and out towards the glittering city. A knock came at the door. When he opened it, he saw a scene he could not have expected.

The lanky figure stood before him once more. 

“You going to let me in?” a voice came from behind the mask.

“I don’t know you!” he responded.

The tall man pushed his way past Jurou and made his way to the sliding door on the other side of the apartment. He opened it and stepped out onto the balcony. Jurou stood in the doorway, his mouth agape. He closed the door and timidly crept closer.