Jiro was only in high school at the time, perhaps a bit foolish and even naïve. But he was a fighter, always would be. He had problems at home, that was true enough. But on top of that he exacted his anger with a bunch of teenagers that had no right acting like they did. Rebels, gang-like, chaotic—a drunken father, a mother that left when he was fourteen, as if that wasn’t bad enough. His father didn’t care what he did with his time because he was always passed out on the couch with half of his beer belly hanging out.
Yet somehow Jiro always came home late at night and helped him stumble into his bedroom, turned on his TV, and made way to his own room. It was a miracle that he didn’t hate his father, even on nights when he was a little too drunk to realize that hitting his son was not the answer. Even when his father blamed him for his mother’s disappearance. Jiro had something else to occupy his mind—his boys. They never left his side, and they always took equal blame when they did stumble into legal trouble. But that was just life for them. They had each other; they didn’t need approval from anyone else. Some others challenged them for territory rights, for pride, but these were fighters. Good ones too. And it was Jiro who loved taking part in fights similar to street fighting, code named ‘V.O.T.E’. The rules were simple-1) Nothing is illegal. 2) The opponent on their back for five seconds is declared the loser… Hell, Jiro even earned the title “Abyss” for his empty eyes as he stared down at his defeated opponent.
A year later, it was on the night of one victory that Jiro met him. Jiro was stumbling home after a celebration with his boys. But after winning so many fights, it was becoming dull. He was on a winning streak of seven, breaking the last streak of five. It was almost midnight and he was on his way home. He was a few blocks from an old train station, which he thought little of. Jiro didn’t see him at first, but as soon as he stepped under the lamppost, the shining silver on his uniform caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks. Military men weren’t common sights around the town. It was so run down and dirty that such proud men dared not walk the streets, in addition to the fact that the world was heavy with war. It was not easy for these men to catch a break from front lines but it was clear that this man had his excuse. A bandage lined the side of his jaw, and his arm in a bandaged sling. There was, perhaps, more unseen injury elsewhere.
If one was to wander upon the infirmary, the sights would be much worse. Their enemy was a strong sort, and at some points, it almost seemed like the countries loss was inevitable. Still, the proud men and woman fought valiantly. Jiro had stopped in his tracks because of this. Men like him deserved respect for putting their lives on the line. However, when the cold, glaring eyes of the man fell upon him, Jiro couldn’t help but turn away from him an continue on home. His eyes seemed full of distaste and sorrow towards the world and Jiro couldn’t bare them as they traveled to his.
A week later he was only a bit surprised to find that man at one of his fights, though since it was nighttime, he couldn’t be sure. The fact that men like him did not visit his town was proof enough to him though.
But it was this man that changed Jiro’s life forever in only a month. This man occupied a new spot in his mind. One that did not include fighting, didn’t include his drunken father, it was love and care. This man, the very man that looked upon the world as nothing but shit, showed Jiro that just because his father was mistreating him, he didn’t need to gamble with the law. And by the time Jiro graduated high school, he was changed. Before this man, Jiro had potentially no chance at graduating high school. He would do nothing with his life but fight in the streets and hope that the money was enough to pay the bills his father couldn’t. And it was Jiro that would keep this man alive during the war, for which he’d been called back to the front lines a week after healing fully to fight in.
Not to say that Jiro doesn't fight anymore.....Old habits die hard.
Yet somehow Jiro always came home late at night and helped him stumble into his bedroom, turned on his TV, and made way to his own room. It was a miracle that he didn’t hate his father, even on nights when he was a little too drunk to realize that hitting his son was not the answer. Even when his father blamed him for his mother’s disappearance. Jiro had something else to occupy his mind—his boys. They never left his side, and they always took equal blame when they did stumble into legal trouble. But that was just life for them. They had each other; they didn’t need approval from anyone else. Some others challenged them for territory rights, for pride, but these were fighters. Good ones too. And it was Jiro who loved taking part in fights similar to street fighting, code named ‘V.O.T.E’. The rules were simple-1) Nothing is illegal. 2) The opponent on their back for five seconds is declared the loser… Hell, Jiro even earned the title “Abyss” for his empty eyes as he stared down at his defeated opponent.
A year later, it was on the night of one victory that Jiro met him. Jiro was stumbling home after a celebration with his boys. But after winning so many fights, it was becoming dull. He was on a winning streak of seven, breaking the last streak of five. It was almost midnight and he was on his way home. He was a few blocks from an old train station, which he thought little of. Jiro didn’t see him at first, but as soon as he stepped under the lamppost, the shining silver on his uniform caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks. Military men weren’t common sights around the town. It was so run down and dirty that such proud men dared not walk the streets, in addition to the fact that the world was heavy with war. It was not easy for these men to catch a break from front lines but it was clear that this man had his excuse. A bandage lined the side of his jaw, and his arm in a bandaged sling. There was, perhaps, more unseen injury elsewhere.
If one was to wander upon the infirmary, the sights would be much worse. Their enemy was a strong sort, and at some points, it almost seemed like the countries loss was inevitable. Still, the proud men and woman fought valiantly. Jiro had stopped in his tracks because of this. Men like him deserved respect for putting their lives on the line. However, when the cold, glaring eyes of the man fell upon him, Jiro couldn’t help but turn away from him an continue on home. His eyes seemed full of distaste and sorrow towards the world and Jiro couldn’t bare them as they traveled to his.
A week later he was only a bit surprised to find that man at one of his fights, though since it was nighttime, he couldn’t be sure. The fact that men like him did not visit his town was proof enough to him though.
But it was this man that changed Jiro’s life forever in only a month. This man occupied a new spot in his mind. One that did not include fighting, didn’t include his drunken father, it was love and care. This man, the very man that looked upon the world as nothing but shit, showed Jiro that just because his father was mistreating him, he didn’t need to gamble with the law. And by the time Jiro graduated high school, he was changed. Before this man, Jiro had potentially no chance at graduating high school. He would do nothing with his life but fight in the streets and hope that the money was enough to pay the bills his father couldn’t. And it was Jiro that would keep this man alive during the war, for which he’d been called back to the front lines a week after healing fully to fight in.
Not to say that Jiro doesn't fight anymore.....Old habits die hard.