𝐘𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 - 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨!𝐬/𝐨

⊱---𝟐---⊰

Takemichi Hanagaki.

He's not someone noteworthy, in fact he was average in a sense that he was an overworked, passionless convenience store worker who was still looking for something to dedicate his life towards. He would consider his existence to be a rather miserable one-- living alone having some perks, but nevertheless at the end of the day, he was lonely.

No significant other to come home to, no job he could be proud in saying he worked in, and especially no purpose to continue on in life-- not that he was suicidal, in fact he wouldn't say he was in the slightest. He just simply had no goal to pursue like many people his age would have figured out by now.

His lifestyle was a representation of his current life, and to say it was a complete disaster would be an understatement.

Trash littered the floor, forgetting to be picked up or he simply couldn't be bothered to throw it out, dirtied clothes were left unwashed, and used silverware and bowls piled up in the sink. These were all common sights to see within his home no matter the day.

He spent his whole life bowing to others and apologizing for everything he did, never truly standing up for himself like he would in the past. He failed to do anything to change these faults and undesirable circumstances, but at least he wasn't vague enough to disregard the fact that he was rather disappointed in what he had become.

This disappointing lifestyle was the undeniable truth, which hadn't seemed to be changing anytime soon, and it was definitely not something to envy.

Though, this wouldn't be the only disappointing thing in Takemichi's whole life. After all, being pushed onto the tracks of an incoming train and being hit head on had to top them all. The whole moment was like a slow motion action film, as it was all too realistic and it only processed that he was moments away from death when he quite literally saw his life flash before his eyes no matter how unbelievable the situation seemed to him.

Instead of dying like people normally believed would occur after such a collision, he instead found himself twelve years in the past, alive and in great health.

There was no denying the drastic change of appearance, the awful bleached and gelled back hair a terrible reminder of how he presented himself in middle school. Everyone was obsessed with gangs and being some type of delinquent, and he was no exception to this trend.

This undeniable fact that he was somehow teleported to the past only began to register when he found himself standing amongst his old group of friends from middle school on a familiar train— though he thought it was a vivid dream or some type of after-death experience at first. He was dazed and completely confused, his mind a haze as his thoughts ran rapidly since he was certain he had died, and it took him a while to piece together what exactly happened.

Unsurprisingly, reality was quick to hit him after recognizing the pain he felt was all too real— a certain fight that he and his group of friends had engaged in only proving that the blood he shed was genuine.

Perhaps he could have prevented him and his group of friends from getting roughed up if he had said something, (since moments prior to the conflict he recalled it had been a set up), but with some doubt still lingering, the event that would follow would only be concrete proof that he was indeed experiencing his past— not through memories, but in real time.

The end result was that a bunch of upper class men from another school were far physically stronger and were quick to overpower the group that proposed to fight the underclass men of that particular school, which is how they all were left abandoned with tons of injuries all over their bodies.

Takemichi and his friends, Atsushi, Takuya, Kazushi, and Makoto, all sat and reflected over each bruise and cut, knowing it was a reminder of their failure and pathetic bark from how they talked so big but lost so fast. It couldn't be prevented when the middle schoolers spilled some tears with one another even when they tried to hide away that vulnerability, while moments after they then silently pulled each other together to get out of there and head home.

Bruised and battered, all Takemichi could feel was pain spreading all across his body as he walked in hopes of getting to a certain destination at the reminder he had found himself twelve years back into the past.

Twelve. Whole. Years.

Immediately, his thoughts had run to his old girlfriend, Hinata Tachibana, who had died in his future and would surely be alive if this were really the past.

He stumbled through the streets, the only guide to her residence being the street lamps that glowed an eerie color similar to the moon. His bruised fingers pressed against the concrete wall as he stabilized himself, able to feel every ridge and dent the wall had as he used it to guide him along and keep a steady balance.

With exhausted puffs of air falling from his lips, he was determined to keep moving forward until he reached the apartment complex that she lived in, but with the amount of pain he was experiencing, every movement was strained.

Takemichi doesn't know what compelled him to look over at the park on his left, but he felt a mental pull he couldn't resist that urged him to turn that way.

He was overwhelmed with an odd sensation, an eerie feeling of dread that resulted in him completely stopping what he was doing and prop himself up against the wall, no longer moving towards the apartment complex. His stomach twisted creating a nauseating feeling when his eyes landed on something in particular that was quite literally laying still in the park, and it didn't look anything like what he would assume would be in a park.

The lamppost had barely illuminated the area, but it reached far enough for him to see that there was indeed a person laying there and not an oddly shaped park accessory. He could tell they weren't simply stargazing by the way they didn't even look up at the stars, instead they were laid on their side, resting on the cold and uncomfortable ground.

Takemichi's eyes widened to the size of saucer plates and his jaw slacked at the scene in front of him, his previous goal immediately being forgotten as he focused on the current situation. Without hesitation, he stumbled over in the person's direction just to make sure he wasn't seeing things, and his rapid thoughts couldn't help but confirm that it wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him.

'Holy crap! There's someone unconscious there!'