Post by Uesugi Date on Oct 15, 2011 7:12:27 GMT
OOC NOTE: This isn't an open thread. Not that I'm anti-social or anything; it's just that I've got some specific plans for how his origin story goes. Once I finish this, I'm more than happy to work with anyone on pretty much anything. Plus, this will give you guys a good idea of my writing style and tone before you take the plunge, so to speak.
Prologue
"The walk has all been cleared by now
Your voice is all I hear somehow
Calling out winter
Your voice is the splinter inside me while I wait."
- Winter by Joshua Radin
He often woke during the night. It was often something subtle that would shake Uesugi from his slumber. Sometimes, it was the mournful howling of the night wind outside his window. Sometimes, it was the persistent clanging of his creaky radiator. Sometimes, it was the eerie buzzing of the fluorescent light bulb.
Tonight, it was the girl getting out of his bed. He felt her arm slide across his chest, the slight shift in weight on the mattress as she rolled over, the sudden chill that crawled across his skin as the warmth of her body was taken away.
He was sure to open his eyes slowly. Even at nighttime, he had to be careful to allow his vision to adjust. Maybe the sun never set on the British Empire, but when the sun sets on the concrete and steel megalopolis of Tokyo, it was replaced by a billion neon suns, each of them peddling multivariate wares ranging from ginko biloba energy drinks to used schoolgirl panties. All of them were of disparate colors and hues, but they had a tendency to amalgamate into one hellacious glow that really wreaked havoc on your optical nerves.
Eventually, he was able to make out the delicate silhouette of the girl's slender body as she casually dressed herself. She was actually quite beautiful. Her skin was a pristine milky white, her hair an intense black that cascaded elegantly down her right shoulder as she leaned down to slip her stiletto back onto her foot.
She afforded him a final glance before turning to leave. Her eyes were a vibrant brown, as deep as the Nihonkai. They glimmered with an optimism that the burdens of life had yet to steal from her. She tried to elicit a further reaction from him by offering up a coy grin.
He stared back at her blankly.
She turned to leave, her vibrant brown eyes unlocking from his, her brilliant black hair swinging around. And like that, she left his life, just as unceremoniously and innocuously as she had entered it.
What else is new?
Chapter I
"In the light of the sun
Is there anyone?
Oh, it has begun"
- Boston by Augustana
Nails on a chalkboard. Tibetan scream singing. Kim Kardashian gabbing about her cellulite on The Wendy Williams Show.
Uesugi would prefer to hear any of these sounds over the obnoxious din of his alarm clock in the day's early hours. Waking up has always been the bane of his existence.
He ferociously slammed a tightly-balled fist atop the snooze bar, another proud morning ritual. He's amazed that thing can still function after all the abuse. It must be made from the same stuff they use to manufacture the black boxes in airplanes.
He allowed himself a few simple moments to ponder if there were perhaps more constructive ways to expunge his pent-up resentment and frustration. After all, it's not as if he was ever going to teach a lesson to an inanimate object. Punishing a hunk of plastic and wires was never going to get rid of the torment the morning wake-up provided him.
After his initial anger at being so rudely awoken had passed, he was able to focus his attention solely on the monumental hangover racking his skull. His head felt like a family of meerkats had tunneled through it. He squinted as the few rays of sunlight that managed to peek through his blinds still singed his eyeballs; he might as well have been staring directly into a floodlight. The thunderous hubbub of countless honking car horns mercilessly assaulted his ears.
The desire for any kind of relief was enough inspiration for him to haul his body out of bed. Still unable to clear his blurry vision, he had to grope his way to the bathroom. Not that this is a particularly difficult task, seeing as how his apartment is really just a glorified matchbox with a bathroom only a few feet away from his bed.
He opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved a packet of Alka-Seltzer. Filling a cup with tap water, he dropped in the tablets. The fizzing rang in his ears, causing his nervous system to go haywire again. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.
The bubbles crackled and popped in his mouth and sinuses. It felt as if someone had shoved a pack of firecrackers down his gullet.
The medicine kicked in soon enough, though, and provided him just enough relief from his pains. He eventually summoned the strength to walk out onto his balcony.
The chilly morning air filled his nostrils, stinging just slightly. There was a fine mist hanging in the air from last night's torrential downpour. The streets were slick with the residual rainwater. It was still early, so the businesses had yet to shut off their respective neon signs. The reflection of these glowing lights in the puddles appeared warped, all of them melting together into one effulgent slurry.
Below him, commuters were already beginning to file into the sidewalks, all of them jockeying for position, the masses bumping and jostling each other like pachinko balls.
He finished the last of his medicine with a final resolute gulp. Another day beginning in a spectacularly unspectacular fashion.
He turned away only for a little while.
He was laying out a blanket and setting down the picnic basket. It was filled with a variety of goodies his mother had prepared, but he was most looking forward to the tonkatsu. He had already been scolded earlier that day for attempting to steal a few bites.
Mei was never the type to wait. She was in a rush to get to the riverbank as soon as the family huddled into the car that morning. She always played with this set of glass figurines her aunt had custom-made for her. There was a bear, a tiger, a dog and an horse. When the family took these outings to the more rural parts of Japan, Mei enjoyed playing with them in the dense grass and pretending that these creatures were setting out on their own adventure into new, uncharted wilderness.
Mei had complained that her parents were walking too slowly. It was autumn, and they were simply trying to enjoy the sights of the leaves that were changing color. But she had a habit of being rambunctiously insistent, and really, Soichiro was always powerless to the pleadings of his precious daughter. So he allowed his daughter to walk ahead to the river, but only on one condition: Uesugi would have to go along and keep watch over her.
"You're old enough to protect her now," Soichiro said as he tussled his son's unruly black locks.
Uesugi grinned meekly at his father and nodded.
So off the two children went, hand-in-hand. When they reached the river, Mei wasted no time in breaking out her toys. She was already enacting a story which involved her animal friends crash landing in the jungles of the Congo.
He turned away only for a little while. But that was long enough for fate to enforce its cruel will.
When he looked back, he was greeted only by the horrific sight of his sister's head bobbing helplessly out of the water. Her hands flailed wildly as she tried to steer herself to safety. The raging current was quickly ushering her away.
Uesugi dove into the gushing waters. He swam fiercely, clawing his way through the torrent. The water frequently rushed into his nose and mouth, as he barely allowed himself any time to catch his breath.
By the time he managed to catch up to Mei, fatigue was already wracking his body. His muscles ached horribly. He lunged out with one hand and managed to grab hold of her wrist. Instinctively, he reached out with the other and anchored himself to a nearby rock jutting out of the water.
Fueled only by his will to survive, Uesugi dragged himself and his sister atop the rock. He gasped desperately for air, sucking in shallow breaths in between coughs as he hacked up the water that he had swallowed.
But his respite was interrupted when he realized his sister wasn't doing the same thing. She wasn't doing anything. Completely immobile and limp. Completely...lifeless.
Uesugi took her into his arms, and he knew immediately.
"You were wrong, dad," was all he could think, "I couldn't protect her." And he would never get the chance again.
"Hey, moron!"
Uesugi snapped out of his daze. A teenage boy with a purple fauxhawk and a pierced lip glares at him accusingly.
"I said I wanted the number 2!" the boy said, pointing at the menu. He wore a gaudy gold ring fashioned like a skull on his index finger.
That little flashback was certainly never a welcome memory, but it's not as if Uesugi's reality was anything spectacular, either. He spent his evenings getting barked at by customers at his takoyaki stand, All Star World Class Super Fighting Octo.
"What are you, stupid or something?" the boy demanded. "NUM-BER TWO!"
"Forget this," said the boy's accomplice, a pudgy, squat fellow with bleach-blonde hair styled in a pompadour and a tattoo of a sun on the side of his neck. "Let's go to the ramen place. This dude's a crappy cook, anyway."
They both chuckled condescendingly at Uesugi as they walked away. Uesugi responded in kind by grabbing one of his cast iron pans and chucking it at the duo. They barely managed to leap out of the way.
"And he throws like a girl!" exclaimed the fat one. The kid with the fauxhawk cackled triumphantly. The echoes of their laughter rang out as they walked off into the night.
It was only after the initial rage wore off that Uesugi became aware of the searing hot pain running through his hand. He realized that pan he had thrown had been sitting atop the heater and had been ignited to astronomically hot temperatures.
He clenched his hand tightly and heaved a resigned sigh.
All Uesugi wanted to do after an honest day's work of nearly assaulting customers was to watch the Hanshin Tigers game and fall asleep with a bottle of Suntory whiskey in his hand.
One problem: someone else was way ahead of him.
When he got back to his apartment, he found the door already open. He could hear the TV playing in the other room. Surely enough, it was tuned in to the Tigers game, as Uesugi heard the play-by-play commentator announce that infielder Takashi Toritani was stepping up to bat.
Uesugi quietly stepped into his apartment and into the kitchen, hoping to catch a better view of the intruder. Unfortunately, the trespasser was turned away from him. Uesugi could see that he had neatly trimmed short brown hair and an imposing muscular build. His black leather jacket was hung on the back of the folding chair on which he was seated. He wore a red T-shirt with blue jeans. He held in his hand a glass of Suntory whiskey. Uesugi's Suntory whiskey.
"Son of a..." grumbled Uesugi.
"Oh, come on, you can't swing at that one!" exclaimed the intruder. His voice was full and deep, imbued with a powerful masculine appeal.
Uesugi has seen enough. Breaking and entering, perhaps that can be justified, but drinking another man's prized liquor? That, my friend, is grounds for execution.
Uesugi swiftly charged forth and swung a powerful roundhouse kick aimed right for the man's head.
Much to Uesugi's surprise, the man quickly ducked underneath. When Uesugi regained his footing, he tried for a left hook, then a right uppercut, both of which the intruder effortlessly dodged with nimble head movement. Uesugi then threw a spinning backfist, only to find his arm ensnared in the powerful hands of his opponent. The man quickly swept Uesugi's feet out from under him and jerked him to the side, flinging him to the ground. Uesugi landed with a resounding thud.
As Uesugi writhed around in pain, the man casually picked up his glass of whiskey and took a sip.
"Pretty good," said the man, "Master Speakman taught you well."
Now that was a name Uesugi had not heard in a while.
"You're telegraphing your uppercut, though," the man added casually as he offers his hand to help Uesugi up. "Try not to twist your hips so much."
Uesugi finally got a look at the man's face. He had strong, bold features with piercing brown eyes and a stout chin. Uesugi irately rose to his feet on his own power. "What do you know about Speakman?" Uesugi inquired suspiciously.
"You kidding me? That man's a legend. One of the most respected American Kenpo practitioners in the world. And I know you were fortunate enough to train under him from a very early age. Black belt by the time you were 15, right?"
"14." Uesugi corrected.
"And I see you still know your way around a fight."
Uesugi continued to practice even after leaving home, mostly as a physical means of release for his psychological troubles.
"So," Uesugi said as he plopped his aching body down on a nearby couch, "What is it exactly that you want? Let me guess. You wanted to watch the game, but all the nearby bars were full up. So you thought maybe you'd invite yourself in and test my hospitality."
The man chuckled. "You think I'd go to all this trouble to drink your stale whiskey?"
Uesugi glared at him.
"But cutting right to the chase," the man sat back down on the folding chair, "I'm here because I need your help."
"You know, typically there's this whole procedure people go through which involves asking nicely and waiting for a response. Breaking and entering doesn't usually fall into that protocol."
"Well, I know you're not the type who's easily swayed."
"Then you should already know my answer. Now get the hell out."
"Uesugi," The man sets down his glass and stares intently at him, "This isn't the life you were meant for."
"Who are you to say that?"
"I've read up on your credentials. You were top of your class through high school. You speak four languages. You play piano and violin. And you were being groomed to be the successor to Date Corp., one of this country's most powerful companies. And yet you spend your days peddling octopus dumplings?"
"I don't see how that affects you."
"You ever hear of the Power Rangers?"
"Yeah, in the news sometimes."
"Well, quite frankly, we could use someone like you."
"'We' huh? I should've known. You exude the kind of smug righteousness that just screams 'do-gooder.'"
"Hey, we're mortal like anybody else. We have our own expiration dates on how long we can keep this up."
"And you think I wanna join that spandex circus?" Uesugi laughed indignantly. "You know, for being the savior of our world, you're not really too perceptive. I'm not interested."
"Look, I know you left your past life because of certain--"
"Don't go there!" barked Uesugi as he shot up from his seat. He stood infuriated in front of the man.
The man just stoically stared back at Uesugi. The man wasn't intimidated, but he realized that there's not much to be gained by prodding at this point. He calmly rose to his feet and stood in front of a bristling Uesugi.
"Tell you what," the man said as he retrieved his jacket. He fished around in the pocket for a while before retrieving a metallic device with a gold coin in the middle. "Take this for a little while. Give it a try. It may come in handy."
He tried to hand it to Uesugi, who simply responded by continuing to eye him down. The man shrugged and set the device down on the chair. Without another word from either of them, the man gave Uesugi a curt nod goodbye and coolly left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Uesugi took a deep breath to calm himself. As the adrenaline coursed out of his system, all he could do was stare at the mysterious device left on the seat.
EDIT: Oh, yeah, to be continued, for sure
.
Prologue
"The walk has all been cleared by now
Your voice is all I hear somehow
Calling out winter
Your voice is the splinter inside me while I wait."
- Winter by Joshua Radin
He often woke during the night. It was often something subtle that would shake Uesugi from his slumber. Sometimes, it was the mournful howling of the night wind outside his window. Sometimes, it was the persistent clanging of his creaky radiator. Sometimes, it was the eerie buzzing of the fluorescent light bulb.
Tonight, it was the girl getting out of his bed. He felt her arm slide across his chest, the slight shift in weight on the mattress as she rolled over, the sudden chill that crawled across his skin as the warmth of her body was taken away.
He was sure to open his eyes slowly. Even at nighttime, he had to be careful to allow his vision to adjust. Maybe the sun never set on the British Empire, but when the sun sets on the concrete and steel megalopolis of Tokyo, it was replaced by a billion neon suns, each of them peddling multivariate wares ranging from ginko biloba energy drinks to used schoolgirl panties. All of them were of disparate colors and hues, but they had a tendency to amalgamate into one hellacious glow that really wreaked havoc on your optical nerves.
Eventually, he was able to make out the delicate silhouette of the girl's slender body as she casually dressed herself. She was actually quite beautiful. Her skin was a pristine milky white, her hair an intense black that cascaded elegantly down her right shoulder as she leaned down to slip her stiletto back onto her foot.
She afforded him a final glance before turning to leave. Her eyes were a vibrant brown, as deep as the Nihonkai. They glimmered with an optimism that the burdens of life had yet to steal from her. She tried to elicit a further reaction from him by offering up a coy grin.
He stared back at her blankly.
She turned to leave, her vibrant brown eyes unlocking from his, her brilliant black hair swinging around. And like that, she left his life, just as unceremoniously and innocuously as she had entered it.
What else is new?
Chapter I
"In the light of the sun
Is there anyone?
Oh, it has begun"
- Boston by Augustana
Nails on a chalkboard. Tibetan scream singing. Kim Kardashian gabbing about her cellulite on The Wendy Williams Show.
Uesugi would prefer to hear any of these sounds over the obnoxious din of his alarm clock in the day's early hours. Waking up has always been the bane of his existence.
He ferociously slammed a tightly-balled fist atop the snooze bar, another proud morning ritual. He's amazed that thing can still function after all the abuse. It must be made from the same stuff they use to manufacture the black boxes in airplanes.
He allowed himself a few simple moments to ponder if there were perhaps more constructive ways to expunge his pent-up resentment and frustration. After all, it's not as if he was ever going to teach a lesson to an inanimate object. Punishing a hunk of plastic and wires was never going to get rid of the torment the morning wake-up provided him.
After his initial anger at being so rudely awoken had passed, he was able to focus his attention solely on the monumental hangover racking his skull. His head felt like a family of meerkats had tunneled through it. He squinted as the few rays of sunlight that managed to peek through his blinds still singed his eyeballs; he might as well have been staring directly into a floodlight. The thunderous hubbub of countless honking car horns mercilessly assaulted his ears.
The desire for any kind of relief was enough inspiration for him to haul his body out of bed. Still unable to clear his blurry vision, he had to grope his way to the bathroom. Not that this is a particularly difficult task, seeing as how his apartment is really just a glorified matchbox with a bathroom only a few feet away from his bed.
He opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved a packet of Alka-Seltzer. Filling a cup with tap water, he dropped in the tablets. The fizzing rang in his ears, causing his nervous system to go haywire again. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.
The bubbles crackled and popped in his mouth and sinuses. It felt as if someone had shoved a pack of firecrackers down his gullet.
The medicine kicked in soon enough, though, and provided him just enough relief from his pains. He eventually summoned the strength to walk out onto his balcony.
The chilly morning air filled his nostrils, stinging just slightly. There was a fine mist hanging in the air from last night's torrential downpour. The streets were slick with the residual rainwater. It was still early, so the businesses had yet to shut off their respective neon signs. The reflection of these glowing lights in the puddles appeared warped, all of them melting together into one effulgent slurry.
Below him, commuters were already beginning to file into the sidewalks, all of them jockeying for position, the masses bumping and jostling each other like pachinko balls.
He finished the last of his medicine with a final resolute gulp. Another day beginning in a spectacularly unspectacular fashion.
He turned away only for a little while.
He was laying out a blanket and setting down the picnic basket. It was filled with a variety of goodies his mother had prepared, but he was most looking forward to the tonkatsu. He had already been scolded earlier that day for attempting to steal a few bites.
Mei was never the type to wait. She was in a rush to get to the riverbank as soon as the family huddled into the car that morning. She always played with this set of glass figurines her aunt had custom-made for her. There was a bear, a tiger, a dog and an horse. When the family took these outings to the more rural parts of Japan, Mei enjoyed playing with them in the dense grass and pretending that these creatures were setting out on their own adventure into new, uncharted wilderness.
Mei had complained that her parents were walking too slowly. It was autumn, and they were simply trying to enjoy the sights of the leaves that were changing color. But she had a habit of being rambunctiously insistent, and really, Soichiro was always powerless to the pleadings of his precious daughter. So he allowed his daughter to walk ahead to the river, but only on one condition: Uesugi would have to go along and keep watch over her.
"You're old enough to protect her now," Soichiro said as he tussled his son's unruly black locks.
Uesugi grinned meekly at his father and nodded.
So off the two children went, hand-in-hand. When they reached the river, Mei wasted no time in breaking out her toys. She was already enacting a story which involved her animal friends crash landing in the jungles of the Congo.
He turned away only for a little while. But that was long enough for fate to enforce its cruel will.
When he looked back, he was greeted only by the horrific sight of his sister's head bobbing helplessly out of the water. Her hands flailed wildly as she tried to steer herself to safety. The raging current was quickly ushering her away.
Uesugi dove into the gushing waters. He swam fiercely, clawing his way through the torrent. The water frequently rushed into his nose and mouth, as he barely allowed himself any time to catch his breath.
By the time he managed to catch up to Mei, fatigue was already wracking his body. His muscles ached horribly. He lunged out with one hand and managed to grab hold of her wrist. Instinctively, he reached out with the other and anchored himself to a nearby rock jutting out of the water.
Fueled only by his will to survive, Uesugi dragged himself and his sister atop the rock. He gasped desperately for air, sucking in shallow breaths in between coughs as he hacked up the water that he had swallowed.
But his respite was interrupted when he realized his sister wasn't doing the same thing. She wasn't doing anything. Completely immobile and limp. Completely...lifeless.
Uesugi took her into his arms, and he knew immediately.
"You were wrong, dad," was all he could think, "I couldn't protect her." And he would never get the chance again.
"Hey, moron!"
Uesugi snapped out of his daze. A teenage boy with a purple fauxhawk and a pierced lip glares at him accusingly.
"I said I wanted the number 2!" the boy said, pointing at the menu. He wore a gaudy gold ring fashioned like a skull on his index finger.
That little flashback was certainly never a welcome memory, but it's not as if Uesugi's reality was anything spectacular, either. He spent his evenings getting barked at by customers at his takoyaki stand, All Star World Class Super Fighting Octo.
"What are you, stupid or something?" the boy demanded. "NUM-BER TWO!"
"Forget this," said the boy's accomplice, a pudgy, squat fellow with bleach-blonde hair styled in a pompadour and a tattoo of a sun on the side of his neck. "Let's go to the ramen place. This dude's a crappy cook, anyway."
They both chuckled condescendingly at Uesugi as they walked away. Uesugi responded in kind by grabbing one of his cast iron pans and chucking it at the duo. They barely managed to leap out of the way.
"And he throws like a girl!" exclaimed the fat one. The kid with the fauxhawk cackled triumphantly. The echoes of their laughter rang out as they walked off into the night.
It was only after the initial rage wore off that Uesugi became aware of the searing hot pain running through his hand. He realized that pan he had thrown had been sitting atop the heater and had been ignited to astronomically hot temperatures.
He clenched his hand tightly and heaved a resigned sigh.
All Uesugi wanted to do after an honest day's work of nearly assaulting customers was to watch the Hanshin Tigers game and fall asleep with a bottle of Suntory whiskey in his hand.
One problem: someone else was way ahead of him.
When he got back to his apartment, he found the door already open. He could hear the TV playing in the other room. Surely enough, it was tuned in to the Tigers game, as Uesugi heard the play-by-play commentator announce that infielder Takashi Toritani was stepping up to bat.
Uesugi quietly stepped into his apartment and into the kitchen, hoping to catch a better view of the intruder. Unfortunately, the trespasser was turned away from him. Uesugi could see that he had neatly trimmed short brown hair and an imposing muscular build. His black leather jacket was hung on the back of the folding chair on which he was seated. He wore a red T-shirt with blue jeans. He held in his hand a glass of Suntory whiskey. Uesugi's Suntory whiskey.
"Son of a..." grumbled Uesugi.
"Oh, come on, you can't swing at that one!" exclaimed the intruder. His voice was full and deep, imbued with a powerful masculine appeal.
Uesugi has seen enough. Breaking and entering, perhaps that can be justified, but drinking another man's prized liquor? That, my friend, is grounds for execution.
Uesugi swiftly charged forth and swung a powerful roundhouse kick aimed right for the man's head.
Much to Uesugi's surprise, the man quickly ducked underneath. When Uesugi regained his footing, he tried for a left hook, then a right uppercut, both of which the intruder effortlessly dodged with nimble head movement. Uesugi then threw a spinning backfist, only to find his arm ensnared in the powerful hands of his opponent. The man quickly swept Uesugi's feet out from under him and jerked him to the side, flinging him to the ground. Uesugi landed with a resounding thud.
As Uesugi writhed around in pain, the man casually picked up his glass of whiskey and took a sip.
"Pretty good," said the man, "Master Speakman taught you well."
Now that was a name Uesugi had not heard in a while.
"You're telegraphing your uppercut, though," the man added casually as he offers his hand to help Uesugi up. "Try not to twist your hips so much."
Uesugi finally got a look at the man's face. He had strong, bold features with piercing brown eyes and a stout chin. Uesugi irately rose to his feet on his own power. "What do you know about Speakman?" Uesugi inquired suspiciously.
"You kidding me? That man's a legend. One of the most respected American Kenpo practitioners in the world. And I know you were fortunate enough to train under him from a very early age. Black belt by the time you were 15, right?"
"14." Uesugi corrected.
"And I see you still know your way around a fight."
Uesugi continued to practice even after leaving home, mostly as a physical means of release for his psychological troubles.
"So," Uesugi said as he plopped his aching body down on a nearby couch, "What is it exactly that you want? Let me guess. You wanted to watch the game, but all the nearby bars were full up. So you thought maybe you'd invite yourself in and test my hospitality."
The man chuckled. "You think I'd go to all this trouble to drink your stale whiskey?"
Uesugi glared at him.
"But cutting right to the chase," the man sat back down on the folding chair, "I'm here because I need your help."
"You know, typically there's this whole procedure people go through which involves asking nicely and waiting for a response. Breaking and entering doesn't usually fall into that protocol."
"Well, I know you're not the type who's easily swayed."
"Then you should already know my answer. Now get the hell out."
"Uesugi," The man sets down his glass and stares intently at him, "This isn't the life you were meant for."
"Who are you to say that?"
"I've read up on your credentials. You were top of your class through high school. You speak four languages. You play piano and violin. And you were being groomed to be the successor to Date Corp., one of this country's most powerful companies. And yet you spend your days peddling octopus dumplings?"
"I don't see how that affects you."
"You ever hear of the Power Rangers?"
"Yeah, in the news sometimes."
"Well, quite frankly, we could use someone like you."
"'We' huh? I should've known. You exude the kind of smug righteousness that just screams 'do-gooder.'"
"Hey, we're mortal like anybody else. We have our own expiration dates on how long we can keep this up."
"And you think I wanna join that spandex circus?" Uesugi laughed indignantly. "You know, for being the savior of our world, you're not really too perceptive. I'm not interested."
"Look, I know you left your past life because of certain--"
"Don't go there!" barked Uesugi as he shot up from his seat. He stood infuriated in front of the man.
The man just stoically stared back at Uesugi. The man wasn't intimidated, but he realized that there's not much to be gained by prodding at this point. He calmly rose to his feet and stood in front of a bristling Uesugi.
"Tell you what," the man said as he retrieved his jacket. He fished around in the pocket for a while before retrieving a metallic device with a gold coin in the middle. "Take this for a little while. Give it a try. It may come in handy."
He tried to hand it to Uesugi, who simply responded by continuing to eye him down. The man shrugged and set the device down on the chair. Without another word from either of them, the man gave Uesugi a curt nod goodbye and coolly left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Uesugi took a deep breath to calm himself. As the adrenaline coursed out of his system, all he could do was stare at the mysterious device left on the seat.
EDIT: Oh, yeah, to be continued, for sure
.