With a sigh and slight shake of his head, the older man stepped forward, giving his friend a gentle tap on the shoulder.
“We’re Lighters, with the Strays,” he told them, matter-of-factly, “We’re looking for a rogue that came this way. Is it possible you’ve seen anyone pass through here?”
The two boys exchanged looks.
Rogue, a term used to refer to the countless criminals that had overrun their society ever since people started manifesting talents eighty years ago.
Lighters came later, fifteen years after the Rogues. The heroes who fought and suppressed the villains. But their arrival was too late. The Rogues had all but taken over, and the Lighters had their work cut out for them restoring law and order to the world.
Finally, after ten years, they were able to return to some level of normality. But the Rogues were still plentiful and, while the strong were able to fend for themselves, the weak lived in fear.
The ‘Strays’ were the newest and smallest group of Lighters, but they were quickly making a name for themselves. Some even comparing them to the top guild, ‘Guillotine’.
Though, I suppose, that still remains to be seen.
‘So they’re with Strays, huh?’ Kubo shook his head, “No, I’m afraid not,”
The older man cocked an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Anything will do?”
He was Turret Moore, aged 27. His official profession was that of a barista. His talent: Turret. Nickname: Watchtower.
“Yep, certain,”
The younger one frowned. Rhyse Charles, 21. He was a courier. Talent: Vitrify. Nickname: Penniless Prince.
“Well, can’t be helped, I guess. We’ll just have to keep looking,” Turret sighed, shrugging exaggeratedly, “Nice snowglobe, by the way, where’d you get it?”
“Huh? Snowglobe?” Rhyse’s eyes scanned the area until he found it.
“What? This old thing?” Kubo lifted it up, “I don’t even remember,”
Turret smiled, “Well, take care,” he told them, throwing a wave over his shoulder.
“Hmm, and get home soon; it’s dangerous out here,” Rhyse waved, and followed after him.
The two friends were silent for a moment, then Kubo sighed.
“Well, that happened,” Rein chuckled.
Kubo nodded, “Yep, let’s go,”
“So, what are you going to do about that guy?” Rein gestured to the snowglobe.
“I’m keeping him,”
“Oh, like a pet?”
Kubo scoffed, “Maybe,”
And the two went home, forgetting all about their encounter with two of the world’s fastest-growing Lighter guild’s members.
You should remember them; we’ll meet them again after all. But don’t worry, they aren’t very important.
Oh, and I almost forgot, you’re probably wondering who I am. Well, that’s a story for another time.
As for this one…
Ah! There goes Narumi. I told you we’d get back to him.
“I’m home!” he called, quietly shutting the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes as he walked and dropped his bag to the floor. Making his way to the kitchen where he could smell dinner was being prepared, if not ready.
The door slammed open just as he reached it, and a low voice spoke.
“Narumi,” he flinched, “You’re late. You were supposed to watch the kids for me,”
This was Aori Takahara, Narumi’s older sister, aged 25. She was a daycare supervisor. Talent: Ignite. Her nickname was Rory.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” he shrugged dismissively, then furrowed his brows, taking in her elaborate hairstyle and elegantly decorated dress, “But… where are you going dressed up like that?”
“Not that it’s any of your business!” she snapped at him, stepping aside to let him in, “Tsumiko, come here! Narumi’s back!”
“Yay, Narumi’s back!” a young voice called as her round, cherubic face appeared. Also elaborately dressed with a hairstyle that looked prettier than it was comfortable and a dress she usually wouldn’t want to be seen dead in, “I don’t CARE!”
She stamped her foot at her sister, who pressed her lips but didn’t respond.
Tsumiko Takahara. She was 15 years old in her third year of Hyera middle school. She was a senior member of her school’s journalism club. Her Talent: Burn. Nickname: Mikae. She was Narumi’s younger sister.
Narumi looked between the two girls, both emblazoned with the Takahara family’s symbol. A golden flame brooch embedded with a customised jewel.
An amber for Tsumiko and a ruby for Aori. Narumi had one too, but he didn’t care for it. It had been years since he’d worn it.
“Aww, come on, Tsumiko,” he smiled, patting her head gently and trying not to mess up the nearly aligned pearls in her hair, “I know you love hanging with your big bro,”
“Hah! As if!” she scoffed, but didn’t bother moving his hand.
Narumi chuckled, “We can gossip about Aori,”
Tsumiko melted instantly, giggling, “Fine,”
“I’m still here, you know?” Aori huffed, “Dinner’s on the table; eat it while it’s still hot,”
And she left without another word. Despite there being four sets of plates set out on the table, Narumi and Tsumiko were the only ones who sat down for dinner that night.
He ate his food silently and listened to his sister rant about her day. Mostly gossiping about Aori.
“So, Aori got engaged, huh?” he said, eventually.
“Yeah, but I don’t know his name yet,” she answered around mouthfuls of food, “She’s just got him saved as ‘MINE’ in her phone,”
“Interesting,” Narumi scoffed, though he found it more annoying than anything. Aori getting engaged meant she intended to leave. He was going to lose someone else. ‘Again,’
“I’ll say… she even got all dressed up and that,” she went on, oblivious to his thoughts.
“So, what do you want to do after we eat?” he asked, swiftly changing the topic, “We can play games or whatever,”
“What games? We’ll watch movies until we fall asleep,”
“Wow, that’s it! Boring much?”
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“Tsk, quiet!” she snapped, and he laughed, feeling more light-hearted again.
“Sure, whatever you say,”
Narumi woke up the next day, as he did every morning, to the sound of the front door slamming shut. That was his younger brother Shiro leaving for school.
Rolling his eyes at the boy’s daily habit, Narumi grabbed onto the windowsill beside his bed and pulled himself up to hang his head out and called to him.
The boy stopped in his tracks and looked up. Much like Aori, Shiro had inherited their father’s deep red hair, which he’d dyed black except for the ends for whatever reason, and kept long in a half-up, half-down style. A stark contrast to his brother’s spiky white hair and black eyes.
A slice of dry toast hung from his lips, and he stared up through bright red eyes, another of his father’s traits that he shared with both his sisters.
“Aori left some money on the counter for you,” Narumi shouted at him, “Take it before she screams at me again for not telling you, as if I haven’t been doing that for the past three weeks,”
Poor Narumi, always getting ignored.
Shiro listened this time, though; he disappeared into the house and stormed back out, the door slamming behind him. Again.
“Shiro–” Narumi started, but Shiro cut him off, throwing his hand up to reveal a wad of cash. As well as a symbol Narumi didn’t think he deserved.
Nor do I.
Narumi fell back into his bed and left him to go about his day. He would meet up with his friends at a convenience store three blocks away and buy honey buns for breakfast before grabbing onto the first bus they saw and hitching a ride to Dongwan High, where they were attending their second year of high school.
Shiro Takahara, 17 years old. Talent: Combust
Kaiden Maersk, aged 17. Talent: Crystalline.
Isidore Carter, 17. Talent: Corrode.
All three were key members of their school’s MMA Club, and aspiring Lighters.
These three would be responsible for the events that make up the rest of the story, so pay attention when they appear.
Having been rudely awoken two hours earlier than he needed to be, Narumi stretched in his bed and jumped up to start his day.
Rein was waiting at the studio by the time he’d arrived with Kubo. He’d already showered and changed from the outfit he’d worn that day into the clothes he’d set aside for their performance.
A black leather jacket with chains that hung off the shoulders, over a white T-shirt and dark jeans.
The dark brown curls he usually kept tied back in a neat ponytail were left to hang loose. Brushing his shoulders and accentuating the brightness of his golden eyes, which stood out against his honey skin tone.
“Something you need to tell us, Rein?” Kubo asked, eyeing the braided rope collar he wore around his neck.
Kubo went for a more sophisticated look. His usually wild bronze hair was tied up into a tight bun with one side left to hang loose over his right eye. His other eye, a ghostly white, clashed with his chestnut face, naturally adorned by two vertically aligned beauty marks just above his left cheekbone.
He wore a dark grey denim waistcoat and black jeans, with silver chains around his neck and wrist.
Narumi looked himself over in the mirror once more before joining his friends on their way out.
He wore a black leather jacket with buckles on it and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and black ripped jeans. He had a black bandana tied on his head and wore a spiked choker with a matching wristband.
I must admit, when it came to style, Afterlife knew what they were doing. Or not, depending on how you looked at it.
Blue-Rise Bridge was crowded with people when they arrived. Because, unlike most bridges, Blue-Rise was the commercial centre of the Unified Isles. With many little stalls and kiosks dotted along the way. It was the crossing point between Zhuan and Kazshka, a place free from the restrictions of both. Anyone could set up a portable booth for the day without need of a license and make it home with a fortune.
But exactly what makes it the most appealing place within the Union is also what makes it the most dangerous. Still, that didn’t deter anyone from making the most of its busy hours, and AfterLife was no exception.
Narumi smiled. More people meant more chances of them getting noticed. Rein had picked the perfect location once again.
“Good, seems like everyone made it,” Kubo grinned, watching as the rest of the team set up their mics and equipment.
Rein nodded, “Yeah, looks that way,”
The band played their song, and I must say, they played beautifully. Well, as beautifully as a rock band can play.
Nothing against the genre; it’s just not my thing. Though I must commend the vocals.
Narumi and Kubo especially.
And the lyrics too. Oh, the chills.
[Rumi): When everything’s lost, and we’ve reached the end,
I’ll hope to meet you again.
(Kubo): When we’re pressed for time, and we’ve crossed the line.
(Rein): When we’ve lost our minds, and we’re out of light.
(Rumi): Will you hold my hand, stand by my side,
In the afterlife?
The crowd applauded loudly. One particular red-haired onlooker watched on, teary-eyed.
“Whoa,” he mumbled, still entranced by the performance he’d just witnessed, “They’re amazing,”
See, I told you we’d meet them again.
Rhyse watched the crowd disperse around him. Some dropping coins or bits of change into a basket, others offering words of support and encouragement as they passed by.
“Ah! I should probably give them something…,” he looked through his wallet, and his head dropped along with his heart, “Oh! Uuh…”
“Broke again, I see,” a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
He turned just in time to see Turret drop a handful of twenty-carat bills into the basket.
“Whoa!” Sei exclaimed.
His fluffy sand-coloured hair was all pushed over to the right side and clipped in place. His right orange eye and left moss green one sparkled as he stared at the pile of money they’d just received.
“Heh, thanks, dude,”
“Sure,” Turret shrugged, “You deserve it,”
They really did.
His cocoa eyes ran over the rest of the band, and he froze for a moment, nudging Rhyse with his elbow.
“Hey, recognise them?”
Rhyse did. His jaw dropped instantly.
