"So much for surviving no matter what." I choke out, struggling to hold my body up. The downpour that followed me out of the alleyway faded as quickly as I stepped.
"Who knew adrenaline makes people delusional as well." The lights of a nearby store catch my eye. 'I can understand it, but those characters,' I bring my stumbling self closer to the store. 'They look like Japanese.'
"Hey! Out of the way!" I turn quickly, narrowly avoiding a pair of teenagers running past me.
"Sorry about that." I mumble though I doubt they could hear me. 'I've got to stay focused. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time.' I raise the metallic arm, looking at it intensely. 'And I need to figure out what this thing is.'
I continue my walk to nowhere in particular, hoping to find a safe place to rest. 'Why is this even happening to me. I'm just your average 14-year-old preparing for high school.' My breathing becomes uneven as my stamina continues to drop with each new step I take. 'What if this isn't a dream.' My vision blurs, my thoughts become muddled and the light that is my hope dims slightly. 'What if I'm stuck here foreve-'
I'm knocked out of my thoughts as I bump shoulders with a passerby. They turn to complain but I'm too tired to even hear what they're saying. I turn away, trying to steady myself, only to be greeted by a bright, almost blinding light. 'Recycle shop...hoppers?' I lose control of my body, falling as my eyes slowly close and my consciousness fades to darkness.
Just as quickly as the darkness appears, it vanishes, replacing itself with a sort of light that is as dark as the darkness itself. My body remains stagnant, stiff, as if stuck in a viscous liquid. I try to turn my head but I'm unable to. I try to move my hands, but I cannot. I don't feel my heartbeat; I don't feel heat or coldness. I do, however, feel fear.
'Kill.' A voice awakens, reverberating across the endless landscape that is the void I currently rest within. The power carried by the voice cause a shift in the flatness of the landscape, it causes a change in the viscosity of the liquid, it causes a wave. I can move, I can stand, but I can't get away, and i can't speak either.
'Kill.' The voice comes again, this time pleasant, soothing. It carries an alluring fragrance that pulls me into it. Even without a sense of direction, I can tell where this voice originates from and, in my absent-minded state, i begin a slow trek towards it.
'Kill.' It sounds out once again. This time louder, more impactful, more-
*Clink*
A sharp breath erupts from my throat; my eyes open abruptly, and I instinctively pull my metallic hand towards me.
"Hey, you alright?" A voice pulls my attention. I turn my head only to be greeted by a man with dark hair, sharp eyes with small pupils, a goatee, and a small bump in the middle of his forehead with what looks to be a hammer in his hand. "You're sweating bullets." The man sat up, quickly holding the hammer behind his back before turning his head and calling out, "Ichiro! He's awake!"
A voice sounds back, "Alright Jiro, I'll be there in a minute." I try to sit up but the fatigue in my muscles makes that impossible. The sharp-eyed man, with his hand still behind his back, turns back to me but I cut him off before he could say another word. "I know you have a hammer behind you." I raise my metallic arm. "Did you...hit this with it?"
"U-uh," The man places the hammer on the nearby counter. "I-is that your quirk?" He spits out, trying to change to the topic to dodge my question.
"Quirk?" His gamble works as this new term piques my curiosity a bit more than what he could've done with that hammer.
"Yeah, your quirk." He points to the metallic arm. "I've never seen a prosthetic with that quality or design so it must be your quirk." His eyes, clearly glazed with curiosity, glosses over my arm again.
Before I could ask any more questions, a bald-headed man, who looks very similar to Jiro with sharp eyes with small pupils, a goatee, and a small bump in the middle of his forehead. "So, the sleeping beauty is awake." He jokes, chuckling at his own joke alongside Jiro.
"My name is Ichiro Hotta," He introduced himself, pausing before pointing at his brother who follows up. "And I'm Jiro Hotta." Ichiro takes a step towards me, "What's your name kid?"
I take moment to sit up slight before answering. "My name is bla-" Before I can finish, throat tightens and my current state of dehydration, my dry throat, causes the words to stick in my mouth. 'I don't know who these people are, I should be careful.' "Blade, my name is blade."
"Interesting name." Jiro comments, almost absentmindedly. "Focus Jiro." Ichiro pulls him out of his trance with a simple phrase. "Anyways," He turns towards me. "What's a kid like you doing out late at night," He pauses, giving me a second to think before continuing. "And what left you so tired that you fainted outside our cafe."
"I..." I take some more time to think up a believable story. 'I can't just tell them I woke up in an alleyway in a new in a new body and a new world.' I raise my hand to rub my temples. "I don't remember."
Jiro looks at me with a concerned look on his face. "You shouldn't be out so late, where are your parents?" I answer again without looking at them, "I...I don't remember."
Ichiro places his hand on my shoulder, his face softening as he asks me another question. "What is it that you do remember?"
I rub my eyes, looking down before answering, "Nothing. I don't remember anything." I look towards the brothers whose faces turn cold. They turn to look at each other before saying in sync, "Shit."