Arven 002 Chapter 1

ARVEN 002

CHAPTER 1

A Simple Man

Kenji Satomo was in love with music, danger, and worldly pleasures. From a very young age, he made it clear to the world around him that he was going places, not all of them good places. Now fifteen years old, Kenji had no time for girls or books, two pursuits that other young men his age showed such passion for. His only loves were his guitar, his fight club, and his stash. In the boys’ bathroom of a small school planted in the misty reaches of Hokkaido, he knelt over the toilet seat of a tiny stall, inhaling little bits of heaven through a straw stuck into his nose. He came up for air once the lines on the paper had vanished, and shouted his exhilaration to the empty air. Only an echo answered, and only his guitar awaited him when he was done.

His walk home was largely uneventful. He strode down the small dirt roads playing folk music and American rock, singing his heart out and thinking of his idols, like L’Arc En Ciel and X Japan. Kenji was in his own world, jamming on stage before a sold out crowd. A rough voice interrupted his reverie. “Hey, Satomo!”, it yelled from somewhere nearby, “ Shut your mouth, you talentless fuck. Nobody likes you or your so-called ‘music.’”

Kenji found the source of the voice; a pudgy, muscular young man with ruddy hair and freckles. “Do us all a favor and just leave the school. Drop out and hit the road.” Kenji sighed as he put his guitar away. “I would love to…”, he said as he got to his feet, “But then who would be left to put assholes like you in your place?” The young man scowled, and Kenji settled into the same unnatural fighting stance that he had been practicing since he could walk. His wrists lay limp by his sides, held up by barely-bent elbows and hovering above legs that were almost straight. “Ain’t worth it.”, the young man called, then turned away. With a gleeful cackle, Kenji was blocking his path. “Whassa matter, lardo? Scared of little old scrawny me?”

Enraged beyond words at being taunted, the bully threw a reckless straight punch, playing right into Kenji’s hands. A quick dodge to the left and a simple turning motion with two hands were all it took to snap the punching arm like a twig, but Kenji didn't let go. He picked the hefty child up by the arm, swung him in a wide circle, then threw him as hard as he could into a nearby tree. The bully passed out on impact, his face a gaunt mask of agony and his screams still echoing across the hillside. Thinking of how that boy would feel when he woke up, Kenji chuckled as he retrieved his guitar. The adrenaline rush from fighting paired gloriously with the cocaine, and Kenji was playing up a storm walking the rest of the way home.

At home, Kenji was berated by his father, blamed as always for his mother’s death, and sent to bed without dinner. Kenji retrieved a cooler from under his bed and produced a beer and a sandwich from it. After his meal, he his the beer bottle in a bag in the back of his closet, then laid down for the night. He had the same dream again. Just like every night, he stood alone in the stars with an elven-looking creature. It spoke a strange tongue, but Kenji somehow understood. “ I beg of you…”, it said, “Never forget yourself.” The creature's black horns and red eyes faded to reveal a simple boy, pale and drawn. “Never forget the name Arven Repner.”