Raiden Tsukumo, the Japanese kid from high school (?)

“What the hell is Raiden Tsukumo doing here?”

Raiden was someone you went to high school with. He was made instantly popular with the entire school. He was especially adored by the weebs once they learned about his rich Japanese background. He was liked by everyone else because he had an excellent sense of humor and quick wits.

You didn’t expect him to be on your friends’ list, though. You didn’t hang out with him that often, even when you intended the same school.

The Fate smiled at you, though. “Oh, Raiden has fond memories of you, Klaus! You carpooled him to parties and, even if you didn’t know it, introduced him to his first-ever girlfriend.”

She seemed happy to talk about Raiden. “He visits your retail store as often as he does so he can talk to you.”

Again, you blushed. You never considered Raiden that much of a friend, but he must appreciate you if he popped up on the list. “Really?”

The Fate nods. “Uh-mm! He isn’t gay or anything, but he does consider you a fairly close acquaintance. He owes ME a favor too.” She eyed you closely.

“He looked a bit better in his suit, but you don’t look too bad either.”

Whenever you saw Raiden, he was dressed very nicely. He drove at least a dozen different sports cars and seemed always to be adding to his aggressive-looking tattoo sleeve. To be honest, you were pretty sure he had links to the Yakuza. Maybe he was a lord or something?

“I… I’ll go with Raiden.” You say, pushing the paper back to the woman.

“Good luck, Weber.” She winked at you. “Depending on your first day, we’ll supply you with as much time as you need!”

“Cool!” You cheer. “But what if-“

She snaps her fingers, and everything goes out in a blink.

...

...

You stir and let out a groan. Goddamn dream. You think and then out a heavy sigh.

You stare at the ceiling, half-asleep and seriously confused for some reason. As you swing your legs off the bed, you experience real-world lag. Were you hungover? You covered your face and groaned. You felt sick too, and now that you’ve moved out of the sheets, it felt as though your head was going to split in half.

You lurched and let go of everything you ate the night prior: Rice, seaweed, chunks of bread, and what could only be identified as either cooked chicken or raw fish.

You watched your leftovers slowly pool in together. Your vision pulsed, and your stomach churned, threatening for you to do it again.

Another groan left your mouth, and then a jumble of words boiled out next. “Clean this up, Carly!”

You pushed yourself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, just nearly missing her as she carried cleaning supplies to your room. Your feet patter against the marble floor as you. You’re so dizzy you almost trip when you get to the sink.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swallow and rinse your face. “I...I’m going to…”

Your reflection wasn't your own. It was Raiden’s! As you stared into Raiden’s dark brown eyes, you struggled to filter your thoughts and memories with Raiden’s. “Kuso…”

Raiden had certainly seen better days. His right eye was swollen and black. There was a cut on his cheek, slightly pink, but it still looked recent. You pulled up on your shirt and saw stitches on your abdomen. You took off your shirt completely and saw even more scars. Some looked newer than others, but your “new” body had been through the wringer! “Holy shit, what have I been doing??”

A line of words you shouldn’t have been able to understand came into your mind. It was in your voice, but it also wasn’t. You felt sick again, but this time you bolted for the porcelain throne and gagged out whatever else was in Raiden- your stomach.

“Kuso…-!?!” You were throwing up so much you thought you were going to start seeing your organs come spilling out. After the fourth or sixth time, you finally flushed the toilet and sat on the edge of the bathtub, trembling on uneasy legs. You heard a small knock come from the entry. A person, you know as Carly, came in with a bottle of water.

She was an older woman. You would have guessed she was around 70, but you knew she was actually nearing her 80's. She was white - she didn't have a single drop of Asian blood in her. For some reason, you didn't have an ounce of respect for her. You almost hated her and you didn't even know why. Despite being white, she spoke clear Japanese.

“Tsukumo, have some water, please. This isn’t how you should be spending the beginning of your weekend.” She approached meekly as if she was afraid of you lashing out and striking her. She offered you the bottle of water.

You extend a hand out and snatch the bottle of water from her. You twist the cap and down the bottle in just a few gulps.

“Yes,” you started, in English. “I...what day is it?”

The old woman, Carly, knitted her brows. “It’s Friday.”

You laughed and said something in Japanese. “TGIF.”

You knew Emily would be opening today. You twisted your wrist and looked at the watch the Fate had given you. It was almost noon. “Get some coffee ready for me, Carly. I’m going to shower and head down to the store today.”

She looked at you, concerned. “You stay home. Rest and get yourself in order.”

“Fuck off with that shit,” the words left your mouth without permission. You didn’t remember Raiden being this aggressive. But you had a feeling you were going to start learning a lot more about him. You felt a lot of anger inside your system, and it wasn’t even from the hangover. “I’m gonna get shit from the store and come right back. You got that, woman?”

Carly recoiled shamefully and nodded. You groaned and rubbed your temples. “Ah, Jesus Christ. Sorry, Carly, I’m...I’m feeling kind of off today. You don’t need to worry about me, OK? I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll do what I need to do.”

Now she looked surprised, but she didn’t dare smile. “No need to apologize, young master. I’ll prepare your coffee.”

As the water runs off your face and down your back and legs, you let your mind explore Raiden. There were a lot of demons and gruesome stuff in here. He was dangerous and was involved in a lot of hazardous things. Gangs. Gunrunning. and street racing. This guy liked you? This guy was loaded, made rich by his own mind and dirty trade. The tattoos that rolled up your arms were vivid in color. There were several severed heads you didn’t notice before. Every demonic yellow eye stared up at you, enticing horrible thoughts to bleed into your line of thinking.

When you got out to dry off, you notice the Raiden didn’t carry the Japanese stereotype of being short between the legs. “Nice cock,” you muttered. “Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?”

Muscle memory took over after you threw the towel in the hamper. Hair paste, cologne, and matching deodorant came next, leaving you feeling like the most expensive 23-year-old in town. When you returned to your room, you are automatically guided to your closet. You picked out a deep black suit and grabbed a handgun that looked like it just came out of a video game and strapped it to your belt with a Kydex appendix holster. Do I always strap to clap when I go to visit Klaus? Goddamn right, I do, but now that you are looking this good...Perhaps you should treat yourself to something else?