The Price of Courage

A peaceful night settled over Tokyo. The streets were quiet, cars humming softly as they passed by. A man in a business suit walked along the sidewalk, his lips curved into a grin that mixed excitement with relief. Takahiro Yamamoto, twenty-one years old. An ordinary man, black hair, neither too short nor too long. His build was average, though his frame hinted at someone who exercised regularly.

Well, that was intense… he thought. Uh, not really, but damn, I was nervous as hell.

The night breeze brushed against his face, gently lifting his hair. He drew in a long breath, completely exhausted.

Man… I just want to sleep. His gaze wandered upward, toward the calm, star-speckled sky.

He was a man with an exhausted heart. The trauma, the memories, the relationships—each one a burden he wished he could forget.

—No point in remembering that now, he thought.

Then another thought crossed his mind—food. His stomach grumbled at the idea, and tonkatsu immediately popped into his head. He could almost taste the crispy breading and rich flavor. His mouth watered as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

He chuckled to himself. Actually…maybe I should grab a bite. I mean, after all, I did land a job today. A grin spread across his face. Yeah, let’s celebrate with some tonkatsu.

Without realizing it, he threw both arms into the air.

“YEAH! SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the quiet street

Silence fell. Two women nearby turned to stare at him. Takahiro froze, “Eh…”

Takahiro then slowly turned his head toward them—his first reaction was to laugh awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with him? Does he have some kind of condition?” whispered the woman in black, her long black hair swaying slightly.

“I dunno… I think he does. Well wouldn’t say exactly, maybe an illness?” replied the other, a blonde dressed in grey.

Takahiro’s face burned red with embarrassment, steaming.

Uh-oh… I said that out loud. In the middle of the street. In front of TWO WOMEN?!

He quickly raised his briefcase to cover his face, wishing he could disappear. He thought it was for the best too leave to avoid any further embarrassment. He scanned around, searching desperately for an escape route. Then, he spotted an alley behind him.

Ah! Yes! I can go through there!

Without hesitation, he ducked into the alley, leaving the two women blinking in confusion.

He sighed in relief. “Phew…”

Dammit, I need to control my damn body, he thought, his face still flushed red.

Doesn’t matter right now. I just want to grab some food and head home.

Lowering his briefcase, he started down the narrow alley. Almost immediately, a strange sense of unease crept up his spine. The air felt heavier here, colder. He glanced around, walking through the alley cautiously.

“Why is this place so sketchy…?” he muttered under his breath. A bead of sweat slid down his cheek.

As he continued walking, his eyelids grew heavy. The day had drained every ounce of energy from him, and the thought of celebrating no longer sounded appealing.

He yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Dammit, I’m too tired. I guess I’ll buy the tonkatsu tomorrow, the—”

Before he could finish, a scream cut through the alley. It was sharp and terrified—a woman’s voice.

“HELP!!”

Takahiro froze, eyes snapping wide open. His exhaustion vanished in an instant, replaced by adrenaline.

The hell? That scream scared the living shit out of me…

But curiosity got the better of him. Heart pounding, he gathered what courage he could and moved forward, each step careful and tense.

His hand trembled as he reached the corner. Taking a slow breath, he peeked around—his heartbeat uneven, the rush of paranoia flooding his chest.

His eyes widened. In the dim light ahead, he caught sight of a woman struggling against a hooded man. It took him only a moment to realize what was happening—the woman was being robbed.

“Just give me the damn purse, bitch!” the man shouted, yanking hard on the woman’s tan bag.

The woman’s voice shook with panic. “Help! Someone, please help me!”

Takahiro stumbled backward, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. His mind went blank, a wave of terror freezing him where he stood. It felt like his body remembered something awful—like an echo of trauma he couldn’t shake.

She’s getting robbed?! he screamed inside his head.

His legs trembled uncontrollably, his lips quivering. No matter how much he tried, his body refused to move. Frustration built inside him like pressure about to burst.

Dammit! Why won’t my legs move?!

Then something clicked—his eyes widened again. A memory surfaced, a promise he’d once made to himself. The sound of it in his head was louder than his fear.

Why am I just standing here… watching this happen again?

Why am I doing this… again?

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. Every part of his body screamed in fear, but he forced himself to move. Gathering all his strength, he pushed himself up from the ground and let go of his briefcase. His eyes flared with determination.

No… I’m not making the same stupid mistake again, he thought.

He took a step forward—then another—until he broke into a sprint.

“HEY! GET OFF OF HER!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the alley.

The hooded man turned, startled, just as Takahiro slammed into him. They both hit the ground hard, struggling for control.

“Call the police!” Takahiro yelled, wrestling with the man’s arms.

The woman hesitated for a second before nodding frantically. “R-right! I will!”

This guy’s still resisting?! How stubborn is he? Takahiro thought, frustration building. Fine—guess I have no choice but to do this…

He raised his fist and drove it straight into the man’s face.

“Urgh!” he grunted, then hit him again—and again. Blood splattered across his knuckles and cheeks, each strike fueled by fear and adrenaline.

The world blurred into red and motion. His heart pounded, his breath ragged. Finally, he stopped—his trembling fist hovering midair. The man lay unconscious beneath him.

Takahiro’s chest rose and fell rapidly. He stared at his bloodied hands, his heart twisting with guilt. He hadn’t meant to go that far.

I don’t plan to kill anyone… taking one’s life isn’t my thing. He thought, breathing heavily as he climbed the man.

Takahiro stood up slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Are the police coming?” he asked, turning his gaze toward the woman.

She nodded quickly. “Oh, uh—yes. They’re on their way right now.” She bowed deeply, her voice trembling with relief. “Thank you so much, mister! I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Takahiro loosened his tie, letting out a small sigh. “No need. Just… don’t tell the police I was involved, alright?”

“Huh?” The woman blinked, confused. “Sir, I don’t think I can do that. I mean, what am I supposed to tell them? That some random guy showed up, helped me, and then just ran off?”

He gave a faint smile. “You said you didn’t know how to repay me, right? Then consider this my request in return.”

Takahiro walked off, his footsteps echoing softly against the pavement, leaving the woman standing there—speechless.

—Then—

A low groan broke the silence. The hooded man stirred, clutching his jaw as he forced himself back to his feet.

The woman turned toward him, her face draining of color..

The man’s hand slipped into his pocket—and when it came back out, a pistol gleamed in the dim light.

“Watch out!” her voice rang out, filled with terror.

Takahiro turned just in time, his eyes widening. The barrel of the gun was pointed straight at him.

“You know…” the hooded man hissed, his voice venomous, “there’s something called minding your own business.”

Takahiro’s mind raced. His body froze in terror.

—Then—

The man squeezed the trigger three times.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each bullet tore through Takahiro’s chest, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Blood splattered across the pavement as he stumbled backward.

The woman’s scream echoed through the alley. The hooded man dropped his gun and fled.

Takahiro coughed violently, crimson spilling from his lips as he clutched his chest. His eyes widened—three holes, blood pouring freely.

I’ve been… shot… he thought, before collapsing onto his back.

The woman rushed to his side, tears streaming down her face. She pressed her hands against his wounds, her voice trembling. “Stay with me! The police are coming, just hang on!”

Takahiro’s breathing grew shallow. His vision blurred at the edges, the night sky fading into a haze. Tears welled in his eyes as frustration twisted in his chest.

Why… of all people, why does it have to be me? he thought bitterly. Why do I deserve this hell? Tell me why… TELL ME!

The faint wail of police sirens echoed in the distance. His body felt colder by the second, the puddle of blood beneath him growing wider.

Only one thought filled his mind was regret. Guilt, rage, and frustration consumed him all at once. He didn’t want to die. Not at all.

Why can’t I just live… just once? Why do I have to suffer so much? TELL ME WHY?! he screamed inside his head.

“The police are here! Please, don’t die on me!” the woman cried, her voice growing dim.

Takahiro’s tears streamed down his cheeks as he coughed and gasped for air.

Come on… if God really exists, then why do I have to suffer like this?

Why do I have to bear this bullshit of a life?!

His vision dimmed, his pupils' colors fading into a pale blur. His body grew heavy and cold.

Screw this… I just want to die. Leave me alone… I just want to rest.

The woman’s cries and the shouts of police officers blurred together, their voices distant and hollow. They rushed to his side, trying desperately to keep him alive—but it was too late.

His eyelids fell shut. The world around him fell into silence.

All I wanted… was a second chance at life.

That’s all I ever asked for…

Everything went pitch black. In the endless void of black, a calm voice echoed.

“You have suffered far too much… and endured unbearable pain. Your wish for a second chance shall be granted and bestowed upon you. Use it wisely, for this shall be your last… Takahiro.”