Of Days Long Past

They were stories from another time.

The televisions played in the store display, showing scenes of old recordings from classic shows.

On one of the TVs was a man in a blue armored suit wearing a wolf’s head helmet, the pieces sleek except for the ones on the back of his hands and his boots. Those had imprints of claws etched on them.

The wolfish figure posed, arms crossing his chest at the wrist in an ‘X’. Behind him was a second figure in black, this one with a feathery cape and a raven’s head helmet.

The closed captions showed the wolf man saying, “Another plot by the Jade Chrysanthemum! Let’s go, Raven Scout!”

“Right behind you, Wolf Knight!”

Wolf Knight and Raven Scout charged at the Jade Chrysanthemum flunkies dressed in black and green, the scene erupting into a brawl.

On another TV screen was a scene from an animated show, where a young girl was flying through the air wearing a white and blue dress. A pair of bear’s ears flapped in the wind as she moved, her hands twirling a staff longer than she was tall. A pink orb at the top of the staff glowed with each rotation of the staff, forming a magic shield that blocked a barrage of black projectiles from slamming into her.

The bear-eared girl pointed the staff at the ground below, where a monster with whip-like tentacles for arms swung them into the air and stretched towards the girl –

“HONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!” A great sphere of pink magical energy grew at the end of the staff, a band of yellow swirling around it as it collected, charging until at last!

“BEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!”

A swirl of pink and yellow spiraled down towards the tentacled monster, which disappeared when the light slammed into it and the ground.

But on the street watching both televisions was a girl maybe ten years old in her school uniform. She had a bear hairpin stuck in her black hair, green eyes darting back and forth between the two scenes.

Kumiko Yasuda loved both of these shows. Wolf Knight and Magical Girl Sweet Bear were her favorites. And this was the only store she’d ever seen either of them play at.

She could hear an older couple behind her talking to themselves, but they were talking loud enough for her to hear.

“…Aren’t those shows older than she is?”

“Yeah, still good stuff, though. Whatever happened to them?”

“Beats me,” one of them shrugged. “I remember those shows were everywhere back in the day. Not a peep of them since.”

Kumiko frowned and started walking through the busy streets of Tokyo. As she descended into the subway, she lamented that fact. The only reason she knew about those shows was her parents had owned complete copies of both. She made a point to stop at that store to get a glimpse every day after school.

She would see advertisements sometimes for other shows. Ones about shows like Sweet Bear or Wolf Knight that her classmates would talk about. She’d tried watching but something was off about them. It was hard to put her finger on it.

Halfway through the ride home, she saw three high school boys harassing a fourth. The trio must have been third-years while their target was a first if the disparity in their size was a clue. Each of the third-years also wore leather jackets with something pinned to them.

“…on, Kenji,” the tallest of the third-years hissed. “You wanna be a weak nobody or you wanna shoot to the top of the food chain? ‘Cause this offer’s not gonna last long.”

Kenji was a head shorter than the shortest third-year and twenty pounds overweight. “I don’t know, Aoji, his seems like a bad idea.”

“Tell you what’s a bad idea.” The tallest third year grabbed Kenji by his school uniform and pulled him close. “Your fucking attitude. Are you in or aren’t you?!” Aoji’s hand ruffled Kenji’s hair roughly and pushed into

Maybe it was how the sun was reflecting into the train car. But for a split-second Kumiko thought she saw the third-year’s teeth be impossibly sharp. All of the third-years looked that way.

She could finally get a good look at the pin on the boys’ jackets – a green flower. It looked damn familiar.

Kumiko’s body moved towards the boys as she realized what it was. “Hey!” she shouted. “Leave him alone!”

The trio and Kenji all looked at the ten-year old, curious. Aoji didn’t spare her young ears. “The fuck are you looking at, you loli bitch?”

Kumiko was not one to take that kind of challenge lightly. “A bunch of Jade Chrysanthemum wannabes.”

Aoji let Kenji go, rounding on Kumiko. “‘Wannabe’? I’m gonna teach you a lesson on having such a big mouth on that runt of a body!” He raised his leg to bring it around for a roundhouse kick –

Only for Kenji to interpose himself between the third-year’s boot and Kumiko’s head. The kick went right into his ribs, knocking him onto his knees as the train started slowing down to the next stop.

Kumiko gasped and looked at the third-years, who all scoffed at Kenji’s efforts. “Alright,” said Aoji. “That’s your call then. Enjoy being lunchmeat. Koyo! Roge! Let’s bounce!” The third-years all got off at the stop, laughing all the way.

She looked at the rest of the car as she tried helping Kenji back on his feet. There were a dozen other people in the car and most of them were all grown up. Why was she the only one who’d bothered speaking up?

----

That question hung over Kumiko the rest of the way home.

It took a few more stops before she got off the train in Minato City, one of Tokyo’s wards and one of the wealthiest parts of the city. Ironically, it was Kenji’s stop as well – he meekly nodded at Kumiko before going his own way.

She saw public workers trying to remove graffiti from the station’s exterior. Someone had defaced it with horrible messages.

[A NEW JAPAN REQUIRES OLD SOLUTIONS], read one. Another was blunter. [NO HOPE, NO FUTURE, BURN IT ALL DOWN.]

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen these. But it was the first she’d seen it so close to home.

Kumiko hurried home. Two blocks away was her family home – a three-story house with a garage. A wooden sign with the characters for ‘Yasuda’ hung next to the front door.

She took off her shoes when she got in. “I’m home!”

The familiar smell of burning food drifted through the air. As Kumiko went up the stairs to the top floor, she already knew what to expect. It was like clockwork.

Kumiko’s mother was at the stove, choking on the smoke emanating from her pan.

Miho was a very skilled cook. You had to be at a certain level of cooking to burn water, and the confidence to still want to keep going on after. She was almost the spitting image of Kumiko, with matching black hair and green eyes. Take away twenty years and about a foot in height, and you’d never know the difference.

“Welcome home,” sputtered Miho. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“Y-Yeah,” lied Kumiko. She decided not to bring up the stuff from the train.

On the couch facing a wall-mounted flat-screen TV was her father, Hideo. He wasn’t the talkative type. He was still in his suit from work, his black hair stubbornly resistant to any hair product or grooming.

His dark brown eyes stared right into hers with a knowing look. Hideo could always tell Kumiko was lying. It was like he could smell it on her.

He was going to ask. Hideo shifted in his seat, leaning in towards Kumiko to pop the question.

“We’re ordering Chinese.” He waved a folded yellow pamphlet in front of Kumiko. “Let me know what you want.”