Adrenaline Wreckage

Rain sliced through Tokyo's sodium lights as grinning Sei Kaito gunned the engine of a pearl white stolen sports car. He’d been eyeing it for weeks, watching as it was parked in the garage of one of Tokyo’s most esteemed towers, home to some of the wealthiest people in the city. Every night, at the same time, the business man in the grey pinstriped suit who owned it always checked twice to make sure it was locked, a manner of routine rehearsed like clockwork. But on that downpouring night, as the glowing moon hung high in the sky, he should have checked a third time.

Tires screamed against the wet asphalt, leaving faint marks that would be washed away by morning. Reflections of red and blue lights spun across the windshield in ghastly shapes. The sirens behind him continued to howl their never ending cries, close enough for him to taste.

Evading police was nothing new to Kaito, in fact these days it was the only thing that made him feel truly alive. An adrenaline junky to the highest degree, he’d accepted the notion that he was too far gone to be saved. Breaking into mostly abandoned buildings, shoplifting unneeded items, grant theft auto on vehicles worth a few million yen was all part of what kept his blood pumping. He was sure that a mundane life would be the death of him, that his heart would explode on the spot if he ever stopped moving.

Kaito had the car pinned to the edge of its breath, the chromatic frame shivering from his uncaring touch. His grin split wide anyway, teeth flashing in the passing lights.

His sneaker floored the pedal, his heartbeat syncing up with the speedometers ticking. Swerving through lanes of startled cars, the cigarette that hung from his lips trailed smoke behind him in a shaky halo. Tokyo's air came in waves of rain on hot pavement, gasoline, and electric dust, his favourite scent in the whole world.

The cops grew farther in his rearview mirror, their outdated and beaten up cars no match for his suited up ride. Somewhere above, hidden among the skyscrapers, a helicopter blade whirred, its pilot having a front row seat to the intense chase.

Kaito laughed, feeling proud that all these security measures were brought out just for him. "You want me that bad? You’re gonna have to do better than that!"

Pushing the pedal down with even more pressure even though it was already floored, he soared through the red traffic lights that guarded Shibuya Crossing. The intersection opened up before him, a silver flood of umbrellas and pedestrians crossing in every direction. But there it was, a narrow gap just between the waves of people, a perfect parting in the silver sea. His grin grew even wider, feeling like a movie star about to enact the grand finale of his hollywood flick.

But things rarely worked out as Kaido hoped, and this time was no exception. A streak of purple flashed in the opening, that perfect movie moment stained beyond recovery. The silicone rubber of a child’s raincoat, a little girl skipping along and splashing through the puddles far ahead of her parents. Right in the midst of his path. Her pure face turned up to him, just a quick blur of rosy cheeks and hazel eyes that met his own with unnerving calm.

He yanked the wheel with his foot still glued to the gas, his knuckles turning white as he almost tore the console apart.

The car shrieked as it skidded sideways, tires biting into the wet street. Metal slammed against concrete and the car groaned in pain, it’s polished windows shattering into disoriented glass shards in the glittering rain. The whole world spun in tumbling silver and neon streaks, then stopped with a gut retching crunch.

For a long second, there was only the hiss of steam, the clicking of cooling metal, the smell of burning rubber. Kaito wasn't even sure if he was still alive. His entire body was pale, like the blood in his veins had been swapped with the gasoline in the tank. His eyes tried to adjust to what had just happened, blinking rapidly as if the photo was gonna get any clearer. Orienting himself just enough, slinking his way out of the bulges of sharpened metal that had only narrowly missed his innards, he kicked the warped door open.

His knees screamed as they hit the ground, a surge of static erupting up his entire body. He thought for sure he had crashed right into a power line, that if he wasn't already dead the final blow would be the car erupting into a bellowing pile of amber and ash stricken with burning electricity.

He recalled a story his mother had told him in a drunken haze about a man who had gotten in a car accident, feeling just fine as he sat in the wreck of his vehicle. Only when he stood up from the wreckage and walked off to the sidewalk, did a glance back dislocate his neck from his shoulder and kill him instantly. Kaito waited unnervingly for this moment, but for better or for worse, it didn’t come.

The once elegant pearl white car was now folded into the storefront of a takoyaki shop, an abstract sculpture of his failure. With the story his mother told him still on his mind, he didn't bother to look back.

He ran.

Down an alley he vaulted a trash bin, his palms slipping on its wet lid. Dogs barked around him, but the ringing in his ears made it difficult to make out the sounds of anything else. He stopped trying to think, feeling like a grenade had gone off in the inside of his skull, sure that the cops would tackle him to the pavement in any second. Continuing to cut through winding alleys, his lungs burned hotter than the smoldering cigarette he had dropped from his lips.

Neon light dripped off puddles, staining the water pink and blue. His sneakers slapped against metal stairs as he climbed up passageways that led higher and higher. The subway tracks suspended above glittered with moisture, rain collected on the steel veins that split the night sky. Hauling himself up onto the elevated platform, sirens wailed right behind his neck.

The hum of the subway rails vibrated through the soles of his sneakers, and the sound of voices behind him became more than just imagination.

"Police! Don't move!"

Ahead of him, a line of red lights tracked the path, and beyond them the white glare of an oncoming train.

Kaito froze like a hand had grasped his heart and halted its beating.

There was nowhere left to run, he was at the end of his burning rope. Glancing down below into the neon coloured abyss, for a second the thought to jump crossed his mind, but the immeasurable drop was certainly fatal.

"Hell of a night to be born, huh?"

Kaito's gaze darted to the figure standing beside the signal tower, half hidden in the shadow.

The man’s coat patched together from other coats, with a beard like tangled wire. His skin was like old paper, but his eyes glittered like wet ink. Beside him sat a rusted shopping cart filled with radios, all softly hissing white noise.

"Running's a funny thing," the man said. "The faster you go, the more the world peels away, till it's just you and the noise."

"You talking to me, old man?"

The stranger smiled. "Who else? No one else left worth talking to."

"You're nuts, man."

"Maybe," the man said. "But you feel it, don't you? That itch under your ribs. The thing that keeps you moving, that won’t let you stop. I saw you looked down."

"You one of them?"

The man laughed, a dry, warm sound. "I'm one of us. Question is, are you?"

Sirens climbed the ladder. The police were close.

"You're actually crazy," Kaito replied, looking past him at the tracks. The train's glow was emerging from the tunnel, in a few moments it’d be right where they stood. "You should get clear from here. Unless you've got a death wish."

"A wish of death, or a wish of life? Yes, that is the question. You can take the leap, or you can give in, Kaisei. The choice is yours to make."

"What’d you just call-"

"Go on." The man gestured around. “What’s it gonna be?"

The train's horn wailed a banshee cry, closer, closer, closer.

The police were shouting now, closing in, their guns slicked in the rainlight.

"Freeze! Don't move!"

Kaito's pulse synced with the rumble of the train, the wind ripped across his face. Looking down, every window blinked back at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

The old man tilted his head. "Just an old cat who keeps the mice at bay. And you’ve gotta decide if you’re a cat or a mouse."

He should've tried to let the train pass him by. He should've surrendered to the police and accepted his punishment. He should've done anything else. But in the silence of the roar, in the gap between the heartbeats, for the first time in years the noise in his head went silent, as he jumped off the platform. Down, down, down, into the open abyss.