You'd Better Be Worth Something.

They say if you don’t know how to start a conversation, the weather is always a good place to start. After all, it sets the mood, and is innocuous enough to disarm you.

When it comes to guys like me, however, you just know from the moment you lay eyes on me that whether or not it is a sunny day, or a ‘dark stormy night’ that I definitely had no real proactive plans.

You know what else they say? To assume is to make an arse of you and me.

It just so happens that I am very much in tune with the weather. And of course I am, because while most everyone is holed up inside their homes drinking hot chocolate, I am forced to work this shift at my toll collector job even though a huge snow storm draws near town.

Looking back on my life, it's like it all led up to this.

Elementary school, Junior high, all the way down to college. Every step of the way I had chosen to give up at the slightest bit of challenge, or of confrontation. For that I was rewarded with a dulling peace, and cursed with a growing sense of nonexistence.

“No one is coming to save you, son. You have to get out there, lighten up and take on something for yourself. The timid thing was cute then, but you're not a kid anymore.” A piece of wisdom from my uncle I received from the mouth of my mother.

Because of course, no real man wants to deal face to face with something like that. Someone who has resigned themselves to being a doormat not even worth remembering. Someone who might as well have been born a toll collector.

(ouch)!

And yet. Maybe it's ok like this, living paycheck-to-paycheck, sometimes getting stuck at work, on a Saturday Evening….!

“WHOOOO!”

I suddenly came back to after being in a haze of my thoughts. My computer is still playing that god-awful late night high school Anime my coworker had been raving about. That was them just now. I guess something finally happened.

The heat had slowly been leaving the booth, so I stepped out for a second to check on the guy (and to actually feel the temperature difference once I got back in there).

“Uh, Mikio, everything good out here?” I said, semi-concerned.

“Huh? Oh hey buddy, what's up, how's it goin…” Mikio responded a quarter less concerned.

“By the way, ‘boss says you gotta wait a bit longer to be relieved. Cho is running late.” He added while half distracted eating a candy bar.

My face quickly changed, and you can imagine just what my expression was, but I believe in that split second Mikio caught a bit of it. He turned around to finally face me.

“Oh? I thought you needed the hours anyway. Why are you acting out?” He said sternly and mockingly.

“I-It’s a normal reaction…,” I sputtered out.

“ I dunno, that face gave me creepo energy, for real,” he stated with a smarmy confidence.

“Hahaha, just kidding. But come on now, you and I know you aren't paid for being normal. Much respect but you’ve got an abnormal duty to this job. What's it been, six years?” Mikio continued.

He's one to talk, he has been here for four years himself.

“Always on time, always sacrificing way more than you should, just for a job you’d probably never lose until you grow grey or ‘til you catch the hint that they don't care about you bro…”

“So tell me, what would you rather be doing? Ya gotta have a couple ideas, being stuck in that box all day, haha!” Mikio looked at me with almost sparkling eyes that I couldn't read as evil or innocent. That must be the difference between someone who can get a clue and one who can't.

“I guess…, I don't have any great convictions.” I said resignedly, still staring at his hand.

And he started laughing

“Pfh. Figures, Keiji. I knew that, but I just wanted to mess with you a bit.” Mikio’s brimming smile revealed itself as what someone like me would take as malice.

“Oh really, that's funny.” I said plainly.

“Yeah, see I'm quitting today.” He said as he went back to his half-tired, uncaring mode.

I see.

I started to walk back to my booth, when I caught wind of a car pulling up to Mikio’s toll.

As I was walking I kept looking back again at Mikio, a man who just quit his job. What right does he have to ruin my mood on a day I’d rather not be here, just so he can get his sick kicks and leave.

I was Royally Perturbed.

So I kept walking. As the snow started up I continued walking still.

And walking.

And walking:

*ring*

It was my phone. The caller was under the name ‘Royal Pain.’

My boss. I didn’t pick up; about five times I left him on read. But I received a voicemail:

I see you’ve left your post...and you won’t return my call. Fine, get lost, and freeze to death for all I care. No one will be there to save you from that storm.

That's the big idea.

-

It had been about two and a half hours since I began walking. Now I was trudging over nearby hills alongside the road, barely being able to see in front of me or where to place my next step. I had probably walked three miles out. My breathing was becoming more erratic.

I had a lot of time to think. Time to think about my stupid decision. That was about an hour and a half ago though. Now all my focus is on staying conscious in this freezing cold.

*Badump*

Suddenly, I tripped on myself, falling backwards into the snow. It all happened so fast, starting from the top of the hill I rolled down near the foot of it (while being rather contorted might I add).

Due to the freezing temperature, my knees had locked up a bit, and I am quite sure a bit of everything was broken.

What a life.

It wasn't a rebellion. Again, all I did was run away from confrontation. That's not power, that’s a tantrum. And now it may cost me my life.

Do I have any dreams?

There was a time when I thought of that stuff. Maybe I’d get to go back in time and right the wrongs put upon me by the consequence of life. Or even that I’d be transported to another world where I can get another second cha-

Oh you mean like something in this reality?

*Twinkle*

Huh. Would you look at that; It’s a shooting star. A meteor is falling in this winter wonderland like a hot coal. How quaint. The physical universe is an odd thing. It moves with such order, but us humans are so erratic that such a thing as fate can be conceived. But I digress.

My breathing was closing up, I better make this quick.

I guess if there was one thing I wanted, It would be to be ‘someone worth remembering.’

Yeah… that's what I want.

“I want to be someone worth remembering!” I raspily shouted.

And In five minutes, I would lose feeling in my fingers as I closed my eyes.

Au Revoir.

-

I feel wet.

Not just the wetness of snow. Not even the ‘I pissed myself’ wet. No, this was a kind of icky feeling like being hit with warm water while wearing a t-shirt.

Had I gone to…? No way. I had to be alive still.

I slowly opened my eyes, but it took a while for my eyes to adjust. As they opened I was met with a very odd situation, one which made me want to close my eyes right back.

And slowly, I flapped my right eye open again.

“Eye gri youg bianytuk, tef wi naepl!”

Woah.

The weird looking man I had just seen before I closed my eyes, (of which I can only assume just spoke in another language) began feeling and shaking my arms.

Suddenly he grabs my ear, and drops something in there? I felt a tingle and a wriggling throughout my ears and body.

“Hey! Stop touching me man! Just who are you?!” I responded, sitting erect to reject his advances.

“I said, I know you’re awake, so just get up!” The man exclaimed in a language I could finally understand.

…He spoke in a language I could understand? Just where in the world am I?!

The burly man wore armor around his left shoulder, and dark padded clothing all round. He had bronze skin like that of someone who lived in the sun, and his hair was a bright white, and yet he barely looked 30. Though worn down, the room we were in looked nothing even remotely contemporary or familiar. It wasn’t the hospital for one thing.

But the man, he started smiling. It was a smile I could recognize as genuine only because he had such an obtuse getup on. Whether it was genuine for my benefit was another thing.

Could I have been- No, no. Impossible! I could’ve finished my shift and just went home. Sure, my ego and pride would have been shot to even lower depths, but at least…!

But, perhaps it was a dream; a coma. And if that were the case, It is only right for me to engage with things as lightheartedly as possible.

There were many things one should ask in such a situation (primarily ‘why?’), but so many thoughts were running through my head. Said thoughts would quickly dissipate once my other senses kicked in.

Something really stunk in that room, and I think it was me.

I looked down at myself and started my questioning from there.

“What is this stuff?!” I exclaimed.

“You oughta know to ask a man his name before you address him so casually…hmm? Hmm?!” The man exclaimed, easing towards me exaggeratedly.

“Y-gulp, yes sir, no issues here! Please, what is your name?” No answer on the substance, I guess I'm fine with that now.

“Forget about that. Get cleaned up, then I'll decide if you’re worth sharing that info,” the man answered, tossing a rag to me.

He then showed me my vest from work, all chewed up and destitute. He flicked it with his hand and examined it while speaking to me.

“A foreign male gets vomited out of a whale sized Gargermin while we’re on the road. Not the first time. But because you tasted sooo rad, it got angry and attacked us, draining our party of energy and battle prowess. They rest now, but oh, when they wake up, oh will they have a reckoning with you.” He went on to detail theatrically while still holding the vest.

“Uhh, rad? And I came out of a what?!” I was becoming more lost in the scene with every sentence.

“But me, I want you to survive. You see,” the man came closer.

“Why? Because of this garment you had on, it has foreign lettering. Lettering only readable by the Lords and Noblemen. I've only ever heard them read this script before; these three common words.” The bronze man then pulled the flap of the vest near the neck to reveal the washing tag.

“...ma-de in C-chin-a…!”

Oh Dear God.

“Oh dear God.” I prayed in terror.

The hearty smile of the man returned to his face. I now recognize it as a smile of sheer fantasy, and of the utmost dangerous kind.

“You’d better be worth something, kid…!” He exclaimed snarkily.