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You see a short kid around your age.
He’s weird-looking.
Has a bit of an accent, clearly not from here.
Not a bad thing, but noticeable.
You look at him closer, he’s very clearly Asian.
He has white hair.
He has red eyes.
You wonder if you’re meeting a real-life anime character.
If you get close enough, you can see his eye is scarred.
He smiles at you. He has fangs.
You tell yourself it’s just some kind of cosmetic surgery.
You ask him what he’s doing here. He’s the guardian of a 6th grader.
You ask him where he got that coat.
You’re confused, because he seems to be your age.
Maybe he’s just short? You wonder.
He asks if you know what Beyblade is, perhaps. You do.
He says, “My name is Shu Kurenai.” Things start making sense
You remember watching the IBC. You remember Red Eye.
Then you remember. Oh no. Red Eye is a terrorist, isn’t he?
You can see in Shu’s eyes that he knows you know.
He knows.
He knows you’re a Blader.
He knows you know who he is.
He knows you remember the blood on his hands.
You’re socially trapped in a conversation with a known terrorist. One that can kill your Bey.
One that can kill you.
Will running just make him hunt you down?
He said he was the guardian of a 6th grader. Who?
He makes more money in a week than your parents have made in their entire lives. He’s immune to the law.
You have a little brother in 6th grade.
Is your brother okay?
This is suddenly the most important question of your life.
You need to know.
You need to know who this terrorist is the guardian of.
Why is he here today? Can you call your brother?
You ask him, as casually as you can, who the name of his kid is.
He says Fubuki Sumiye.
You remember hearing about a Fubuki. From your brother.
You’re scared now.
You remember that Fubuki has been over to your house.
Why is he here?
You met this kid.
He knows where you live. Your mother contacted him.
He smiled at you.
He has been in your kitchen.
Was he watching you when you input the passcode to the alarm system?
Was he planning something this whole time?
You remember Fubuki saying that “Shu-san” should run the country. You wonder if that wasn’t actually a joke.
You can’t leave this conversation.
You wonder if the kid knows the plan.
You need to get to class, but you can’t hear the bell.
You need to know if your brother is safe.
Did it already ring? Did you miss it?
Is Shu here to case you out?
You can’t recall what time it should be.
Can you even say anything?
You’ve asked too much already. You know it.
Do you have some kind of duty to stay here, to figure out what Shu's plan is?
You think he’s suspicious of your intentions now.
You can’t leave. You can’t stay. You can’t look away from those eyes.
He is looking past you, at the spot where your Bey’s spirit hovers.
You feel like he’s sizing your Bey up for a kill. Maybe he’s planning on killing you next.
“Do you want to battle some time?” he asks in an even, almost happy tone.
Your Bey feels scared. It has never communicated with you before now.
He doesn’t really sound happy.
He doesn’t sound like anything.
You know that’s a bad thing.
You hadn’t really believed the stories.
That it was all possible.
He looks less human the more you look at him.
There is a demon staring at you.
This cannot possibly be a human child your age.
When was the last time you blinked?
You can’t remember.
This cannot possibly be a human child.
Your lips feel dry.
You realize you are going to die.
This…cannot possibly be a human.
Even if not today,
You will die.
This thing in front of you smiles.
You feel like he knows exactly when you will die. You feel like he’s looking forward to it.
Its fangs are sharp and wet, the inside of his mouth red.
Its tongue is too long and pointed.
Is this how a mouse feels, as a cat smiles in front of it? How a cat feels, when a fox growls at it?
You feel like prey.
You want to run. Your legs don’t move.
They don’t even twitch.
It’s coming closer. It’s coming closer.
It reaches out a hand.
If that can be called a hand.
You don’t know if it even counts as a hand. The thing in front of you is less human than even a primate.
Footsteps are behind you. Two pairs of them.
You can’t breathe.
You can’t take your eyes off this thing.
The thing in front of you has a human face. A human body. You wonder if the approachers will look nearly as friendly.
It will snap its jaws around your neck the moment you look away.
You can imagine monsters.
Gruesome things with tentacles and black scales.
It does not care for the laws of men. It only obeys the laws of animals. And the laws of animals have declared you prey.
This is what survival of the fittest means.
What it really means.
It means one thing ends, another absorbs it, continuing ever stronger.
This thing is going to devour you.
Its not-hand waves in a facsimile of human motion.
You will be swallowed up without a second thought.
It makes you want to gag.
It wouldn’t even regret it.
How human it looks—its disguise fooled you at first, but now that you have seen through it, you can see all the places where it fails.
How was it allowed in here? Can anyone see what you can?
The eyes are too big—
The nails too sharp—
Back too straight—
Gaze too focused and yet ever so distant—
It’s simply…too perfect to be true.
Something is pressing at the back of your throat.
You want to whimper or scream or beg for mercy or help.
Is it fear? Is it even real?
You’re not sure that you are real anymore.
This thing is realer than you could ever hope to be.
“Shu-san,” you hear from behind the thing, “please stop scaring the normal kids.”
You finally blink.
There is a normal boy in front of you. With white hair and red eyes.
There’s a child there. Fubuki.
Your brother.
He is smiling.
Is he real?
Your brother is smiling at Fubuki. The thing’s child. Is Fubuki like the thing?
Is that thing real? You’re not so sure anymore.
And yet you’re also so sure it is.
Your Bey is shaking.
You feel the urge to yank your brother out of that thing’s sight.
Out of its child’s sight.
Your hand twitches towards him.
It’s gaze—the boy’s gaze—its gaze flickers to you
Fubuki smiles at you. Oh, his disguise is so much better than the thing’s.
He seems open.
Happy.
He looks real. He looks human.
Is it a trick?
You don’t trust anything anymore.
You wonder if Fubuki is simply another victim of the thing. Like you’re going to be.
You’re going to die, you remember unbidden.
You wonder if you will still look human after it’s done with you.
Your Bey is still shaking.
You doubt you’ll look human.
Your Bey is looking at something you can’t. It’s screaming in your ears to back away.
Tomorrow is the New York district tournament.
Because whatever that is, your Bey shrieks, it isn’t human anymore.
You’re competing.
You hope that neither of these boys will be there
You remember that “Shu Kurenai” is the owner of the Raging Bulls. You know he’ll be there.
He’ll be watching, probably.
Waiting.
He’ll be watching you.
Maybe not this year.
Maybe not next year.
But one day.
One day, his patience will wane, and he will devour.
You and your Bey will not survive.
It’s looking at you.
This…thing, whatever it really is…it’s looking at you.
At you.
And your Bey.
It smiles again.
That’s not a smile.
It never has been a smile.
“I’ll see you around,” it says.
It…leaves. Just like that. Its child following along.
Your brother comes to stand by you.
He looks worried.
“You look faint,” he says.
You say that you’re fine. You ask if he’s okay.
Not a hair is out of place.
Is that good? You’re not sure.
Can any of this be considered good?
He looks perfect. Just the way he left.
You no longer trust perfection.
Perfection is too sharp.
An extra dimension you weren’t supposed to see.
You look for any marring. Any of the imperfections that made him your brother.
Can you find any?
You find them. You sigh in relief. This is your brother. This is Devin.
You want to cry, suddenly.
Then you are crying.
Adrenaline crashing from your system.
Your day goes on as usual. As usual as it can be, after encountering something uncanny.
You go to bed that night.
Years later, you hear about Lain Valhalla, the thing’s newest spawn.
You wonder how many more horrors the thing will birth.
You look in on your brother.
He’s watching the TV in awe.
You doubt that “human” came from real people.
You are doubtful of the thing’s child’s humanity.
You wonder how long that thing will take to find you.
You don’t know how to tell your brother.
You feel the weight of borrowed time hanging over your head.
Tick, tick, tick.
You really don’t know what to tell your brother.
What is there to say that wouldn’t make you sound crazy?
No.
You never worried that you were crazy, though.
You know what you saw that day. What your Bey saw.
You trust your bey more than yourself, these days.
You sleep with your partner on your bed now.
It is little protection.
But better than nothing.
Your partner is scared too.
It fears the thing just as much as you do.
The New York district tournament is tomorrow.
The thing’s newest spawn will be there.
You’re competing.
That thing will be there.
That thing and it’s children.
You hope, pray to every god you’ve ever heard of, that you will not come face-to-face with Lain Valhalla.
You wonder if you’ll still be human when night falls.
If you’ll still be alive?
Likely not.
You’re not sure which fate is worse.