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18 October 2006 @ 02:23 pm
Tokyo to NY and Back Again  
(Too excited to wait, obviously. I'm posting this because, even though it already happened, it'll give me practice with Hiro's mindset, and then any Tokyo OCs or Ando-kun or whoever else can jump in at the end. Edited for more accuracy.)

Hiro walked down the streets of Tokyo, hands shoved into his pockets as he ran over in his mind the events of the day. After his brief exasperation at Ando's inability to accept Hiro's abilities, the businessman decided to walk off on his own.

His best friend didn't believe him, nor did he understand. Hiro felt really hurt over it. He knew what he could do; he could bend time, and even just before during his brief distance teleportation into the women's bathroom of the bar they were just in (even though Ando suggested it and Hiro thought it would help to make him understand, but it apparently failed) he realized that he could bend space as well.

He was hoping that, despite the screams of the terrified women at seeing a man in their restroom, Ando would understand him.

"We are not special! We are Japanese!"

Sighing, Hiro climbed down the stairs, entering the subway where he became intermingled with the crowd heading home after a busy day of work. While he was aware of where he was, his mind distracted him: and somehow in the shuffle of tickets and exchanging yen and gentle pushing, he was on the subway, eyes towards the ground.

Maybe... maybe I'm not special... The idea, as simplistic as it was, was immensely crushing to him. It hurt. It really did. To think that his ability, which he thought was special.. wasn't appreciated by Ando.

What could make him special, then?

Hiro allowed his eyes to look around as the subway started moving. Posters were strewn up along the walls of the interior, proclaiming job opportunities, vacation spots, and... New York. Hiro leaned against one of the vertical hand bars as he intently looked the poster over. He never went to New York, although he heard that the city was glorious... even moreso than Tokyo, due to the immense types of people that existed there. Tokyo was mainly Japanese.. but New York was everyone, it's own world.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, trying to keep the image of the poster burned beneath his eyelids. Scrunching up his face in concentration, he focused on the buildings and the skyline that were in the poster. The people, the buildings...

There was an odd pull, a sudden feeling of weightlessness. And then.. cold. There was wind. There were voices, but suddenly they were incomprehensible. And.. it was cold. Not freezing, but brisk. Hiro slowly opened an eye, and then blinked both; glancing around with curiousity... and then... a wide grin formed upon his face.

He was no longer in the subway. In fact, he was no longer in Tokyo.

"Yatta!" He screamed with immense joy, tilting his head towards the sky and throwing open his arms. "Hallo New York!"

Forget what Ando said now! He would have to believe him after this!

Dropping his arms to his side and rather thankful for his jacket, Hiro began walking, following one crowd of people. He was so excited! What to do first? Maybe he could sample some New York cuisine! Or... comic shop! Americans had comics, right? Maybe more than they sold in Japan!

The smile did not fade once from Hiro's face, even when others looked at him. "Hallo! Go Yankees!" He would say, in passing, to everyone who met his gaze as he walked along. They didn't reply: but he didn't care. He was in New York! And it was beautiful!

As he walked down one of the blocks in Times Square, Hiro noticed a comic vendor. His glee only skyrocketed as he began to browse the collection, freezing momentarily on one that caught his eye.

On the cover, was a Japanese man. No, not just any Japanese man. It. Was. Him.

Confused, Hiro reached to the comic book and picked it up, staring at the cover: which was clearly him screaming out in the middle of New York. Just as he did a few minutes ago. "What is this?" He mumbled to himself in Japanese, flipping through the pages...

The man behind the counter yelled at him, startling Hiro into nearly dropping the comic book. In a momentary state of panic, Hiro assumed that the man must have thought he was stealing, so he reached into his pocket and placed one thousand yen onto the counter... before running off. "Otsuri iranai yo!" Keep the change! The man shouted at him again, but Hiro didn't even look back, almost too terrified to do so. There was more than enough for the comic book, so he wasn't stealing!

Once he felt like he was in the clear, he claimed a bench and skimmed through the comic, finding that some of the events depicted inside were of him in his office, or of him and his interactions with Ando. On the back cover there was an address: perhaps of the artist? There was a new mission for him now: food and other explorations would have to be experienced later.

He needed to find this Isaac, and find out how he knew so much about him.

It was relatively easy to find Isaac's apartment. People in New York were very nice! Although Hiro's English was beyond rusty, it didn't take too long to find the building and the correct room inside. Right as he approached the door, he knocked on it gently, tucking the comic away into his pocket.

"Mr. Izaku Menendez?" He spoke timidly. No answer. He knocked a little harder. "Mr. Izaku? Doko desu ka?" Are you here?

In response to his inquiry, the door swung open. A lump formed in his throat, but Hiro stepped inside anyway. "Izaku?" An icy feeling of doom gripped his heart as he stepped in, noticing the panels that were drawn. This was definately the right place, but they seemed to be... so recent. And yet nobody was around to have painted them..

The next events happened so suddenly.

There was blood on the floor. And a gun. Hiro nervously reached down and picked up the small pistol, glancing it over before following the trail off to the other room. Stepping inside, there was a body. Blood. And the body was missing... it's brain. The skull was ripped open, and on the floor. Oh, and blood.

"Kami-sama..." Oh god. Hiro froze, staring in horror at the scene. His horror at seeing such a vile scene was changed to total fear: men suddenly stormed into the room, leveling guns and shining lights at him, yelling at him in English.

Hiro's English skills were immensely disused. However, when he's panicking or upset and there are people screaming at him in English, he understood even less. They kept screaming, and Hiro just wanted to cry. He raised his hands, trying to show he wasn't going to shoot them, but then realized they were probably mad at him because he picked up the gun. Reacting, he dropped it, but that only seemed to make the men more angry.

Unable to handle all the emotional stimuli that hit him at once, Hiro collapsed to the ground, having passed out.

When he came to, he was in a building, some of those same angry officers speaking to him. They asked him more things, speaking loudly and smacking his sides and checking his pockets. After the dumbfounded staring that Hiro kept giving the officers, and after admitting that his English wasn't up to par with theirs, another man was brought in: and Hiro was rather relieved when he spoke in Japanese.

"You don't have a passport, no ID, no identification, or any American currency." Except for his fanclub card, which the one officer showed another and Hiro felt very proud over. The translator spoke. "How did you get here?"

"I teleported. Like Spock. I can also manipulate the space/time continuum." Not one to lie, Hiro stated the truth without even blinking, nodding his head in emphasis. The man stared at Hiro funny, and seemed to mention Spock to the other officers, who seemed to laugh. Hiro frowned lightly.. what was so funny? Hearing one of the officers mention Star Trek, Hiro raised one of his hands and parted the fingers in a V.

That seemed to amuse the officers further.

"Call my friend! He'll tell you! Ando Masahashi, I was just with him this afternoon!" Hiro pleaded, turning back to the Japanese translator and gave him the number. The man dialed out on the nearest phone, spoke briefly to someone on the other side, and then hung up.

"Nobody's seen you for five weeks." The man stated, seeming to grow increasingly annoyed with Hiro. The man's eyes widened behind his glasses. "N-No! Its..." Hiro looked at his watch, which clearly stated it was October 2nd. "October two!"

One of the other officers pulled out a paper, saying that it was November 8th. Hiro shook his head. "No! October! It's October!" Hiro was overwhelmed with everything that occured. The travel, the murder, the interrogation, and now.. he traveled through time, too?

The loud sound, a loud explosion almost, caused everyone's eyes, including Hiro's, to turn towards the window. Rising up from his seat, Hiro stared in horror as the city outside was engulfed by an immense light. Unable to look and not so eager to die, Hiro clenched his eyes shut and concentrated: October 2nd. Subway. Tokyo.

The explosion and the bright heat from the explosion faded, and when he reopened his eyes he was back on the subway, almost as if nothing happened. As Hiro managed to calm down and return his heart rate to an manageable speed, he pulled the comic book out and looked at it intently once more.

Wait until Ando saw this.