Beginning of Everything

Breaking of the heart, and then sewing it back together. Fracturing of the heart, and then stapling it back together. The cycle that continues inside Oujiro's heart is just what it feels like to grieve for your dad who you don't even know if he's alive. He had decided to stay inside his dorm, not leaving, not even twisting the doorknob one bit except for emergencies like purchasing food or the dorm's landlord calling on him. The smell of the room after ten days of isolation is something you would expect from a rotten prison cell. The air is stagnant and stale with the cold air conditioner wind blowing towards him every few seconds. Cups of instant noodles sit on the wooden table. Water vapors dripped down the cups one by one until the wooden table splintered. He prays all the time that the dorm landlord doesn’t check up on him; nobody deserves to see a room that is this rotten, anybody would have been disgusted. He locks his door, so when the landlord comes, he would try to stand up, which hurts from his legs already going numb, and talk with the landlord, Ayuri Shioya, a young woman, outside.

Notifications pops on his phone every hour from Subaru. It’s clear Subaru is going to be worried for Oujiro’s health, both physically and mentally. And message would scare Oujiro, maybe it could be Mahiro, maybe it’s an employee at Neptune Lines. Today, Subaru typed, “Dude, what family emergency is this that you have to not come to college for 10 days?"

That was and is the excuse Oujiro used to fake not coming to school. He is utterly, completely alone. His dad's status is unconfirmed, and his mom is in the USA for business as the secretary to a company's owner. Much information about the company is "classified", therefore, his mother did not tell a lot about the company.

And then, a message popped up from Subaru: "Wait, your family name is Yagi? Isn't that one cruise ship engineer also have the same family name?"

Oujiro, trying to control his mind from the panic surge, made up a fake family name on the spot and typed: "Nah, what? My family name is Kado. You misremembering I swear to god lol"

Subaru: "But I remember it being Yagi."

Oujiro: "No way. Kado means 'angle', so I’m blessed with the power to measure angles easily since birth!”

Subaru: “You’re just joking at this point lol, maybe it’s Mandela Effect after all."

It was a rough journey so far. These ten days have been excruciating and he means it. The pain from not knowing if his father is dead or not raises the stakes, it’s as if his heart is about to burst out of his ribcage. On the first three days, it was obvious that only shock was in his body, to the point it could even overflow. On the fourth day, his father's body is confirmed to not be recovered as part of the devastating news. On days 5 to 7, funerals for the victims started. On day 8, internal leaks from Neptune Lines showed flaws from the S.S. Akikaze's design, while on day 9, Neptune Lines released an official statement about the tragic sinking of the cruise ship and suggested flaws in the design of the ship. The ship is designed by a team of engineers at Neptune Lines which contains 21 people.

The two senior engineers of the team include Youji Koide and Kouma Akutsu. The lead of the engineer is "Mahiro Yagi".

And then, scrolling below.. "Of course, the man at the center of the blame for the Akikaze tragedy left behind a son". There is a picture in the column below the information about Mahiro. It was a grainy, old photo of Oujiro back in 10th grade, a photo that Mahiro must have kept at his office, flashing on the screen.

"...Oujiro Yagi." The world stopped around him. In his mind, around the floor he's standing in his dorm room, it's collapsing, tile by tile—the wood creaks, it splinters, and then falls apart into an infinite sinkhole that leads to the core of the earth. It wasn't until he woke up from the panic that had built up inside that became the imaginative scene Oujiro saw earlier.

Back at the tenth day, on April 14th, the spring wind still blows onto the streets of Fukuyama with a strong breeze, enough to cover all the heat from the sun away. Leaves fly across the wind. Whether it's brown, red, pink, or any color it could be. Some streets are covered with leaves from the trees next to them. Surely the wind is that strong. As Oujiro stared endlessly at the window, watching as leaves flew past his window, or got attached to the clean, transparent windows—but attention changed to another spot, particularly on the TV screen. The news blasted out, with the news reporter still mumbling things about the Akikaze tragedy. Oujiro did not want to listen to it, it reminds him of his father. He was smiling all the time working with the cruise ship. When Oujiro spotted flaws that Mahiro made, Mahiro would always thank him and change the blueprint right away. He was full of joy, as if this ship were his life, his job, his everything.

He stared endlessly and blanklessly at the window of the dorm room as leaves passed by the window or got attached to the transparent and clean glass. But his attention was caught elsewhere when the bright tone of the Fukuyama News TV started. The news reporter, a woman, voice sharp and clear, started mumbling on about the Akikaze tragedy again. Again. And then, something—something actually serious—caught Oujiro’s attention.

“Neptune Lines has released a further statement. One spokesperson from the company said, quote ‘The flaw wasn’t the esteemed Mahiro Yagi’s fault! It was his rogue, radical son, Oujiro, who tampered with his father’s designs! He inserted a fatal error, and his father, the heroic engineer, tragically went down with the ship he loved, trying to save it from his own son’s sabotage.’”

Oujiro whispered to himself, slowly, and gradually, “What.. could you possibly mean by that?”

"Neptune Lines, cooperating along with the police, has teamed up and declared an announcement. It goes as follows, 'Anyone who has a lead or a major tip on where Oujiro possibly could be will win the 25,000 Yen bounty on Oujiro. His name is Oujiro Yagi. He might go to another city after this news, but we don't know yet where he will go. That's why we needed your cooperation.'"

Oujiro's jaw dropped, he felt every emotions and feelings he has ever felt since this entire journey all at once. Grief, sadness, depression, shock, surprise, anxiety, dread, anything that you could imagine that is harrowing. Oujiro, struggling between the side of the brain that wants him to react recklessly, and the side of the brain that tries to make him as calm as possible, picked up his phone and sent a single, terse and abrupt text to Subaru. Still the same—no explanation of the situation, as long as the lie continues, it still works, that’s Oujiro’s logic—”Family emergency. Don’t know when I’ll be back, don’t worry.” He then turns off his phone, no just turning it off, but powering it off, he removes the SIM card inside the phone. Half-shaking, half-calm, he nearly dropped the SIM card numerous times, it could slide to the under of the bed, or the under of the desk which would be time-consuming to find. And then he places the SIM card on the floor, and then crushes it. The digital tether to his old life is now severed, he has to do it. He will not let himself be caught for something he never did. He had to find the truth alone.

This is where the new beginning to his life will begin. A life that will be completely in isolation, a life where he is forced to become a fugitive, a life where he had to fight 124 million people of Japan, a life where he had to uncover the truth about the sinking. A new life that he never wanted. All he wanted is to become a good engineer like his dad. His mom is the only choice, but he had no time to contact her now. He searches everywhere in the drawers of the table desk drenched in instant noodles cups. The splintering of the table makes it harder to search. The drawers are stiff, some are splintered, touching it feels weird, it’s not the kind of thing he likes to touch. Oujiro has a phobia of germs, he had managed to realise that in 6th grade. So it’s pathetic for him to go anywhere disgusting and look away out of disgust.

He finds a pack of disposable masks, and a baseball cap. “Perfect”, he said. He wears it—the things he had prepared, a disposable mask and a pulled-down baseball cap. He uninstall all apps that could contain information of him, and throws it into a subway train at the station. Any police that’s gonna track his phone will be completely misled to the subway train leading to elsewhere than where he’s going. And if the police suspects if he drops his phone accidentally there and thinks he went through that subway train, they’ll be misled either. As he approaches the actual train he’s supposed to go at, each step feels as heavy as having an anchor pulling his feet down to the floor. If anyone here recognizes him, all the plan he prepared for will all collapse down to this one single moment. The red and white train was striking enough to already scare him; no, anything at this point could frighten him. The Fukuyama station today is not as packed with people as it usually is. The train he’s sitting on is a JR Banetsu West Line. It’s a regional line, not a bullet train.

Perfect again it seems. There are fewer cameras, less scrutiny, and more locals. He will disappear into the mundane flow of everyday travel. He paid for the ticket in cash at a machine. No digital trail. He has a single, worn backpack. Inside is his laptop, a power bank, a change of clothes, his father’s crucial blueprints and notes, and whatever cash he could get his hands on.

As the train moves, he knows that it’s too late to go back now. His life as “Oujiro Yagi”, the bright college student, will go further away with every kilometer he travels. This is a journey to the unknown. He’s going to travel to the coast of Japan—Niigata, he doesn’t really know much about this city, so he’s travelling to the unknown. The train car is half-empty, it reeks of stale air and disinfectant, well only for Oujiro. The rhythm of the wheels on the tracks is a monotonous drone. Oujiro is a statue in his seat by the window, not even bothering to look at the beautiful and lovely scenery of the outside. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jacket, clenched in furious fists that demands revenge.

The scenery outside is beautiful, that is a fact, but he refuses to look at it. It’s stunning—the inland mountains of Fukushina giving ways to the rice fields and snow country of Niigata. He stares without seeing, his mind a whirlwind of code, blueprints, and the echoing news anchor’s voice: “…Oujiro Yagi.”

Every time the train slows for a station, his heart hammers. Every time the conductor walks through the car, he holds his breath, pretending to be asleep. He is hyper-aware of every person who boards, analyzing them for a threat. Is that businessman looking at him? Is that old woman just reading her paper, or is she watching him? The hyper-analyzing is agonizing him, but it’s what it feels like to be falsely accused and running away. He doesn’t know why he chose Niigata. He doesn’t have a specific goal. His goal is just to run away. Run away from the police, run away from everyone and everything, start a new life. It’s a major port city, maybe Oujiro might find a retired shipyard worker who might have worked on the Akikaze’s components. It’s far from the corporate heart of Tokyo. Neptune Lines will b looking for him in Fukushima, in Tokyo, or that phone he threw away on the subway train that he did not know where it led to. They won’t expect him to flee to a regional city on the other side of the mountains.

For his new identity, he chose: “Riki Maehara”. Tiki meaning “power”, “strength”, or “force”. A deliberate choice it seems, it’s a statement of intent. He’s no longer a grieving son; he is hardening himself into a force to be reckoned with. It’s a name for someone who intends to fight back. Maehara meaning “original field” or “in front of the plain”. It’s utterly unremarkable, common, and forgettable. It’s the perfect camouflage that lacks the engineering connotation of “Kado”, making him even more anonymous.

The train passed through numerous stations until it hissed to a stop for the final time, its doors sliding open with a sigh of compressed air. A figure emerged, shrouded in the anonymous disk of the evening—hood drawn low, a single worn backpack slung over one shoulder. This was Riki Maehara.

The air here is different. Salty, sharp, carried on a wind that swept in from the Sea of Japan. It wasn’t the gentle, cherry-blossom laden breeze of Fukushima. This wind felt like a blade—clean, cold, meant to cut away weakness. Riki didn’t look up. He never did. His eyes were down, his pace was steady, he had to keep it like that, and moved through the Niigata Station as if he’s a ghost in a dream. His baseball cap pulled just low enough to cast his eyes into shadow. He was a sketch of a person—all sharp, avoidant angles where Oujiro used to soft curves and open wonder. Voices echoed under the vaulted veiling of Niigata Station. Announcements for local lines, the murmur of commuters, and laughter from a group of students around a convenience store stand. He heard none of it. To him, every sound was a potential trigger. Every glance felt like scrutiny. His mind were always racing with questions.

“Were they looking? Did they know?”

He found a map near the exit, studying it without really seeing it. His mind was already elsewhere, calculating and assessing to try to find a place to stay. It had to be somewhere cash-only, no cameras, somewhere he could be no-one completely. Outside the city greeted him with a damp chill. Neon signs glowed along narrow streets, reflecting off wet pavement from an earlier rain. The lights felt invasive. He tugged his his hood further forward. He walked without destination, turning down side alleys where the glow of combini (convenience store) signs felt less accusing. His sneakers made no sound other than stepping on a puddle of rainwater. Isn’t this it? No Oujiro, no Subaru, no dorm, no past, no—

—a small smile came from his mouth. But also combined with the dread and loneliness. Will I be able to deal with this life?

But he ignored all those feelings and continued working towards a manga cafe. That’s his only place. For other things, he can use a cheap, pay-as-you-go phone purchased with cash. This is the new lifeline, for outgoing calls only, and a throwaway account under the new name for any risky digital communication.

Oujiro… no, Riki Maehara, sighed and finally breathed calmly, the one that lacked panic. The fight is on. The manhunt is on.

And Riki told himself.. “Goodbye, Oujiro Yagi.”

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