The sun was unbearably bright, and the summer heat ensured my shirt was soaked through. If I had a couple of eggs, I could have cooked myself a meal using the sidewalk. Why am I running in such terrible heat?

Well, the short and not untrue answer is that I needed the exercise. Pasty skin was an occupational hazard. The just as short and more accurate answer is, I prefer to keep my blood inside of my body.

“Kento Murakami! Stop right there!”

“You piece of shit! You think you can get away after double crossing the boss?”

Whoops, they found me a lot faster than I was hoping. Taking a quick glance back, I could see four men in black suits and sunglasses chasing me down.

First off, how tacky do they have to be for all of them to be wearing the same outfit? Like this isn’t highschool or the Matrix, you can have a little more individuality! Not that I was much better, in my oppai t-shirt and heart covered boxers. More importantly, why am I the only one working up a sweat? They are barely glistening. Meanwhile I’m like a popsicle that had been thrown into the microwave.

“Kento Murakami? Never heard of him, you have the wrong guy! If you guys leave me alone, I promise not to press charges!”

Agent One who was clearly in charge pointed at me. “You lying dirtbag! You think you can shave your head and grow a beard, and we wouldn’t recognize you?”

“Damn, I knew this furry abomination was useless.” I peeled my fake beard and tossed it at Agent One. “You look like you could use a little more hair. Please accept my kind donation.”

Wow, I could totally see the bulging veins from the dude’s receding hairline. As amusing as it was, it also meant they were gaining on me. As I ran, I had to go around other pedestrians. Unlike me, those well dressed barbarians bowled through anyone in their way. Freaking try hards. Had to think of something quick or I was done for.

“Leave me alone! All I did was skim a bit from your boss’s sludge fund. He won’t miss it!”

“Not so loud! And you consider 1.2 billion yen skimming? Besides, the bigger problem is you know it exists. He will never let you go!”

You’re yelling louder than me!

I let out an exasperated sigh. At least I was creating a ruckus. More and more people were paying attention to the disturbance. They will have a harder time kidnapping me. I already saw a few teens whipping out their cellphones. Little tush nuggets were smiling and laughing. Probably hoping to go viral, and instead of actually trying to help. Well at least it was something to work with.

My current predicament made me think back to what caused all this. You know what? Leaving a calling card was a tad over the top. Sure it was a great way to boost my reputation and a massive stroke to my ego, but using it was playing russian roulette. I guess I wasn’t particularly lucky that night.

I mean how was I supposed to know my mark’s wife suspected him of cheating with his secretary and secretly installed a recorder in his office?

Red lights flashed in front of me and a gate was lowered to be perpendicular with the ground, blocking the railway crossing. How lucky can I be? An oncoming train in front of me, and a gang of Mr. Smiths that will drag me off so I can sleep with the fishies. These are the life choices that made one wonder if they were on the right path. If I could redo it all, maybe I should have been a salaryman.

Naw.

With a grin, I jumped over the gate. I could practically feel the shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Time slowed as the onlookers gasped and my pursuers cursed. This was a real thrill, up to the point my backfoot clipped the gate. Making me stumble to my knees. The sound of the approaching train drowning out the screams.

Oops.

Have you ever had moments where you know you’ve forgotten something? Regardless if it is something as mundane as checking to see you still have your keys in your pocket, or walking into class and have that nagging feeling that maybe that really important test was today and not tomorrow. I’m sure others have moments like that. Well for me, they aren’t moments. They are every second of every day.

To constantly feel like you have forgotten something is maddening. You can grow numb to pain and sadness, but how can you grow numb to something you can’t remember? It’s like an ever morphing idea in the back of your mind. Just when you think you have it pegged, the damn thing changes, and you are back to square one.

Even if I die, the witnesses and the future investigation should expose everything. My would-be killer should get dragged into it, and his perfect high class life will come tumbling down like a house of cards. While I didn’t really have any beef with the dude personally. He was a cut throat businessman that exploited his employees even by this country’s warped standards. Not to mention his underworld dealings. At least I’ll be going out with a bang.

So maybe this wasn’t so bad, it's like going to sleep. My fluttered shut, and I just let myself be in the moment. The abnormal fatigue and the encroaching cold from the pit of my gut made it easy to ignore the rumbling ground.

Who the heck am I kidding, dying was no joke. I opened my eyes at the oncoming train, and gifted the Men in Black with the last bird I’ll ever flip. They should be grateful.

Ah, Agent One. Try not to stress yourself out, it isn’t good for your hair. Well, I am about to end your whole career. Sorry.

“This suc -“

*****

“Sucks.”

What?

One second I was exploding like a sumo wrestler sitting on a water balloon, now I was in a white room the size of a soccer field. At the center was a white table and chair.

Oddly enough, they were fused to the ground. Or more accurately, they were grown from the ground. When I touched the table, it felt foreign. Whatever it was made of, it certainly wasn’t metal, plastic, or wood.

That was when the gravity of my recent experiences conveniently decided to hit me all at once. The rush from escaping my pursuers mixed with the fear of death to create a stomach turning cocktail of emotions that had me melting into the chair.

“Welcome back Fragment 108. I had originally feared the worst.”

“What the heck? Who was that?” I gasped. No matter where I looked, I was alone.

The voice was deep and held a sense of authority that made you want to instinctively listen. More importantly it was coming from all around me. It was akin to being in a theater when the bass shakes you to the very bone. In other words, I was moments away from pissing myself.

Now that I think about it, was this the afterlife? No way, the sterile environment gave off interrogation room vibes. Maybe this was where they judge your life to see if you are worthy. I might not be a theologian, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. A tad bit too sci-fi. Then again what do I know when it comes to life after death? After all, me being dead was a hard truth. Perhaps if I was hit by a car I would have had a chance. But a train?

While I was wasting time trying to logic the heck out of the illogical, the mysterious voice continued.

“It would seem you have suffered from the same damage as the others. I was hoping to avoid recycling another one.” the voice said with a heavy sigh.

Not a sigh of resignation. It was more along the lines of annoyance. It sort of reminded me of the time I spent trying to date this girl back in high school. I had done a lot to show my feelings to her, but when I mustered the confidence to confess, she rejected me with that same sigh. No, it was worse than mere rejection. She said something along the lines of: “I love your best friend, please support me.” I’m not saying she had to return my feelings, but come on! Okay got to put that memory back in its box.

Hold on, wait a second. What did they mean by ‘recycle’? It would kind of suck to be thrown into the spiritual equivalent of a composter. All while wallowing in a pool of self pity over my failed love life.

“Hi! Sorry, I just never talked to a higher being before. Are you some sort of god?”

The voice let out a laughter that cracked like thunder.

“While I may be powerful and long lived, I’m no deity. A friendly word of caution though, if you suspect to be talking to a deity, they are petty beings. Those pompous pricks expect everyone to grovel on their hands and knees.”

“Oh, I see.” In more ways than one. Talking about gods seemed to be a sore subject. Then again, the mysterious voice practically confirmed their existence. “Forgive me for my ignorance, but do you know me? You called me ‘Fragment 108’ earlier.”

A white light burst from across the table. Blinded, I had to blink my eyes like crazy to regain my sight. For a second I was afraid I’d go permanently blind.

When I finally was able to see again, a man in white wizard robes sat on a pure white throne that thrummed with power. The man was easily over seven feet tall with long white hair tied into a ponytail. White stubble covered his face, giving his features a rugged look. As for his eyes, they were softly glowing white. More surprising, the white wizard rip off looked a bit like me. It wasn’t much, but just enough for someone to believe we were closely related. Probably a distant cousin, despite the hair, the man looked to be in his prime.

This guy sure likes white. It’s kind of tacky to be honest.

“No need to ask for forgiveness for asking a question. I suppose for you, this is our first encounter. For you at least.”

“Alright,” I said, unsure of what he meant. Letting my voice draw, hoping to get some answers.

I wasn’t left disappointed. In a way…

A white ball popped into existence and scanned me before making a random beeping pattern. Disappearing soon after giving the ‘not a deity’ man a nod.

“Well It seems you are still operating at minimum viability. This is good. I’ll be sure to include an information packet with your next deployment.”

With a wave of his hands, the man in white summoned a translucent keyboard that was once again in white. He typed furiously, to the point where his hands were a blur.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I could telepathically do all this, but I just love the clacking of a physical keyboard. Blast, even the recordings are corrupted.”

My patience was starting to fray, to the point of snapping. Still, cooler heads prevailed. Slighting some super powerful entity was probably a good way to end up deader then I already was.

So, I asked as calmly as I could. “How should I address you?”

The mysterious entity smiled. You may call me Mr. White. Now, I have your next mission all planned out. You do some minor soul damage, but you should still be able to use your soul linked arsenal. If you manage to reach either sufficient strength or influence, your help is authorized to provide mission details. If not, consider this a vacation to get a hang of everything again. I should really recycle you, but I’m short handed as it is. Good luck Fragment 108. May your efforts help complete the grand work!”

And with that Mr. White pushed one last button, and I was dragged violently from the white room. My vision blurred and I felt like I was falling at increasing speed. Doing my best to turn around, I could see a light at the end of my drop. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was sealed shut. All the way until I reached the other side.