Warning: This story contains violence, blood, gore and inappropriate language.
A SECOND CHANCEINT. TOKYO-MORNING
(A fourteen year old boy is walking down the street, on his way to school. Headphones strapped over his head and a duffle bag at his side. He has long dark hair and a black eye. His headphones are playing Heavy Metal at the highest volume setting. He is looking down at the ground as he walks forward, not paying attention to the world around him. He doesn’t want to be a part of this world and has therefore escaped into his own fantasy. Earlier that morning he woke up for school, just like any other day.)
INT. THE BOY’S ROOM
(The boy sits up from his bed and shuts off his annoying alarm. He rubs his eyes and then walks out of his room and goes into the bathroom. He eventually finishes getting ready and leaves the bathroom, going to his room to get changed. His little brother, who is 7 years old walks into the bathroom, behind him, still half asleep.)
Little brother: Good morning, Yoshiro!
Yoshiro: Morning, Jiro.
(Yoshiro ruffles Jiro’s hair, as he walks by. Yoshiro walks into his room and gets dressed in his school uniform. He gathers up his text books and puts them into his duffle bag. He hears yelling, outside his room and hurries out to see what could be wrong. Much to his anger he sees his father yelling at his little brother, as usual. His father is holding, his brother’s report card.)
Father: Jiro, you need to get your grades up! You don’t have a single A and most of your grades are D’s and C’s!
Jiro: I’m trying, but I don’t understand it! You won’t help me!
Father: Don’t talk back, Jiro! This is your own fault! Don’t blame others for your shortcomings! Maybe, if you spent less time playing with those stupid dolls and more time studying, you would do better!
(Tears pour out of Jiro’s eyes.)
Father: Knock it off!
(Yoshiro grabs his dad’s shoulder and turns him around.)
Yoshiro: Dad, stop, he’s trying. Maybe, if you’d help him, once in a while…
Father: Was I talking to you, Yoshiro? This conversation had nothing to do with you.
Yoshiro: Dad, you’re making him cry! He’s only seven!
(Suddenly, Yoshiro falls to the ground, feeling the pain of his father’s fist against his eye.)
Father: Get up and get to school, now.
(Jiro tries to hold back his tears, as Yoshiro gets up and, angrily, walks past his father. You’d think he would’ve known better than to talk back to his father, as this was not the first time his father had hit him. But, he cares far too much for his brother and didn’t think about his well-being at the time. As he walks down stairs he sees many empty beer bottles, lying around to his dad’s favorite chair. Tears fill up the bottom of his eyes, but he rubs his eyes and exits his house. He pulls his CD player out of his duffle bag and puts on his headphones. He makes his way down the street, hoping that his brother doesn’t suffer the same punishment he had to endure. Suddenly, on the nearby bridge above him, a group of thugs begin a small gang war.)
Thug: I’ll teach you to mess with me, you son of a bitch!
(The thugs pull out guns and begin firing at one another. They run across the bridge and make their way down to the streets, Yoshiro is walking along. Yoshiro notices none of this, over his headphones. One of the thugs runs up behind Yoshiro, as another thug is chasing after him, firing at him. He quickly dives to the side and a stray bullet pierces the back of Yoshiro’s skull. The bullet passes through the other side and he falls forward, dying. The thugs continue on, as if nothing had happened. Just before blacking out Yoshiro pictures his brother, the one person he had to live for.)