It's Not Always Fair [ Shi ]

For a brief period, maybe a week or two, Tetsujin hadn't bothered to step foot in Shibuya. Just a safety concern and a reasonable one at that. He wasn't even sure what happened on that day, both lacking the information and capacity to understand the situation. It was actually something he'd been thinking about on those coming weeks, in between his normal routine of absolutely wasting his life. It was just too bizarre and he knew he had been sober during that whole day. It couldn't have just been some heatstroke vision, because something definitely hit him.

From everything he'd heard about Shibuya, that must've been something rather rare. The only way to find out about circumstances like these is to go straight to the source, ain't it? That was the young man's thought process on the matter of whether he'd ever figure it out or not. It didn't really bounce past his head very often, but it seemed to be the most prevalent day-to-day thought. Just something he couldn't quite shake, unlike the present boredom of wondering what they're serving in the cafeteria.

The Shinkansen had dropped him off and the athlete in him wasted no time pushing his ass through most of the city. He kinda has no clue where he was going for a decent amount of time and just went off of general direction. It was leading him closer, but it seemed to be leading him through the back streets this time. The infrastructure and layout did tend to confuse him, to be quite honest with you. It wasn't like he would consult a map, not because he's stubborn, but just not something his brain presented to him as an option.

It bothered him none, having the expertise of venturing through his neighborhood of Shinsekai and their generally shady apartment 'outcropping'. Alleyways and dumpsters always felt familiar to him, whether or not he was in his home territory or not. Even if it weren't, it was smarter to walk with your head looking straight forward. Less people bother you when you're driven to getting where you're going. Keeping his head up also helped him see those who were inviting him to bother them. That leads us to the scene we have now.

Tetsujin had just made a quick dash through several of the intersecting streets, holding what seems to be a schoolbag. Seems he went ahead and struck some student that may have been making their way home. The only thing this delinquent knew was that it was an easy grab to get his bag off his shoulder once he knocked him one. Somebody might consider this to be cold and calculated, but a better word to use is rehearsed. Sure, the legs don't exactly know where they're going, but the point was to get as far away as humanely possible. Very few had the possibility of keeping up once the young man broke out into a full sprint.

He decided to take a quick stop by some dumpsters, hiding just a bit out of a normal line of sight unless someone had the intuition to continue approaching that dumpster. Not like it mattered to him, he hadn't passed a large number of people in his quick getaway. Tetsujin certainly seized his opportunity, but whether or not it could pay off for him was another question. Stealing bags was a hit or miss. . . no pun intended.

The delinquent squatted right by the foul odors polluting the airspace, walled off by what seemed like either storage garages or some kind of illegal residency. Shibuya was definitely still foreign to him, but this felt oddly fitting in ways he couldn't care to describe at the moment. His focus was on opening up that bag and dumping its contents, hoping for something like money, or a phone, or anything worthwhile. Maybe even some food, that would also be an acceptable gain for him at the moment.

Instead, what flew out were papers that hadn't been currency, folders, and a. . . calculator? Seemed like a spectacularly bulky one, especially with those grips on the side of them. It was honestly starting to catch his eye, reaching over for it and beginning to inspect it a bit closer. Maybe it was worth a lot of money, although he wasn't sure what pawn shops were willing to take off his hands here. On second thought, the more he passed the device through his hands and rotated it, it couldn't be a calculator.

Hell's this device, why was the screen blank and why did it have two buttons? This wasn't the end of his questions, either, continuing to be perplexed further and further by this object. There's no way to denote its origin and it didn't have any kind of branding nor model number. Every time he pressed the buttons, nothing happened. No noises, the LCD didn't light up, nothing had happened whatsoever. Instead of leaving it there on the floor with the rest of the bags contents, he just kept fiddling with it. 

Shi