Wakanai Am I Doing?

The disjointed sounds of the inhuman language the bucket heads use is immediately familiar. However, this specifically sounds more like the snarling and biting version of the language I associate with the metal heads – rather than the more lackadaisical attitude I hear from the plastic heads as they go walking by with their trollies.

I listen closely and I can make out the two distinct voices of Hello Kitty, Big Guy. But I notice Tire Iron's snide tones seem to be missing. Then again maybe he didn't recover as fast as I did from my injuries. After all I tore up my leg. But Tire Iron had his fingers cut clean off.

The two voices I can hear are coming from the park. My stomach goes tight as I realise they are between me and my planned exit.

As tempting as it would be to turn and run the other way, I would be entering unknown territory. I'd have to plan a new route back to the shrine, and pray that my leg didn't give out before then, which is a little nerve racking with all the extra gear I have picked up.

I decide wandering aimlessly isn't really an option here. I need to get back to shrine – ideally before it gets dark too.

I find myself slowly edging towards the corner of the wall that separates the supermarket and the park. It feels like the millionth time today that I will have to spy on someone from around the corner. But as always, I just don't have enough information to figure out the best move.

With my back pressed up against the cold, green wall; I lean out as carefully as I dare and – to my surprise – I don't just see Hello Kitty and Big Guy. Tire Iron is with them, even if he seems to have one foot in the grave. The two healthy metal heads are striding forwards. Meanwhile, I see that there is a rope of frayed plastic string around Tire Irons neck. The rope extends out to Big Guys clenched fist and he is yanking it regularly to drag Tire Iron's staggering frame forwards.

'What the hell...' I mutter under my breath.

It soon becomes very apparent that something has changed in their group's dynamic. Tire Iron has somehow gone from part of their grew to their latest victim. But then why would they drag him all way out here.

I watch asBig Guy tightens his grip on Tire Iron's leash, then aggressively yanks him forward. Meanwhile Hello Kitty jeers and antagonizing him. She has his tire iron in her hands and keeps sharply thrusting the end of it into his ribs and sides. This causes Tire Iron to spasm and whimper weakly.

Now that they are closer I can see that Tire Iron is in a far worse state than I had first assumed. His skin is white and grey like ash, and his metallic head hangs low – dropping more and more with every step. I can also see that his hands are bound together with a red cable tie. The severed finger stumps on his right hand still bare and weeping blood that drips into the sand.

I know that all three of them had tried to kill me. Tire Iron arguably more than the others too. But I can't help but feel my blood run cold at this sight. It reminds me of when I had first cut those fingers off. With Tire Irons boyish size and features, it is hard to rationalise why anyone that young deserves to be the victim of a cruel and morbid torcher.

'Saaayo,' grunts Big Guy. Then he abruptly stops moving in the middle of the park. For a moment my heart races with panic as I wonder if they have somehow spotted me.

Before I get the chance to worry to much, Hello Kitty swings the tire iron over her head in a wide arc. She then smashes it into their captives left shin. There is a meaty crunch of bone and I watch on with gritted teeth as Tire Iron shrieks with an ear splitting cry and topples to the ground.

Big Guy grunts irritably at this. He swings his sasumata at her and growls. Hello Kitty shrinks back – obviously threatened. She crouches into a ball as he starts to berate her verbally – covering her head with her arms.

'Gurr-zat!' Big Guy snaps as he vaguely gestures in the direction of the supermarket. He then points on his bucket roughly where his ears should be and I realise that his issue isn't with the abuse, it's with the sound. He's worried that the plastic head kids can hear the screams.

I then continue to watch on as Big Guy snarls out one final sneer and kicks sand into Hello Kitty's bucket. Then Big Guy swings around and starts to storm off, back the way they came.

Hello Kitty remains in her curled up ball position for about another 30 seconds. Then she slowly unfurls until she is standing upright. Her head hanging low and her limbs looking incredibly weak. It is only in that moment I notice how many bruises cover her skin. All I can see are her arms. But there had to be at least a dozen between them.

She properly reminds me of a little girl in that moment – lost and confused, tired and hungry. She looks like she has come from a home that never had lover for her and has finally decided to run away to try and make a life of her own. But rather than freedom and acceptance. All she got was a bigger bully.

I then watch as she gets to her feet, and dusts herself off. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she proceeds to kicks Tire Iron in the ribs about a dozen time. She then tosses his tire iron at him and it clanks of his metal bucket. Hello Kitty then grabs her gut as she starts to cackle a great belly laugh, before she sprints off after Big Guy. I find my stomach going sickly at how people turn from victim to monster here.

As the two metal head kids vanish from the other side of the park I start to walk in behind them. In about two dozen steps I find myself standing next to the helpless Tire Iron. He's bloody, beaten, whimpering and pathetic. Even though I am standing right beside him, I still don't think he is aware that I am there. His sharp breaths and shivering body seem feverish and possibly delusional as he mutters and writhes about.

I chew my tongue. I am torn between my choices. I mean I could just walk on, couldn't I? I would be all but leaving him do die here. But it's not like I owe him. If anything it would mean that there is one less thing that tried to kill me in this place which can pretty easily be seen as a positive, right?

However, something tells me if I did that I wouldn't be sleeping well tonight – or any others for that matter. So what do I do? I could just cut his bindings and be on my way. But I doubt he will be walking anywhere any time soon – or ever again unless someone stops that bleeding from his fingerless hands.

I hear him mumble something even more unintelligible than usual. He then lilts his head to the side. There is a birthmark – or maybe a tattoo on his neck. It is in the shape of a heart and it triggers something in me. Not quite a memory, but something similar. I reconise it, but from where? Is it from a student? A brother? I'm not sure. All I know is that in that moment I realise exactly what I am going to do. I'm going to help him. I take Tire Iron's weapon and manage to somehow slide it into the straps on the side of my backpack. Then I slip out my hatchet, cut Tire Irons bonds, and hoist him to his feet.

It is awkward to balance properly due to our significant height difference. But I manage to drape one of his lanky arms over my shoulder and help brace him in a standing position. I take a few test steps to test out or movement and it isn't too bad.

'Okay,' I grunt as I realise he much lighter than he looks. 'Let's get you out of here.'

It occurs to me that I just saw the metal head kids leave down the far end of the park. Since avoiding them was the primary reason I was planning on taking the detour on the backroad I realise it is probably safer to take the main road.

I pivot Tire Iron and myself around to face the other park entrance – the on that the supermarket entrance is on. However, instead of moving to the exit, find myself frozen stiff. I can now see – standing right in front of me – is Yellow Head and his Flesh Cicada. They are both staring directly at us...

'Okay...' I say, finally finding my voice. Is it possible I can outrun them? I wonder. Cicadas are deadly fast when small. Would being bigger effect that? In what way? Faster or slower? God I wish I paid more attention in high-school science! Thoughts race through my mind as we stare at each other. But no one seems to move.

When it becomes obvious that Yellow Head isn't going to make the first move I decide I will.

'Listen, we don't want any trouble. So if it is all the same to you we'll just be on our wa—'

'Krrr-zt-taaa!' barks Yellow Head as he appears to glare at me and thrust out an accusing finger at Tire Iron.

'Woah! Easy now! I don't understand you!' I say, shrugging in a attempt to prove my confusion. 'Ah... Wakanai?' I say, as though using Japanese will somehow help.

'Chuu za wakanai?' he growls back, his aggression seemingly pulled back ever so slightly.

I was stunned. It sounded guttural and almost fake. But I swear Yellow Head has just spoken Japanese.

'Yeah! Yeah! Wakanai! I can't understand you!' I say, pushing for the chance to make myself understood.

Yellow Head seems to consider this for a moment. His flesh cicada bucking and kicking next to him in anticipation. Finally Yellow Head points to Tire Iron with an accusing finger. 'Krrr-zt-taaa,' he snarls.

I glance at the mass I have propped up in my arms. Tire Iron is barely conscious. He probably has no idea what is happening.

'Krrr-zt-taaa?' I repeat pointing at Tire Iron. 'Is that his name? Wait... English doesn't work... Crap. Ummmm, namae desuka?'

Yellow Head shakes his head and groans. Meanwhile his flesh cicada is clearly growing inpatient. It is watching me with all eight of its hungry eyes while it snaps mandibles made of sickly yellow bone in my direction.

Yellow head seems to practice the sounds of Japanese on his tongue for a while before settling on the word 'Kazoku.'

I'm familiar with that word. But I don't totally understand its meaning. I believe it means something like family, but then it is often used in regards to clans or other organized groups. In this case I assume he means the name for all the metal heads is Krrr-zt-taaa. 'Okay...' I say nodding my head with understanding.

'Krrr-zt-taaa', announces Yellow head in a fiery authorial voice. He then brings his thumb up to his neck and runs it across his throat. Apparently a recognizable sign for murderous intent even in a place like Wandarando.

'I... umm... I...' I find myself looking for words but not sure what to say in the circumstances. My heart is racing and my mouth is dry. It is becoming very obvious what Yellow Head is saying. He isn't worried about letting me leave. But he wants Tire Iron – specifically with the intention of killing him. Which both is and isn't understandable. I mean Tire Iron has killed the plastic bucket heads, I've seen it with my own eyes. But that only seem to be in an attempt to appease the Grasping Hands God. Now that they have cast him out, he would have no reason for senseless violence, right?

I don't think of myself as some hero. I'm not going to try and clean up this town and bring peace and love to all the people of Wandarando like the protagonist of some trashy isekai manga. However, last time I hesitated to act that plastic bucket head was killed – painfully too. They may not be human – at least I still don't think they are. But they are sophisticated enough to have concepts like language, social structures and even religion. I don't think I can let myself just leave one of them to die for no other reason than spite.

I fix my eyes on Yellow Head and do my best to look tough – I am still a lot bigger than he is after all. 'Nai,' I say sternly – hoping that I'm not about to make a terrible mistake.

'Nnnnnnga! Karaga!' Yellow Head snaps – clearly understanding me. He thrusts out an accusing finger and apparently that is all the permission his little pet needs.

'Creekt!' shrieks the flesh-cicada, arcing its head in the air like a wolf howling at the moon.

'Oh shit!' I spit out, turning to run. But even before I have turned around the flesh-cicada is barrelling towards us. Its hand-like feet beat relentlessly against the ground, making a scuffled pattering sound.

I start to drag Tire Iron in the opposite direction. Thankfully the flesh-cicada isn't all that fast. But between the extra weight of my supplies, my injured leg and dragging Tire Iron's near unconscious frame, my top speed is little more than a brisk jog.

'Zatakaka!' I hear Yellow Head roar with laughter behind us. It was quickly drowned out by the shrill, 'creekt, creekt, creekt!' of the flesh-cicada as it beat its leathery wings with excitement.

We manage to make it out of the park. And we step onto the road of the back street. The houses here are all a mismatch of colours and shapes. Some of the structures are pressed right up to the road. Others feature large lawns with multiple cars parked on the grass. I may have escaped the park, but that doesn't really mean shit right now. I mean where am I going to go? It will catch us before we make it to the shrine, and the only thing down this way is housing – not to mention the metal heads left down this road too. Whose to say they aren't lying in wait just down the road?

That is when an idea hits me. It's not a great plan. It's certainly not a smart one either. But neither was smashing my face into a pane of glass. All I can say is, when your desperate, sometimes you just have to take whatever you've got.

'Hey!' I call out to the what looks like an empty street. 'He assholes! Where the fuck are you!' I continue. The street remains lifeless. 'Shit!' I seethe – as I glance behind me and see how close our pursuers are. 'shit, shit, shit!' I exclaim as I continue to hobble onward. The throbbing in my injured leg growing more and more with every stride.

Then, from a couple of hundred meters ahead, I see a pair of figures drop out of a tree in the front lawn of one of the houses. It's the two other metal heads – just like I had hopped.

They are standing side-by-side. Both are armed. Big Guy with his sasumata, the Hello Kitty appearing to have some kind of machete or long curved knife in her hands. They have both clearly seen myself and Tire Iron. But what I am banking on is that they haven't seen out tag-alongs.

I appear to be in luck to as I spot Hello Kitty lean to one side and look past us. Suddenly she straightens upright and starts to gesture wildly. Big Guy Ignores her at first. But then tilts to one side and spits out what sounds like no end of obscenities. He hefts his sasumata and appears to enter some kind of kendo fighting stance.

My plan is working. All I need now is to get both sides distracted with the greater threat – each other. Then all we need to do is slip away while no one is looking.

As we get to within about 50 meters of the metal heads, I pivot and run to the side. This lets both the metal heads, along with Yellow Head and his little pet come face to face. My heart is racing with panic and adrenaline. My leg feels like it is about to explode. But I can't let anything stop me now.

I don't even let myself pause to see how the two groups first react to each other as I reach the wooden fence line of one of the nearby houses. I quickly prop Tire Iron up against it. Then I pull of my backpack and thrust it into his arms. He appears to be all but delirious as he mumbles something meaningless. But his grip on my bag holds, so I whirl around to face the show down, pulling out my hatchet.

I see that Yellow Head has his hand on his cicada, holding it back as it furiously snaps and snarls at the metal heads. Meanwhile Hello Kitty is standing just behind Big Guy, her nervousness plain as day. Big Guy, however, is standing with square shoulders and a lot more confidence than I'd have facing the flesh-cicada.

This three-way stand off leaves us all with one tense question. What the actual hell happens next?