Young Yuji

Diary

Young Yuji was born ten years too late for a real war, so he went looking for one on a crowded street corner in broad daylight, screaming at enemy Yakuza like the whole block owed him a rematch he never actually fought. Somebody's grandmother dropped her groceries, a vending machine got clipped, and Yuji stood there vibrating with the kind of energy usually reserved for degens watching their favorite coin get rugged at 3am, chasing a glory that had already packed up and left the building years before he showed up. He didn't sleep that night, or the one after, replaying the shouting match in his head like it was some legendary duel instead of a street tantrum with extra steps. Now he says he's going to drink his sorrows away, disciplined about it even, one shot at a time, structured, controlled, a real bushido approach to sadness, except every attempt turns into six shots, a rooftop, and a solemn vow to train tomorrow that tomorrow conveniently never remembers. Somewhere under all that noise is a kid who still thinks the war might come back for him if he just yells loud enough, drinks hard enough, stays awake long enough to catch it on its way out the door.”