Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
This was... not the Seiko he remembered. Sure, it had been a few years since Hikaru had actually seen her, and with his nerves in the moment on campus he hadn't really taken the time to really process her visuals, but Seiko actually looked like an adult now. A professional adult. A professional adult that could kick his ass in a courtroom any day. That's because she IS an adult, you buffoon, his mind chided as she strolled over, Hikaru grateful in that moment that he'd mildly dressed up. Slacks and a nice button-down, though perhaps not as formal as that impressive little ensemble Seiko bore, were a pleasant residual of both his time on the force and his days living in the Takahashi household. Look good... especially if you're trying to get something from someone. [break][break] "Takahashi-san, good to see you." [break][break] The formality was a little jarring, though Hikaru wasn't one to be put off so easily. His grin brightened at the thanks, widening just a bit more in some pleased expression as the young woman slipped into the seat across from him. He sat down as well, order already decided, and watched her carefully as those pretty violets scanned the menu. [break][break] "Oh, not much, really," he replied as casually as he could, allowing himself, in these early moments at least, to quell that guilt-ridden voice in his head with some authentic catching up. As much as Hikaru tried to avoid most things having to do with his life on the force, the people he'd known were definitely the most difficult to move away from, to forget about. He righted his glasses just a tad as he continued observing her movements. "Odd jobs here and there, enjoying my time as a free man." A light, airy laugh escaped him. "It's not quite as exciting without the badge and gun, but life's been good. What about you?" and he gestured towards her, towards the makeup and outfit, the way she sat so prim and proper. Gods, she was so different than he remembered... "You're... what? Twenty-two, now? Twenty-three? Gods, it feels like just yesterday you were flitting around your dad's office, all big-eyed and bushy-tailed. What's the great Murakami Seiko been up to these past few years?"
This was a new low. Hikaru had worked with information brokers previously, had made dealings with a plethora of horrid, simple-minded, big-headed bastards with too much info and ego to be of any use to the right side of the law. [break][break] But Seiko was different. [break][break] Hikaru had known Seiko since she was a kid... sort of. He'd certainly known her father that long, his relationship with Seiko perhaps a bit more cursory for the majority of his years before leaving the force. Now, though, she was interning at her father's firm, going to law school... [break][break] And Hikaru was going to convince her to get him as much dirt as she could. [break][break "God, I sound like a fucking sleazebag," Hikaru groaned, slumping against the little two-seater he'd found in the back corner of Mimi's Cafe. [break][break] He'd orchestrated their little meeting, really, on a whim; snagging her class schedule and "just happening" to bump into her between her course-to-course commute. A quick hello, an invite to coffee to catch up, exchanged numbers, and Hikaru was in. A three-minute conversation and here he was, feeling like a piece of shit, meeting an innocent young girl for coffee, planning on manipulating her into committing crimes for him. [break][break] "Definitely a sleazebag..." he grumbled, tapping a little discordant rhythm against the table, golden gaze flitting over to the door until that familiar head of silvery hair came strolling in with the ringing of that bell. [break][break] "Seiko!" he called, standing, shooting her a wave and that patented smile, forgoing honorifics in some attempt at quickly building familiarity... and because he'd always been bad about using them; being raised by a German mother and holding a deep-seated rebellion towards his traditional Japanese grandmother had made him not the best at their usage.
"Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen [break] An dem blauen Himmelszelt?" [break][break] Hikaru sung the little German lullaby to himself as he walked through the streets of Shibuya, eyes scanning the buildings for the izakaya he'd been recommended. Apparently it was a great place for some after-hours drinks and after the day he'd had, Hikaru needed a stiff one. He'd made a few calls to a few friends, seeing if anyone wanted to meet up with him, but most had significant others or early mornings that were calling them back home. Only Jikai had responded in the positive, another freeman, one of Hikaru's favorites. [break][break] It wasn't long before he found the place. Himonoya, the sign read, simple and straightforward. Hikaru chuckled as he saw some youngin's getting kicked out before making his way in, continuing to hum his mother's lullaby and loosening the collar of his button-down as he went. As he made his way over to a seat at the bar, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos lining his left arm. He looked less like a former police officer at this point and more like some yakuza thug; ironic, considering the extracurricular activities he'd spent his time on that day. Hikaru chuckled at the thought before ordering his beer and some karaage. [break][break] Sipping on the drink, Hikaru turned to admire the place while he waited for his appetizer and his company. It definitely was his style--not too big, but definitely a popular spot with the locals. He grinned and raised his glass in hello at anyone who caught his eye, ending up in some heated chat with an older man also sitting at the bar, lost in some debate about the current economic boom, enjoying the way the old crank's face turned a vibrant scarlet as he raged on and on.
Cut myself into pieces easy to chew; Carve me up into someone you'd like to choose; 'Til I'm only pieces of you...
PERSONALITY [break][break] When Hikaru’s parents named him the term for “radiance,” they had no idea how prophetic it would be. Hikaru is, perhaps, the closest thing a human being can be to a golden retriever. He is optimistic, sometimes to a fault, and it’s extremely rare to see him without a smile. His reasoning for this, he explains, is that there aren’t enough days in a lifetime to waste frowning. He also likes to keep the upbeat visage to calm others. If he’s acting like nothing’s wrong, then those around him are less likely to be afraid or nervous. It’s one of the many ways Hikaru strives to help those around him, a selfless lifelong goal instilled by his mother at an early age, the moral compass that drove him to become an officer, and the thing that ultimately drove him to vigilante work. To protect and serve, that’s what Hikaru yearns to do, even if it’s in a far less-than-legal way than he used to do it. [break][break] Now, there are some that would assume this bubbly outer crust denotes a lacking level of maturity. In actuality, Hikaru prides himself on being rather socially adept, able to read a room and a person without too much trouble. Growing up in an extended family of backstabbing, bitter socialites will do that to a guy. It’ll also leave him with crippling internal anxiety about never being good enough, something Hikaru tries to keep tucked down deep in a lockbox of unwanted emotions. Again, if he’s acting like nothing’s wrong, then there’s nothing wrong, right? And so he tries to ignore those insecurities, putting on a sunshine smile and maybe going a bit overboard on the people-pleasing. He’s a giver, that’s for sure. [break][break] And beyond that, he’s not much of a taker… emotionally speaking. He doesn’t feel the need to have his good intentions rewarded or returned. In fact, he gets a bit flustered when someone shows him a large amount of thanks or tries to go the extra mile for him. He’s the one who gives, who sacrifices for others; it’s weird when those others try to reciprocate. [break][break] It was Hikaru’s dream since he was a kid to be a cop, to be the hero that solved the mystery and caught the bad guy and saved the day. Unfortunately, as so often happens, the real world was far less partial to heroics and selflessness and that whole saving-the-day thing, and so he quit, making his own way in the world of right and wrong, deciding for himself who deserves to live and who deserves to find the end of his revolver. This, ultimately, has left him with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for sticking his nose in places he maybe shouldn’t. He’s not the type to sit back and watch while injustices go on, no matter how minor, and he isn’t great at keeping himself out of situations where someone seemingly needs protection… or where someone needs to be reminded that they don’t deserve the wealth and safety they lord over others. [break][break] Savior complex and a smile; what a combo, right? [break][break] LOOKS [break][break] Hikaru stands at a sturdy 6’1”, blonde hair and golden gaze the only remnants of his mother’s German heritage. Everything else is a product of his father: the height, the skin, the penchant for tattoos. Mom liked a rebel, you see, and Dad for all his high-society fluff had a rebellious streak beyond just sleeping with his German-exchange intern. Hikaru easily took over the trend when his dad dipped out of their lives, his left arm, side, and collarbone becoming a canvas. This habit is usually hidden away behind the button-down and slacks he frequents, but he proudly shows them off in his more casual-wear, usually in jeans and a t-shirt or tank top, at least when he’s not out running or working out in the park. He doesn't particularly like to wear his glasses, opting for contacts whenever possible, but they'll occasionally find their way back into his wardrobe when the need arises. The only other thing he’s regularly seen in is his maternal grandfather's old coat, an olive-colored thing with a fur-lined hood. It was one of his mother’s prized possessions and it’s one that he cherishes in her memory.
[break][break] HISTORY [break][break] Born to the esteemed Takahashi family, one would be forgiven for thinking Hikaru had an easy upbringing. His father, Masaru Takahashi, was a renowned and successful businessman, taking over the Takahashi company with the grace and composure of an elite. His one weakness, the one thing that he broke the rules for, was Elyse Fischer. A 23-year-old German exchange student interning at his company, Elyse was everything Masaru wanted--and everything he wasn’t allowed to have. Forbidden love resulted in Hikaru, a child born out of wedlock, a disgraceful stain on the family name, but the apple of his mother’s eye. [break][break] Hikaru doesn’t remember much of his father--the man was frequently in and out of that little apartment he’d secreted Elyse away to, distracted by his life and obligations in the realm of Tokyo’s rich and powerful--but he remembers everything about his mother. Her smile, her laugh, the smell of her perfume, the way she always held his hand when crossing the street, and how she ruffled his golden locks whenever she walked past. She was his everything, all sunshine and smiles. [break][break] Even when Hikaru’s father stopped coming around, when the only reminder of his presence was the check that came in the mail once a month, Elysa was constantly good. She raised Hikaru to have a strong moral compass, to always act with passion, to be kind and selfless and all of the traits that would have set him up for failure in his father’s world. It wasn’t until years later, after she had passed, that Hikaru realized how much she must have suffered, how much she must have kept from him. She was a single mother in a land she was only barely familiar with, the man she loved refused to see her, and she had a son to raise and guide through life. It was so much for one person, and to this day Hikaru wishes he’d had the wherewithal back then to help out more, to make things easier. [break][break] The hardest day in Hikaru’s life was when his mother passed. The sickness came upon her far too quickly, the hospital stay far too short, the funeral arriving far too soon. Even in those final days, Elyse would smile and ruffle her son’s hair, telling him how proud she was, how excited she was to see him grow into the good man she knew he would become. [break][break] He was fifteen when he held her hand and watched her drift away. [break][break] Hikaru’s father didn’t visit the hospital, but he was there when they buried her. They never spoke of Elyse, never spoke of Masaru’s actions, those men of the Takahashi clan, but Hikaru saw the shame in his father’s gaze, in the way he couldn’t look him in the eye, those golden hues that he’d shared with his mother. And so instead of talking about the past, they moved forward, an absent father becoming little more than a distant benefactor, the monthly checks now coming in Hikaru’s name. [break][break] He was permitted to keep the apartment in downtown Tokyo on the condition that he would welcome his family whenever they deemed him worthy a visit. The only family member who ever reached out, though, was his paternal grandmother, Ichika Takahashi, and she only did so to try and mold him into the heir that the family needed. She was a cruel woman, hardly subtle in her methods at trying to “rinse out” the Fischer taint in his blood. Constantly belittling and judging, she slowly began to convince Hikaru of his uselessness, of how much of a blemish he was on the Takahashi name. This, paired with his father’s clear avoidance of any connection, made Hikaru yearn for validation, for affection, trying to wow and please the assistants and tutors that were tossed his way, their fake smiles and falsified appreciation doing little more than making his efforts more desperate. [break][break] His eighteenth birthday was the first time since his mother’s passing that Hikaru really felt free. He could have gotten into any university he wanted to, whether from grades or familial connections, but against the wishes of his father’s family, of Grandma Ichika, he joined the police force. He wanted to help people, even if it caused him the scorn of his extended family. The force was his escape, his way of living up to all of his mother’s expectations. If he couldn’t impress his living parent, then he would do his damndest to impress the dead one. He would be a hero, a savior, someone his mother could be proud of. [break][break] Unfortunately, he couldn’t even do that. [break][break] The force wasn’t what he’d thought it would be, corruption and limiting beauracracy halting all attempts at doing any actual good. Too many nights he came home knowing he’d done little more than add an extra step to some bastard getting back on the streets; too often he had to sit around and wait for the news to tell him that another innocent had been lost, another life had been ruined… all because he wasn’t allowed to do his damn job. Ultimately, the job wasn’t good enough, and so he wasn’t good enough. [break][break] And so he left. If the force wasn’t going to let him be the hero he wanted to be, if it wasn’t going to let him protect those that needed protecting and hurt those that needed hurting, then he would do it himself. [break][break] That was three years ago. Now, Hikaru lives in an apartment in the city, only occasionally speaking with his family. He works odd jobs--anything that will pay the bills, really--frequently goes jogging around the city he loves, and has a decently successful social life. He also has a tendency to spend his nights out busting heads and working as his very own modern version of Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to… well… whoever the hell he sees fit.
