[Fosh]

What do the students of Japan's most prestigious university do in their free time? Visit junkyards, of course! Well, at least that's where Fosh preferred to go in order to relax. After all, an average garbage site embodied the complete opposite of what UAU's interior tried to represent. Sick of the atmosphere of control and perfection, it's no surprise that Fosh manages to find solace in places filled with flawed or unneeded materials.

Although, it's not as if he hasn't been visiting dumpsites since his early school years, so his enrollment in the UAU couldn't be the main reason. Most likely the real reason was that Fosh simply enjoyed scrap and garbage due to some personal preferences. The boy just liked trash. 

Motivations aside, Fosh was on his way to the next junkyard in Tokyo that he has yet to check out. Of course, Fosh wasn't going there on foot, or else how would he even dare to call himself the scrap wizard if he couldn't make a functioning motorbike of rusted metal. It was loud, it fumed like crazy, and every other road bump felt like it could be the last. But the scrap bike somehow pulled through and carried Fosh's ass to the junkyard, which honestly wasn't that surprising. The actual miracle was the fact that the teenager managed to not be noticed by the law, as he had no license for this pile of scrap he drove on. 

At nighttime, the giant mountains of scrap could appear to be both intimidating or creepy, but Fosh saw beauty in the their naturally formed shapes. So, carrying a huge grin, Fosh entered his favorite place through an old backdoor entrance before immediately jumping into the creative process. Only god could know what ideas the mechaniac had in mind as he digged through the heaps of rusted metal and wood, as Fosh himself simply let his creative instinct takeover without anything preplanned. 

In this state he was like a fish in a new fresh pond, so it would really suck if he got interrupted- "Hey! The hell are you doin' here!?". Hearing this deep and rigid voice call him out, Fosh snapped out of his working process and turned around. Soon as he did, the three men that stood there quickly flinched back in response.

They didn't look like the hobos Fosh usually encountered at places like this, but they weren't exactly well-dressed either. "You with the Scavengers?! I told them there are no vehicles left here!". The older one of the bunch spoke up in an irritated manner, but still carefully standing a few meters away.

"Nah bro, I am Fosh! Sure I take some scrap sometimes, but I ain't no scavenger! I think..."

CHUCK MCCOY

[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

You see some shit as a criminal.

To men getting brick’ed in broad daylight to the goofiest, whack-ass fits anyone could ever imagine. Overtime, what you see becomes a low-hanging haze which haunts the everyday, nothing outta the ordinary but still hella odd. Like, just tonight I saw someone shooting 100mph on the most busted, rad-ass lookin’ bike I ever seen. Where was he going?? How the hell was that thing moving or relatively safe? Where was his helmet?! Like I said, you see some shit.

I looked at him cruising down the road having the time of his life, then looked away. I was headed to the junkyard, in plain jeans, a t-shirt and my beat-up Converses. I parked my Civilian car off the curb, then carefully lugged a volley of four-by-four broken wooden slats, charred black, and a couple duffle bags of other junk. I went and messed up whatever it was I was creating again!! Pretty unsalvageable, but hella fun all the same and a good lotta learning! So like every good American, I was gonna dump all my crap somewhere and make it someone else’s responsibility!!

With four arms carting everything over, deeper and deeper into the throngs of trash and undesirables blinded by moonlight, that’s when I saw it. Or rather heard it. Three guys, towerin’ over a lil guy, calls himself Fosh. The prosthetic for his right hand, I ain’t see his leg, reminded me of an old cat, Taiki. Crazy hair, bit thin with a real bite in his eye. Then my eyes looked over the other three nobodies.

Now, I ain’t a Hero. Never could be, not in this lifetime or any other. In my line of work, you learn to mind your business real quick. But me being me, I pipe up anyway. Ain’t know why, there’s something compelling ‘bout him. “YO he ain’t no scavenger! Get back or he’ll BEAT YOUR ASS!!”

I’m in it now too!!

tag: Fosh