Etsusa Bridge

Phuket, Thailand. Patong Beach.

Under the blazing sun that summer day, the beach was crawling with tourists.

Though it wasn’t as crowded as Japan’s beaches, where there were more people than there was water, Patong Beach was not lacking for energy.

Visitors from all over the world melded into the captivating scenery enclosed in the Andaman Sea.

The beach was filled with so many people of so many backgrounds, as though they had been on the island from the very beginning.

“Huh? No way, you Japanese too? Man, talk about nostalgic! Yeah, I was there until just half a year ago!”

There was a food stand in the middle of the beach, full of tourists.

A man with rainbow-tinted hair grinned as he chattered amicably with the man next to him.

“Then again, I guess you can’t really call that Japan. I mean, it’s in Japan, but it’s notpart of it. You know about it, man? Everyone does. Y’know. That big-ass bridge between Sado Island and Niigata. The one they never finished! You heard about the artificial island in the middle? I used to live there for a while.”

The Japanese man, who seemed to be a tourist, gave the rainbow-haired man a curious look.

“They just left it there before they finished, so thugs and illegal immigrants started flockin’ to the place. What do people call it now? ‘The Island Abandoned by Japan’, ‘The Extraterritorial Island’, ‘Dump Island’, ‘The real island of dreams’…”

As though recalling a distant hometown, the man put on a lonely smile and began to tell his story.

“Sure the place is a dump, but it’s a damn good place for someone like me to live. Y’know, how normal people like you treat the island like a legend? But once you get used to the shit, there’s nothing better in the whole goddamned country.”

The rainbow-haired man tipped his glass, boasting of his past.

“A legend. Yeah. That’s the perfect word. The whole island’s turned into a legend like the Kowloon Walled City. Now, I pulled some crazy shit on that island, but there’s actually a lot of living legends there. Just like a movie!”

The Japanese man urged his new friend for details, curious.

“Hm. You wanna know ‘bout the legends? Let’s see…”

The rainbow-haired man looked up and thought for a moment. Then, after placing an order for more beer and snacks, began to narrate as though telling history.

“First up is the strongest man on the island. Sōji Kuzuhara, the head of the volunteer cops! One serious badass, swear to god. It’s like nothing is average about this guy. He deflects bullets with his hand. Can you believe that? Hey, don’t give me that look. Then again, I don’t blame you for being skeptical.”

Getting into the groove of storytelling, the rainbow-haired man chuckled and began to tell the many legends of the island.

As though bragging abut his own family, he did not know when to end the waves of legendary exploits.

“If you’re just thinking power, there’s Greatest Zhang—he’s the champ in the underground wrestling ring. Hand-to-hand, he’s on Kuzuhara’s level—he might even be stronger if it’s pro wrestling. Then again, fighting on the ring’s totally different from fighting off the ring.

“Guns? There’s Carlos. Almost made the Olympics, that guy.

“If you’re talking strong and dangerous, there’s Spring-heeled Joplin, the living urban legend. And—

“The strongest, baddest of them all. Yakumo Amagiri, the Killer Ghoul. He almost got me, too. Got away by the skin of my teeth, but I had the devil’s luck that day.

“Other than fighting skill? There’s this girl named Yua who tried to make a map of the entire island on her own. Nah, half the island’s a total maze now ‘cause the bums who live there keep renovating the place. And unlike amusement parks, there ain’t any employees there to bail you out if you get lost.

“Buruburu Airwaves! That’s the island’s very own radio station. The babe who runs it is this weirdo named Kelly. Nah, you wouldn’t get it if you didn’t see her in person.

“Then there’s the legendary pickpocket, Grandpa G. The G-pick for short. Apparently he’s never lost in fifty years. Dunno what he’s never lost at, but don’t ya think it’s pretty crazy how he lives off of pickpocketing on an island of poor-ass bums? He got me about three times, too.

“Old man Take’s tonkotsu ramen is a legend of its own.

“Ah, right. There’s the boss of the Eastern District. He’s a real wacko, that one. Huh? Oh. See, the island’s divided into a bunch of Districts. There’s an organization controlling each district, but they’re all pretty shady folks. It’s a big headache. I ended up here ‘cause I picked a fight with a Western District exec. Talk about stupid.”

Though the rainbow-haired man laughed self-deprecatingly, he showed no sign of regret or frustration.

“Who else… ah, I remember.”

After a short pause, he burst out laughing.

“Almost forgot this one. The island’s adorable kitten. The sweet pussycat who got to the island first, hunting down the rats taking over the joint.”

Chewing on a snack, the man began to tell the story of a certain legend.

“She’s whimsical and misbehaved, but you just can’t leave her alone. Just lookin’ at her makes you want to scratch the back of her neck. Although her claws are something else. Nah, not metaphorically. I’m talking literally.

“‘Cause her claws’re actually—” 𝙛𝘳𝘦e𝓌e𝗯n𝗼ѵ𝙚l.𝒄𝚘𝑚

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