<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/HlySd/BunjiAvy_zpsrx4zqdxu.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Sagawa Bunji<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Bunji's Apartment --> Sake Garden --> Streets of Tokyo<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<strong>Mentioned:</strong>Sailor Moon<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">“Bun-kun!”<br/><br/>Matsumi nudged the slumbering knight with her bunny slipper. He was sleeping like a rock—unmovable and could not be stirred. He was snoring softly—something he rarely did—and a stream of drool was making a wet spot on the carpet. His mother nudged him again a little harder.<br/><br/>“Bunji!”<br/><br/>The fighter’s eyes cracked open and he stared groggily at the pair of smiling rabbits that were before his face. For a moment, he didn’t seem to take much notice until everything suddenly caught up to him. Bunji sat up in a start and the blanket of the kotatsu went flying over the clean table.<br/><br/>“What time is it?” he asked in a panic.<br/><br/>“5:30. Bun-kun, I tried to wake you. I’m surprised you woke up now.”<br/><br/>Springing to his feet, the knight exclaimed, “I’m going to be late!”<br/><br/>He bolted down the hall, fighting his undershirt that was suddenly trying to restrict his movements.<br/><br/>“Wha-what the?”<br/><br/>He stopped and flapped his arms a little, feeling the material as taut as taut could be. It had fit him just fine last night. He didn’t have time to figure it out. Battling the clingy garment as he burst into his room, he barely managed to get free of it so that he could get out of his work pants and into a towel.<br/><br/>“Bun-kun, I’ll make you some toast okay?” Matsumi yelled.<br/><br/>“Sure. Whatever!”<br/><br/>Running out of his room with a towel about his hips, he shouldered into the bathroom and kicked the door behind him closed; and then, he froze upon looking at the mirror. Bunji felt a shock of well…shock shoot up his spine. His mouth fell open when he gazed upon the body that he was seeing in the mirror. His towel fell from his suddenly weak grip as he stepped closer to the sink. He looked as though he had been pounding pre-workout and protein shakes.<br/><br/>“What the fuck!?” he accidentally exclaimed.<br/><br/>“Bun-kun, is something wrong?”<br/><br/>He slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Matsumi’s voice grow louder until she was standing outside the bathroom door.<br/><br/>“Is everything all right in there?”<br/><br/>He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror as he crossed and uncrossed his arms, watching his muscles shift beneath his flesh. This had to be the most fit he’s ever been in his life!<br/><br/>“N-nothing’s wrong, I’m good!”<br/><br/>“Are you sure? You sound nervous.”<br/><br/>“Matsumi…this is one of those times that we talked about where a man shouldn’t be disturbed.”<br/><br/>His mother’s cheeks glowed pink before she turned away in embarrassment as though a door hadn’t been between them.<br/><br/>“Oh! Sorry! I’ll-I’ll just go back to the kitchen!” she frantically apologized before she scurried away. <em>Right now? I thought that he was going to be late.</em><br/><br/>Bunji curiously stepped over to the scale and when the dial blurred, he felt his blood run cold upon seeing the number it had halted on.<br/><br/>(http://media1.giphy.com/media/1FpxFCobvJra/giphy.gif)<br/><br/><em>23 kg!? (50 lbs)</em><br/>(<strong>Note:</strong> <em>This is when Bunji actually became 225 lbs.</em>)<br/><br/>Had that been from solely dinner? He did prepare a lot of meats but…shit, he was going to be late!<br/><br/>Into the shower and out in ten, Bunji had managed to squeeze into a work uniform. None of his shirts had fit and he barely got the sleeves pulled down on his jacket. He had pocketed some money and absently didn’t think anything of the belt buckle that was still neatly sitting on the kotatsu. He carried his bike toward the door and snatched the toast that Matsumi held on a plate for him and kissed her on the cheek. He saw her gawking. She normally wouldn’t let him leave the house looking disheveled but his current attire had her stunned. He wasn’t able to button his undershirt passed the expanse of his chest and upper ribs and his sleeves were restricting his arm movement. His pants were uncomfortably tight about the crotch area and thighs and even as he waddled passed her, Matsumi was following him like a storm.<br/><br/>“Goodbye Matsumi! Be safe,” Bunji quickly bade. He wasn’t in the mood to try and explain the strange things that were happening.<br/><br/>“Bunji Matheson!” she exclaimed.<br/><br/>Aw shit, he knew he was in serious trouble now. He walked a little faster and once outside, he mounted his bike like a horse in mid-sprint and sped out of there.<br/><br/>“Bunji!” she yelled after him and puffed her cheeks in anger. She couldn’t believe that he actually left the house in such small clothes. He should have known that that outfit wouldn’t fit.<br/><br/><strong>Sake Garden</strong><br/><br/>It had been a humiliating ride into Tokyo, but he was glad that he had made it to work. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one that had made it. The kitchen looked the same way he had left it and when he walked into the dining area for the first time since last night, he was surprised to see all the flipped tables, broken dishware, and clutter that littered the place. He could see where last night’s struggle with the zombies had occurred and the flies seemed to be enjoying the rank feast. Raising a sleeve to his nose, he turned from the dining area to investigate the manager’s office. He had left the restaurant billing notices but cleaned out the Sake Garden’s funds.<br/><br/>Frowning a little, Bunji thought, <em>He better hope that I don’t see him again.</em><br/><br/>The money that he had gotten from the U.N. was a blessing. If that woman had never given it to him, then he would have had no way to help him and his mother. He was now officially jobless.<br/><br/>“Damn it…,” he cursed. It was going to be awhile before he could get hired again, and he didn’t think he was going to convince any employer with his current outfit.<br/><br/>Today’s task list was going to be: new clothes, job search, and then buy more groceries for the house. It seemed simple enough.<br/><br/><strong>Afternoon</strong><br/><br/>By afternoon, Bunji had on a crisp, dark-grey suit—ten times better than the last outfit he had been wearing. There had been a few restaurants desperate to hire him but all didn’t have the type of pay he was looking for. They wanted to pay him minimum wage and he felt that his cuisine was above that. He was feeling desperate. The suitcase money was supposed to solely be for Matsumi. The thought of his mother just then reminded him to pick up some groceries when suddenly a man shoulder-checked him. However, it had been the man who had ran into him that was in more pain.<br/><br/>Bunji’s head snapped over his shoulder to watch the bastard run. His hackles were raised as though someone had just attempted to pick a fight with him but as more people dodged around him, he realized that practically every citizen in his vicinity were running as though Gojira was attacking.<br/><br/><strong>Where are the Heroes of Man?...Sailors, Knights, if you would call yourselves ‘heroes,’ then come, and FIGHT! Or this city will burn.</strong><br/><br/>Not another situation…he had to be dreaming. His hand went to the pocket of his dress pants, finding only his wallet in the right and broken cellphone—why did he still carry that thing around?—in the other. Bunji paled a little. He had forgotten that <em>stupid</em> belt buckle. He also didn’t have the gloves that had come with it. He hadn’t thought anything of it. His life wasn’t supposed to go this way. He wasn’t a hero. Zombie apocalypses didn’t happen! Neither did some grim-reaper guy magically appearing in Tokyo!<br/><br/>A strange girl dressed in crazy cosplay…wait. He knew that girl—well, he didn’t exactly <em>know</em> her, but he had seen her last night at the huddle around the talking cats—that made logical sense…She seemed to be confronting the baddie alone and he couldn’t help but feel that that was a bad idea. If the guy was able to send the entire city running (which really didn’t take much actually—any terrorist could achieve that), then he was serious business.<br/><br/>Bunji was suddenly feeling vulnerable. He didn’t want for the creepy robed guy to see him. Stepping into an alley, he pressed his back against the wall and struck it angrily with his fist.<br/><br/><em>Damn it! Why does this have to be happening to me right now? Why couldn’t it have been someone else? I don’t even live in the city!</em> Bunji thought.<br/><br/>He needed to return to his bike and then perhaps figure a way around the situation so he didn’t have to get involved. At least not until he got home to get that belt buckle…or…if he managed to get home he probably wouldn’t have bothered to return to the city.<br/></span>