THE SECRET LIFE OF SANDATSU OWARI

ENTER: SANDATSU OWARI, teenaged. The sky above is filled with a million screaming mouths. The Kyoto skyline is cracked and pitted, a mad mix of shattered concrete and exposed brick. From his throne atop a pile of broken corpses, SANDATSU can see all the way to the sea. His bloodstained hands hang slack at his sides. His ribs creak back into position; he takes a deep breath. In, out, in, out, in, out -

CUT TO: SANDATSU's POV. He is sitting in an empty classroom. A huge, bloodshot eye glares through one of the windows. His hands are folded neatly in front of him. The door creaks open, revealing ROSETHORN. With a wet-sounding smack, she collapses forward, landing face-first on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. As SANDATSU stares, the top of his desk flips upwards like a great, gaping mouth, unleashing an ear-shattering peal.

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, adult, bolting upright in bed. His undershirt is damp with sweat; it clings to his sculpted form. MIO KATSURAGI turns around from where she's seated in front of her vanity, cross-shaped pupils flashing as her gaze flicks over her husband.

MIO, coldly: You're awake. About time.

SANDATSU rubs at his eyes and reaches blindly to the side, muting the alarm clock on his bedside table. After a few long moments, he rises to his feet and shuffles into the bathroom. Turning away, MIO shakes her head and applies another layer of lipstick. In the bathroom, after he's taken a leak, SANDATSU stares at himself in the mirror, then reaches for a small pill-bottle by the sink. He tips two pink-coloured capsules into his hand and swallows them dry, then starts to wash up.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.

SANDATSU emerges from the bedroom which he shares with MIO. His wild, windswept blue locks have finally been tamed and he is wearing the uniform of a typical Japanese salaryman. Two bodies rush into him, wrapping around his torso.

CHILDREN, muffled: DADDY! DADDY!

SANDATSU pats their heads, smiling. He looks up to see MIO, arms folded, one foot tapping impatiently as she waits for him to finish saying good morning to their children.

SANDATSU: Good morning, Eikichi. Good morning, Shihai.

He stops.

SANDATSU, weakly: Shihai?

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, teenaged. The limp corpse of his mother, SHIHAI OWARI, slumps to the ground nervelessly. Her neck has been snapped. Cleanly. Dispassionately. Her eyes are milky and empty.

MIO: Come on, then. Let's go.

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, adult. He blinks, looking around, and realizes that he is in his car. MIO is looking at him expectantly. He glances over his shoulder and sees that both of his children are safely ensconced in the backseat, twinkling at him. He recognizes his son, EIKICHI, and his daughter, SHIORI. Why did he think that her name was Shihai? What a foolish thought to have.

MIO, impatiently: Hello? Sandatsu? Start the engine.

Her legs are too short to reach the pedals, so SANDATSU has become their family's designated driver. Mutely, SANDATSU starts the engine and drives out of the car-park. They exit the apartment complex without incident; SANDATSU navigates the roads ably. He stops outside MIO's workplace and waves at her retreating back. She does not turn around.

EIKICHI, timidly: Daddy, is everything okay?

SANDATSU stills.

SANDATSU: Of course, Eikichi. Why would you ever think otherwise?
SHIORI: Well, it's just that you were quiet for all of breakfast.

SANDATSU thinks. Had he eaten breakfast? He had. He remembers eating breakfast. The soft, soggy scrambled eggs. Cereal. The bitter tang of coffee scalding the back of his throat. Burnt toast. He remembers sitting down at the dining table and picking up his fork. He doesn't remember picking up his knife. He does, however, remember the salty-sweet taste of blood on his tongue.

SANDATSU: I was thinking about other things, Shiori. Don't worry about it.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, sitting at his desk. The ceiling soars high above his head in a gentle arc. The lighting, too, is soft and unobtrusive, more ambient than anything. The soft murmur of voices fills his ears. His face is slack. He is facing his COMPUTER. The pixels shimmer.

COMPUTER: WAKE UP

SANDATSU blinks. Cautiously, tentatively, he runs his fingers over the keys and types out a response, finger-by-finger.

SANDATSU: WHO ARE YOU
COMPUTER: WAKE UP
COLLEAGUE: Uh, Owari?

SANDATSU's head snaps up. The man standing in the doorway flinches, despite the fact that they're almost fifty metres apart. SANDATSU is the only worker in this huge, echoing room, filled with naught but stacks and stacks of servers. His workstation is a complex, multifaceted thing; from here, he can access hundreds upon thousands of records relating to the hero community of Kyoto.

COLLEAGUE, quickly: Just wanted to drop this off. Sorry.
SANDATSU: It's okay.

SANDATSU'S COLLEAGUE darts up to his desk, places the thumbdrive in his in-tray, and beats a hasty retreat. SANDATSU plucks it up between his two fingers and eyes it contemplatively, then places it in his mouth. He leaves it in there for a few seconds before removing it hastily. He wipes it clean with a few scraps of tissue paper and plugs it into his workstation.

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, teenaged. He is in the thick of battle. There must be hundreds of heroes here - and all of their attention is focused on him. SANDATSU feels oddly honoured by their presence and by their attention. Surrounded by a whirlwind of white-hot embers, he dips into a theatrical bow and rushes forward, head bowed, arms outstretched behind him. He collides almost immediately with SHINKAN SEN, who crumples like paper on impact. Beneath his warped, locomotive-shaped skull, there is a pink, gelatinous pile of blancmange: his brain. SANDATSU runs a hand over it, savouring the wet, wrinkled texture.

HIFUMI TAKEDA: Sandatsu? Bro?

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, adult. He is sitting in a well-appointed cafeteria bustling with office-workers and heroes. HIFUMI, his friend, is sitting opposite him; this cafeteria belongs to his agency. There is a steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. HIFUMI is halfway through his bowl, but SANDATSU's remains untouched.

SANDATSU: Huh?
HIFUMI, patiently: I was just saying that Hiro's been asking after you. About, you know, your meds and all.
SANDATSU: Oh.

His phone rings.

SANDATSU: Sorry, I've got to take this.
HIFUMI: No worries.

SANDATSU rises to his feet and leaves the cafeteria, ducking into a corner to answer the call. It's MIO. She's pissed.

MIO, furious: I just heard from Eikichi and Shiori's teachers. Have you been dropping them off at the Wcdonald's on Hisashi-zaka?
SANDATSU: What?
MIO: Please stop playing dumb. Why can't you just drop them off at the school itself? We might as well just get them to take the train.
SANDATSU: Okay.
MIO: Okay? That's it? It's that easy?
SANDATSU: Yeah.
MIO: Great. Fine.

She hangs up. SANDATSU stares at his phone, slips it back into his pocket, and walks back into the cafeteria. It's empty. The silence is deafening. SANDATSU returns to his table and digs into his ramen.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, teenaged. His arms are corded with muscle. He's throttling a pint-sized green dragon, its neck tensing and relaxing under his palm as it struggles to slip out of his grip. With a mighty roar, BOBBY SAMSON rushes forward, trying to distract him long enough for the dragon to escape, but SANDATSU throws him back with a flick of a finger. Lightning, fire and other, more esoteric energies rain down on him, even penetrating his protective shield of swirling ashes, but are unable to leave a mark.

SANDATSU, desperately, speaking faster: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.
PHARMACIST, hesitantly: Okay? Sir? Hello?

CUT TO: SANDATSU OWARI, adult. He's standing in front of a counter. His hands are shaking. There are people staring at him. The RECEPTIONIST looks tense. He takes a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax, and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. Someone clears their throat. Finally, SANDATSU produces a slip of paper and slides it across the counter.

SANDATSU: I'm here to refill my prescription.
PHARMACIST: Certainly, sir.

She returns after a few minutes. As he signs, she clears her throat.

PHARMACIST: Would you like an appointment, sir?
SANDATSU: With who?
PHARMACIST: With one of our psychiatrists. You were standing there for an awfully long while.
SANDATSU: I'm good, thanks.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, at the dinner table. All is silent. MIO is eating quickly and efficiently, shoveling food into her mouth with one hand as the other nimbly navigates her phone-screen. SANDATSU blinks.

SANDATSU: Where's Eikichi and Shiori?
MIO, without looking up: They've gone to bed.

SANDATSU looks down at the table. There is no plate in front of him. He remembers, now; MIO had to work late. He stayed up for her.

MIO: Have you filed our tax returns yet?
SANDATSU: What?
MIO: Our household tax returns. The tax returns that I passed to you last night. Did you file them?
SANDATSU, lying: Yes.
MIO: Well, as long as it's done before the end of the month.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, standing at the sink. He is washing the dishes. He has been washing the same dish for the past ten minutes.

SANDATSU, internally: Once, a long, long time ago, I did a bad thing. I did a lot of bad things. With the help of my friends, I was able to save myself before I passed the point of no return. I am happy. I am in control. I love my wife and my children.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He glances to his right and sees MIO. Her back is turned.

SANDATSU, internally: I am happy. I am in control. I love my wife and my children. I take my meds. I am well-adjusted. I've gotten over my shitty childhood. I have an active social life. I work a solid, well-paying job.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, staring at himself in the mirror. His blue hair hangs lank from his scalp; he looks haggard. Either his skin is stretched too tight over his bones, or it hangs too loose. He glances at his pill-bottle. It's empty.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. My name is Sandatsu Owari. My name is Sandatsu Owari.

CUT TO: SANDATSU, teenaged. He is wandering through the hallways of Shiketsu High. The sky outside is completely black, but there is still a strange, sickly kind of light radiating from the ceilings, playing over his face. He reaches a door and opens it. There are twenty-four chairs in the classroom. Twenty-three of them are occupied.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.

INIGO MYOGA is leaning back in his chair, slumped. He is missing his dragon and his trademark suit is torn and soiled. A few strands of hair yet cling to HAILEY CHANG's scalp, but that's all that remains. SOUJYUURO IMAI's skull is exposed, all of his flesh having since rotted away; there is a clear and obvious indent on his forehead where his third eye once lurked. KAYLEE SUZUKI has fallen sideways, her skeleton somehow still largely intact despite having scattered FAITH KANG's ribcage across the floor. A maggot pokes its head out from inside CHIHIRO MITSURUGI's eye-socket.

SANDATSU, internally: My name is Sandatsu Owari. I am thirty years old. I have a wife, Mio Katsuragi, and two children - a boy and a girl. They are the axes around which my world revolves.

SANDATSU sits down in his spot and folds his arms neatly in front of him.