Third Line Pulse-Chapter 1 (old version)

Please comment. How does this work as a first scene? I spaced it for easier reading. >.< Sorry if the grammar is a little messed up in places. There may be some violence in here, I'm not sure what's good with you. Otherwise, enjoy!
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Electric rain.
That is what they called it. In actuality neither having anything to do with electricity or precipitation. Rather, a strange anomaly affecting the refraction of light shimmering in the sediment particles which permanently hung in the air. It only occurred at the topmost canvas of the city, the cresting edge of the steel and glass titanic monstrosities which loomed above the streets below. For only there could the light reach. It had a cold, metallic touch.

Ash pressed his back up against the rough concrete wall, staring for a quiet moment at the dazzling specter. Here from the city’s blue hues, the sky above seemed much clearer and higher, making the silver, splintering patches of light even more visible. It was to him something beautiful, though others might have called it eerie, and he watched it from the shadows of a deep alley, allowing time to drift past. Soon the shadows shifted and changed, and Ash slid down to a sitting position, letting his head fall back against the cool wall. The shimmering lights vanished as the suns position sank towards the horizon, and Ash closed his eyes. He soaked in every sound the city had to offer. The infinite droning of old vehicle’s engines, blaring of horns, people about their everyday business, construction somewhere, a black headed gull drifting above the soaring towers. It was this, the dirt and grime and mundane-ness that defined a city, and for Ohiro it gave the world a tinted, heavy atmosphere. Ash had just arrived the day before. Having nowhere to sleep he had spent the night curled up on a hard terminal bench. Today had been spent wandering the streets, trying to find a place to work, and generally just enjoying drifting through the vastly different climates of the city. But a clamping pang in his stomach warned him that he had better find work fast, especially considering that he had only twenty Giri left in his pocket. He had expected to get a job here in Katano, but apparently the general urban area rejected his type. He would have to start looking in the poorer District, Murugawa. Ash grimaced at the thought of combing those streets. As he rested there, the sounds began to blur into one, and soon he was lost to the world…

Ash stirred and woke with a start. He must have dozed off. Around him the shadows had deepened---the sun was beginning to set. Ash stretched and reluctantly got to his feet. He wandered down the street, passing by a tantalizing noodle shop. His stomach growled. It had been two days since his last meal---a hasty bowl of rice thrown together before he had packed up and moved out for the city. He regretted not stopping at some promising dumpsters, but he still resisted the idea of picking through trash. Ash moved on, and had gone a considerable distance before turning onto a side street which headed toward Murugawa. There he stopped, and his expression hardened. He knew of course, that an any city gangs infested the unregulated streets, but he had not expected to run into any members this soon. It was a local, average, unimportant group. Its members mostly in their early twenties, with shaved heads and scorpion tattooed shoulders. They were of no consequence really, a small gang which served only to stir up minor trouble, like the majority of the gangs in the city. It was just Ash’s bad luck that he happened to have run into one of them.

There were five of them, hedging in a small time liquor store owner. Laughing, they were in the process of “coaxing” the pasty faced man for the money he owed them for a so-called debt. But they did not matter to Ash. Their leader, he recognized immediately. It was impossible not to recognize him. His name was Jyoza, a man with two colored eyes, one a pale blue and the other a dark brown. Jyoza had a huge tattoo on one side of his closely shaved head, a scorpion figure. Ash assumed that he had been the one who had formed this particular gang, seeing as they were patterned after his style. Jyoza seemed to sense he was being watched. He looked up and stared fully into Ash’s face. Ash, promptly turned and fled. A puzzled expression crossed Jyoza’s face, but then he smiled.

Even before he had left the street behind him, Ash cursed his recklessness. He probably would have not even been noticed without his hasty departure. Ash gritted his teeth. Jyoza. A deserter from the Rebellion who had come to Ohiro a few months before the resistance had begun to dissolve. As a former messenger, it was his leaking of information that had in part served in the Rebellion’s downfall. Ash, as a gun runner, had met him only once or twice, but he would never forget that man’s face. Ash sprinted through a deserted parking lot and darted back around a shabby old building. He stopped behind a dumpster, panting. The gang found him quickly, but Ash did not have the energy to continue the chase. The cramp in his gut reminded him of that. Jyoza approached him with a smug grin, but his cautious tension belied his true feelings.
“Well well, look at the rat whose wandered into our territory.” he came closer, and Ash backed away until his back slammed into the wall. “I would be careful around here kid, you wouldn’t want to get hurt.” Ash stared at him, his expression unreadable. He was calculating, planning for his next move.
“Hey Jyoza, do you know this guy?” one of the others asked. Jyoza cocked his head to one side.
“Well, he looks familiar, but I can’t place his face exactly.” Ash was not sure if Jyoza was lying or not. He might be trying to hide his connections to the past as well.
“What do you say kid? Do I know you from somewhere?” Ash did not move. Jyoza shrugged. “Well, I guess we might as well strip him for change. Don’t know if he’s got much on him though.” The five pressed in around him, and Ash glanced from side to side. He could not find a way of escape.
“Ah well,” Jyoza said. “I guess we’ll just have some fun then.” he flicked out a switchblade, the steel glinting dangerously. Ash waited. Jyoza struck out at him, cutting upwards with the knife. Ash dodged to the side. He noticed Jyoza’s stance, and stepped in easily, tripping Jyoza and causing him to fall to the ground. The other four rushed him at once, angered at watching their leader be felled so easily. Ash darted around them, trying to break free of the circle. But he was jumped, and four was too many for him. Ash was pinned up against the wall. Jyoza got up, blood dripping from his chin. He flicked it off and with wordless rage balled up his fists and whaled into Ash’s abdomen. Jyoza bent into his cruel work, and Ash fell limp after about ten blows. The punishment ended and they let him drop to the ground. Ash curled into a ball, grabbing at his side. Jyoza stepped back, and the four others were allowed their share of the tormenting. They kicked at him until he was pressed into the corner. The beating stopped, and Ash looked up. Jyoza again had his knife. He sneered down at his victim.
“Get up.” he said, spitting into Ash’s face. Ash obeyed weakly, lurching to his feet. He was slightly amazed that he had managed to hold the contents of his stomach in. Bruised and battered, Ash felt dizzy. But he saw that the others had drawn back. There was an opening of escape. Jyoza lunged with the knife. This time, Ash was not fast enough, and the blade sliced along his fore arm. Ash ducked to the side and ran, ignoring his aching side. He sprinted down the street, with the gang close at his heels. Ash looked up and spotted his mode of escape. It was a biker, pulling up to a the side of the street on a Motorcycle. Ash rushed at him, and before the poor driver knew what was happening he had been pushed off to the ground. Ash pulled out, tires digging into the pavement. He curved around and roared off down the street. Checking behind him to see what his adversaries would do. He caught no sight of Jyoza.

Ash weaved through the streets, concentrating on maintaining control of the bike as he leaned over the saddle. Needless to say, he was not feeling well. He heard something behind him, an approaching engine. Ash checked behind him and his stomach dropped. Jyoza had a bike as well. Impersonal beneath a dark red helmet, he chased after him. Ash began to take risks. He drifted around to take a low tunnel and jumped over a drainage channel. The weight of the bike carried through the air, and the landing jarred him, causing him to feel every bruise. Jyoza pulled up beside him. Ash glanced ahead, then kicked out agilely. His foot contacted Jyoza’s helmet. The bike tipped over, rolling over and over. It spun around wildly and the front wheel caught the back off Ash’s bike. He lost control, bailing out just as the bike hit the pavement. Ash rolled across the rough asphalt. His bike slid into Jyoza’s, and their engines contacted. Ash ducked as an explosion rocked the street. Ash waited until the flying debris had stopped whizzing past above him, and then slowly got to his feet, wincing with every movement. There was a circle of flames surrounding the charred skeletons of the two bikes. But the only sign of Jyoza was a crushed helmet. Ash staggered away, and emptied the few contents of his stomach. He then took stock of his surroundings. The brief chase had led him further into Murugawa, and he was utterly lost. Night had fallen all about him, and although the people who lived here never came out at night, they made an exception to investigate the explosion. Ash felt light headed with the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. For a while he stopped feeling his wounds. But as he stumbled off into the night, he began to truly feel the extent of his injuries. Especially the cut in his arm. He would need a few days to rest easy. Someplace where he was protected. But a place for that purpose would not be found here, and he knew it. Ash walked on. Past strips of buildings with bright, sickenly toned neon signs. And then he left the main throughways and was enveloped in the darkness. A tiny trickle of blood dripped onto the ground each time he took a step. This then, was to be his home. The dangerous maze of Ohiro.