Chapter Two

Osaka was gone; a burnt-out frying pan with the good food scraped away.

Some ten miles away stood Kage, a small provincial town located in the safe zone where the radiation was at its weakest. 

The town planners had tried their best to recreate a historic feel, with buildings that could have existed in the nineteenth century. The signs were made to look faded, with pokey-looking shops that were authentic enough to attract the sweet tourist cash.

Old stone paved the steep hill, winding around a Swiss clock over the pedestrianised plaza.

It was all too clean, too new and sanitised. Nothing had aged, weathered or seen centuries of wear and tear.

Ami Kinugawa thought it was a theme park.

On the evening of her daughter's disappearance, the pale woman sat in a red Volkswagen Beetle patterned with yellow flowers.

To her left, ancient carpets were rolled outside pinging Arcades, while the trace of a Sushi restaurant drifted down the same five shops and an unfurnished unemployment centre.

Everything smelled of burnt plastic.

Pulling up to her house, the car stopped outside a rundown building held up by scaffolding and draped in Tarpaulin.

Ami opened the front door, and at the same time, her Smartphone trilled inside a Tote bag.

“Hey, what's up?" She said.

"Ah, Mom?"

"Are you okay? You sound out of breath."

"I'm gonna need a lift."

"You broke down already?” Ami said, dumping her keys. “Sorry, I made sure the car came with new parts."

"No, I don't have my car." Mego said.

"Where are you?"

Her daughter selected the words carefully.

"This is gonna sound weird, but...I'm in Tokyo"

Ami looked at the clock. “I see. And where are you, really?”

“I’m serious.”

"Since you’ve got time to bum around, I suggest you get back to work."

Mego’s voice was barely audible. "I'm going to send you something."

The phone 'blooped', which indicated a video call was imminent. Ami tapped the prompt, bringing up a live feed from a rainy backstreet filled with coffee shops and crowds. Mego suddenly came into view, dressed in a mustard-yellow hoodie, her face splashed with cobalt blue liquid. Ami's mind went into 'standby' mode.

""What's that on your face? What is that place?"

"Kabukichō? I think?" Mego said, touching her face. "I don't know what this is. It's all down my shirt, so that's great."

"This is a joke," Ami said, her face set stony as the kitchen counter. "You’re winding me up with some kind of fake visuals. Go back to work before you get fired."

"This is a live video call," Mego said, her voice teetering on the edge of despair. "You have to believe me." She slowly rotated 180 degrees so the phone could capture a panoramic view of the street. Ami watched the bustling, grey street, with people hunched over, deflecting the rain. She even recognised a few places, which deepened her confusion.

"Even if it were a prank, how can I travel hundreds of miles in an hour?"

"I don't have time for this."

"Mum, don't hang up, please! It's real. The last thing I want is more trouble, especially after this morning."

"What you are saying is not possible."

“Tell me about it.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

"I don’t know! C’mon, I wouldn't mess you around like this, I’d never hear the end of it.”

"Oh, trust me; you’ve got a storm comin' your way, if this turns out to be horse-shit."

"So you'll come to Tokyo?"

Ami padded over to the fridge and pulled out a Cheesecake.

"Okay," She said. "Firstly, don't show your phone off; you won't get it back. Secondly, do you have any money?"

Mego checked her pockets. She could feel shiny notes and the shrapnel of loose change.

"Some, but it's not mine."

"It is now."

"Mum, I'm not stealing from work."

"You’re in the middle of a city, hundreds of miles from home. You don't have time to play nice."

"You'll pay it back, right?"

"Of course," Ami said. "Can you get a train back?"

"I can, but I don't want to be trapped. Anything could happen."

"I understand. What part are you in?

Mego glanced to her left. "I can see somewhere called ‘Shakes."

“Good. Get yourself something to eat, don't wander far, don't talk to anyone or leave your phone on the table."

"I just said..."

"Damnit, Mego, I will reimburse the lost cash, just stay inside. I'll try and get there in two, maybe three hours?"

"I can't sit around for that long; owners don't like that."

"Okay, okay," Ami said, rubbing her temple. She wondered if there was a leaflet with advice about teleporting daughters.

"Hello?" Mego said.

"I'm here.” Ami brought up her bag and pulled out a leather-bound Tablet. She tapped the global map and pinched the screen to zoom in. “Alright, find your way to a movie theater. Oh, and get cleaned up first."

Mego started to rub her eye with the heel of her hand.

"Mum, I'm scared."

"It’ll be okay, just keep everything zipped up, it's like Oliver Twist over there."

"Thanks. It's been a crazy day."

"It ain't over yet."

"Don't jinx it!" Mego said. She then peered into the camera. "Are you eating a Cheesecake?!"

"I'm eating my half," Ami said.

"Wow. Thanks." Mego said flatly. "Take your time, why don't you?" She glanced around. "Look, message me when you get to out, okay? Give it a couple of hours. I've got to go."

"Be safe, Bab. Love you."

Mego signed off with a watery smile before her feed disappeared with another 'Boop', leaving Ami to look blankly at a dead screen. Usually, she would have sped to her daughter's rescue because nothing in the world mattered more, but something made her pause and stare at the shape on the horizon.

Wandering out into the garden, she could see the cherry-red blink of an aircraft warning light. Silhouetted on the horizon, a great Tower blotted the skyline like a felled Titan.

Its presence was a constant reminder, mocking her pain.

“No," Ami said, quietly. "No, you don't get to have her."

With furious determination, she grabbed her bag and headed for the car.

***

By six in the evening, it was still sunny, and the world smelled like a dying campfire.

Shrugging off the humidity, Mego ordered an ice orange soda from a fast food place known as ‘Shines, Shakes and Laughs,’ and to avoid thieves, she used a brown payphone under a plastic dome to call Shin.

"Dude, I am freaking out.” She said, her voice tinged with a quiet panic. "I'm about to lose my shit in front of everyone."

"Don’t freak out and end up making a scene.”

"I've just been teleported to Tokyo; damn right I'm making a scene. What the hell is going on?"

"I honestly don't know; this is new to me, too."

"Great help you turned out to be."

"Where exactly did you land?" Shin said. “Someone must have seen you pop out of nowhere.”

For the life of her, she could not remember the point of entry.

"It's all wiped," Mego said, rubbing the Nightingale tattoo on her forearm. "Anything to do with travelling or arriving is a blank. I could have been walking for miles in a daze.”

"It's scary that someone could do that."

Time was getting on.

"Gotta go, talk soon,"

Mego hung up without waiting for a reply.

Back outside, a warm breeze prickled her bare arms.

Patrons dressed for an opera populated the nearby bar, which Mego avoided like a bag of rats. There was no way she was going to get served wearing a Yellow hoodie with a streak of vomit down one side.

It was then that something flashed in her peripheral vision, a shape obscured by the crowd, but its motion was flittering, as if untuned to reality. She shook her head and glanced at a small Bistro, with its rotating hologram of a Stella Artois bottle.

The male clientele wore the usual status symbols: rock watches, Gold pops, and a suit cut from Savile Row. The women were poured into little black dresses, wrapped in cashmere and sat ordering Persian Wine.

Mego stopped to see the evening stretch into night; its clouds like bruises on an Apricot Sky. A sideways glance toward a nearby shop window caught the figure again. It might have been due to the glass, but she swore the stranger’s face distorted into a mess of computer pixels, before becoming flat, as if drawn on a box. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Keep it together.

The longer she walked, the more her shoes chafed. Mego cursed how her new red trainers were still in the car, back in that loathsome Cul-de-Sac where nothing made sense. She felt a shudder crest the tops of her arms at the thought of any kind of retrieval. For now, all she could do was take in Soho during the fading evening.

The weather changed on a dime. Streets sizzled with a pattering rain, making the pavements shine like new glass.

Mego passed music murmuring out from dirty, Satanic bars, while people tottered out from shadowy backstreets, and cast hollow stares in her direction.

Tokyo is a circus. She thought. And all the clowns are pissed off.

The scent of rain still lingered in the cold air, while strong lights began to blaze out from almost every corner.

Wheeling seagulls heckled somewhere from up high, causing Mego to wonder if any inbound splatter could improve the smell.

Stopping by a Pharmacy meant stocking up on toiletries, a cheap tub of headache pills and an over-priced banana milkshake.

The shop was so small that no one could have fit more than a bicycle inside.

Mego left, draining the milkshake before tossing it into a bin. No sign of her stalker.

Under the gold-lit wash of incandescent bulbs, she came across a clothes shop named 'High Dungeon' off a side street alley.

Behind the counter, a sneezing Filipino woman sat wearing a pale grey Rugby shirt.

The shop was gloomy and austere, selling cheap clothes in neat piles, accompanied by two mobile racks.

All around, Silver-coloured artwork decorated purple walls.

Mego bought a pale yellow sweater and a pleated brown mini-skirt, and paid for both.

After seeking help from a passing Police officer, Mego made her way to a movie theater.

Gravitating toward the closest building, she bought a ticket for a Sci-fi movie before heading off toward the restroom. Staring into the mirror, Mego spat out a thick, blue wad into the sink.

“Happy birthday, you fuckin’ idiot.” She said, slurring with exhaustion.

Being in Tokyo was crazy in itself, but it could have been a lot worse, like how Mego nearly died at the hands of Chiyoko Kobayashi