04-Screw your faith! Give me my money back!

A girl crouched at the edge of a rotting, dilapidated rooftop, her droopy blue eyes scanning the streets of Hiho-mura below. She was only seventeen, but growing up in these slums had made her a master of one thing: surviving by any means necessary.
Her name was Konan Tora.
The cold night wind whipped at Konan’s blonde twin-tails, which stuck out from under a black snapback cap featuring a graphic of a mouth sticking out its tongue. The metallic tang of rust from the billowing steam pipes around her seemed to perfectly camouflage her presence. Down below, antique gas lamps cast a dim, sickly yellow glow over the narrow alleyways packed with folks in tattered rags.
Her eyes locked onto a guy stumbling out of a ramen stall. He waddled with a slight wobble, proudly patting a bulging food baby, looking completely stuffed. He was rocking a white graphic tee of a blonde waifu—clean but a bit worn—black boxers, and, what caught Konan’s attention the most, a very heavy-looking coin pouch tied to his waist.
"Some broke-ass Itokyo prep," Konan concluded. "Easy pickings."
Konan flashed a faint smirk. It had been a hot minute since she’d spotted a mark worth hitting—most people in Hiho-mura were just as dirt-poor as she was. The guy—none other than Toma—started walking with that unsteady waddle. Food coma kicking in. His guard was totally down. Perfect.
But suddenly, Toma stopped dead in his tracks and started talking. Konan strained her ears, but there wasn't a single soul near him.
"Dude's talking to himself?" Konan raised an eyebrow.
"Hehe, after being chronically unemployed and starving for so long, getting stuffed like this feels like a literal fever dream." Toma patted his gut proudly, his eyes sparkling. "Alright, now that my HP is maxed out, I can actually focus on the job!"
Konan frowned. What a weirdo, bro's legit having a whole conversation with the air. 
SWISH!
Konan made her move, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with the silent agility of a stray cat. Her boots barely made a sound as she touched down on the moss-slicked tiles. Her brown leather jacket fluttered in the wind, revealing a black tank top underneath.
She tracked Toma from above, waiting for the perfect window. Toma was still talking to himself, his expressions shifting wildly—one second hyped, the next confused, then looking like he was in a heated debate with his inner demons.
"Yeah, he's definitely tweakin'. But that cash is real. That's all that matters."
Finally, Konan watched Toma wander into a quieter stretch of the street. She dropped from the roof, landing in a narrow alley with a whisper-quiet thud. She regulated her breathing, clocked the exact position of the pouch on his waist, and casually strolled out of the alley.
Timing had to be flawless. A second too early, she’d blow her cover. A second too late, the window closes.
Right as Toma inexplicably toppled over backwards and started grumbling—for whatever reason, and Konan truly didn't give a damn—she saw her opening.
Konan bolted. It wasn't just a sprint; it was an explosive burst of speed honed from years of surviving the grimy streets of Hiho-mura. Her footsteps were light but lightning-fast, her body leaning forward with the dead-on precision of a track star.
WHOOSH!
In the blink of an eye, Konan was right beside him. Her nimble hand shot out, her fingers undoing the knot on the pouch with a practiced, ghostly touch—muscle memory built on hundreds of successful swipes.
The bag officially changed hands.
Konan instantly blasted past, leaving the completely oblivious Toma in the dust.
"Too easy, man. Coulda done that in my sleep."
"Huh?"
Toma patted the pocket of his boxers, thoroughly confused. His money pouch... was gone?
"MY MONEY POUCH IS GONE!"
He whipped his head around and spotted the twin-tailed girl who had just brushed past him—the exact same girl he’d noticed watching him earlier. She was currently booking it down the street, clutching a very familiar-looking cloth bag.
Grandma Bota's warning instantly played on loop in his head.
"Keep your head on a swivel. Plenty of pickpockets runnin' these Hiho-mura streets!"
"HEEEEEY!" Toma screamed in pure, unadulterated rage, pointing at the fleeing thief. "GIMME BACK MY HARD-EARNED CASH, YOU LITTLE PUNK!"
The girl completely ignored his shouting and kept sprinting, starting to melt into the crowd.
"Toma-kun!" Ame-chan yelled right next to him, her transparent body floating with a dead-serious expression. "Chase her down by activating your Suppafuku!"
"On it!" Toma sucked in a massive breath and screamed at the top of his lungs:
"ENKAI!"
POOF!
A blinding cloud of white smoke instantly swallowed Toma's body like a detonating star. The Will of Ame t-shirt he was wearing glowed with intense brilliance, radiating a supernatural aura that made the pedestrians around him stumble back in a mix of awe and absolute terror.
"T-That crazy dude?! He has a Suppafuku?!"
"No freaking way!"
When the smoke cleared, Toma’s whole aesthetic had completely changed. His graphic tee and boxers were gone—replaced by a tight, ratty white tank top, frayed denim hot pants, and a pair of wooden geta sandals. His outfit was now a 1:1 replica of the blonde girl printed on his shirt—or more accurately, a carbon copy of Ame-chan's outfit.
"Why the hell am I dressed like this?!" Toma shrieked in panic, staring down at his exposed midriff.
"That is the active form of The Will of Ame! That Suppafuku is a direct physical manifestation of my everyday attire!" Ame-chan beamed with absolute pride.
"This isn't holy armor at all! This is the starter pack of a creepy hikikomori uncle who steals other men's wives in a trashy NTR drama!"
"Cease your nonsensical whining and catch her!" Ame-chan snapped, pointing furiously at the pickpocket who was already gaining serious distance.
Even though he was mortified by his own outfit, Toma didn't have a choice. That money was his literal life savings! He took off sprinting—and was instantly blown away by his own speed.
Every single step launched him forward faster than he could ever fathom! The wind violently whipped against his face, the scenery on both sides blurring into a smear of colors. But—
CRASH!
Toma smashed face-first into a street-side trash can because he literally had no idea how to hit the brakes! Garbage exploded everywhere.
"Hey, watch where you're going, you idiot!" a few startled bystanders yelled.
"My bad! Sorry!" Toma yelled, scrambling to his feet and blasting off again.
"Toma-kun! Control your velocity!" Ame-chan nagged, flying effortlessly beside him.
"I'M TRYING TO!"
The pickpocket was stupidly fast and agile. She cleanly vaulted over a dumpster, then scaled a copper wall-pipe with incredibly practiced movements. In the blink of an eye, she was already up on the rooftops.
"She knows parkour too?!" Toma gasped.
"You must ascend to the rooftops as well!" Ame-chan urged. "With the power of my Suppafuku, your jumping capabilities are astronomical!"
Toma hesitated. Jump onto a roof? That was three stories up!
But seeing the girl getting further and further away, Toma swallowed his fear. He sprinted full tilt, bent his knees, and launched himself upward with everything he had—
WHOOSH!
His body shot into the air! Way too high! Significantly higher than he intended! The wind roared in his ears, and a second later—
SMASH!
His foot clipped the edge of the roof tiles, sending him tumbling forward until he violently face-planted into a brick chimney.
"OW!" Toma groaned, picking himself up and rubbing a fresh lump on his forehead.
"You are not listening to me! Regulate your power output!" Ame-chan scolded, her tone a mix of worry and obvious amusement.
"It's not as easy as opening a candy wrapper, okay?!"
The pickpocket glanced back with a look of genuine shock, then immediately kicked her speed into a higher gear. She bounded from roof to roof with feline agility—her parkour was so flawless it looked like she was just jogging on flat ground.
Toma trailed behind her, but his movements were clunky and chaotic. He leaped toward the next roof using only half his strength—
CRASH!
—but he still managed to blast straight through a wooden billboard mounted on the edge! Splinters of an advertisement for ramen soup showered the streets below.
"Oh no! My entire livelihood, destroyed by a brat in a tank top?!"
"Sorry, so sorry!" Toma screamed as he kept running, not even glancing down to see the devastated expression of the billboard owner.
He jumped again, this time holding way back on his power—but he undershot it! His feet barely caught the ledge of the next roof. Toma’s weight started tipping backward, his arms windmilling desperately in the air.
"Kyaaaa! Ame-chan! I'm falling!"
"Pull yourself up! You possess the physical strength!"
With a frantic heave, Toma hauled his upper body over the ledge, practically swimming onto the tiles. The second he was up, he broke into a sprint again—but
WHACK!
A line of hanging laundry violently clotheslined him, tangling around his face and torso. Toma ran completely blind, frantically clawing at the damp clothes while trying not to lose his target.
"Dammit! Who the hell hangs their laundry way up here?!" Toma yelled in panic.
"You're the damn menace! Why are you trampling on my roof?!"
"Ah! My bad then—"
CRASH!
The absolute millisecond he peeled a wet shirt off his eyes, he plowed directly into a chicken coop.
"WHY IS THERE A FREAKING CHICKEN COOP UP HERE?!"
BRAWK-BRAWK-BRAWK!
Chickens exploded into the air in a flurry of absolute panic, a storm of brown and white feathers snowing down everywhere. Toma hit the deck, his face completely covered in feathers, while the coop owner screamed murder from a window below.
"HEY! YOU WRECKED MY COOP, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"
"Sorry! But zoning laws up here make zero sense!" Toma yelled, scrambling up and resuming the chase—though now he had a squad of extremely pissed-off chickens clucking aggressively on his tail.
Swish! Dash! Whoosh!
Toma and the pickpocket tore across the skyline of Hiho-mura, vaulting over venting steam pipes, sliding across slick balconies, and leaping over terrifyingly narrow gaps between buildings. The high-speed chase hugged the perimeter of Itokyo's colossal wall before looping right back toward the heart of the village.
The girl swung off a thick steam pipe bridging two rooftops and nailed a flawless parkour roll on the landing.
Toma tried to mirror her swag. He leaped, reached out, and caught the pipe—success! Except his grip strength was way too dialed up, and the metal pipe completely buckled under his fingers.
SCREEECH!
"Huh?"
PSSSHHH!
Scalding hot steam blasted directly out of the bent pipe, spraying Toma right in the face and sending him plummeting. Luckily, he crashed onto a lower roof, landing square on his ass in a deeply uncool sitting pose.
"Hot! Hot! Hot!" Toma frantically fanned his beet-red face.
"Focus, Toma! You are losing her!" Ame-chan warned, fluttering beside him and helpfully trying to fan his face with her hands.
Toma forced himself up and hauled ass again. Up ahead, the girl finally dropped off the roof and vanished into a narrow alleyway. Toma followed suit—and this time, he managed to stick the landing a bit better, even if his legs felt like jelly from the impact.
He snapped his head up. The girl was standing at the end of the alley, panting heavily. Right behind her was a towering, sheer brick wall with absolutely zero footholds.
Dead end.
He... actually kept up with me?! Konan panicked internally, staring at the weirdo in the crop top. I threw mad jukes back there! No Itokyo prep—nah, nobody period—is supposed to be that fast!
Her expression snapped from panic to lethal defense. Her hand darted into her brown leather jacket, pulling out a metallic glint under the moonlight.
SNIKT!
A switchblade. The blade locked into place, gleaming sharp with genuine malice.
"Back off, city boy!" Konan snarled low, pointing the blade at him, though her hand trembled just a fraction.
"Ame-chan, she's packing a literal knife!" Toma whisper-yelled in panic. He gulped. That blade was definitely sharp and definitely lethal. But she was holding his money.
"Relax! While in your active Suppafuku mode, you possess total immunity to bladed weapons!" Ame-chan replied breezily.
"Are you a hundred percent sure about that?!"
"Unfathomably sure! Now retrieve your funds!"
Mustering every ounce of fake courage he had, Toma took a step forward. "Give me back my money!"
"I said back the hell up!" Konan swiped the knife through the air as a warning.
But Toma was way too deep in to back out now.
"Hyaaa!"
With a reckless lunge, he closed the gap and grabbed Konan's knife-wielding wrist.
"Ow!" Konan winced.
Toma squeezed her wrist tight, forcing her grip to pop open.
Clatter!
The switchblade was sent flying, clanging loudly against the alley stones and skidding out of reach.
"Hand it over!" Toma yelled, swiping for the money pouch with his free hand.
But Konan wasn't going down without a fight. Even though she was scrawnier and shorter than Toma, she was a trained street rat. Her free hand instantly hammered down on Toma's arm, desperately trying to break his hold.
"Get off me, freak!" Konan shrieked, driving a vicious elbow straight at Toma's nose.
"Whoops! Missed me!" Toma reflexively ducked under the blow. But he didn't let go. He kept violently grappling for the coin pouch.
THUD!
They both tackled each other to the dirt, locked in a desperate tug-of-war. Their movements were clunky and messy—less like an epic battle and way more like two desperate amateurs wrestling in the mud. Dust kicked up everywhere as they knocked over stacks of cardboard and old rags.
"This is my cash!" Toma yelled, yanking on the bag.
"Finders keepers, scrub!" Konan roared back, viciously kicking at Toma's shins.
Toma nearly got bucked off, but he managed to snag her leg. Konan twisted her body like a gymnast and nearly broke free.
But the pouch slipped, tumbling into the dirt between them—and immediately, both of them launched into a panicked scramble to grab it.
"Let go!"
"No way in hell!"
Toma managed to pin Konan's wrist down again. Then her shoulder. Then her leather jacket. Then her other arm. He used his entire body weight to effectively put her in a full ground-lock.
"Finally, gotcha—"
"YO, THERE'S A HUGE ROACH ON YOUR BACK!" Konan suddenly screamed, her expression completely selling the terror.
"KYAAA?! WHERE?!" Toma instantly aborted the pin, jumping backward and violently thrashing around like he was undergoing an exorcism.
His hands slapped frantically at his own back, his eyes spinning as he searched for the phantom roach.
WHAM!
Konan didn't miss a beat. With lightning speed, she planted a brutal front kick squarely into Toma's stomach—launching him backward until his spine slammed hard against the alley wall.
"Ugh!" Toma wheezed, the wind totally knocked out of him.
Konan snatched the money pouch and bolted straight for a pile of scrap metal stacked against the wall. Her nimble fingers found every tiny crack and crevice, and she began scaling the sheer brick wall with absolutely staggering speed.
"YOU TRICKED ME, YOU LITTLE RAT!" Toma scrambled up, screaming in fury.
Konan was already halfway up the wall.
"Toma-kun! She's escaping once more!" Ame-chan shrieked in a panic.
"Ame-chan, what the hell do I do?!"
"Leap up and execute the Nudo-ken!" Ame-chan ordered, pointing at Konan who was about to crest the roof.
"Nudo-ken? Is that a special move?"
"Indeed! Nudo-ken is a martial strike that completely strips an opponent of their garments!"
"Strips their clothes off?!" Toma recoiled. "Isn't that, like, incredibly perverted?!"
"It is a profoundly sacred technique! Furthermore, this is about retrieving your stolen funds!" Ame-chan argued with absolute sincerity. "And most importantly—a naked person will prioritize covering themselves over fleeing the scene!"
Her logic... is actually completely flawless, Toma realized, nodding slowly.
Shaking off his hesitation, Toma had no other play. He squatted low and exploded upward with all his might.
WHOOSH!
His body rocketed into the sky—way, way up! He cleared several buildings in a single bound! The wind howled in his ears as the entirety of Hiho-mura shrank beneath him. For a fleeting second, Toma genuinely felt like he was flying.
Bro, this is literally the Dragoon's Jump skill from Final Fantasy! Toma thought, hyping himself up mid-flight.
THUD!
He touched down squarely on the rooftop—landing perfectly in front of Konan, who had just pulled herself over the ledge. Konan flinched, utterly shocked that Toma had teleported in front of her, and instantly tried to veer off and run.
Whoosh!
But Toma was way faster. He dashed and completely walled off her escape route.
"Ain't no way—"
"NUDO—KEN!" Toma roared, throwing a haymaker straight at Konan's cheek—
Boop.
His fist tapped Konan's cheek with feather-light gentleness—it wasn't a brutal punch at all, more like a soft poke. Toma had even dragged out the animation, leaning into a dramatic slow-motion finish, while Konan squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact with a pouting wince.
But the aftereffect—
POOF!
A blinding explosion of white smoke erupted from the point of contact, enveloping Konan's entire body like a blooming firework. The flash was so intense Toma had to shield his eyes.
When the smoke finally cleared, Toma opened his eyes and—
"KYAAAA! MY CLOTHES ARE GONE!"
Konan collapsed onto her butt on the roof, trapped in a state of absolute shock. Her hands immediately shot up to cover her chest—which was now only shielded by a black bra—and her crotch, which was clad only in striped panties.
The brown leather jacket, the black tank top, her cargo pants, her sneakers, even her damn socks—completely vaporized without a single trace. All that remained were her undergarments. And bizarrely, the black snapback cap with the sticking-out tongue graphic was still resting perfectly on her head.
Toma stood over her, striking a cheesy superhero pose—hands on his hips, chest puffed out, flashing a wildly exaggerated look of triumph.
"Surrender my coin pouch, O pickpocket maiden who hath been stripped bare!" Toma declared in a painfully fake heroic voice.
But Konan didn't bite back. Her droopy blue eyes were blown wide open, staring at something directly behind Toma with an indescribable expression—a raw cocktail of terror, awe, and profound religious devotion.
Toma frowned. Why is she looking at me like that?
Then it hit him. The light. A soft, golden-white radiance was spilling from behind his back, casting a silhouette so bright it was almost blinding.
Toma turned around. Ame-chan was floating right behind him, cheerfully hugging his head and neck from behind. But something was completely different—Ame-chan's usually transparent, ghostly body now looked distinctly real and solid. And the most striking detail was the white, ethereal sash draped around her body, flowing and undulating like living smoke in a breathtaking display of supernatural grace.
"Ame-chan, what happened to you?" Toma whispered.
"Whenever you channel my power, I become temporarily visible to the individual struck by my ability! That is why the young lady has been rendered speechless!" Ame-chan smiled radiantly.
Toma looked back at Konan. Sure enough—Konan wasn't staring at his heroic pose at all; she was gazing exclusively at Ame-chan, her eyes welling up with tears, her entire body trembling.
With agonizingly slow, reverent movements, Konan let the money pouch slip from her fingers. Then, her body moved on pure instinct—she dropped to her knees, bowing her head deeply until her hands touched the roof in a perfect, prostrating bow, exactly like someone praying at a sacred shrine.
"Goddess... Goddess Ame no Nuno..." her voice quivered, choking on overwhelming, uncontrollable emotion.
"Greetings, my sweet child!" Ame-chan floated closer, cheerfully tilting Konan's face up with a warm, maternal smile. "You can finally perceive my presence! And yes, I am the Heavenly Weaver Goddess, she who stitches the heavens and knits the earth, Ame no Nuno!"
Her voice was incredibly soft, yet it reverberated with a divine weight that fundamentally shifted the air around them—making the atmosphere suddenly feel overwhelmingly sacred and solemn.
Tears streamed freely down Konan’s cheeks. She shifted her gaze back to Toma, her eyes now burning with absolute conviction—staring at him like he was the long-awaited messiah. Meanwhile, Ame-chan floated back behind Toma and wrapped her arms around his neck again.
"You..." her voice hitched. "You really are the Chosen One... just like the prophecies said..."
"Yup!" Toma nodded, rigidly holding his superhero pose. "So hand over my cash!"
Toma pointed dead at the dropped coin pouch with absolute seriousness—completely oblivious to the deeply sacred, religious awakening currently happening in front of him.
Konan picked up the pouch with trembling hands, offering it up to Toma as if she were presenting a holy tribute at an altar. Her head remained bowed in reverence.
"The prophecies were real..." Konan whispered, her faith absolute. Her eyes looked up at Toma, shimmering with profound hope. "The one guided by Ame no Nuno, the Heavenly Weaver Goddess..."
"Tch, stop trying to over-dramatize your mugging!" Toma grumbled.
He reached out to finally reclaim his bag of silver, but right before his fingers grazed the fabric—
TWEEEEET!!!
"HEY! WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS GOING ON UP THERE?!"
The booming voices from the street below made all three of them jump.
"They're the ones causing all that racket on the roofs!"
"I BET YOU DEVIANTS ARE COMMITTING INDECENT ACTS, AREN'T YOU?!"
"HOW DARE YOU PARADE AROUND BUCK-NAKED IN PUBLIC!?"
Toma peeked over the ledge. Down on the street stood a squad of men decked out in dark green uniforms, tall hats, double-breasted trench coats, and carrying wooden batons.
"Uh, who are the hall monitors?" Toma squinted. "They look exactly like those Victorian London cops I saw in an anime."
Meanwhile, all the color instantly drained from Konan's face. Her eyes blew wide open in sheer, unadulterated terror.
"OH HELL NO! IT'S THE NUNO-GUN!"
Without a second thought, the practically half-naked Konan shot to her feet, grabbed Toma's hand in a vice grip, and yanked him hard.
"RUN!"
"Huh? Hold up—" Toma didn't even have a split second to grab his pouch before Konan was physically dragging him across the roof.
The heavy bag of coins was left sitting completely abandoned on the tiles, tragic and forgotten, as its rightful owner was forcefully abducted by a half-naked pickpocket.
"MY MOOOOOOONEY!!!"