Firebrand

Shinya caught the Gal (he’d learned her name was Miho) on a smoke break, bumming one from her. “Did you have anything to do with the Old Guy”

“Is that an accusation?”

“It could be a congratulations”

The silver-crowned man, whose name was Taro, was found dead that morning. Clearly, it was murder.

“How could I do that… to his face? I’m not even sure how it's possible”

Shinya nodded, embers drifting from his fingers. He had never seen a man die like that. He struggled to recognize it as human, let alone a corpse. The police swarmed the area, men in hazmat suits extracting samples from the mess. Interest quickly waned: there were no eyewitnesses to the slaying, and though it was never said, everyone thought the neighborhood was safer with Taro gone. Shinya wondered if he’d be the newest pariah, with Taro no longer being the target of the neighborhood’s concern and gossip. “Maybe I should say I did it, get some points from our neighbors.”

“For the Devil-May-Care attitude you portray, seems like you care a lot about what others think of you.

“I don’t care what they think,” Shinya assured. “But what they think does affect me”

The Gal looked at him incredulously, then smirked. “I think you have at least one fan.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before returning to her job. Her lips were warm and smelt of smoke, like a literal firebrand gave him a kiss. As he placed his hand to his cheek, for the first time he was scared. Now he needed to know if this was vigilante justice, or if anyone could be the next target.