Chapter One: Ryo

“Jeez, Ryo! That one was too close! We were almost caught!” A boy said, running out of a dark back alley in Tokyo.

“Calm down, Shuya. If I say we have it, we have it.”

Ryo raked a hand through his dark hair, sighing with relief.

“That was close though. Usually getting in and out isn’t so difficult. But security for these people is only getting tighter now that the soulless population is increasing.”

Shuya bent his knees to catch his breath; clearly he had been running at a relentless pace.

“Whatever, man. You owe me two pork buns for making my life so difficult today.” He rubbed his belly. “To Mrs. Satō we gooooo!” 

He outstretched his arms as the two walked off together in the pursuit of a well-earned snack. 

The walk from their starting point to their destination was quite long, moving from the wealthier semi-suburbs of Tokyo to the heart of the city, in a province that seemed relatively deprived. They stopped outside a glowing convenience store advertising two-for-one chocolate bars.

Hm, not bad, Ryo thought.

The familiar jingle of the door’s entrance bell rung throughout the small shop, and an old woman waited diligently behind an elevated desk smothered in newspaper clippings.

“Ryo, Shuya. I hope you haven’t been causing problems in the neighbourhood again,” said the woman.

“No, we haven’t, Mrs. Satō,” replied Shuya, which technically wasn't a lie. They weren’t causing problems in the neighbourhood. Not this one, anyways. 

Ryo skimmed his finger across the rows of chocolate bars that were neatly prepped alphabetically across the stall. His finger stopped at a ‘whippy dippy delicious’ bar.

“Hey, Ryo? If you’re getting chocolate, that’ll be part of my compensation too!” called Shuya, his fingers clutching the counter, eyeing the steaming pork buns behind Mrs. Satō.

Ryo rolled his eyes, and grabbed two bars off the shelf.

“Six pork buns please, ma’am,” said Ryo, laying the chocolate on the counter for Mrs. Satō to scan. 

“Six? Please tell me that’s three for you and three for me?” Shuya moaned, already knowing the answer.

“You greedy pig. These are for the other four, who are waiting for us while we get your dumb pork buns!” Ryo said, shoving Shuya gently.

“Whose pork buns are you calling dumb? Because mine are sacred!” he protested, hands on his hips as he defended his precious culinary palette.

Mrs. Satō said nothing, but her eyes flicked between the two boys, judging their antics with severity.

Ryo set the money on the counter and thanked Mrs. Satō, who watched the two boys squabbling over the bag of steaming buns as they left. She smiled. 

Ryo and Shuya made their way down various narrows of downtown Tokyo, the neon lights starting to fuzz with tackiness, and the electric lines between buildings increasing tenfold. The streets shone under the glow of the urban metropolis after a well-anticipated summer rain, the water dripping into the drain melodiously drumming with each of the boys’ footsteps. 

Stopping outside of a building that illuminated its overgrown wall vines with a faded neon, the two boys clutched the rail of a rusted set of stairs on the external rear of the building and began the ascent upwards. The climb was long as the building was fairly tall, but seemingly derelict, covered in fading white paint and aged stains. 

As they opened the door at the peak of the stairs, they were each greeted with a momentous punch to the gut.

“That’s for the close call,” the puncher said to Ryo as his stomach was pelted.

“And that’s for making us wait because of your stupid pork buns!” 

“They’re…not…stupid,” Shuya coughed as he doubled over, clutching his equally abused abdomen.

“Ease off, Mai. Ryo did his best. And you know how Shuya is with his pork buns,” a voice called from the dark.

“We just have a special connection, okay?” Shuya said, tears in his eyes as he stuffed his face with the doughy substance of the bun.

“Shut up, Makoto. Pork buns are no excuse for being late.”

“What’s all this noise? I could have sworn I said I was taking a nap.”

A tall man emerged, fluffing his hair as he stirred from an apparent slumber; his eye bags gave him away.

“Still tired, old man?” 

The once sleepy male now stared with his eyes wide open, clenching his fists as he eyed down the angry girl.

“Who’re you calling ‘old man’, Mai-Pai?”

He smirked as he watched her face sour even further.

“Mai-Pai? Are you kidding? It was one time, Kaito. One. Time.”

“I bet once was enough for that poor upperclassman…”

The girl grumbled at Kaito’s teasing as Ryo scanned the room, looking for one more.

“Where’s Ha-ji?”

The sound of a latch from another door on the right cued an entry. “Right here. Obviously.”

A teen who seemed younger than most of them appeared from the gloom, pushing his glasses upward as he stopped a timer on his watch. 

“Approximately 16 minutes and 25 seconds late, Ryo. That’s worse than last time.”

Ryo solemnly smiled at the man, knowing his observation was far from genuine disapproval. He counted them all, watching their faces, scanning for injury or displeasure, and gratefully, finding none.

“You’re all here.”