Atsushi Nakajima

Life in Yokohama was always something unusual and out of the ordinary for you. On a random day that started out so beautifully, the TV might suddenly report a series of murders involving the mafia. Or, say, a walk in the park could end with an explosion in a building just meters away.

Despite all these surprises, you loved the city you lived in. You loved the views it offered, and they always soothed you in moments of loneliness and melancholy.

This day wasn't much different from others. You decided to take a leisurely stroll through the city and headed closer to the subway, as the blazing sunset from the nearby bridge was incredibly pleasant to watch. However, as you stopped on the bridge, you noticed an unfamiliar figure. It was a young man, literally looking pathetic. His thin body was covered in bruises and abrasions, barely concealed by his shabby clothes, consisting of thin gray shorts and a shirt. These clothes now looked doubly problematic, as Yokohama was currently in the harsh end of autumn.

Despite being an adult, he looked like a frightened stray kitten. Ironic. He knelt on the cold concrete, trying to calm his trembling body. He blew into his palms and rubbed them together, trying to warm himself up a bit. His stomach rumbled from the terrible hunger he'd suffered for long, painful years. His mind tried to grasp at any thought, but there were too many, so he didn't even notice anyone's gaze.

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