Nanairogaoka, a city brimming with culture, art and opportunity. Late evening had hit, blanketing the area in a deep hue of purple whilst humans slept. Well, the humans who didn't need to work late, that is. The only thing circulating any sort of coolness around your downtown studio was the excuse of a fan provided by the company. It clunked and chugged, the only useful thing it could do being blowing the small, coloured tissue paper bows you had tied on. Not only that, but the heavy smell of coffee and fresh art paper reeked the place out. It was a special kind of smell, ever reminiscent of all the time you spent in the shop with your manager, Furuta Chey. Furuta was an extraordinary artist. An absolute hero to the kids in the area. Glancing at the pixie clock on the wall, it's plastic, pink hands seemed to shift slower than ever.
"I swear that clock hands move much faster in England." Tapping your pencil a couple of times, you followed the patterns on the wood table with your hazel eyes. Furuta observed this, sadness pouring into the man's heart. He knew how it felt to move away from your comfort zone, but this seemed like a different kind of sad. Like something was really playing on his employees mind. Especially catering to you, speaking in English, he felt a duty to shed some light on the underlying problem, whatever it was. After losing his own daughter many years ago, you were filling an empty space.
"Are you doing okay, Y/N-kun?" he appeared concerned, taking a noisy sip of his coffee in the hopes it would push down the lump in his throat. The strong smell stung your nose, along with the scent of art paper and ink. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem awfully tense this evening." Occasionally, you would put your own work out and take on freelance briefs. Kids in the area loved the shop, calling in almost every week. But there was no work to be done, and there was a regular customer who hadn't showed up. A young girl with a passion for drawing, she was shy and cute, coming in to see you every Wednesday, without fail. You always made her a cup of green tea and sat for a chat, until her mother came to pick her up when the shop shut. You would never let someone so young walk home by themselves anyway, even if the culture in Japan was different to that of the UK.
"Futara-sensei..." You were worried about Yayoi, the young girl who came by every Wednesday. Today was Wednesday and she hadn't showed up. It was 9:00pm now, far too late for a teenager to be walking around outside. It might have been possible that she simply had more important things to do, but you hadn't even seen her go past the window all day. "I'm worried about Yayoi-chan. She's only fourteen years old." Glancing over to the darkness outside, a deep shudder came over you. "And it's pretty dark out there now. I hope she got home okay." Nodding graciously, Futara agreed. His gentle voice was enough to calm anybody down.
"Ahhh, Y/N-kun. Please do not worry. I'm sure that she simply had a school club. Yayoi-chan is a clever girl after all." Checking his watch, the manager saw that it was way past your finishing time. "Speaking of which, you may go now. You've worked hard as usual. Arigato."
Bowing your head, you grabbed your coat and bag, waving as you headed off out.
"Goodbye, Futara-sensei!"
The city was strangely quiet. You could hear your footsteps clinking on the ground as you walked, the moon awfully large tonight as it loomed over the town. You weren't sure if it was supposed to be that size, but shrugged it off in your mind, since you were about five minutes away from your apartment. A strange sense came over you, like you were being watched. There didn't appear to be anybody around.
Assuming it was all in your head, you continued to walk. Staying focused in the ground, a flicker in colours alerted you. Coming to a halt to investigate the pavement, something shot in front of you out of the corner of your eye. You must have just been really tired. So tired you were beginning to see bouncing yokai in the street. That was all. Taking a step forward, with every intent to just remain blissfully ignorant to everything, something squelched under your foot, pushing it back. Removing your leg, a crystal ball sized sphere was just lying there. It was cyan in colour, shining under the light. You picked it up, feeling the smooth, rubbery texture of it. It felt quite heavy, but not in weight, more like in a spiritual, ghostly sort of way. Admiring it, you held it up to the moonlight, trying to make some sense of it. A small shiny signature glistened under the street lamps. It read a word you had never heard before.
"Akanbe..." Without warning the ground beneath you shifted, rendering you unable to move as the small ball grew over four times in size. The lamppost had a clown like face, staring down at you maniacally. Water fell from your eyes, the shock causing a massive issue with your speech.
"Akanbe!" it boomed. How wasn't anybody reacting? Was this a dream?
Meanwhile, Wolfrun was enjoying his collection of negative energy, content floating in the air. Emperor Pierrot was going to be so pleased. However, he was alerted to the fact that the word "Akanbe" had just been spoken somewhere in the city, and he was definitely not the person responsible.
