Reiji's days in Nishi-Tokyo followed the same monotonous rhythm, each one blurring into the next. The constant drone of traffic, the endless sea of people, and the ever-present weight of survival defined his world. Nishi-Tokyo was not the glamorous cityscape that people imagined when they thought of Tokyo. It was a place where dreams were often swallowed by the cracks in the pavement, where the line between survival and despair was thin as thread.
At sixteen, Reiji Hayato or as he called Reiji had already seen more of the city's underbelly than most would in a lifetime. As an orphan, he'd learned early on that he could depend on no one but himself. His parents had disappeared under circumstances he barely remembered, leaving only vague flashes of a happier time—a time when he didn't need to constantly look over his shoulder or sleep with one eye open. The orphanage had been a temporary shelter, but once he was old enough, they sent him into the world with little more than a pat on the back and a few yen to get by.
Now, Reiji spent his days drifting between odd jobs, trying to scrape together enough money to eat and pay rent on the dingy apartment he called home. It wasn't much—a tiny, one-room space with peeling wallpaper and a flickering lightbulb that never seemed to stay on for long—but it was his. In a world where he had nothing, the apartment was the closest thing to stability he could cling to.
On this particular day, Reiji was making his way back from a late shift at a convenience store. The sun had long since set, and the city was bathed in the neon glow of streetlights and the flashing signs of shops that lined the streets. His body ached from hours of standing behind the counter, but the worst of it was the gnawing hunger in his stomach. He had skipped lunch to save what little money he had left, hoping that tomorrow would bring more opportunities to earn. But deep down, he knew it was just another day in the same endless cycle.
As he turned into an alleyway, a shortcut he often took to avoid the crowded main streets, a sudden sense of unease crept over him. He quickened his pace, but it wasn't long before he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind him.
"Oi, kid," a gruff voice called out, echoing off the brick walls of the alley.
Reiji didn't stop. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Thugs. They were always lurking in the shadows, preying on anyone who seemed vulnerable. Unfortunately, Reiji fit that description all too well.
The footsteps grew closer, and Reiji could feel his heart racing in his chest. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of three figures—each bigger and more menacing than the last. Their faces were hidden in the dim light, but their intent was clear.
"Didn't you hear me?" the voice repeated, sharper this time. "We just wanna talk."
Reiji knew better. He'd seen what happened when they "just wanted to talk." He wasn't about to end up as another victim in the backstreets of Nishi-Tokyo. Without a second thought, he broke into a sprint, weaving through the alleyways with the kind of practiced ease that only came from years of living on the streets.
"Get him!" one of the thugs shouted.
The chase was on. Reiji's breath came in ragged gasps as he darted around corners and vaulted over trash cans, his eyes scanning for any possible escape route. The adrenaline pumping through his veins dulled the pain of his sore muscles, but he knew he couldn't keep this pace forever.
As he rounded another corner, his eyes locked onto a metal fire escape hanging just above him. Without hesitation, he leaped up, grabbing onto the rusted ladder and pulling himself up with all the strength he could muster. The thugs skidded to a halt below him, cursing as they realized they'd lost their target.
"He's up there!" one of them growled, but by the time they reached the base of the fire escape, Reiji was already halfway to the roof.
Panting heavily, Reiji pulled himself over the edge of the building and collapsed onto the cool concrete, trying to catch his breath. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the starless sky, his chest rising and falling as the reality of the situation set in. It wasn't the first time he'd been chased, and it wouldn't be the last. But each time, it chipped away at his resolve a little more.
After a few minutes, Reiji sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow. His mind wandered back to the memories that haunted him most. The ones of his parents, of a time when life had been different. He had been too young to understand the full extent of what had happened, but one thing had stuck with him—the mansion. He didn't know why, but the image of that grand mansion, with its towering gates and lush gardens, was burned into his mind. It was a place from his past, a fragment of a life he could barely remember.
The mansion was the only thing that felt real to him anymore. Everything else was a blur of survival, of trying to make it through each day without falling apart. But the memory of the mansion was different. It called to him, pulling at him like an invisible thread. He didn't know why, but he felt like there was something waiting for him there—something that could explain the gaps in his memory, the unanswered questions that gnawed at him.
And tonight, as he sat on that rooftop, staring out at the sprawling city below, Reiji felt that pull stronger than ever.
He stood up, his eyes narrowing as he made a decision. He couldn't keep living like this—running from shadows, constantly looking over his shoulder. If there was a chance that the mansion held the answers he sought, he had to take it. He had nothing to lose.
With one last glance at the city, Reiji turned and began making his way down the fire escape. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and determination. He didn't know what he would find in the forest, where the mansion was hidden, but something inside him told him that this was the path he needed to follow.
Reiji slipped through the alleyways, moving with purpose now. He had lived in Nishi-Tokyo long enough to know the way out of the city without attracting too much attention. The outskirts were less populated, and as he made his way there, the bright lights of the city gradually faded behind him, replaced by the thick canopy of trees that marked the entrance to the forest.
He paused for a moment at the tree line, looking back at the distant glow of Nishi-Tokyo. It had been his prison for so long, but now, as he stepped into the shadows of the forest, he felt a strange sense of freedom. The city had never been his home—it had only been a cage.
The forest was silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves beneath his feet and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. The deeper Reiji went, the more the memories of the mansion surfaced in his mind. He could almost see it now, the grand gates looming ahead, the overgrown gardens whispering secrets of a forgotten past.
But as he walked, something else began to stir within him—a faint sense of dread. The mansion may have held answers, but it also held power. He could feel it in the air, a lingering presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
And yet, he couldn't stop. He was too far gone to turn back now.
As the trees thinned and the forest opened up before him, Reiji caught sight of something in the distance. There, shrouded in mist and bathed in the pale light of the moon, was the mansion. Its once-grand facade was now crumbling, overtaken by vines and time, but it was unmistakable.
Reiji's breath caught in his throat as he stared at it, his heart pounding in his chest.
This was it.
The mansion that had haunted his memories for so long.