Chapter Text
***
The deserted parts of Yokohama at night freak Atsushi out.
To start, the darkened streets and empty alleys were deserted. A proper ghost town. No proof of anyone living there–not a single bit of the thick layers of dust and grime seemed to be out of place.
It was practically untouched, like everyone and anyone living or working here up and left, disappearing with their possessions.
“This whole city block’s been unoccupied for years, Atsushi.” Kunikida reassured him firmly, trying to ease the paranoia the younger man obviously felt. “You know that.”
“Then what are we still doing here?” Atsushi looked in front of him at Yosano, who was trailing a finger down an old brick wall’s Port Mafia markings on the side of an unit. That was another thing he hated about this part of Yokohama: the extremely old buildings that used to belong to the Port Mafia. It was unsafe not knowing what had happened here and added to the anxiety he knew he was feeling.
Kunikida let out a sigh. He’d gone over this multiple times; Atsushi didn’t like the idea of them stopping to search every shop and unit in this part of the city, but he was outvoted two-to-one.
“It was a whole city block of Port Mafia territory,” he repeats from memory, just like he's been doing throughout the entire argument. “It was an unqualified part of the city that the mafia claimed as a district of their own. Although no one’s here now, there might still be important information we can get that was left behind about future plans or inside intel on the existing mafia.”
“Yeah, except the mafia got revised like 10 years ago,” Atsushi sasses. “You and Yosano may as well be the only ones that wanted to come here for old information on the dead port mafia leader. What are the chances that anything important wasn’t wiped out beforehand?”
“Katai said that in this area we’d find documentations and–”
“Tayama-san hasn't been outside of his office for a decade! What if there’s nothing left behind!?”
“Atsushi! We cannot just leave this behind. We were scheduled on this mission and it’s on my timetable. This could be extremely beneficial to the agency if we can get any kind of useful data on the Port Mafia currently!”
“Yeah! From old information about a mafia that’s been completely changed and is even in a partial alliance with us! If we were back ten years in time maybe we could get some use out of this, but we’re not, so there.” Atsushi pouts and crosses his arms, turning to face away from Kunikida.
Kunikida sighed and deflated in a way that made Atsushi’s heart tear a little. He knows how much Kunikida cares about his ideals, schedule and loyalty to bettering the agency. And judging from what they’ve already seen so far in this craphole tucked away somewhere in Yokohama, the chances are pretty slim that they’ll find anything of value.
“Atsushi! Kunikida!”
They both turned to see Yosano smirking by the side of a wealthy, dark coloured building, waving them over to get their attention.
“What is it, Yosano-san?” Atsushi called back. She walks back over toward them both.
“This is one of the older mafia executive bases,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “If there were any records or plans, they’d be kept somewhere here.”
“Seriously?” Kunikida straightened back up and barged into the building before Atsushi could stop him. Yosano smiled and followed behind him.
Atsushi deflated with a sigh and followed them. He’d already prepared and rehearsed himself for the disappointment on their faces when they’d find nothing here-
“Mafia records!” Kunikida called out, interrupting Atsushi’s train of thought by loudly opening cupboards and draws. Inside, Atsushi can see dozens of full filing cabinets and abandoned desks, each covered in folders and files labelled with the mafia logo. “Here’s members… threats… finances… and-”
His hands fly up to his glasses to push them back up his nose, and his face stretches into a wide smile. Atsushi glanced into the drawer he’d opened to see clumps and clusters of planners and event timetables.
“Schedules,” he said gleefully, and extended an arm to take one out carefully. Yosano was across the room looking through medical files and history on the old members of the Port Mafia. Atsushi found this behaviour irrational. Any worthwhile injuries they would have had would’ve been healed or have killed the individual by now, but he remembers her always going on about the advantages of knowing someone's medical history.
Kunikida pulled out an old chair from a nearby desk and rolled it over in front of the cabinet as he dived into it, searching through the years and themes of each planner. Atsushi looks back and forth between him and Yosano: neither agency member seems to want to head back any time soon.
“Guess I’ll go, uhh…” he stepped back pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go take a look around the rest of the street.”
Yosano hummed in acknowledgment but neither of them looked up at him as he left, both too stuck into absorbing any and every piece of information they could to be bothered. Atsushi frowns; he’s used to it by now, having the other agency members get really into detective things he doesn’t really understand all that well.
He walked out of the old doors and onto the street, peering into other units and across car parks along the way. He eventually saw a sign for a library.
‘It’s as empty and ruined looking as the rest of the city block.’
Atsushi was starting to consider that, back when all around here was inhabited, it was probably hierarchical to a certain point. From where he was, he could see the further the street went along the more dingy and decrepit the structures got; and not from age.
Back about 20 metres was probably the nicest lot of buildings, whereas down the road –the one closer to the properly inhabited slums of Yokohama– had to be just a bit more than a glorified rubbish dump. Glancing past a few buildings he could see an extravagant looking building with countless floors.
He could make out some store names on banners that read ‘Bathhouse.’
He turned back and continued strolling down the road. Only once he spotted the seaside port units did he realise that even though there was hierarchy, the wealthier buildings were quite extravagant. He noted there were old stray dog statues covered in moss decorating the street entry ways and side alleys.
Atsushi stood at the back of the street and turned to see the sun’s reflections line up with the water's horizon – and the subsequent beams of light that coloured clouds pink and orange.
He turned back toward the way he came, where Kunikida and Yosano were, gazing at the shadows that stretched down the road and across the city as they started to grow. He really would prefer not having to find his way back to the old mafia base alone and in the dark, so he decided that it’s time to head back.
As he headed back, he took another path to cut some walking time. He turned the corner and the elaborate bathhouse came into view. Tempted, he walked over and stood on the arched soribashi that goes over to the entrance.
He leaned over the handrail and gazed down the steep bridge over the deep down train tracks it towered over.
“What are you doing here?”
Startled, Atsushi spins around. Staring down at him was another boy, presumably slightly older than him, who was most definitely not there ten seconds ago.
He was wearing clothes that definitely did not belong in this times fashion: a very fancy looking dress shirt -almost a blouse- covered in ruffles and some really weird ruffled neck thing. On top of that he’s wearing a really long shiny black coat.
‘Just a little bit over the top?’
“I asked,” he snarled, “What are you doing here ?”
Atsushi shuffled back a bit. “Hey, I’m just looking around,” he held up his hands in surrender. “Surely that's not some unforgivable crime is it? I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s not a crime. Because.. well, uhh…you know, this place is, like, incredibly abandoned.” Atsushi furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to look up at the older boy. “Actually, now that I think about it, why are you here?”
The boy curled in on himself a bit, his eyes flashing around them both anxiously. He rushed out a hand at Atsushi, his hair shadowing his face, and Atsushi can’t help but flinch back.
‘This guy is a bit full on.’
The boy takes him by the shoulder and looks him in the eyes–and jeez, they’re the dullest grey he's ever seen. “Listen to what I say very carefully.” he said sternly, grip tightening on Atsushi’s shoulder. “This is no place for humans, especially not stupid ones like you–not at sunset. Leave, run, now, before the lanterns are lit.”
“Wait,” Atsushi said, staring dumbfoundedly at the boy. “What..?”
He is shaken aggressively by the shoulder. “Are you deaf? This place is for those who have passed on–the spirits, not you. Get back to the main freeway you came, quickly !”
“The freeway–?”
The boy shoved him back and turned him around, swiftly raising an arm to gesture to the long road, his finger pointing past where Kunikida and Yosano are. “Yes. The road and then the freeway. Now run!” He urgently yelled with a voice that is filled with dreaded undertones that Atsushi just can’t ignore.
***
The setting sun would normally be a source of comfort for Atsushi; he always felt safer knowing he could see the moon and feel the buzz of Beast Beneath the Moonlight, his ability, under his skin.
Not tonight, though.
Something in the air changed as he made his way down the road, eyes scanning for the old Port Mafia base. The sun was already halfway under the horizon, its last few lights shining out in beams across the water.
And then suddenly, the city came to life.
Atsushi bit down on his lip hard to avoid screaming when the lanterns started to flicker around him, even though the street was barren mere seconds ago – with no one to light them, mind you. The dead silent city started becoming a whole less dead; he could hear the whispers, the sliding of doors and windows being opened, the sounds of footsteps on pavement and unintelligible murmuring growing louder.
Shops and stores started to open and light up from the inside, and when Atsushi looked into the windows, he could see stationery and furniture being moved about.
And, just because he has the absolute worst luck, the spirits start to materialise.
Atsushi’s never been a huge believer in the Spirit Realm. Back at his orphanage, there were no spirit stories because there was no reason to be afraid of something so unreal when you lived among much scarier figures who could and had harmed you. But here, in crime ridden Yokohama?
These spirits were very real–and very terrifying.
They were all weird shades of grey blobs and none of them seem to have a real figure. Or, if they did have any figure to them, they didn’t stay the same for long. They melted and merged out of thin air and rose out of the shadows on the street, and Atsushi had to duck and turn and weave himself through the undead crowd to avoid running straight into or through them.
They all had no shape and were colourless, and he did not want to find out what would happen to him if he had the luck to come into contact with them.
The worst part was that they all had eyes. He couldn’t tell if they had arms or legs or tails or any other limbs – but he knew for sure they had eyes.
Atsushi almost sobbed in relief when he finally reached the abandoned mafia building. If he could just get to Yosano and Kunikida…they could lead him out of the deserted mafia territory and escape. They’ll grab whatever important files they need and escape this horrible spirit city.
Soon, the building started coming into Atsushi’s view. He skidded to a stop in front of the doors to find them thrown wide open just as he reached them. The lanterns were fully lit now–flames no longer flickering on and off from the excess fire, flooding the street with warm orange light.
Atsushi tumbled through the doorway and down the hall and into the office and–
He stopped dead in his tracks.
The very first thing he saw was a german shepard wearing Kunikida’s glasses sitting in the chair he was previously seated at and drooling on the files Kunikida was looking through earlier. Atsushi looked to his left and saw an elegant dalmatian that had Yosano’s dainty butterfly hairpin clipped onto one of its ears.
The second thing he saw was the blob shaped spirit leaning over them both. It was strange – a shapeless limb raised in the air like it’s about to hit them both. Clutched tight in its ‘hand’ was a chain.
A horrible understanding hit Atsushi and he stared in horror as the spirit brought down the chain.
It hit both of the dogs at the very same time. The dalmatian cried out, growling and baring its teeth at the abuser and Atsushi took a step back.
The spirit looked up quickly, its eyes sharply glaring into Atsushi’s own.
Atsushi isn’t proud of it, but he sprints away.