[color=A9A9A9][h2]The Sharehouse[/h2][/color][indent]
Iwao [i]had[/i] to be losing it if he was expecting a radio to sound out when it was rather decisively turned off. Nothing ominous or ordinary came out of the machine, and instead, his ears simply picked up the ordinary sounds of an empty house. The clock ticked, the faucet dripped, and old injuries seemed to throb in synchronization with it. His own room was quieter, but not by much. The traffic sounded infrequently outside, while the crows cawed frenetically, a flock scattering away in the last shades of evening. The walls were thin in the sharehouse, sound-proofing non-existent.

So he could clearly hear when the radio was turned back on, a distinct click sounding, followed by the garbling of voices as it changed frequencies. Did Sayuri head downstairs after all? Did Fumiko come back? From within his own room, Iwao couldn’t tell, but the program itself seemed normal enough. ‘Tenoroshi Tonight’, an evening news segment done by a Takahiro Tatsuya, reporting on new happenings around the city on June 15. The police investigating reports of gun shots heard in the Northern District. Another missing persons report, this time for a young man with black hair and square-framed glasses last seen in the Northwestern district. And on lighter news, a runaway goat from the local petting zone having escaped down the train tracks stretching from the Southeastern District to the Central District.

The youth was focusing this time. Paying attention. It was easy enough to remember that today was the 14th. A radio gaffe? Or something more?

Iwao would have to wait though. Through the thin walls of the sharehouse, he could hear loud steps going up the porch, followed by a door being thrust opened, then slammed shut. Someone was home.
[hr]
Sayuri’s message went unread.

Well, it wasn’t like that was all too uncommon. If Hiro was going to be so busy that he couldn’t even make it home for dinner, he wasn’t going to be able to immediately read and respond either. Or maybe he didn’t bother reading it because he was already home?
The walls were thin, after all. She could hear it too, the sound of a door opening and then closing downstairs, accompanied by the indistinct murmurs of the radio she thought had already been turned off.
[hr]
Fumiko and Otoya ran hard, and it wasn’t as if they needed to run far either. The skittering of the giant rat continued to dog them, but as they made the turn at the entrance of the alleyway, as they bounded up the steps of the sharehouse, wrenching the door open, the two both noticed that they were no longer being chased. The rat had turned the opposite direction that they had, nothing but a lump of black fur in the amber light of the streets now.

Except...if they narrowed their eyes, was that [i]another[/i] oversized vermin, pushing its form out from a storm drain to follow the first?

Fucking gross. Tenoroshi seriously needed pest control, huh?
[/indent][color=A9A9A9][h2]Western District[/h2][/color][indent]
[b]“What are you talking about?”[/b] Atsushi replied, a brow raised. [b]“I’m an Uber driver.”[/b]

The streets were empty, but the detective still obeyed speed limits and uncooperative traffic lights. The ride was comfortable, but the interior smelled of faded air freshener. One hung from the rearview mirror, shaped like a pine tree yet not smelling of either pine nor tree. A couple minutes passed before he replied, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. [b]“Did he have her shoes?”[/b]

The car pulled over to the side, one of the front wheels grinding up against the curb. Atsushi grimaced; he was a good driver when it came to following traffic regulations, but that was just about it. Outside, the neon sign of ‘Camera & Film’ buzzed like a mosquito, moths bouncing against the surface of the ‘lamp’.

He waited for Aya to exit before rubbing the stubble of his chin.

[b]“Department’s not gotten any reports about missing children. Careful on your way back, Aya.”[/b]
[/indent]