[color=c4df9b][h3][center]Hiroto Chiba[/center][/h3][/color]

A giant wearing the face of a demon walked the streets of Sakanoshita. Some regarded him with fear and suspicion, either because of his height, his blood-red eyes or for the oni mask that hid his mouth behind a rictus grin. Others greeted him warmly, smiling at his approach and calling out to him like an old friend. It was always the same when Hiroto went on his rounds; there was a stark difference in reaction between those that knew him and those that didn’t. The former found him intimidating, while the latter knew he was anything but. Normally the former would bother him, make him feel self-conscious in his own skin. Normally he would stop and talk to the latter, make sure they were okay or just catch-up on their lives. Today though he was too distracted with his thoughts to do either.

There was a stirring of trouble in the air, a hint of violence soon to come, and it had Hiroto worried. Word on the street was that the Forgotten had been poking around the area more than they usually did, their enforcers being spotted more frequently; the gang, [i]rival[/i] gang he reminded himself, becoming more brazen in the way they blatantly trespassed into the Kurosagi’s Anzen Chitai. He already knew that or course, because Tsukiyama already knew, but people were talking about it and it was Hiroto’s job to listen to their concerns; some were worried about what it would mean for them if fighting broke out, most were ambivalent, some were even excited. All were thinking the same thing though; the area they lived in might be changing hands soon.

The Kurosagi’s presence had been good for them the past few years, but the residents here all knew the truth. Nothing ever lasted long in this city, especially not the gangs. Whatever the outcome was, things were about to change.

Frankly, if it did come down to a war between Kurosagi and the Forgotten, Hiroto wasn’t too worried about the outcome; not for himself or the other members of the gang at least. They were strong. It would mean more hardship for the residents however and that was something he wanted to avoid. They’d tried to make this Anzen Chitai a place where people could be safe after all, place that was a safe haven from the gangs that controlled every other part of the city; except for the fact that this too was technically gang territory and that people like the Forgotten still felt they could wander freely here. No safe haven at all really, but it was still a better place to live than most other neighbourhoods in Sakanoshita and he would like to keep it that way.

If he had known about places like these back when he lived on the streets he might have been to avoid trouble, but he hadn’t and he didn’t and now he was here. There were other children, other orphans like him that needed a place to go and the Kurosagi were providing that. If the Forgotten messed that up, then even if they won and all survived then they would have lost the thing that mattered most to Hiroto.

His thoughts carried him all the way back to the bar, navigating his way back now that his rounds were done for the night. The less commercial parts of Sakanoshita were a maze of dark narrow alleys at times, but he could always find his way by just using the neon signs on the sides of buildings as landmarks to guide his way. It was really the only way to find your way around in the deeper parts of the city; not like anyone knew the street names around here, if they even had any, but the neon was ever present. Each building front a unique canvas of pinks and blues and yellows. 

It felt like neon was the districts lifeblood at times, like it ran on the stuff; pretty colours flowing through every street and every building like red flowed through the veins of a body. Like if he cracked the pavement beneath his feet it would begin to weep fluorescent liquid. Something alive yet artificial at the same time.

He stooped as he stepped through the door of the bar, ducking his head low so that he could walk through it at all. Inside it was the usual hive of activity, a mix of music and patrons laughing and cheering and talking. Hiroto walked through it all as carefully as he could, slipping through the crowd with an ease that belied his size as he made his way to the back of the building so he could make his way down to their base of operations. He stopped at only one point, to look at the fresh cracks in the concrete floor; Hiroto turned and caught the eye of a bartender, who saw where he was looking and simply nodded.

[color=c4df9b]“Dammit.”[/color] She’d been fighting in the bar again.