Shinjuku Prefecture, Tokyo, Japan—

My eyes remain fixated on the entrance of the bar as I sit, unmoving. The bustling streets below are illuminated by neon lights, making it easy to watch the unaware passerby from the rooftop. Minutes tick by, one by one.

The doors open once again, and my target emerges. I silently watch him laugh drunkenly with another man as they hobble their way down the street. Pulling the hood of my coat further over my face, I drop down. I land amongst the crowd nimbly like a cat. Upon seeing me, people apprehensively back off, until they notice my eyes. Then they frantically begin screaming and running, others frozen.

“Red Dragon!”

“Don’t look in his eyes! He’s a demon!”

The two drunken men hardly seem to notice the chaos around them, still laughing and carrying on, as I pull the gun from the holster. I call out, “Tetsuya, Shino.”

“Is impolite not to give your name firsh,” my target grumbles incoherently, turning to face me. Upon realizing the situation, he fumbles to pull a handgun from his half-buttoned business coat. “Ya  picked the wrong guy thish time, dragon bastard! You ain’t gettin’ me!”

Silently, I focus the sight on his forehead. The people running for their lives around me are of no consequence--it is just me, my target, and the crosshair I have mentally placed between his eyes. Before another word can be said he pulls his gun up and a shot rings out, echoing throughout the streets. 

But of the two guns in play, only mine has steam rising from the barrel. 

My target’s body drops to the ground and his friend falls to his knees next to him, screaming.

“Tetsuya! No! Damn you, Red Dragon! You’ll pay!” he screams, turning to me and brandishing a knife.

I holster the gun as he rushes me then mechanically block his attacks, knocking his hand away as he goes to stab me. Police whistles echo in the distance and I grab his wrist as he goes in for another attack. He cries out as I twist. I hear a crack as he drops the knife with a shriek. I kick it away before sending my fist across his face, knocking him onto the street. The whistles become louder. Time to go. 

“Do you have no remorse?! How much blood do you have to spill before you’re satisfied?! You’ll pay! We’ll make you pay!”

His screams fade away as I pick up the pace to avoid the cops. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before, time and time again. Perhaps one day they will get their revenge, put me out of my misery. But until then each passing day will remain just as the one before it. 

I quickly flee the scene, stripping my coat off once I am free of prying eyes and stuffing it in my messenger bag along with my gun. Placing the sunglasses over my eyes and a medical mask over my face, I make my way back onto more populated streets, the crowd around me none-the-wiser. Silently I walk, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, keeping my head down. It is as if I am invisible, as it should be, as it has always been.

After stopping by a convenience store to get my usual supply of randomly-selected instant noodles, I arrive at my apartment building. I notice one of my elderly neighbors struggling to carry her bags down the sidewalk. Before I can take another step, she drops one of her bags and the contents spill out onto the ground, oranges rolling in every direction. Silently, I go over, picking up the items from the ground.

“Oh, thank you so much, Sawada-san,” she says, as I place the items back into the bag. It still feels weird being called by that name, but that is what the residents know me as. “I guess I need to invest in a wagon or something now that I’m getting older. Oh, how is night school going?”

I take her bags from her, letting her lead the way as she shuffles to her door. “It is good.”

She gives me a smile. “You don’t get out much except for school. Have you still not made any friends yet?”

“No,” I state. She always asks the same things. I am not sure if she is worried or senile.

“You really should get out more while you’re young and meet people,” she tells me. “You might meet a cute girl. Wouldn’t that be nice? I would love for you to bring a girl over.”

I doubt a girl would think that would be nice, or anyone for that matter. She opens her door and I set her bags inside for her. “Thank you again Sawada-san. Good luck with school.”

Nodding once, I shut her door before heading up the stairs to my apartment. After I remove my shoes and sunglasses, I clear an obstacle course of dirty clothes and empty noodle cups before reaching the main room. Kneeling, I empty the contents of my grocery bag onto the table after clearing a spot amongst more old instant noodle cups.

Then I get up to boil water. For a brief second, I catch my reflection on the side of the teapot and my eyes dart away without even thinking. As it heats up, I go into the washroom, dousing my hands with soap and wash them as I stare at the wall before me, the only sound being running water. There are lines along the wall in a rectangular shape where the mirror used to be and a small patch of dried plaster directly in the middle.

The kettle starts to whistle and I quickly dry my hands. I mindlessly choose a random cup, pour the hot water in, then set it aside for the noodles to soften. As I wait, I continue to stare silently at the table, time unmoving.

Snap. I break apart a new pair of cheap, disposable chopsticks and sloppily press my hands together as if in prayer. “Itadakimasu.”

I eat in silence. The same flavors again. It is less than satisfying. Just something to ease the hunger pains for now. I raise the cup to my lips and slurp up the last of the salty broth and funnel the stray noodles into my mouth. 

My phone begins to buzz, and I pull it from my pocket to find a message from Nori. I open it to read, “Meet at the seventh location.”

A strange feeling forms in my gut. I already finished an assignment tonight. Did something go wrong? I did everything like usual. There should not have been any issues.

The weight in my chest only seems to increase as I make my way to meet with him. I glance up as I turn down an alley and spot a man leaning against a wall in a brown trench coat reading a newspaper, a trail of smoke lingering up. Currently, there is no one else around. As I go over to him, he takes a long drag before folding the paper and tucking it under his arm.

“It’s a runner. He plans to leave the country tomorrow, so it needs to be done tonight,” he says, handing me an envelope, and turns away. “Master wants to see you when it is done.”

“I understand,” I say, stuffing it in my pocket, the weight on my chest increasing. “What does Master want with me?”

He pauses before shrugging. “No clue. Probably something to do with your territory.”

At that, we go our separate ways. I find a discreet spot and pull out the envelope. Inside is a sheet of paper, like always. I take it out and read the words scrawled across it, “Bando, Goro”. Underneath, an address and photo are attached. Once I have it memorized, I rip it to shreds, throwing it in a nearby trash can.

With my sights set, I readjust my hood and head out. I keep my head lowered as I follow the less populated paths. It only takes a little over an hour to arrive at the address that was listed. It is a rather large estate, surrounded by walls.

Once I find a discreet spot, I set the bag down and open it up, taking out the long black coat and pulling it on as I throw the sunglasses and phone inside. Then mechanically I pull out the gun holster, strapping it to my leg. I toss the bag aside in some bushes, making a mental note of where to retrieve it.

Then I take a running start at the wall and easily make my way up. Quietly I land and hunch over to survey the grounds. There are a few guards positioned around, so I sneak through the shadows and make my way to the innermost building.

After moving silently through the estate I spot two people standing guard in front of a building. This is the only guarded door I have come across. There is no other way in, so I reach into my coat, taking two knives from their holsters. Swiftly, I throw them, one right after the other and the guards drop. Once I enter the doors, there sits a man in the middle of the floor, wearing a dark blue kimono. As far as I can tell, he is alone. What a strangely easy mark considering his status.

As I lift my gun he turns and sees me, cocking an eyebrow. His odd fearlessness puts me on high alert. “You are the Red Dragon,” he says and tilts his head a bit. “So, it’s true about your eyes. Interesting.”

I find myself reaching up to tug the hood down over my eyes, though it is pointless. “You have been marked as a runner from Master’s Domain,” I tell him. 

“She sent her lap dog to kill me, is that it?” he mutters. He balls his fists in his lap. “That crazy bitch wants me to give her all my money, not to mention my men, and pledge my allegiance to her cult. I refuse to become a puppet!”

Silently, I take aim once again.

“I have one question for you, Red Dragon,” he says. “What is it you value?”

His question is foreign to me. Why would he ask such a thing?

“I can give you a lot of money if you walk away right now,” he says with a smirk and a cold gleam in his eye. 

But my countenance is unwavering. “You will die tonight,” I tell him, and he snickers.

Does he not fear for his life? His unusual confidence makes me more and more anxious and I survey the room once again.

Suddenly, I feel a pinch in my shoulder. I quickly reach up and pull a dart from my body. What? Where did it come from? Before I can look back my hand goes numb, and the dart falls to the floor along with my gun. Everything begins to sway. Bando sneers, chuckling. He was expecting me. How is this possible?

My vision becomes fuzzy as I watch the floor get closer and closer, inevitably hitting my head. My stomach churns. This is not good. Master is going to be furious.

I hear multiple footsteps approaching . “Do we shoot him now, Boss?” someone asks.

“Idiot! If we kill that psycho’s pet and she finds out, she’ll kill us!” I hear Bando say.

My body feels heavy, and everything is blurry. My head is full of fog and it is becoming harder to breathe. My mind refuses to cooperate as I try to evaluate all my options. Is this it? Is this where it all ends? I am unable to even move even a finger.

Someone pulls my hood back, but I can’t make out their faces as everything has become fuzzy shapes and dull colors. “Damn. Can’t believe the Red Dragon is just a kid.”

“Quick! We have to get him out of… … was never here…”

“Take… China…?”

“No… buy… ‘rica…”

It feels as if I only batted my eyes before I realize I am engulfed in water, the salt biting at open wounds in my flesh. My body feels as though it is being ripped to shreds and I can taste blood in my mouth. Deeper and deeper I go, and it keeps getting darker. I watch the light above fade, yet I have no strength to fight back. Perhaps I do not want to.

Soon, I am engulfed in darkness.