Liars

---April 19, 2016

---At Shibuya Tokyo, Japan

Ryujin moved cautiously through the shadows, his eyes scanning the dimly lit interior of the warehouse on 3rd and Pine. The air was heavy with dust and the faint smell of rusting metal. In the center of the room, a lone figure stood under a flickering light. Ryujin recognized him immediately and smirked.

"Kenji..." Ryujin said, his voice echoing slightly.

Kenji turned, his expression a mix of surprise and caution. Before either could speak further, the scene shifted back three years in Ryujin's mind.

---June 1, 2013

---At Shinagawa Tokyo, Japan

Kenji was thrown out of a door by a towering figure, almost six feet tall. The brute sneered, ready to deliver another blow.

Without thinking, Ryujin grabbed a frying pan from a nearby counter and smacked the guy in the back of the head. The sound of metal against skull was sickening, but effective. The giant crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

But it wasn't over. Ryujin turned to see more members of the rival gang closing in. He didn't hesitate. With a fierce determination, he launched himself at them. Fists flew, and the air was filled with the sounds of grunts and the impacts of blows. Ryujin's thoughts narrated the memory.

(Kenji was new back then. I had to supervise him, teach him the ropes.)

Ryujin fought with a ferocity that surprised even him, taking down one opponent after another. Kenji, regaining his composure, joined in, and together they managed to hold their ground. After what felt like an eternity, the remaining rivals fled, leaving Ryujin and Kenji battered but victorious.

(He was a quick learner, but the boss was ruthless, always threatening Kenji's family to keep him in line.)

Ryujin's memory ended with the two of them standing amid the wreckage, panting and bruised, but alive.

---Present day...

The memory faded as Ryujin's focus returned to the present. Kenji's eyes were hard, but there was a flicker of something else—maybe gratitude, maybe resentment.

"Long time, Ryujin," Kenji said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Ryujin replied, his smirk fading. He took a step forward, wincing as pain shot through his injured shoulder. He reached out, gripping Kenji's shoulder for support.

Kenji's gaze didn't waver. "We've got unfinished business."

Ryujin nodded slowly. "We do. But first, let's talk about why you're here."

Ryujin's eyes narrowed. "I need help getting out of Shibuya. Things got...complicated."

Kenji's expression softened slightly,

"You always were good at finding trouble. But fine, let's hear it."

As they began to discuss their plans, the tension between them was palpable, a mix of past loyalty and present distrust. They moved cautiously, exiting the warehouse together. The moment they stepped outside, the sound of a police siren pierced the night, and the flashing lights cast eerie shadows against the buildings.

"Sh*t..."

Ryujin muttered, panic flashing in his eyes.

Kenji didn't hesitate. "This way."

he said, while immediately changing directions with Ryujin immediately following kenji towards a nearby alleyway. They moved quickly, the adrenaline masking Ryujin's pain momentarily.

The alley was dark and narrow, the perfect escape route. They ducked into the shadows, pressing themselves against the walls as the police car sped past.

Ryujin's breathing was heavy, his shoulder throbbing painfully.

"Thanks..."

he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Kenji nodded, his expression serious. "We're not out of this yet. Come on, we need to keep moving."

As they continued down the alley, the weight of their past and the uncertainty of their future hung heavily in the air, but for now, they had each other, and that would have to be enough.

---Meanwhile...

---April 22, 2016

---At Shibuya Tokyo, Japan

The white ceiling of the hospital room stretched endlessly above Takashi as he lay silently in his bed, the only sounds filling the space were the soft beeps of the heart monitor and the distant murmurs of conversation. As he stared up, lost in the stark blankness, his thoughts churned restlessly.

At a small table nearby, Aiko spoke quietly with the doctor, their voices a low hum.

"His vitals are stable now, and he's showing signs of improvement," the doctor was explaining in a measured tone.

"He should be able to go home in a few days."

Despite the reassuring words, Takashi's mind was elsewhere, his inner voice repeating a single thought with nagging insistence:

(He should be gone...)

The 'he' was Ryujin, whose shadow seemed to loom even here in the clean, sanitized safety of the hospital.

Aiko glanced over at Takashi, concern etched across her face. Catching her eye, he managed a weak smile, but it did little to mask the turmoil inside. The events at Café Harmonia haunted him, the unexplained silence in the news about the attack gnawing at him.

"He should be gone..."

Takashi murmured softly, almost to himself, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling as if he could find answers in its unblemished surface.

Aiko approached the bed, her expression softening.

"Takashi?" she prompted gently, trying to draw him out of his reverie.

"The attack... why isn't anyone talking about it?" he asked, the words tinted with confusion and frustration.

"It's like it never happened."

"Let's focus on getting you home first," Aiko suggested, her voice steady yet empathetic.

"We can try to figure this out together, okay?"

Takashi nodded slowly, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor punctuating the heavy silence that followed. The disconnect between what he had experienced and the world's apparent ignorance was disorienting, deepening the mystery that now enveloped his thoughts.

---Some time later...

Hours has passed by, Takashi lay back against his pillows, staring up at the white ceiling bathed in the sterile light. The room was silent except for the steady beep of his heart monitor. Nearby, Aiko stood by the door, preparing to leave.

"I'm just going to get some medicine for you. I'll be right back,"

she said softly, offering him a reassuring smile before shutting the door behind her.

Left alone with his thoughts and the remote control, Takashi flipped through channels, trying to find a distraction. His hand stopped as he reached a news channel where an interviewer was speaking with a police officer about the recent terror attack at Café Harmonia.

"Can you confirm the condition of the civilians involved in the incident?" the interviewer asked, her tone earnest.

The officer responded confidently,

"Fortunately, no civilians lost their lives in the incident, and all injured are currently recovering well in the hospital."

Takashi's eyes widened in disbelief.

"They're lying..." he muttered under his breath, a mix of frustration and anger building within him.

(Those damn liars. I saw it with my own eyes...)

As night fell and the hospital settled into a quieter rhythm, Takashi's room felt even more isolated, a small island amidst a sea of tranquil corridors. His mind churned relentlessly, replaying the scenes he couldn't reconcile with the official narrative.

When Aiko returned hours later, she found Takashi alert and agitated. The soft click of the door announced her presence, and she entered with a small bag of medicine in hand.

"Aiko, the news... they're lying about what happened..." Takashi blurted out immediately, his voice tense with frustration.

"I know," Aiko replied softly, setting the medicine on the nightstand.

"Let's take care of you first. You need to be strong. And then we'll figure this out together."

Takashi nodded, his eyes still troubled but grateful for her support. As the city outside whispered with the sounds of night, Takashi knew sleep would elude him. He was determined to seek the truth, no matter how deep he had to dig. The night stretched before him, long and uncertain, but his resolve was set.