dispassionately warned, “The number of localized downpours has already surpassed last year’s historic high by a wide margin, and they are predicted to become even more frequent in July. When you go out, whether it’s to the mountains, the beach, or even just in urban areas, take sufficient care—” I needed a place where I could shelter from the rain and hopefully spend the night. There were summerhouses in parks and spaces under railroad overpasses, but other people had invariably gotten to them first. I’d been wandering the streets for more than two hours, wearing the heavy backpack, which had everything I owned in it, under my raincoat. It was after nine at night, and the comfortable department stores, bookstores, and CD shops where I could have hung out for a while were already closed. If I sat down by the wall at a train station or an electronics retail store, security guards immediately shooed me away. That left me with no options except finding a place to stay on the street, and there just didn’t seem to be anywhere available; on the other hand, going too far from the station made me uncomfortable, so in the end, I just kept going around and around the same area. As a result, this was the fourth time I’d passed through the gaudy lights of the gate to Kabuki-cho. I was getting seriously tired from all this walking, and my feet were numb. I was sweating, which made it muggy and super- gross under the raincoat. I was starving. “Excuse me.” Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around to see a police officer standing there. “You were walking around here earlier, too, weren’t you?” “Huh…?” “What are you doing here at this hour? Are you in high school?” I turned pale. “Hey, wait!” I heard a yell behind me. My feet had broken into a run before I could think. I sprinted through the crowd, without looking back. Every time I bumped into somebody, they swore at me. “That hurt, dammit!” “Go to hell!” “Stop it right there! Damn kid!” I ran past the side of a huge movie theater, heading for a place with fewer streetlights almost on instinct. Page 14 Goldenagato | mp4directs.com