Chapter 2: Moonlight sword
Up close, the situation looked even worse than it had from the cafeteria window. The girl was small, maybe fifteen, with intelligent eyes that darted between her attackers like she was calculating escape routes and finding none. Her school bag lay scattered on the ground, contents spilled across the concrete, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks that made something cold and angry coil in Haruto’s chest.
The three men surrounding her were definitely not students. The leader was maybe mid-twenties, built like someone who spent more time in street fights than gyms, with a scar running from his left ear to the corner of his mouth that suggested he’d lost at least one of those fights spectacularly. His two companions looked like standard hired muscle - all bulk and attitude, the kind of guys who enjoyed their work a little too much.
"Please," the girl was saying, her voice steady despite the obvious fear. "I told you, I don’t know anything about what you’re talking about. You’ve got the wrong person."
"Wrong person?" Scarface laughed, the sound like broken glass. "Little girl, you were seen at the Awakened incident in Harajuku last week. We have witnesses. You think we’re stupid?"
Awakened incident? Haruto felt something twist in his stomach. Jun’s conspiracy theories were starting to sound a lot less crazy all of a sudden.
"I don’t know what you mean," the girl insisted. "I was at home studying. You can check with my family-"
"Your family?" One of the muscle-heads chuckled. "We already did. Shame about the fire, really. Such a nice house."
The girl’s face went white, and Haruto felt his vision tinge red around the edges. These weren’t just bullies. These were something much worse.
"Hey!" The word erupted from his throat before his brain could stop it. All four pairs of eyes turned toward him, and Haruto suddenly realized he might have made a tactical error. "Leave her alone!"
Scarface looked him up and down with the expression of someone evaluating a particularly unimpressive insect. "Another hero wannabe? This doesn’t concern you, kid. Walk away while you still can."
Haruto stepped forward, his hands clenching into fists. He wasn’t particularly big or strong, just learned Judo for several years...
Haruto’s voice cut through the alley like winter wind, sharp and unforgiving. He stood silhouetted against the flickering neon of the distant streetlights, hands loose at his sides. His breathing was steady. His pulse? Calm.