Night in Tokyo wasn't the same as anything he had seen before.
While the villages and towns he had been to became quieter and compact the further the night went along, Tokyo seemed to bloom further at night. The maze description Akuru had used in the morning was even more true now. A different maze to the morning, but still as daunting.
The rhythm that Akuru thought he had gotten used to now seemed to flip.
Kanae walked beside him. It didn't take much convincing to get her out exploring the city.
"Well," she continued as they walked by a deliciously scented market, "To scout out the mission area, we should definitely explore the city thoroughly. Also, definitely need to scout out places to eat. You never know what could be important."
"Exactly, it's reconnaissance," Akuru replied with a small grin, "I'm happy to hear that we're on the same page here."
"Of course, I am a very dedicated slayer," Kanae said, smiling, "I think the next dango stand we see might have some clues. We must investigate it, maybe take a few samples to truly confirm."
"I thought you already investigated well enough at the sweet shop we were at earlier, but as a dedicated slayer, I think it would be alright to compare it to another store," Akuru said.
Kanae laughed, a small, bright laugh.
They happened to stumble in front of a dango stall after a few minutes. It didn't look too busy as they both stood outside, they quickly ordered for themselves. Both of their mouths watering slightly at the sight of the sweet soy glaze covering the dango. The vendor handed it over to him with what Akuru interpreted as a flash of jealousy, but he was left confused as to why.
He didn't worry about it for too long; As Akuru took one and offered the other to Kanae.
He spoke up after taking a bite.
"Hmmm. This one seems safe. Afterwards, I highly recommend looking for something savory. You know to cover all bases."
"These Dango pass," she said, savagely biting into the dango. Looking over at him with satisfaction, "I guess we would be foolish to not at least check other types of food. Oh, the misery."
They walked, allowing the glow of the street lanterns to wash across their faces. Around them, Tokyo began to lay out its layers.
As they continued to walk, letting everything bathe them, a certain sound continued to get louder. They began walking towards it, arriving at a gramophone playing a waltz from inside a store. A few people seemed to gather around to listen to the music.
"Have you ever listened to a gramophone recording?" Kanae asked, cocking her head.
He looked over to where the music seemed to come from. It seems whatever was playing the music was called a gramophone. The word did sound familiar; maybe it had come up in passing during a conversation he had had before. How did it make music? he wondered.
"No," Akuru admitted, "Though hearing it in person has got me tempted to get one. I wonder if I could record music onto it?"
"You'll have to tell me if you ever get one," Kanae said with shining eyes, and Akuru considered how swiftly friendships had begun to evolve into little vows.
They wandered through streets flavored with the smell of fried croquettes and chestnuts on the grill.
They went by a book shop different from the one Akuru had been at this morning. With open windows onto the street, a clerk scribbling away by lamplight, peering through accounts ledgers.
"Is that poetry?" Kanae asked, looking up at a window full of verse.
Akuru looked over at the store, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the bookstore as he looked back at her questioningly. Basically, asking her if she wanted to go inside?
She nodded and stepped inside. Akuru followed.
Inside, they were engulfed by paper and dust, along with the scent of ink. The clerk looked up, then did a double-take when he noticed he had customers inside his store.
"Ah, yes, look around. We have everything you could look for here!"
Kanae almost skipped around the store, scanning through the bookshelves. Eventually, she found a text that she was interested in and quickly took it off the shelf, giving a quick smile to him. She paid the clerk as they both headed outside, the echo of the clerk wishing them a good night saw them out.
Akuru planned to buy nothing, and yet both of them walked away with something. Kanae had insisted they both purchase the same thing so that they could read it and then compare afterwards.
Both of them migrated over to the food centric part of the city. Hunger winning out for both of them, their gazes looked around the street, trying to find something that piqued their attention.
Akuru slowed his pace without quite realizing it, his attention pulled by the smells. Oil warming in iron pans. Soy sauce meeting heat. Fish, sweet and sharp, carried on the damp air.
Kanae noticed immediately.
Her steps faltered, then stopped altogether. She inhaled once, deeply, as if committing the moment to memory.
"…That's miso," she said with certainty, "And grilled eel. And something fried that probably shouldn't be fried but absolutely is."
Akuru followed her gaze to a narrow street branching off the main road. Paper lanterns hung low, their light warmer and dimmer than the newer streetlamps. The alley was lined with small eateries, wooden fronts, cloth noren swaying gently, hand-written menus nailed to posts. The sounds were softer here.
"This feels promising," he said.
Kanae clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward slightly, peering down the alley like a curious cat.
"Very promising. If we're thorough, we might be forced to test more than one."
Akuru gave her a look with a wide grin on his face.
"You know, I'm starting to think you're trying to turn reconnaissance into a feast."
"I would never," she replied serenely, already walking forward.
They chose a small shop halfway down the alley, mostly because it smelled the most inviting. The noren bore faded characters, and inside there were only six seats at a counter, all but two occupied. The cook glanced up briefly, assessing them in the quick, practiced way of someone who fed half the neighborhood nightly.
"Two?" he asked.
"Yes, please," Akuru said politely, bowing just enough to be respectful without being formal.
They slipped onto the stools at the end of the counter. The wood was worn smooth beneath Akuru's palms, darkened by years of elbows and spilled soup. A kettle simmered behind the cook, and a pot of broth sent up slow, savory breaths.
Menus were unnecessary. The cook set down two cups of tea without asking.
"What's good tonight?" Kanae asked.
The cook snorted.
"If it wasn't good, I wouldn't sell it."
Akuru hid a smile behind his cup.
They ordered something simple but filling.
Bowls of rice, grilled fish, miso soup thick with tofu and scallions, and a small plate of pickled vegetables to share. Nothing extravagant. Nothing rushed.
When the food arrived, it came with the quiet gravity of routine. Bowls placed carefully. Chopsticks set parallel. Steam curling upward like a blessing.
Both of them prayed silently and quickly.
Kanae picked up her chopsticks and took her first bite of fish.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh," she said softly, "Oh, this is very good."
Akuru laughed under his breath and tried his own. The fish was crisp at the edges, tender beneath, brushed with just enough sauce to deepen its flavor without drowning it. He felt tension he hadn't noticed ease from his shoulders.
"You're right," he admitted, "Savory was the right step."
She beamed at him over her bowl.
They ate in companionable quiet for a few moments, the sounds of the shop filling the space comfortably. Outside, footsteps passed, voices rose and fell, lanterns swayed. Inside, the world narrowed to bowls and steam and the soft clink of porcelain.
"This is different from eating on the road," Kanae said eventually.
"How so?" Akuru asked.
She gestured vaguely with her chopsticks.
"On the road, food is fuel. Something warm so you don't collapse. Here…" She looked around, at the cook humming to himself, at the other patrons leaning in close to talk, "Here it feels like part of the city's heartbeat."
Akuru considered that, "Like you're borrowing a moment from it."
"Yes," she said, pleased, "Exactly that."
She took a sip of soup, then added, almost casually, "Do you usually eat with others?"
The question caught him off guard.
"Not often," he answered honestly. "I wish, but as you probably know, missions don't really allow for it."
Kanae nodded, "I understand."
She reached for the pickles, offering the plate toward him without looking. Akuru took one, their fingers nearly brushing, and felt an unexpected warmth that had nothing to do with the food.
The cook glanced over.
"You two from out of town?"
"Yes," Kanae said easily.
"Thought so. You eat like you're paying attention."
Akuru blinked, "Is that unusual?"
The cook snorted again, "City folk forget to taste things. Too busy thinking ahead."
Kanae smiled at that, a soft, thoughtful smile, and resumed eating with renewed care.
When they finally stood to leave, Kanae thanked the cook with genuine warmth. Outside, the alley felt quieter, the lanterns dimmer as night edged deeper.
They stepped back into the flow of the city, bellies warm, the night still unfolding before them
They passed a teahouse after exploring the city for a while, after being reinvigorated with food. Lit lanterns and a kettle from which steam was rising greeted them. The owner welcomed them in as she spotted them, with a voice warm as flour. Kanae bowed with a softness that caused the woman's mouth to open in a smile of welcome.
"Two genmaicha," Kanae ordered.
She poured with the ease of experience, the aroma of the tea sweet and roasted.
"You two aren't from around here?" She placed the cup near enough for the scent of the steam to carry.
Akuru was now surprised, it seems it really was obvious that they weren't city folk.
"No," Kanae answered, "We are not.
"We're on a small journey, so we're exploring this city. We thought the city life would be tasted well in a bowl of tea," added Akuru.
The owner laughed and settled back upon her pallet as if she herself were taking a rest.
"I don't know if the city life can be found in tea anymore," she said, "But do tell me what you have seen in your small journey?"
"Well, a tea always comes with a story, so it is only fair we share ours," Kanae said with a grin, and Akuru caught the quick sparkle of green mischief behind her soft tone.
They talked as the tea cooled. Kanae quickly brought the questions back to the owner after some vague answers about where they had been. The conversations drifted easily to topics such as the owner's childhood, the smell of the city when she first moved, and what it was like to run a teahouse that never fully closed.
The owner deflected with the same ease, her hands kneading a towel, her eyes creaking at the corners. Akuru listened to both of them with quiet interest. It looked almost like a tennis match, his head moving quickly between the two.
Both of them left only after their teas finished and thanking the owner profusely. Before Akuru could leave, the owner gave him a private smile. He just smiled back, not truly understanding what it meant.
Kanae asked if he knew a place that had a play of some sort, of course, in the name of the mission. Akuru led both of them to the place he had been in the afternoon.
They wandered into the theater district; the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. There were posters for kabuki and comedies, and one group was rehearsing a piece in the side yard where a young man was miming an exaggerated bow to make Kanae laugh. An usher, spotting the two, pointed out the late showing, and guided them to it.
They settled in the back seats, watching the stage cleaners fan the stage in enthusiastic gestures. Right after that the play started. The performative speech from the performers came out exaggerated, clear, and very antique. Kanae applauded excitedly, impressed. The ease of laughter being shared between them came naturally.
The stagehands were boisterous and rowdy as the play came to an end. The small square out front of the theater erupted into a mini-market as the last applause died down. Fans were being handed out left, right, and centre, flyers being folded, a vendor selling roasted chestnuts out of a pail that smelled of caramel. Kanae purchased a paper fan and quickly doodled something small in pencil on the reverse; Akuru laughed with her about it being a map.
They moved towards the riverside, where the city tapered off into docks and storage buildings, a layering of low moonlight and bright lights of advertising signs. The docks sung with a hum of rope and creaking wood, a singing chorus in slow time. Kanae stopped at the water's edge, where it seemed a second city lay hidden.
A small man with a worn camera stood on the dock, unloading a tripod and a massive box camera that reeked of oil and glass. He looked up, noticed the two young wanderers, and yelled, "Tourists? I can take your picture for a coin!"
"We'll pass," said Kanae gently, as she looked over to him shaking his head.
The photographer laughed, "If you say so."
He adjusted his lens and peered through it at the water.
Akuru's gaze flickered curiously towards the camera. They both stood around and stayed to observe the process of the man trying to take the photo. From the preparation of a plate, to the sound of the shutter closing, and the chemical reek of the developing solution.
They continued on their journey after soaking in the view for a few minutes. Letting their feet rest for a bit.
Tops made of wood spun on the side of a road with plenty of kids crowded around. Kanae wandered over to see if she could join in. One of the kids eventually taught her how to make it spin; she took the top in her other hand and worked to spin it with fixed intent. The top wobbled and righted itself as it landed on the road; the boy who had instructed her yelled triumphantly, and she did likewise after an exaggerated bow. Akuru laughed easily.
They left the area and drifted into an area where Western overcoats mingled with kimonos, and the streetlights cast a cool white glow. A pianist was playing behind the glass of a café, his fingers moving deftly across the keys of a short, haunting sonata. Kanae and him stood near the door of the café as the music leaked out. They stood there for a moment, saying nothing, and let the city and themselves meet through the melody.
"You play?" she asked, peeking at him without raising her head.
"A little," he said. "I've practiced once or twice."
"You should play for me," she said.
"Right now?"
"Not now if you don't want to," she replied quickly, "But someday for sure."
Akuru smiled and nodded, a glimmer of promise in his eyes.
Night markets continued to emerge as they continued their mission. To be honest, Akuru still didn't know what the mission was. When he first met, neither Kanae nor her crown knew what they were being asked to do in Tokyo. That's why they had been walking around the city in good conscience, until they got specific instructions that was all they could do. Getting familiar with the city sounded like a good idea. Now that he thought about it, where had Huginn gone?
He knew that he had departed with Kanae's crow, but where to was a mystery. Oh well, Akuru thought. Huginn would come back when something important arose, that he was confident about.
A vendor selling small wooden animals interrupted his thoughts as he signaled Kanae and him to come over. She purchased two small wooden frogs and stuffed them into her pocket.
"As a lucky charm," she whispered, pushing one towards him.
Akuru accepted it with a small bow.
"I'll treasure it," he grinned.
They continued to wander till the sky smudged to dark indigo, the clouds spotty. It was late, and the city was mired in a serious intimacy. They found themselves at a bridge where the river below tugged at circles of light, and for a moment, there was just the sound of their footsteps and the whisper of the river.
"I like this," Kanae whispered, "It's almost like it represents the flow of the city. A vien to the beating heart of Tokyo."
"Wow, I didn't know I was standing near such a great poet," Akuru teased, and he felt the tap of her fan on his shoulder.
"As long as you know," her face brimming with a grin.
Their laughter became a closed wave within the street.
As they stared into the rushing water beneath them, the gentle flaps of a pair of crows sounded out above them.
Huginn had arrived back with Kanae's crow as well. Huginn sat on his shoulder as Kanae raised her hand out for her crow to land on her forearm. Her crow's eyes were two well-polished stones; it clicked its beak and seemed to speak towards her.
"Yes?" Kanae asked, smiling at the motion.
Akuru looked over at Huginn, seeing if he had a message for him as well, but Huginn just continued to stare at Kanae's crow.
The crow moved along Kanae's arm and let out one quick and precise call.
Kanae listened. Her face, until now a smooth surface, tightened like a mask. She traced a gentle finger along the head of the crow, as it was nearing the end of its story.
"Scrap yard," she said finally, "Eastern district. Metal has been going missing. Strange sounds also have been heard at night. They want us to investigate."
Akuru looked towards in question.
"A junkyard?"
"A place where old metal is collected," she said, translating softly for him, "A place where normally there's no sound in the night."
"I see." Akuru's voice dropped low, he looked up towards the night sky.
"It seems someone called for assistance. HQ would like us to check this out quietly and see if they need us to hang around."
"When?" Akuru already knew the answer, but he still needed to ask.
"Tonight," Kanae replied quietly.
"Makes sense. I wish they would have given us more of a heads up," Akuru sighed out his reply. His shoulders shrugging.
Kanae's crow moved to perch on her shoulders. The city pulsed around them, a living entity with a beat, suddenly turned alive. They looked at each other and knew, wordlessly, the same edge of readiness crept into each of their bodies.
"Ready to go?" asked Kanae gently.
Akuru breathed deeply and felt his lungs brimming like a weapon.
"Let's go," he said.
Their walks were synchronous, and the city slipped away behind them.
Ahead awaited the scrapyard, the mission location.
The mission had finally arrived.