• Shirota Mizuno locked the doors to his one-bedroom apartment before leaving to school on his motorcycle. The 19-year-old from Japan had repeated this process several times. Everyday he woke up, got ready for whatever his day held for him, locked the doors and left on his motor vehicle without another thought on going back running through his head. He had his plans written down and drawn in his head and it was always what he had planned to do and most of the time happened his way. While speeding through the lonely streets of Miyazaki, one thing still haunted his thoughts; sometimes he dreamed about it and lingered on this idea but others he discarded it. All his life he had never really belonged anywhere. He did have friends but he sometimes wondered if it was out of fear that they hung out with him. He had been a pickpocket when he was younger and then a thief and gangster after that. He had never been caught but he knew what everyone was saying about him. Adults never trusted him and eventually even a few little kids picked up on it. He stole goods, never paid his bills or his rent, even the ones he could afford were stolen and he hid bottles of alcohol, drugs, weapons and other illegal stuff. Another thought ran past him; could he change and finally be accepted? Could he start anew? He knew it himself; he was not a bad person, he just wasn’t a good person either. Not being good doesn’t necessarily mean that you are a bad person. No. There were other reasons. The same reasons even a bad kid like him could still lock the doors to his room; to protect what little memories he had, even though he dreaded them more than anything; memories he wished he didn’t have and could forget forever.
    It was still dark and the sun was just barely visibly behind all the fog. Behind him, he heard sirens, bullhorns, noises that he heard after he had done something. There was a light shining behind him. They were after him. They were going to catch him and put him in prison where he would live in a nine-by-nine cell and only see the face of the sun one hour each day. Where meals were timed and men were beaten. He couldn’t go there; he still had something he needed to do.
    Shirota pressed the heels of his shoes to the sides of his motorcycle, the engines roared and he rode even faster. Just as he had accelerated, so did the police. They were right on his tail. Faster, I have to go faster. He thought to himself. He stepped on it and sped even faster. The wind entered through his helmet and into his ears and whispered a message: Escape, Escape, it told him. Behind him, the sirens still blared and the lights still shone. He rode even faster until he came to a dark tunnel. Escape, escape. There were no lights except for the sirens of the police cruiser. Escape. The brakes were out and he looked ahead and in front of him was a wall, a brick wall. He was having flashbacks of his life, the dreadful memories and the ones he treasured and all those actions he wished he could take back. But he smiled. Is this it? My time is up? Why are you smiling, Mizuno? Having good time? You’re going to die... Even in death there is still one thing; Regret. That and rest. He closed his eyes and brought his arms up to protect his face and braced for a hard crash and for the fate that waits for him just beyond the gate.
    *

    Shirota opened his eyes. Where am I? Have I reached the realm of the dead? Am I alive? Was it all a dream? He reached for his face and felt the burns and bruises of the collision. No. Dreams don’t leave bruises and scabs. Nor do they leave stains of blood on your new shirt or drips of it falling from your mouth and nose. It was morning now and he could just make out a birdbath at the corner of the end of the tunnel. He washed up there and found that the police were no longer there. Neither was his bike. A patch of light was shining from the opposite end. He trudged from his place on the ground and toward the beckoning glow. It was blinding, the closer he got the more his hands blocked the painful beam from entering his eyes.
    Outside, it didn’t look anything like Miyazaki. It resembled an old town. With cobblestone roads, shops made from wood and stone. The only thing that wasn’t out of place was the people. They resembled regular humans, the kind that lived in Miyazaki. But their hair colors and clothing were way off. Their rags looked futuristic in comparison to their surroundings. There was a fountain in the middle of the square and surrounding the city was a body of water with bridges connecting them to the rest of the world.
    Shirota noticed after all the commotion how hungry he was. He walked over to the fountain to rest up a bit before finding a place to eat. He tapped an old man on the shoulder. He was wrinkled like a sheet that hadn’t been ironed yet but his eyes were like that of a cat.
    “Where’s the nearest restaurant?” he asked.
    The old man smiled and pointed to a nearby building with a sign that read “Kokumotsu.” He went inside and looked around. He sat a table by himself and a woman appeared to take his order.
    “What’ll it be today, sir? You can try the new ramen if y’like.”
    “I’ll just have something small. I don’t eat much so you don’t have to get fancy with the food. I just want to eat.”
    “Would ya like anything to drink?”
    Shirota looked her in the eye and smiled. “I’ll take a glass of sake. Make it two.” Still wearing his smirk, he realized with dread that he didn’t have any money on him.
    “That’d be all?”
    He smiled in a nicer way to make up for his not having anything on him with any real monetary value. “Umm, yea miss, thanks.” He chuckled nervously as the waiter walked off to turn in his order. The restaurant was filled with men at least 10 or 20 years older than him and a few women who dared to show up. How will I get back home? He asked himself. Maybe the tunnel, I could get back the same way I got here, wherever this place is. The waiter came back with some rice balls and his two glasses of sake. As she set the tray down Shirota dared asking:
    “Where am I?
    “At the Kokumotsu, sir. Our address is…”
    “No. Where am I?”
    “The city is called Tarujin in the country Hatsu.”
    He thought of the geography class he had taken in 5th grade. How long ago that was. What country is Hatsu and what city is Tarujin. He came up with another request that might answer his question:
    “Ma’am, what planet is this?”
    She looked at him with a crazy expression. “Earth, young man.”
    He snapped his fingers with disappointment at the thought of thinking some more.
    “Where are you from?” she asked.
    “Miyazaki, Kyushu, Japan.” He answered.
    “What country is that?”
    “I just told you; Japan.”
    “I’ve never heard of it.”
    “It’s a group of islands in North Eastern Asia. You haven’t heard of it?” Where am I for real? I need to wake up.
    “Sorry, no. Here’s your check.”
    She left the check on the table and left. When she wasn’t looking, Shirota wolfed down the rice balls and gulped the sake glasses clean and left without paying the check. This isn’t a very good way to start anew but it’ll have to do for now. As he was just exiting the building, a man was following him.
    “Hey Kid!!!! Where’re you going with paying your check?!” he yelled. Shirota tried to escape by running but the man was faster than he was. The man caught up with him and immediately threw a blow directly to his face. Shirota felt his face turn red and his head vibrate from the beating. The man threw another one at his stomach and Shirota fell to the ground. You should’ve known, Mizuno. You can’t cheat death twice. If not the tunnel crash, then I’ll die here in this hell from a beating. The man threw more at him. Shirota was black and blue after the first four punches and was already starting to give up. Suddenly, he heard a scream, but it wasn’t him. There were two yells; one was from the man who was giving him the beating and the other sounded like a girl’s scream, a high-pitched one like the kind he usually heard when girls broke a nail but the emotion underneath was different; it signaled an accomplishment of a feat. The he heard the man yell something: “Run!!!”
    He heard more people screaming like there were an earthquake or something and two other noises that sounded like the firing of guns. The rest he didn’t remember because he had fallen unconscious.
    *
    Shirota woke again, this time it was nighttime and he was at the fountain. He remembered now: I was being beaten on by a man for not paying my bill. I thought I was dead, but then, someone saved me. This someone called “the Shadow Cat.” Who is he? My head hurts like a mountain fell on me. Shirota fell asleep again. The next the day when he woke up, the man he had asked for directions was there again and was looking over him. Shirota walked over to him in an attempt to know more about the “Shadow Cat.”
    “Old man, can I ask you something?”
    “Go ahead, Shirota.”
    “How do you know my name?”
    “The old know many things. I also know that you’re not from here.”
    “Got that right.”
    “Is that what you wanted to ask me?”
    “No. I wanted to ask you who was it that saved me yesterday?”
    “Do you want to know?”
    “Yes I do. Who was this man who rescued me?”
    “First of all, you should know this “man’s” gender.”
    “Gender? What are you talking about?”
    “…is a girl.”
    “A girl?!”
    “Yes, is a girl.”
    “Why is everyone so afraid of her?”
    “Because she’s a killer. Comes around every so often to kill others. But I can tell you this; her motives aren’t as clear as to why she does this. I’ve examined it many times, an old geezer like me. She doesn’t mean what she does. She will usually only attack when children are not present and so long as we don’t attack foreigners she won’t strike.”
    “Why?”
    “I told you that it wasn’t clear. Is that all you need to know?”
    “One more thing; where is she now?”
    “Can’t say, she moves around so many times; sometimes in Hatsu and sometimes in Kitsu or in Jouhyou. The soldiers have been searching for her for almost 2 years now, but she’s too slippery.”
    “Where are those places?”
    “Around. I’ll tell you she’s probably in the Kokugen Tunnel.”
    “Where is that?”
    “It’s where you crawled out from.”
    “What is your name?”
    “Myorou. I’ll always be here at the fountain in case you need more. The Shiroi Fountain of Tarujin”
    “Thanks old man. Umm uhh…Myorou.”

    Shirota left to begin his search for the Kokugen Tunnel where he came from. Maybe, after he talks to her he could return home. He journeyed the one mile journey to Kokugen Tunnel past all the noisy streets and people. When he reached it, it was nearly noon. He peered inside the tunnel and saw sewer pipes sticking up from the ceiling dripping water and making the floor wet. It smelled musty and wet. And most of all, it was dark. He reluctantly stepped in holding his breath hoping that she wasn’t too far into the tunnel. He walked on into the black darkness.
    “Hello?” he called out, “Is anyone in there?” something scurried past him, it was a rat. He let out a breath of warm air when the light behind him now cast a shadow. He turned around a saw a silhouette that took the shape of a teenage girl. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew at once that she was probably younger than he was.
    “Who’s there?!” he called out. “Show yourself!”
    “Just me,” the girl said. “And who are you and what are you doing here?!” She wailed out.
    “My name is Shirota Mizuno!” he said. “I came here looking for the woman who saved me yesterday. Do you know where she is?”
    “That depends on who’s asking for her. You’re not a spy are you?”
    “No, I’m not.”
    “How can I know that this answer is truthful?”
    “I’m just a lost boy looking for Miyazaki. I have no occupation.”
    “Then I have no reason to hide.”
    The girl stepped into the light and Shirota could see her face clearly; she had medium length brown hair, fair skin and green eyes.
    “Am I the one you’re looking for?”
    “You’re the person who saved me? You’re the one everyone in that town is so afraid of?
    “Is that so hard to believe?”
    Shirota looked down to her waist and saw four guns hanging from her belt; two small pistols and two larger ones. One of them had a huge revolver and the other with a big snout. She also carried three blades; a dagger and two others that were too small to be a sword but too long to be a dagger; kodachis. He almost laughed that everyone in the town had been scared of some little girl who was probably not even in her teens yet.
    “What are you laughing about there, dunce?!” she yelled at him.
    “Nothing it just that,” he smiled. “You’re the one who saved me and attacked the town?”
    “Hell yeah! What of it?”
    “How old are you?”
    “16 and a half! What’s your problem?!”
    “Nothin’ it’s just that,” he laughed some more. “You’re a little short.”
    He laughed some more but at once he felt a pain in his stomach. The girl had punched him. He crouched in pain on the floor.
    “What the hell was that for, idiot!?”
    “That’ll teach you! So tell me, who’s the bigger idiot; the idiot or the idiot that got punched by the idiot?”
    “Why you!?” he lunged to get a punch at her. But she was too fast and moved out of the way.
    “Too slow!!!”
    “You’re the one who’s slow!”
    “I’m not the one groveling on the floor.”
    “And I came all the way here to thank you!”
    “Thank me for what?”
    “What do you mean ‘for what’? You’re the one who saved my guts yesterday!”
    “Oh that. I was just mad because the man wasn’t killing you fast enough!”
    “Shut up will you!”
    “You shut up!”

    During their argument, they heard a small noise coming from the entrance of the tunnel. There was little boy who had a small camcorder. The girl gasped in horror
    “What’s up?” –Shirota
    “The boy’s got a camcorder!”
    “Yeah, so?”
    ....to be continued....