Tokyo City – Japan

Having just gotten out of the morning train, Sora stepped onto the boardwalk, backpack slung over his shoulder as he trailed towards the local schoolyard, it was a middle school, not unlike the one Sora himself had gone to a few years ago; before all of these crazy things started happening all around him – but more on that later.

Kicking a empty can with his feet outside of the schoolyard, he stopped as he saw a shade in the corner of his eye, too pale to be a person. Continuing on wards, Sora came across another one, this shade looking more horrified than the previous one, he continued meeting these pale shades, resembling people, each more terrified than the last. He soon came to one that approached him “ Y-You! C-Can you see me?!” The shade asked as Sora looked him over from top to toe.

“Duh.” He said, his european accent coming through in his Japanese.. “You must help us, mighty shaman! That man is a maniac!” he shouted, Sora looked up at him “ What man?” He asked, when his question answered itself, as a rock the size of his head came hurling towards him. Sidestepping out of the way, he peered down at the person who had thrown the boulder. It was a tall tanned man, looking incredibly pissed off about something, his head was bald and his eyes had gone dark with anger, he wore cargo shorts and a pink tank top.

“CRUSH EVERYTHING!” The man shouted. Sora looked at him and shook his head “Yo. Any chance you might not wanna do that?” His words did nothing except draw attention from the pissed off man in the pink tank top. “Guess not.” The teen shuddered as he dashed to the side, dodging another piece of concrete that was chucked his way.

Looking at the man, he could see the form of a much larger being, a sumo wrestler's shape appeared around the man in the salmon top. He was a shaman. Sora grunted. “All right then Locksley, guess we have no choice.”

“No, it would indeed seem so.” A voice rang out from no where, only for a burning orb to appear next to Sora's face, it had a goatee and a mustache, medium length hair, and a medieval hunting cap in a green shade with a red feather in it, his eyes were piercingly blue. Taking the orb in his hand, Sora pushed the orb into his chest, and he felt how his body was no longer his own.

They were now two beings in one body – with all the benefits and flaws that comes with that. Other ghosts ran around the two Shaman who were about to do battle, luckily, there was no one who was still alive around, so there was no chance of someone getting hurt.

“Except you, Sora.” The former outlaw commented in the back of Sora's head. “I've never seen a man of such size. What kind of deer does thou eat to become of such size?” the voice asked, and Sora scoffed. “You've been away far too long.” Digging into his bag, he quickly pulled out the wrench he carried with him.

Dashing at the other Shaman, Sora went to the right, but Robin went for the left, causing the young shaman to awkwardly slide in between the man's legs, whom quickly turned around and pulled Sora by the leg, tossing the much smaller man several meters. Like a cat, he landed on his feet, his Adidas sneakers sliding on the ground as he came to a halt.

“Focus, you know how I wish to proceed, you have to follow through.” The ghost informed Sora whom scoffed “Is it you or me who's the Shaman here?” he retorted, Robin let out a audible sigh “I'm afraid it's you.” With his free hand, he took off the red bandanna he had tied around his wrist, and tied it like a headband around his forehead, the knot being placed behind his left ear, holding his green hair out of his face. “Imagine we're holding a sword.” Robin tried to explain to Sora, whom grinned “ I wouldn't know.”

Their chat was interrupted by their opponent charging them. “His ghost is huge, we've gotta be faster.” Sora said, and Robin agreed, dashing to the side, they were quickly met with a clothesline to the neck that sent them to the floor, dropping the wrench in the progress. Feeling his chest and head hurt, the shaman scrambled to his feet, being met by his opponent charging him again. “CRUSH!” he shouted. The younger Shaman felt his body move on it's own accord, he spun around, under the brute's arm, he delivered a full length kick to his ribs from behind, he rolled on the ground while his opponent was disoriented and grabbed the wrench.

Coming from under his opponent, he used the wench as a sword and with a diagonal slash into his chin, the brute donning the pink tank top met his match. Metal against bone, and bone lost. With his opponent out cold, Sora panted and sat down, the englishman's spirit leaving his body as he did so, returning to his orb form.

“What the hell was that?” Sora asked, holding his chest that hurt from the hit he took earlier. “I think that is what your father would have called 'synchronization'.”

"I'm telling you, it's haunted!"

Clicking his tongue, a yakuza type in a white suit, his head shaved, balked, "You're nuts."

A shorter, elderly man with small spectacles and a belly sash insisted, "Really!"

Sifting through the cobwebs in the restaurant attic with an extended switchblade, a younger man in a black suit with a gold tie over a white and blue striped shirt, tattoos peeking out of his cuffs, shaking his head, stating, "Nothing yet."

"Well of course he's not going to find anything, it's a ghost!"

"Then how do you know there's a ghost, shit for brains?" yelled the white suited thug.

"He doesn't", whispered a scruffy, unshaven man with a black suit and white tie, emblazoned with a spider over a red shirt. Said man also lacked a lower torso, a wisp floating over to the younger yakuza thug's pocket, his presence not being acknowledged by the white suited yakuza thug or the old man.

Running a hand down his slicked back dark hair, a small streak of gray running through, Yamaguchi Itsurou muttered, "I figured that out myself." Staring, the old man looked around, but the other thug just shrugged, a bit used to it

Using the butt of his knife to adjust his frame-less sunglasses, Itsurou confirmed, "There's nothing spiritual here."

Disgruntled, the old man stomped his foot on the ground thrice, crying through his tantrum, "Why should I believe you!? You just want your stupid protection money!"

The shaved thug, insisted, "We've gone along with your game, so shut up and pay!"

"He can't, obviou-" Itsurou began, before he was interuppted by the faint sound of a cruel cackle. Turning, Itsurou saw as the curtain over the lone window in the attic rustled, though all openings in the room were sealed.

The scruffy spirit, Rong Lu-Shun, burst into laughter. "What the hell was that!? Who is that supposed to fool!? Ahahahaha!"

Shuddering, the old man muttered, "I told you..."

Stepping over to the window, Itsurou raised his hand to the curtain, before whipping it over to a nearby box, ripping it open and turning over, a silent hairdryer, clearly modified, fell out, clattering against the attic floor. Stooping down, Itsurou gently followed the cord, before reaching an opening in the floor. Yanking it suddenly, he heard a faint cry of surprise from below. Itsurou stood, scoffing, "What, no mist makers or spooky decorations? I'll bet your little tantrum there was a signal to your cute granddaughter to star something. Bet there's a stereo with a tape of recorded laughter too."

Reaching a hand out, the white suited thug grabbed the old man by the collar, slamming into the wall, snarling, "You're trying to fuck with us!? I'll have her sold overseas!"

As the old man gasped in horror, Itsurou sighed, "Nah, not yet." Snapping up an old looking mirror from the top of one box, Itsurou said, "Just grab something you like and give him an extension."

"Th-that was my mother's! It's goes back to the Sengoku Dynasty!"

"Nah, you're full of shit," Itsurou said, waving his finger, Rong floating over and swoocing into the Memorial Tablet in his suit pocket. "Saburou, hurry and grab something, I'm hungry."

Saburou snarled, "Excuse me!? I'm your superior! Don't you call me...fine!" Looking through one of the boxes, he stomped a smaller one into the ground, snorting, "Weirdo."

One he'd collected something (and smashed another box or two), Itsurou made to follow him out, warning the old man, "You have three days."

Bowing bitterly, he muttered, "Y-yes sir..."

Stepping through the nearly vacant restaurant, Itsurou and Saburou stepped onto the streets of Tokyo. Itsurou sighed, "Well, that was a waste of time. Usually is. You gonna come with me or what?"

"So you can bum cash off me? Forget it. I've got some important work to do instead of this joke." Snorting, Saburou shuffled off, clearly muttering, "'Yakuza Shaman' my ass..."

Going his own way, Itsurou mumbled, "Ain't exactly glorious work..."

Having recovered from his fight, Sora had ducked into the city, away from all of the spirits. He and Robin made their way to a food place where Sora ordered a plate of Sushi, the only local food he enjoyed. "Isn't this country known for it's excellent noodles?"
"Sherwood; Noodles are disgusting." Sora commented to the spirit, the dirty looks from the natives whom understood him were hanging in the air. Sora finished the plate of Sushi, payed for his food and set off into the city.

The young Shaman and his ghost made their way down the streets, once again. He stuck out like a soar thumb amonst all the asians, standing half a foot taller than the natives of the country. The torso of the legendary outlaw appeared alongside him, with a ghostly tail instead of legs.
"All right, now what?"

"Now, we find out someone who knows anything about this whole 'Shaman' thing."

"You certainly are set on doing this, aren't you?"

"You betcha."

Holding his bruised ribs, he continued on down the busy road.

Bumming through the rambunctious streets of downtown Tokyo, Itsurou parted through pedestrians as he walked.

Scruffy head poking from his pocket, Rong wondered, "So, you take that mirror for a reason?"

Itsurou blinked, before looking at the pilfered object in his hand. Tossing it in the air and catching it, he shrugged, "Dunno." Passing by an alleyway, he chucked it aside, where it landed and shattered.

"You're a dumbass," Rong laughed as he retreated back into his Tablet.

Shambling along, trying to figure out what he wanted, Itsurou dodged out of the way as he almost walked into a foreign man without legs Gritting his teeth, he spat, "Hey, I'm walking here!"

The taller man that Sora and the outlaw bumped shoulders with as the duo stumbled on the sidewalk, turning back to hearing him shout at them.
"Hey, I'm walking here!" he shouted, Sora grunted.

"So am I!" His immediate responds was, while Robin kept quiet, glaring at the man. "Uh, master. You might not want to piss this guy off. He looks like trouble."

"What do you know, you've been inside of a tree for the last 600 years" Sora retorted, loud enough for people around him to overhear his seemingly one-sided conversation.

Itsurou leaned over the ghost's friend, grumbling, "I wasn't talking to you, shrimp, I was talking to beardy there." Jabbing a finger at the foreign spirit, there was a squeal of discontent. Itsurou blinked, before bending to the side, getting a look around the ghost, seeing a confused looking local man in a suit with some facial hair.

Letting out a sigh, Itsurou growled, "Buzz off I wasn't talking about you either." The man seemed off put, but as Itsurou stood straight again, the will to argue back fled, and he stepped off with a grumble.

Head and upper torso slipping out of his tablet, the scruff looking Rong looked over the spirit Shaman pair as the crowd refused to disperse. Waving his hand, some tattoo poking out from under his sleeve, Itsurou cried, "All of ya, keep moving!"

As feet shuffled, Rong noted, "Six centuries huh?" Cracking a smile, he laughed, "Geezer."

"You're both dead..." Itsurou grumbled.

Sora shuttered for a moment when the ghost appeared out of the tablet - the guy was a shaman, there was no doubt about it. And Sora knew he was still spent from his last fight, so he would much rather avoid trouble after all, maybe Locksley was right.

Robin retorted when the other spirit called him a geezer, following by his master saying they were both dead Robin scoffed. "At least I died in my prime." Stroking the goatee he had on his chin. Sora shifted his weight. He wasn't sure if this situation was going to get worse - should the two of them just fuck off and not make a note off seeing other Shaman in the city, or should they trade experience? What was really procedure?

Looking at the tattoos the man had, and the suit he was wearing, Sora figured that he was some sort of Mafia type. What was the Japanease Mafia called? The Jacuzzi? Yeah, that sounds about right. Maybe Sora shouldn't mess with this dude. Trying to sneak away, Robin grabbed the attention of the other ghost "What do deadmen do in this city?" And Sora froze as his spirit spoke "Idiot!" Sora cursed under his breath.

"Coward." Robin retorted with.

"The runt can leave: my problem's with the geezer. People with actual legs have the right of way, idiot," Itsurou insisted.

Pulling further out of the tablet, wispy lower torso vanishing into the pocket while his arms became free," Rong waved, "Hold on, we're talking here." Itsurou clicked his tongue, but went silent.

Pinky picking at his nose, Rong began, "Well, most of the dead just rot, till they got nothing left to rot. Cemeteries are always livelier than you think, there're some hauntings...this town's pretty big, but what everyone's gearing up for now is...well, you know, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't be so far from home, right?"