Though neither Fumiko nor Aya were paragons of physical prowess, the child that they hefted up by armpits and legs was light enough that the two university students had little problem. It was a bit problematic, of course, when Fumiko remembered that the door to Spice Tea opened outwards rather than inwards, but someone else opened the door for them, letting the two inside the tea shop. The highschool boy, all gangly limbs and freckled face, smiled weirdly at the trio, and then turned his gaze back to Rie, who smiled even as she rinsed a towel in cold water.

“Euhuehuehue…” came the teenager’s creepy laugh. He retreated back to his own seat at the counter; the door, as it swung back into place, smacked into Fumiko.

Still, that didn’t cause any particular trouble to either of the child-carriers. They laid her down upon a sofa, resting the auburn-haired girl’s head on one of the arms. Upon closer inspection now, her eyes were heavily-bagged and her skin was pale in such a way that couldn’t just be from lack of sun. Sleep deprivation, perhaps? Regardless, it was evident to both women that this particular kid hadn’t collapsed merely from heat exhaustion...for better or worse, at least.

Time passed, with Rie bringing over glasses of water for all three of them, as well as a damp towel to place over the child’s forehead. Her breathing levelled out soon, and after a while, it became clear that she was simply...asleep. The fatigue may have gotten her before the heat did. As Fumiko and Aya enjoyed their own respite in the teashop, the door to Spice Tea opened once more. A man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, strode in. He wore black slacks and a white collared shirt, his hair recently shaved as if in anticipation for the season. Fleshy-faced, a frantic expression was on his face as he scanned the small shop, practically passing up Rie and Fumiko completely before letting out a sigh of relief as his gaze settled on the sleeping child.

“Oh thank the gods,” the man exalted, clapping his hands together in a moment of heavenward gratitude. Walking up towards the two university students, he knelt before the sofa, as if confirming with his own eyes the state of the child. Satisfied after a moment of inspection, he turned towards the two. “I can’t thank you two enough! Suzuha, she just up and ran away, and I wasn’t able to catch up and then didn’t know where she oh she’s always been so sickly too and if she just fell where no one could see her, ugh!”

He clamped his hand over his mouth, ceasing his rambling immediately, and took a deep breath.

“Where are my manners? I’m Gotou Matsumaru, and Suzuha here’s my niece. You two are?”

“Huh?”

The punk blinked as Otoya was sent reeling back from his punch. It felt like punching a...piece of beef, really. Was this university student really just all talk? Wait, no...was he really just that strong? In an instant, memories flooded past, of all the times his upperclassmen shat on him just for being younger than him, of all the times he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, but was too afraid to try because they were all bigger and older than him.

Could it be, that he was the one that was The Strong?

“Ha...hahaha! Fucking dumbass! What did I tell ya? Don’t mess with the West Park Bois!” Crew Cut laughed anxiously, heart pounding a million miles an hour, his knuckles still stinging from where it glanced against the spray can. With the pretty boy down, he aimed blow after blow upon him, alternating between stomps and kicks with gleeful vengeance.

“Yeah! Mess him up, bro!” Slick Hair cheered as well, fist pumping up aggressively. “Beat in his face till his mother won’t even recog- BWUH?!”

An impact struck the slick-haired teen on the side of the jaw, cracking his head away. Skittering to the ground was a black object, rectangular in shape. A rock? A shuriken? No...it was a cellphone! Crew Cut wheeled about, his eyes narrowed against the silhouette that strode towards them in broad daylight.

Bold black eyebrows. Black hair, coiffed in a way that it was ruffled even on a windless day. Eyes, dark and proud, shining with the unmistakable light of JUSTICE.

“Evildoers quake! My power surges, my soul roars! In the light of the Sun, your fates are decided! HENSHIN!” Tossing his black leather jacket into the azure above to expose his padded, yellow-streaked motorcycle suit underneath, the man rushed for Crew Cut, who growled once more with berserking ferocity. The thug leapt over Otoya and rushed for the stranger, rearing his fist back for a mighty blow!

But even the most powerful of fists could not compete with the Diver Kick! Leaping into action, the mysterious warrior of love and justice twisted his body like a corkscrew as his feet planted against the thug’s chest, sending him skidding against the scalding concrete. Slick Hair cried out, but rushed for the prone warrior, his own foot drawn back for mighty soccer kick into the gut. An impact resounded heavily, but there was no satisfaction there; the hero’s armor held strong, repelling the blow! Pushing the slick-haired bastard’s foot back, the suited man sprung up to his feet again, fists springing out into a flurry of blows. Jab, jab, cross, straight, hook. Five strikes struck true, and the skinny thug fell back, stunned and bruised.

“GRAHHH!”

Crew Cut recovered again, enraged. His brain boiled from the pain and the summer heat, his lungs heaved madly, and adrenaline raced through his veins like cocaine injections! He was The Strong! His fist could lay out university students in a single blow! And with that bumblebee bastard’s back exposed, there was no wa-

“The laws of victory has been decided.”

-y he could lose! Like a smith bringing down their hammer upon molten steel, Crew Cut swung for the back of the man’s head with everything he ha-

“Farewell. Hornet Sting!”

The hero’s heel slammed into Crew Cut’s solar plexus, folding him in half and sending him flying. Perfect timing, perfect technique, perfect strength. A single blow to decide the fight. The bulky thug fell to the ground again, and this time, he could only wheeze, unable to get up. Their ‘leader’, one of his eyes still squinted from the paint sprayed upon his face, finally stood up, and with the help of Slick Hair, got Crew Cut up. They hobbled away in shame, but not before he spat out, “We’ll remember this! Watch your backs!”

The sun continued to beat. With the adversaries gone, the man retrieved his jacket once more. “Deactivate,” he muttered, before zipping his jacket over his suit. He walked over to Mitsuo, crouching beside him. “You alright? I’ve got band-aids and such, but if they knocked a tooth loose or something, it’s outta my area of expertise. I’m sorry I was unable to do anything for your cat.”

“Going once, going twice, sold! To the honorable Master Yoshio Takemori for 5500 yen!”

Varying sounds of disappointment and congratulations sounded through the crowd as the gentleman with the megaphone, flanked by his two, assumed, granddaughters, cut through the crowd to take his five eels. For the occasion, they were placed in a sandalwood box, chunks of ice cubes separating the eels from each other, and with utmost ceremony, the transaction was done.

And of course, once one transaction finished, another began. Flourishing his blades, Captain Belo hummed a chipper tune as he descaled and hacked the snappers into manageable sizes. Even without weighing them properly, he had a precise sense of just how hefty each individual slab of fish meat was. Within twenty seconds of blindingly fast work, Iwao was 3600 yen poorer, but three pounds of fish richer, a plastic bag of fish and ice in his hands.

“Thank you for your business~ Shall I be expecting you Tuesday, or will that be Aya’s turn?”

Hiroyuki smiled when Sayuri returned to the table. “Thanks for doing that for me, Sa-chan,” he said, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Appreciate it.”

With that, he leaned back, slotting his phone back into his pockets. “Feel like I slept alright myself,” he commented, picking small clumps of rice out of the bowl. “Only gonna get hotter though; look into getting another set of covers, will you? So there’s not two of us warming it up.”

He finished eating soon after, placing the bowl of half-finished rice down as he stood up. Checking his watch, the man nodded to himself. “I’ve got someone to meet now, Sa-chan. Don’t worry ‘bout making dinner for me, yeah? I don’t imagine I’ll be back till late.”

Gotou bowed back, and smiled at the silent Aya as well, apparently not noticing the suspicion aimed in his direction. With care, the man took the child into his arms, resting her chin on his shoulder and hugging her against his chest. “I’m...not too certain myself,” he spoke after a moment’s pause. “She’d been having nightmares on and off the past couple of weeks, but this was the first time she had...hm...well, we were just walking down the side streets, down by Eizou’s Laundromat.”

He pursed his lips briefly, then stood up.

“I went into the Laundromat with Suzuha, left her in the play area while I did my business n all. When I came out, she was gone, and, well…” The man rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “Just glad that I found her.”

“To risk your own teeth for a stray that you’ve had no connection with,” the badass in a motorcycle suit said, “Truly, you too are an ally of justice!”

With a hearty clap on Otoya’s shoulder (made awkward by the fact that the spray-painting, meat-sitting, live-house-touring student was still lying on the ground), he hoisted him back onto his feet, patting the dust off his back before offering the musician a firm handshake. “I am Kobayashi Mitsuo, currently investigating a string of cat murders across Tenoroshi! Young man, I must ask! Have you any knowledge of such dark dealings? Were those bottomfeeding, cat-molesting scum the perpetrators, or just a pack of vultures, drawn to unnatural violence?”

Hiroyuki’s expression softened, and he walked around the table to where Sayuri sat. Bending down, he pressed his lips against her forehead. “There’ll be plenty of time for us once summer comes,” he said, pulling away. “Just be patient ‘til then, alright, Sa-chan?”

With the warmth of lingering longing in his smile, he turned, leaving his leftovers on the table as he stepped into the staircase and then, out of sight.

---

The Fisherman’s Market was within walking distance of the Urban Exploration clubhouse, and thank the gods for that. Half the ice in the bag had melted into cool water by the time the old building was in sight, and Iwao could practically smell the sweat that was vaporizing off his skin. If he looked in the mirror, his reflection would have been distorted from the heat that radiated off of everything, and while some young couples could thwart off the heat of the summer sun with the power of love and cute clothes alone, Iwao was just alone, with a bag of fish that’ll go bad and a body thirstier than fourteen year olds in their first co-ed physical education class.

Relief was in sight though. Standing starkly in the white light was that three-story building that had been renovated to become barely livable. It wasn’t home, necessarily, but it was a place to drop off fish, at least. And cook it too, hopefully. When he strode past the cement-block walls of the building, the door opened up, revealing Hiroyuki in his usual well-dressed attire. The handsome youth grinned, not unkindly, at Iwao’s appearance, before stepping off to the side and holding the door open for him.

“Hell of a scorcher, ne?” he said. “Think there’s still a beer in the fridge, if you wanna snag it before Mochi does.”

They were asking a lot of questions, weren’t they? A frown passed over Gotou’s face.

“Business as in, y’know, using the washroom? Look, I don’t know what sorta made-up shit you’re imagining, but your mistrust is misplaced.” The man looked between the two of them, flustered but also irritated. Who did these children think they were, really? “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we ought to get…”

“Perhaps just a cup of tea?” A soft voice, a bewitching gaze. A strand of hair brushed by Gotou’s shoulder, as Maya smiled, placing a saucer and a teacup down on the table. Chamomile, with a hint of something else too.

“Oh, uh, no, we really should leave. Sorry for all the trouble, ma’am.”

Maya shook her head. “It’s no trouble at all, sir. The sun is especially strong this time of day, and it would honestly be more troublesome if you too were to collapse in such an environment. Perhaps just until the shadows grow a little longer…”

Gotou drew in a breath. Even men in their thirties weren’t immune to the charms of a well-endowed woman, it appeared. He looked at Maya, then at Suzuha, then back to Maya, and with a sigh, said, “If it pleases you.”

Gently, the man placed his relative back down, before taking a seat beside her. He sipped tea, let out another sigh, and pointedly ignored the two skeptical university students.

Time passed. Though Spice Tea was usually calming, it was just awkward now. Fumiko, alert and doubtful, had her gaze locked upon Gotou. Aya, however, found her gaze wandering eventually. There was someone outside, leaning against the window of the tea shop. They took shelter from the sun too, and fiddled with their phone, perhaps poaching wi-fi off from the tea shop.

Weird person, wearing a hoodie in such temperatures.

Mitsuo shook his head, though it was hard to tell whether it was in sorrow over the horrifying last moments of the cat or disappointment over this nefarious villain evading the grasp of justice once more.

“A tragedy, brought on by human hands,” he spoke, turning his back coolly towards Otoya. “Rest assured, I shall not rest until this fiend in human flesh is brought to the justice of my fist. Ensure that this feline receives a proper burial, lest another one of those scum sate their boredom with it. Now, I must leave! Justice never sleeps.”

And with that, he strode off once more, northwards, as bold as a beetle, the stag sort of beetle.

“Hrmm,” Gotou rumbled, briefly annoyed. It disappeared soon after though; frowns didn’t really seem like they fit his face anyhow. “It’s fine, miss. So long as you understand.” He folded his arms against his chest and tapped a soft rhythm against the floorboards.

Soon after, Suzuha woke up.

Her complexion looked better, at least, and though she looked briefly alarmed at her changed surroundings, upon seeing Gotou, the child relaxed, a bit of the tension leaving her body. But only a bit. Her eyes, clear as they were, still held a fragment, a sliver of something else. “Um…” she began. “Where am I?”

“A tea shop,” Gotou replied. “You collapsed in the heat, and these nice ladies here brought you here to recover.”

“Oh...uh…”

“What do we say to people who help us?”

“T-thank you…” Suzuha bowed her head slightly. “Can we go home?”

Gotou opened his mouth, reconsidered, and then closed it. He nodded.

“Then...carry me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The man gave Fumiko a look, but didn’t wait for her permission. Taking Suzuha into his arms once more, he dipped his head in Maya’s direction. The woman smiled, then glanced towards one of the high schoolers still killing time there, his tea untouched. He immediately hopped up, swung over, and opened the door for Gotou and Suzuha.

Yeah, if they were going to just order waters and loiter around, they may as well do something, right?

Suzuha waved at Aya and Fumiko as she carried off.

The door swung closed.

The person in the hoodie also left.

The Southern District was Brutalist, concrete and unforgiving. A skater’s paradise perhaps, but for self-professed gravediggers, nothing short of annoying. There were places though, places made from years of neglect, where weeds spread their roots enough to crack the sidewalk open, slabs of pavement cracking open. It was there, in a quiet side street, that Otoya crouched, prying away the stone to expose dry dirt underneath. The sun still beat down hard against his back, but in the morning and afternoon it would be shaded, and the graffiti decorating the walls of this street weren’t too bad either. His nails chipped uncomfortably, but they were due for a clipping anyways.

The cat’s body had been light when he carried it over. Even lighter than its size suggested, all blood-matted fur and disjointed bones. Made it easier to bury though.

A shallow grave was dug. Filled. The pavement he had pried off, Otoya could now set back down as a gravestone, if nothing else. A bit of gravel got under his left middle fingernail, and now, a bit of blood seeped out. Barely a pinprick of pain though, so long as he didn’t think about it.

The meat was spoiling, the sun continued to beat, he felt like shit, and his head was beginning to ache.

He could get up now. Could probably leave too.