"Santo mierda!" Benjamin shouted as Sonya shot Naoto in the forehead. "What the-" But before he could protest further she was gone. She really was in this mafia. She was serious about this. She'd shot Naoto because he'd protested. He wasn't stupid enough to argue. At least until he could safely avoid this all. Then suddenly the pink-haired boy leapt up, nothing but his boxers and scarf left, and shouted a few things. Dying flame? What is this magic? Just a reflection of light, right? That isn't real fire?" But Naoto was down the road and the fire department and law authorities were just a few blocks away. Time to dip.
He sprinted, hard and fast, down the streets of Trespiano. He couldn't catch Naoto, not even if he were dressed for it, but his pace was fueled by desperation and fear that he might be blamed. It was enough to carry him through the houses and stores and what else their town had. He finally saw the beach, where that woman and Naoto had gone to, but didn't go directly to it. No. He took a detour one of two blocks to the left of his initial direction and stood by the edge if the sand. He slipped his shoes off and put his socks in them. He was fairly out of view so he decided to survey the area. The beach was empty. Of course. There had been a festival. The shops along the beachfront looked locked but that probably wouldn't stop Sonya or anyone she was associated with. He figured that if she had had him tracked, since she knew he'd be in Trespiano, that escaping into obscurity might be futile. So he walked down the beach, barefoot with shoes in hand, and untucked his button-down as he approached. "Hello?" He called for either the ginger woman or the pink haired child.