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Games are Meant to be Lived

Daoist805168
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Synopsis
It had started simple. He woke up, met god and died alone. Death isn't the end, it was just another party. It's a strange land, but it will be his kingdom. Or he could just die again, that's always an option, until it isn't.

Table of contents

Latest Update1
11 months ago
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Chapter 1 - 1

There was a decades-old neighborhood not too far from central Tokyo. It was a gorgeous place and with the increase in the property values, it was also far too expensive for most aspiring homeowners to ever live in unless they were lucky enough to inherit it.

The number of those living inside the sprawling collection of antiquated wooden buildings varied between home to home. Sometimes it was just one person living alone in a big empty house, sometimes a couple or even a large family made up of many generations.

Directly across the street from a lawn chair sitting, raw chicken egg eating elderly man, nestled between the abodes of an aspiring physicist and a highly successful gaming 'gold farmer' stood a house of decent quality and unusual three (four if the large attic was counted) story house that held an unfortunate but not uncommon story related to the ones living there.

The Kizami family (then just a newlywed husband and his wife; who was pregnant with their first son) had arrived in the neighborhood almost thirty years ago. The father having a well paying job and the mother a financially stable family to rely on, bought the house with money to live a long comfortable life, where they then raised a large picturesque family who were by all accounts normal.

It was only a year ago when that picture shattered. 

The divorce was the talk of many because of the plethora of details getting leaked out into the public, the most controversial of which was that the husband (Tomaru) had allegedly cheated on his then wife with at least ten other women, young and old, married and single; as the physicist later told the old man while they're sitting together on the later's lawn: Tomaru must have been starving! He ate up any piece of meat he could find.

But in the end the verdict was (much to the surprise of anyone who followed the scandalous case) a win for Tomaru (his surname once again Sawagoe) with him claiming a majority of assets, despite the mountain of evidence stacked against him. 

A common consensus among the onlookers and gossip mongers was that he used his influence to call in a favor or two, allowing him to pull off what should have been a complete and objective open and shut case. Another far more likely, or at least the most believable, reason was that Sawa settled out of court, not wanting the messy affair to hurt her children any more than it already had.

On the subject of Kizami children: the former couple had between each other one daughter and two sons.

The oldest was Kouki who was now said to be in the workforce at a somewhat distant chemical factory. He was once thought of as a polite man who had almost feminine features and a frail build, kind and soft spoken. He wasn't particularly notable, but no one who had spoken to the twenty-nine year old would say anything negative about him.

The story goes that Kouki was in a heated argument with his girlfriend in their shared apartment which depending on the speaker, it had become a common occurrence, the reason (as far as the neighborhood who heard the arguments through the thin walls could claim) was something related to the girlfriend's job. Whether it was because she was working too much or something less mundane was unknown.

According to the neighbor who recounted the story (the one who lived right next door) the verbal spat had changed for the worse. The sounds of arguing were cut off by a loud sharp sound and then only a moment later a sudden violent crash. The next minutes before the police arrived were filled with the sounds of violence and screaming (both pain and rage) and loud banging as the most courageous among the residents tried to force their way into the apartment.

The rumor continues that when the doors were finally opened the once decent looking apartment was trashed, appliances crushed, walls cracked, glass shattered, blood staining the floor, the rage behind the destruction was transparent.

They say (if one were to believe it) that Kouki was taken to a hospital in an ambulance, strapped to a cart: his face swollen, his neck in a brace, breathing through an oxygen mask.

The girlfriend was last seen being driven off in the back of a police car, her face was expressionless with not even a single scratch on her.

The middle child (and the only daughter) was called Haruna. 

Haruna was a figure of admiration in her local neighborhood, school and every other she graced her presence with because she was smart, beautiful, tough, tall and stern. She was known for being the head of the gardening club and frequently being seen eating ice-cream of one flavor or another.

It was also known that if she saw an injustice, Haruna would not hesitate to not only make her opinion known, but enforce it if the need arose. That characteristic of Haruna was said to have been demonstrated on many occasions, in both public and private spaces.

Those who met her had (unless they saw her more stern side) nothing but nice things to say about her, believing that, as she frequently talked about it, Haruna had a bright future in the field of floral science ahead of her.

It was that quality that went from a once admirable (if worrying) quality in her time in highschool to a detriment to her others in college.

The story was (or at least it was believed to be) that her assertiveness and temper began getting worse as the weight of the excessive workload and once Haruna had become aware of her parents messy divorce she started lashing out at people. At first for justifiable reasons and then for any excuse she could find. 

All of this pressure culminated in Haruna one day (about two months to half a year before) being kicked out of the college after an encounter with someone who was either a fellow classmate, a neglectful boyfriend or a strict teacher turned violent. 

The last anyone had heard, Haruna was either working in a rundown shop or jobless living off of her parents' wealth. 

There was also a rumor of her participating in activities of dubious legality. Violent or sexual, no one either knew or was stupid enough to ask anyone who does.

The youngest child, being only sixteen years old, was called Yuuya.

Yuuya was in many ways a combination of his siblings. Tall and strong like his sister, with a sharp appearance like his brother, but in a masculine way. He was known by many to be quiet but stoic, those who don't truly know him would even go as far as to say that he was introverted. 

He was regarded by many as a decent if quiet young man, known for not getting into any trouble besides what would be expected of someone his age. Some would even say that he was a good, helpful kid.

They would even go as far as to say that he wouldn't hurt a fly.

There were of course rumors about him, strange behavior, odd packages being delivered, deep holes being found, but there were never any stories of violence surrounding him.

Yuuya was considered normal if strange. But most of all, he was (for those that cared) mysterious.

But that brings up an important question: where was Yuuya? 

———

The sound of retching could be heard as Yuuya continued to vomit into the subway bathroom toilet, he wasn't quite sure why his dinner was coming back up, but it was incredibly unpleasant.

Could it have, perhaps, been the chicken he had left out by accident for a few days before baking it for dinner?

No, that couldn't be it.

The unpleasant aspect of human biology continued to work wonders for several long painful minutes before he finally felt better, walked to the sink to wash his face, and then resumed puking into the once clean sink for an even longer time.

Once his burning stomach was, he hoped, empty of the vile undercooked chicken, he used the water from the sink to wash the disgusting taste from his mouth and retrieved a blue toothbrush and a mint green flavored toothpaste from his large shopping bag and went to work cleaning up his mouth, before spitting it out and looking at himself in the foggy mirror and feeling distinctly unsatisfied with what he saw.

"What a miserable day." he asked his reflection, who for whatever reason doesn't respond back to his not at all rhetorical question, "do you think it's going to get better?"

It was in those short moments, after Yuuya uttered the most stupid question in the world but before the sound of violence started, loud and close enough that it echoed through the dirty bathroom, that Yuuya realized that today would be one of 'those' days.

"... shit." Yuuya let out a sigh of pure frustration as he stomped out of the restroom to greet whatever form that day's disaster decided to take.

Yuuya upon seeing the "disaster" felt both disappointed and relieved.

The cause of tonight's trouble was an underdeveloped stump of a boy who looked had a palpable aura that can only be called underwhelming, with a chin-length bowel cut of sandy blonde hair. He was roughly his age, maybe younger, with skin like crumpled drawing paper. He was wearing a formal black suit and matching pants, it was the kind of outfit that Yuuya had seen at boring parties and school events that involved pointless small talk with the students of other academies that like him would rather be anywhere else.

The well-dressed school boy was, literally, kicking a man while he was down. The much older man was wearing dirty winter clothing, he had a square face that was tight with pain, he long unkempt hair and a bushy beard. Yuuya immediately recognized him. 

He was (or at least looked like) a homeless man, Yuuya had seen him a few times during his walks or sitting outside the local convenience store. Yuuya didn't know his name or anything else about him, Yuuya hadn't even spoken to him, the moans of pain were the sounds he had ever heard from him.

Yuuya watched for a long moment, the only sound was groaning, sadistic laughter and of course the kicking, he looked at his bandaged hand they were covering extensive bruising and deep cuts. 

For a moment, he thought about just walking away and act like he hadn't seen anything. He could go home and relax. 

He could get some sleep.

And then that moment passed. 

No matter what, that wasn't him anymore.

Yuuya doesn't announce his presence as strode up to the boy and socked him in his hideous haircut.

The difference in size and weight became apparent as Yuuya's blow sent the asshole stumbling forward before tripping over his feet and landing flat on his face.

Yuuya turned to the homeless man who was looking up at him, his face bruised and covered in his own blood, but expressionless, like it had been chiseled out of granite. 

Yuuya was reaching his hand out to pick the homeless man up and he noticed that the asshole, his face was round and puffy, like an overripe tomato and much like a tomato his face was a deep hostile red.

His eyes were two different colors: the left a dull blue and the right a bright red.

"You bitch! You brainless prick! Why did you hit me?" He yelled, his grating tone made Yuuya wince, his ears feeling like someone was shoving needles into them. "Why would you hit me?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" Yuuya replied to get over dramatic asshole to shut up, "I did it because you're ugly," he smiled at the outraged look on the 'Tomato boys' face, "and I thought that I would do you the favor of giving you free plastic surgery."

That sounded much cooler in Yuuya's head.

"I can't believe you would say that! I am Nobuki Terumi: The Scarlet Guru! and I am beautiful! More beautiful and awesome than you!" Nobuki proclaimed while looking down his nose at the taller Yuuya who, as the spiel continued, wondered how his life ended up going in this direction, "and you are garbage, time to burn Kizami-san!"

"How do you know-"

Nobuki raised his hands and formed them into a hand sign of an inverted triangle. He looked through the triangle at Yuuya as if he was aiming a gun, his right eye glaring at him.

It was then that Yuuya noticed that the red eye had a slit pupil, a contact? It fit the clear chunni tendencies Nobuki was displaying.

"I am Wrath Lord of the all consuming fire!" Nobuki shouted with all of his might, loud enough to hurt Yuuya's ears, "Of dark passion! Burn down to your liar core!" The red eye narrowed in rage, "Abyssal Eye Of Utter Hatred: Release!"

The loud loud chant echoed through the subway station, nothing else happened.

No fire or hatred.

The only Nobuki had was making Yuuya rub his ears, very irritated as the lunatic noticed that whatever was supposed to happen, didn't.

Yuuya saw movement in the corner of his eye, it was the homeless man was crawling around a pillar and out of sight.

But for a moment, just before he disappeared, his eyes met Yuuya's.

Beneath his stoicism was worry.

"... My lord? Where are you? My Dark Lord please please tell me," Nobuki voice was a whisper now and frail, "please tell me… the sacrifices, the parasites, six bled… six dead in one night, for you." He held his arms out, "tell me, why can't I, your most faithful servant, use your wrathful eye?"

Yuuya decided that this clearly deranged chunni psycho had had his fun. Beating a defenseless homeless man and admitting to allegedly (the "Scarlet Guru" was probably just spouting dark edgy nonsense) killing six people in one night was fair grounds to break his hands, big mouth and everything else.

Yuuya approached the almost kneeling Nobuki. His fists clenched, ready to beat the gawking psycho before calling the authorities.

"I think… you know why," a voice answered, "it's obvious… it should be obvious."

Yuuya stopped.

The one who had answered Nobuki was Nobuki himself, his head lulled back, posture relaxed. His tone level and normal, pleasant even.

"Your momma and papa must have taught you the fine art of making deals, didn't they?" 'Nobuki' continued, "it's all about first impressions."

Nobuki rose to his feet, his hands gripping his own throat, eyes staring ahead unfocused, like he was sleep walking.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but I remember the deal going like this: my power for blood and pain." He stressed his words while Yuuya his march towards Nobuki, whose face was contorting into many unpleasant emotions, "it was vague, open to interpretation. It was on purpose I wanted to see how you would-"

Yuuya grabbed Nobuki by the cuff of his jacket and clocked him in the chin, his full weight behind the strike.

"-react? Who would you choose? In what manner would you sacrifice them," he continued as Yuuya looked at him baffled, the punch barely phasing him, "the first three offerings were good, great even. Your father begged, your mother pleaded and your little brother whimpered all the while, their blood, your blood, was pleasing, I approve-"

This time Yuuya punched Nobuki twice, chin and stomach, putting everything he had into it.

"One moment." 

Yuuya was staring up at the ceiling, the flickering lights above hurting his eyes, the ache from his chest dulled by shock.

"I approved of that. Everything after that? Amateur work," he said, "I liked your plan with… Kishimoto was it? Yes, her and her family. But tell me… what went wrong?" 

"My apologies… " Nobuki resurfaced and made sound's that could be pleading or even whimpering while Yuuya managed to get to his feet. "This one has no excuse… that vapid succubus wasn't there!"

"Yes yes, she was at the hospital. She tried to end her suffering with a… razor blade?" 'Nobuki' questioned out loud before continuing, "yes, she attempted suicide via razor to her fleshy wrists. That mistake was fine. It's your first night, everyone makes mistakes, no bother, all is forgiven."

"What bothered me was your actions after that. What you did to Kishimoto's family was… the idea was good, the problem was that you went too far too quickly, they immediately went into shock, there was almost no suffering. The young one had an impressive pain tolerance and even she only lasted for ten minutes and four seconds." 'Nobuki' made a clicking sound with his tongue, distaste evident. "So disappointing. Your going to need to learn how to pace yourself, find the sweet spot in your sacrifices. I might just send a senior disciple over to show the ropes."

Yuuya considered his options as the truth of the situation weighed down on him. He was in danger and there were two possibilities: 

Nobuki was crazy. Strong for his size, maybe even on something that let's him use the full power of the human body, like PCP.

Or he wasn't crazy and the situation that Yuuya had found himself in was far worse than he could possibly imagine.

"I could have accepted all of that, I'm not without compassion or understanding." He drew the last word out, "but… for your final sacrifice, in place Kishimoto Kei, you choose a complete and utter stranger that you would have killed via a straight forward beating; the most boring death possible." He emphasized every syllable, "I will admit, I was insulted. I thought about killing you. I almost did, truthfully."

The expression (a mixture of pain and pleasure) went away, replaced by acceptance.

"My lord… kill me, hurt me forever, this one deserves no less."

Yuuya decided then and there to leave, he wasn't prepared for whatever was about to happen. He would deal with it later, when he was prepared.

He doesn't make it one step.

"My dearest servant. Your initiation is not over yet, one sacrifice remains." The thing inside Nobuki pointed at Yuuya, "I like this one, there is something peculiar about him. Take him, hurt him, break him. Make Kizami unrecognizable before you slay him and the leave the remains on display." 'Nobuki' nodded to himself. "Be my instrument, claim his soul."

It was too late.

"Yes! Of course!" Nobuki shouted at the top of his lungs, his enthusiasm returned, "I, the Scarlet Guru, will take this… thing," he said as Yuuya knowing that running won't help, prepared himself, "it will be butchered and offered on the finest platter, oh great one."

Nobuki (now fully himself again) looked demented, he took something from his belt, it like a fish gutting knife was twisted and etched with strange symbols and drenched in drying blood.

He lunged forward, knife outstretched in a loose grip , his path guaranteed that the blade would pierce Yuuya's stomach, his fast and surprise ensured that Yuuya wouldn't be able to move out of the way.

Yuuya turned with his lunge. The blade left a small cut on his shirt, but missed his flesh by the width of a finger. Yuuya's knee caught Nobuki in the stomach, the angle of the attack and the power behind his lunge made go over and slam his head into the cement ground, knocking the knife out of his hand, the blade skidding far out of reach.

Yuuya followed up his takedown by slamming himself down onto Nobuki's back. One knee on his spine, the other putting pressure on Nobuki's right arm. Yuuya wrapped his large forearms around his neck and began flexing, content that Nobuki would be out like a light within a few moments.

Nobuki grabbed Yuuya's arms, squeezed them tight in a steel grip and stood up, Yuuya dangling helplessly on his back. Nobuki, who was barely five foot and somewhat chubby, lifted Yuuya, an almost six and half foot wall of muscle, like he weighed next to nothing.

And then a howling rasping Nobuki sprinted forward, towards one of the subway's large concrete pillars. Yuuya, desperate to dismount from the fiery eyed bull, kicked at Nobuki's ribs, tighten his hold, and drag his feet along the floor.

Yuuya bit down on his ear. Chewing, grinding and pulling, anything to get Nobuki to let go.

But he failed, Nobuki rammed into the pillar, twisting around at the last second to land back first. Yuuya took the full force of the impact.

And then there was nothing.

No sight or sound.

Yuuya found it comforting, he swam through it, a moment stretched on forever.

But then lucidity, unwelcome as always, reasserted itself and Yuuya was on his aching back, for a long moment eye searing light poured was all he could see before everything came back into focus.

Next to him, Nobuki stood up on shaking feet, one arm against the column, gasping and sweating like he had just run a marathon. He looked down on Yuuya.

He couldn't understand why that was so difficult. He should be faster than a mere human, stronger too, regardless of size. Tough enough that no chokehold would affect him. He had seen Setsuna (the person who inspired Nobuki's dark descent) lift a car above her head. And she had done it with one hand.

The ritual, I only possess a part of that strength. I need to complete it to become like her, strong like her, he concluded, satisfied with his delusions. 

Yuuya sat up, back against the pillar, he saw his shopping bag laying where the current conflict had begun. He remembered what was inside of it and felt stupid. He also noticed something else.

Something was missing. 

"You feeble fool! You little insect! In what world, what reality, do you think you could ever prevail against the Scarlet Guru!" As per usual, Nobuki shouted all of that at the top of his lungs, once again hurting Yuuya's ears, "you aren't worthy of licking my feet, you mortal. You couldn't…"

Adrenaline was an amazing thing. It could allow for one to push themselves to their limit and to ignore (for a time) the consequences.

All of the Adrenaline in the world wouldn't allow Nobuki to ignore the trail of blood on the lips of the "mortal". 

Yuuya spat something out, it plopped against the floor. It was small, wet and red.

Nobuki touched his ringing ear, he felt nothing, he saw that his hand was covered in blood.

"My… ear?"

Yuuya said nothing, a bloody grin splitting his face.

"My ear! My ear!" Nobuki began screaming, the pain finally reaching him. "You son of a bitch!" he lashed out with a kick aimed for Yuuya's face.

Unfortunately for Nobuk, Yuuya was ready.

As Nobuki launched his sloppy kick, Yuuya lifted his own leg up. 

The substantial difference in the length of their legs showed through as Nobuki's well polished shoe doesn't get anywhere close to Yuuya's face while Yuuya's outstretched foot meets Nobuki's ballsack, the force of Nobuki's attack works against him, while the leverage from from being braced against the concrete pillar meant that Yuuya doesn't move a single inch.

Nobuki stumbled back a few steps before standing straight, appearing unphased by the nutshot that had just been inflicted on him.

"Kizami…" he growled out as he stomped towards Yuuya, "you…"

Nobuki toppled over, the wave of indescribable pain finally hitting him.

"Ah… oh… " he moaned on the ground, clutching his aching balls. "Why?"

Yuuya burst to his feet and jumped on Nobuki, foot to jaw and sprinted towards the bag, his great stride leaving the groaning Nobuki behind.

"You're not very good at this." Yuuya heard Nobuki say behind him, once again having that normal casual tone, "a mortal, no matter how big, should not be beating one of mine. I invested my power into you. Why aren't you winning?"

Yuuya picked up the plastic bag and rummaged through it, pushing aside groceries and hygienic products to find something that he wished he had prepared earlier.

"I'm sorry my lord," Nobuki responded as Yuuya dumped the contents of the bag onto the ground. "This lowly disciple will do better."

Nobuki stood up, ear bleeding, jaw red and balls aching, but still in much better shape than he had any right to be.

Yuuya felt relieved as he found what he was looking for: bear spray.

He was in the arduous process of attempting to remove the spray can of pain from its sturdy plastic packaging when he was hit with a full-body tackle to his legs.

Yuuya spun end over end and hit the ground, landing on, and squashing, about ten thousand yen worth of stuff and knocking the wind of him for the second time in five minutes. 

"You son of a bitch." Nobuki picked Yuuya off the ground by his neck and arm. "You hurt me!" Nobuki squeezed, his fingers digging into the flesh of Yuuya's elbow, drawing blood. His other hand was like a vice grip around his throat. I'm going… you're dead!"

Yuuya was too disoriented to put up much of a resistance as he was strangled, only a few useless hits before he lost the ability to even do that. His head was spinning and his vision darkened, until only a pinprick of light remained. Nobuki was shaking him violently and shouting as the world faded away leaving Yuuya floating once again in that peaceful abyss.

"You deserve this! My lord will be pleased," he screamed, not at all remembering that his 'lord' explicitly told him to make Yuuya suffer and not choke him into unconsciousness, followed by death. He reached into his pocket "I'm going to skin you alive with… huh?"

It was in that moment when Nobuki that the Sin Cutter (the name he had dubbed the knife used to carve up his family) wasn't in his pocket. He remembered that he dropped it in the opening of the fight. 

It was also at that moment when Nobuki finally noticed the same thing Yuuya had: the Sin Cutter wasn't where it had fallen earlier.

The homeless man jumped on Nobuki's back, wrapped his arm around his neck, elbow to windpipe and plunged Sin Cutter into his red slit eye.

For a moment there was silence as Nobuki dropped a gasping Yuuya, not comprehending what was going on or anything else as the hole where his eye used to be was leaking blood, sparks erupting from the blade.

And then he screamed and flailed. The homeless man, face sour and angry, slashed at Nobuki's face, not quite succeeding in gouging Nobuki's throat out.

Yuuya rose, watching the spectacle before going to retrieve his own weapon. 

Above a booming voice announced the arrival of a train, right on schedule. 

Nobuki threw the homeless man off of him using the same unholy power that allowed him to stay alive despite the fatal damage he had just sustained. His reward was Yuuya spraying him in the face with the now unpacked bear mace, the irritants going into the holes where his eye and ear were, he shrieked as his world became one of pain.

As that happened, Yuuya noticed that there was a faint light at the end of the train tunnel and it was approaching fast. He dropped the can and went for a more appropriate weapon.

Nobuki does not get a chance to capitalize on Yuuya's distraction as he was too busy dealing with another pressing issue: the homeless man, who was still on his stomach, stabbing Nobuki's achilles, twisting the Sin Cutter around and finally pulling out the knife, severing the tendon into two separate pieces making the moaning, crying, screaming Scarlet Guru fall to his knees.

Yuuya stomped towards one of the subway's smaller benches, grasped the edge of the bottom and pulled. For a few moments nothing happened, the screws keeping it connected to the ground were doing an exemplary job. 

And then with a grunt, Yuuya pulled harder. There was a painful sound of meeting its match and deforming under the pressure and then the former resting spot was no longer connected to anything. 

Yuuya walked over to Nobuki, the latter was too busy clutching at the unrecognizable bleeding lump of flesh that used to be his face to notice the former lifting his impromptu weapon above his head.

And then Yuuya took out the trash.

———

Later, when the first detective's arrived at the scene and saw the state of the remains they of course deemed it murder. A person being trisected by a train, with clear signs of other gruesome injuries? Murder.

When they watched the blurry footage from the camera's, murder became self-defense.

And then those very same detectives entered the home of the deceased.

What they found there was indescribable.

The next day, it would be discovered that the neighboring Kishimoto family (with the exception of a then hospitalized daughter) had also been murdered by the suspect.

As the occult symbols were being photographed, men and women in suits carrying strange devices arrived, the police were dismissed. What was once a murder spree ending in one of the victims successfully fighting off the attack became a murder-suicide.

By then the subway station reopened, clean and pristine with the only reminder being a 'dumb' rumor.

Everything was ok.

In other news Public Security was the lookout for a middle aged man with a shaggy beard and a tall young adult.

———

Yuuya looked up at the sky, he was breathing heavily, his back hurt and he was covered in seasoning and toothpaste.

But what else was new? 

More importantly he was still alive.

And things started connecting in his mind, bubbling to the surface. Something deep inside of him was beginning to wake up.

The homeless man had finished wiping off his yellow tinted slightly cracked glasses. His gaze was on Yuuya. He looked far too focused and composed than you'd expect for a drifter who had just gotten out of a fight to the death with…whatever Nobuki was.

A ring echoed through the alley, sharp and irritating. A reminder of normality in the middle of this bunch of strange events. Yuuya looked at his phone: a text message.

TV MAN: It's almost ready. Come by tonight, usual place.

That name brought back memories, all bizarre, impossible and nonsensical.

Some were even gruesome.

Such as two words (or perhaps a title?) that kept repeating over and over, echoing through his mind.

Corpse Party

Whatever that meant.

"Interesting." The homeless man walked away, not even sparing Yuuya a glance.

"Where are you going?" his voice was monotone, numbed. Even by his standards what happened was a lot.

"Coffee."

For a moment, Yuuya watched the old man walk away before putting his jacket into the trash and followed.

Coffee sounded good.