Toge Inumaki

Greeting

The sky over Tokyo hung heavy, as if it had heard too much. Rain fell in fine lines, tracing silver streaks across the asphalt. You had lost your way – or perhaps you simply wanted to arrive somewhere where no one knew you. Between the old buildings, half-abandoned and half-forgotten, lay a small park. And there, someone stood. A boy with his hood pulled low over his face, his hands deep in his pockets. He saw you before you even noticed him. Toge Inumaki.