Tokyo's skyline pulsed with life. Neon lights bled into the darkening sky, while the spring breeze carried the sweet scent of cherry blossoms drifting across a quiet, fenced-off park. A circular fountain murmured at its centre, water glinting under the pale glow of streetlamps.
On its edge stood a girl, no older than Kira herself, seventeen, perhaps eighteen, with long crimson hair tied into uneven twin tails, the tips dipped in a subtle green that shimmered like wet paint under the lights. A slender yet mature figure framed by her loose jacket and thigh-high boots. Beside her lay a weathered black bag that hummed faintly with weight… And purpose.
