Tokyo was a cage.
Every corner, every alley, every roadblock—all now part of the trap.
Ryoji's hand clutched Aiko's wrist, pulling her deeper into the shadows. The neon lights of Shibuya flickered ominously above them, casting long, sharp reflections on the rain-slick streets. They couldn't afford to slow down, not for a moment.
Aiko's pulse raced. She couldn't shake the feeling that every camera, every drone, was trained on them. She had seen the flashing billboards—her face, plastered across the city, a warning. Fugitive. Dangerous. Report immediately.
"It's worse than I thought," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. The sound of drones was getting louder, circling in the distance.
Ryoji didn't respond. His focus was absolute, his movements calculated. He was always ten steps ahead.
"Where are we going?" Aiko asked, voice strained.
"Underground. The old way," Ryoji replied, pulling her toward an abandoned building ahead. "We need to get off the streets."
They ducked inside, moving swiftly past graffiti-covered walls and rusted gates. The air inside was damp and heavy, filled with the smell of decay. They descended into a forgotten maintenance tunnel beneath the city, a relic from the times before the Agency's reign.
Ryoji pulled a rusted door open, revealing a narrow passageway lined with old pipes and exposed wires. The air was thick with dust, but at least it was dark—unseen.
"We can't stay here long," Ryoji said. "They'll scan every inch of this city, every crawlspace, every crack. We need to keep moving."
Aiko nodded, but the weight of the situation pressed down on her chest. "What now? They've locked the city down. The Agency knows we're here. They'll hunt us down."
"They won't get us." Ryoji's tone was cold, unyielding. "Not if we don't give them a chance."
Suddenly, a series of high-pitched whines echoed from above—drones, close.
Aiko's heart jumped, but Ryoji had already moved, pulling her deeper into the darkness of the tunnel. They slipped through crumbling concrete, following the old path that Ryoji knew all too well. He had trained for moments like this. It was no longer about survival—it was about staying one step ahead.
Minutes passed in silence. They moved in a practiced rhythm, Aiko following his every step, trusting him completely.
Finally, they reached a hidden entrance—an old elevator shaft that had been sealed off. Ryoji knelt beside it, pulling out a set of tools from his jacket. "This is our way out," he said.
Aiko glanced back. The sound of drones was still close, but she didn't hear any boots on the ground. For now, they were safe.
Ryoji worked quickly, his hands steady despite the tension hanging in the air. After what felt like an eternity, the metal door creaked open, revealing the dim, narrow elevator shaft.
"We take this up," Ryoji said, looking at her. "Stay quiet. We're going to have to move faster now."
Aiko didn't ask questions. There was no time. She stepped inside, following Ryoji as the shaft rumbled to life, taking them upward, deeper into the heart of Tokyo.
The elevator jolted to a stop, its ancient gears grinding in protest. Ryoji's hand shot out to steady Aiko, his eyes scanning the dimly lit space above them.
"There's no turning back now," he muttered.
They emerged into a forgotten underworld of Tokyo—a place untouched by the modern city's gleaming exterior. Concrete tunnels wound like veins through the city, each one a relic of an older, unremembered time. They had descended into what had once been a secret corridor used by high-level officials during the early years of the Agency's rise to power. Now, it was just a graveyard of rust and dust.
Aiko's breath fogged in the cold air. She glanced at Ryoji, trying to keep her composure, though her heart thudded in her chest. Every step felt like they were walking deeper into danger.
"How long until we're out of their reach?" she asked, her voice low.
Ryoji stopped, turning to her. His face was unreadable, as always, but his eyes flickered—just for a second. There was a tension there that Aiko had come to recognize. He wasn't sure. And that worried her.
"We'll need help," he said quietly. "And I know just the person."
Aiko blinked, surprised. "Help? Who?"
Ryoji's gaze flicked to the far end of the tunnel, where the shadows gathered thick. "Someone who owes me... but trust doesn't come easy in this world."
Aiko didn't ask more. She knew better than to question Ryoji's connections. She just followed him as they moved deeper into the maze, the air growing colder as they advanced.
The tunnel narrowed, and after what felt like an eternity of walking, Ryoji stopped in front of a metal door. It was old, almost forgotten, but it bore a symbol Aiko didn't recognize—a small insignia, an ancient mark.
Ryoji knocked three times.
There was a long pause, then a soft click, and the door creaked open just enough for them to slip inside.
The room beyond was dimly lit, its walls lined with old maps and scattered papers. A faint smell of incense lingered in the air. In the center of the room stood a woman, her back turned, facing a row of monitors.
"Ryoji," she said without turning. Her voice was calm, measured. "I wondered when you'd show up."
"Long time, Miura," Ryoji replied. "We need your help."
The woman turned, and Aiko was struck by the sharpness of her eyes—piercing, calculating. She was older than Ryoji, perhaps by a decade, but there was a stillness about her that made her dangerous.
"You think I'd risk my neck for you?" Miura's lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "The Agency's got a hold on the city now. Why should I care about you two?"
"We need to get out of Tokyo," Ryoji said, his voice low, intense. "And we need to do it now. The Agency knows exactly where we are. They won't stop until we're dead."
Miura considered him for a moment, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of the desk. Finally, she exhaled. "Alright. I'll help you."
Aiko blinked, surprised. "Just like that?"
Miura's smile widened, but it was far from reassuring. "It's not charity. You'll owe me more than you can imagine when this is over."
Ryoji didn't flinch. "I'll pay whatever price it is."
"Good," Miura said. "Because the only way out now is through the underground transit system—but... there are risks. The Agency controls the surface, but the underground is still wild. You'll need a guide, and they'll want something in return."
Ryoji nodded. He knew exactly what Miura meant. "We'll take our chances."
She studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Then follow me."
To be continued chapter 12....