049. Nightfall, Escape Plan

"Screech—"

The door opened.

Having a large house isn't actually a good thing; it makes the process of opening the door somewhat cumbersome.

Yet once all these tedious obstacles are cleared away, what remains is a boundless and smooth path.

Wakaba Mutsu "walked" out of her house alongside Nagumo Ugetsu.

She had never imagined that the two of them could actually just stroll right out through the front door so openly, without a single person noticing.

Furthermore, Wakaba Mutsu had never imagined that the front door, outside of which she usually hesitated every time she returned home, could be exited with such seamless ease today.

In truth, cages are not as terrifying as one expects; what truly locks people away are mostly their own inner demons.

When they rushed out of the house, her speed instinctively wanted to quicken, but seeing Nagumo Ugetsu unhurried and as composed as if he were simply returning home, her heart settled down considerably instead.

Within Wakaba Mutsu's "field of vision," shadows seemed to flash past the edges of the two figures, as if screening out something.

"So... he is just like me."

The very last trace of worry in the depths of Wakaba Mutsu's heart vanished, and as she stepped out of the house, she casually pulled the front door shut behind her.

Now, Wakaba Mutsu felt that having a large estate wasn't so bad after all, because the distances were so vast and the soundproofing inside was so exceptional that even rushing out the front door wouldn't draw an immediate glance from the guests in the grand hall.

Nagumo Ugetsu harbored much the same thought.

Yet in reality, under the blessing of the "Precepts" Spiritual Word, the maids in the Wakaba household were utterly incapable of discovering the two of them.

Under the shroud of the "Precepts," everything fell into utter silence, and even sensory perception was blocked.

"Huh? Is someone still keeping watch outside?"

Within the domain of Nagumo Ugetsu's "Precepts," his acute senses detected the figures of a few half-breeds lingering in the surroundings.

They were dressed in various ways; some looked like white-collar workers who had just gotten off work and were smoking by the roadside, while others looked like young bosozoku members, sporting rebellious punk hairstyles...

They all wore colored contact lenses, and the aura about them completely blended into the surrounding environment, making it impossible for ordinary people to detect anything unusual.

Yet all of this was laid bare under the "Precepts."

"This attire..."

"The Snake Qi Eight Families?"

Nagumo Ugetsu's thoughts shifted.

"It seems the guests entertained by the Wakaba family tonight truly possess extraordinary identities, which is why Wakaba Mutsu's parents attach such great importance to them."

"Earlier, I indeed sensed the presence of a few half-breeds inside the Wakaba estate, and I was somewhat puzzled at first. It seems the guests inside truly include members of the Snake Qi Eight Families."

"As for Wakaba Mutsu's parents..."

"The other half-breeds inside the Wakaba estate are most likely them, though the possibility of other guests cannot be ruled out."

Thinking thus, Nagumo Ugetsu took Wakaba Mutsu's hand and walked toward a motorcycle parked nearby.

It was a CB400F with a very spacious frame. Ordinary bosozoku members would never buy such a fine motorcycle, and Nagumo Ugetsu did not look like the kind of person who would buy one either.

Apparently noticing the confusion of Wakaba Mutsu beside him, Nagumo Ugetsu smiled and explained:

"I borrowed this yesterday from a teacher of mine. Come to think of it, he looks so refined and easy-going, yet I never expected the motorcycle he bought to be so wild."

"We have a great relationship. He was the one who recommended me to transfer to Tsukinomori Academy in the first place, back when I was still at Kamogawa Central Junior High."

"Well, having many friends does have its perks. This is an absolute anti-pursuit artifact."

"Come on, get on the bike."

The two of them hurried over to the motorcycle.

Once Wakaba Mutsu was seated securely, the engine roared to life.

Nagumo Ugetsu deliberately emitted a false aura to guide the operatives of the Snake Qi Eight Families into lowering their guard.

Within the sensory range of the "Precepts," several members of the Snake Qi Eight Families stationed nearby spotted the figures of Nagumo Ugetsu and Wakaba Mutsu. One of them feigned a phone call:

"Looks like the daughter of the house's owner?"

"Never mind them; we aren't here to worry about their daughter's teenage issues. We just need to focus on the family head's safety; don't bother with anything else."

"Right."

The men shifted their postures, continued to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary, and silently monitored the situation inside the Wakaba residence.

On the other side,

it was Wakaba Mutsu's first time riding a motorcycle.

To be precise, it was her first time being carried by someone else to speed through the city nightscape.

Buzz—Whoosh!

The motorcycle engine accelerated abruptly.

Wakaba Mutsu's heart gave a violent jolt, and she closed her eyes. She only opened them again after the speed had gradually stabilized from its explosive burst.

The wind rushed against her face.

The nightscape scattered like ink wash, and the streetlights rapidly stretched into lines beside them.

She recalled the old tune she had played last time—"Wind Poem."

Now she finally understood some of the mood and imagery of the wind.

As the only daughter of the Wakaba family, Wakaba Mutsu had ridden in countless luxury cars, but that cold, isolated feeling of being enclosed had never once given her a sense of being "alive."

Only now.

As she thought this, the wind poured into her cuffs, sending a tingling jolt through her body.

Wakaba Mutsu leaned close to Nagumo Ugetsu's ear and whispered softly:

"Slow down a bit."

Unfortunately, the wind was too strong, and Nagumo Ugetsu couldn't clearly make out what she was saying; he only felt the warm, gentle breath of the young girl brush against his ear.

With no other choice, Wakaba Mutsu pressed her legs tightly against the sides of the motorcycle, making the hem of her clothes cling even closer.

The motorcycle tore through a long street, trailing light in its wake.

By the roadside, streetlamps flashed past the corners of her eyes one by one.

"So fast..."

Wakaba Mutsu said to herself.

At first, having never experienced anything like this, she felt a trace of tension in her heart.

But soon, she realized she wasn't all that frightened anymore.

Her heart was beating wildly, but that wasn't fear—it was exhilaration.

As they passed through Ginza, store clerks were just arranging new seasonal outfits in the display windows by the roadside; a woman in high heels stood at the entrance of a nightclub making a phone call, her voice broken and carried away by the wind; outside a convenience store, someone was eating oden, plumes of steam rising into the cold wind.

Every spot of light, every sound, seemed to remind her: You are outside now.

Not at home, not beside the banquet hall, not under the spotlight anymore.

The corners of her lips curved upward just a fraction. Her fingertips lightly brushed against Nagumo's back, then quickly pulled back.

Nagumo Ugetsu picked up the speed a notch further.

For some reason, he recalled videos he had seen before of blond delinquents racing motorcycles and breaking through police cordons. Although the scene was different from the present, Nagumo Ugetsu found himself associating it with phrases like "Though millions bar my way, I will go."

They turned from the main road into a side street, then dove from the side street into the lower tier of an elevated highway, riding through the deepest crevices of the city.

Wakaba Mutsu saw someone doing graffiti under a bridge, a large patch of pink paint still wet, reflecting a faint sheen under the streetlamp.

She saw a group of teenagers leaning against a convenience store entrance, laughing and drinking.

She also saw a girl riding a small scooter past them in a flash, the wires of her earphones whipping like white ribbons through the night.

These people, these sights—she had never witnessed them before in her past life.

Yet now, she was right in the middle of it all, one of them.

Wakaba Mutsu said nothing. Her hands slowly let go of the rear seat and hesitantly wrapped around Nagumo Ugetsu's waist.

At first it was just a light touch, then she hugged him a bit tighter, and finally, she pressed her face against his back.

At that moment,

the motorcycle was speeding forward along the elevated highway, shooting like an arrow into the darkest part of the city.

The night sky seemed to split open, and through that crack, the stars spilled between the skyscrapers, sticking bit by bit to the corners of Wakaba Mutsu's eyes.

They rode out of the downtown area, passed through the industrial zone, and entered a mountain road so dark the edges were invisible.

Finally,

accompanied by a crisp "click,"

the motorcycle came to a halt.