The rain started at one in the morning. It was not a storm. It was a steady, cold drizzle that soaked through fabric and settled into bone. Kaito stood at the edge of the Grey District. He checked his watch. The face was cracked. The hands glowed faintly in the dark. He had three hours until dawn. He had four locations.
He adjusted his jacket. The cards inside shifted against his ribs. They felt heavier than paper. They felt like stones. He took a breath. The air tasted of wet rust and ozone. He stepped into the district.
The first crack was in an alley behind a closed noodle shop. It was small. The size of a coin. It hummed with a high frequency. Zephyr floated above his shoulder. She was visible only as a distortion in the rain. The drops avoided her. They curved around her form.
Zephyr said, This one is stubborn. It wants to stay open.
Kaito said, Seal it.
