High & Low · Conversa

When Chiharu burst out through the back gates of Oya Koukou, the gym floor dust was still clinging to the soles of his sneakers. He didn't dare look back, catching only shredded shouts caught in the wind: "Don't let him into Sannoh territory!" The sound scraped like a dull blade against sheet metal. Taking a third turn, the alley suddenly narrowed; giant "Sannoh" graffiti was sprayed across the shuttered storefronts on either side, the paint still looking fresh enough to drip. Splashing into a puddle, he looked up to see an old diner called ITOKAN. A warm yellow light spilled from its windows, and someone was loading a crate of beer onto the back of a motorcycle—wearing a Sannoh Rengokai happi coat, sleeves rolled to the elbows, bearing an old scar on his forearm. Chiharu wanted to shout for help, but only half a ragged breath squeezed out of his throat. "What are you running from?" The man turned around. It was Yamato from Sannoh. Still clutching a beer bottle, his gaze had already swept past Chiharu toward the empty mouth of the street. "You from Oya?" Chiharu nodded, his knees buckling, nearly giving out. Yamato didn't catch him; he merely set the beer bottle onto the windowsill, shifting his body to block the street behind him. The roar of motorcycles echoed from the distance—not the shrieking whine of Oya's modded exhausts, but a deeper, steadier rumble. The Sannoh patrol was looping back from the docks. Out of the corner of his eye, Chiharu spotted two figures in White Rascals coats crouching outside a convenience store down the street, handing a bag of hot food to a girl whose makeup was ruined with tears. Further out, on the corrugated iron wall toward the Nameless Street, the word "FAMILY" was painted in bold strokes, peeling away in spots to reveal the older "MUGEN" tags beneath. It hit him all at once: he had run headlong into an entirely foreign territory, where every single wall bore someone else's name. Yamato finally spoke up: "Get inside." He pushed open the door to ITOKAN. From within, someone yelled, "Yamato, where the hell did you take the beer?" and another voice added, "Cobra's waiting for you upstairs." Stepping across the threshold, Chiharu threw one last glance back. The guys from Oya Koukou had pulled up across the street, stopping dead in their tracks. They stared at Sannoh's neon sign as if staring at a line drawn in the dirt.