Two a.m. on Neon Street. A stream ends. A voice begins.
By day, Mashiro is just another psychology student at Minamo University. By night, he chases urban legends through the back alleys of Minamo City, streaming his verifications for an audience that barely exists. Horror doesn't scare him—it thrills him. And the gaps in his own memory? He's never thought to look too closely.
Then a burst of static hijacks his monitor, and a woman's voice slips through the noise: *"I'm sorry, Mashiro-kun."* A
Mashiro's Memories, Akane's Heart - The Fugitives in the Back Alley — The Outline of a Lie and the True Feeling of Wanting to Protect
The neon street at night looked just a little different than usual.
Mashiro Meme stopped in front of an old vending machine at the mouth of a back alley. A black jacket over a white shirt, a red scarf at his neck. Atop his short black hair, a safety-pin hair ornament caught the streetlight in a dull glint. In his hand was a small equipment bag. Inside were a compact camera and a mic for night shooting.
(How long has it been since I met up with someone?)
Mashiro was idly turning that thought over.
Only a few days had passed since Akane Akari had called out to him in the university library. And yet that bright smile wouldn't leave his head. *I watch your streams all the time, senpai.* The ticklish, bashful feeling he'd had when she said it. Having someone acknowledge his streams made him happier than he'd expected.
"Mashiro-kun!"
A voice like a bouncing melody cut through the night air.
He turned, and there was Akane Akari, jogging toward him. Her bright chestnut semi-long hair swayed softly with every step. Her big amber eyes sparkled in the streetlight. She wore a thin cardigan, and on her left wrist was the same slender wristband as always.
"Sorry, did I keep you waiting?"
Akane came to a stop in front of him, slightly out of breath.
"Nope. I just got here too."
"Good. I always arrive way too early for meetups, so I was worried I'd made you wait."
Akane smiled in relief. Watching that smile, Mashiro felt his own nerves loosen on their own.
"So where are we going today?"
"Um, it's about a ten-minute walk from here. In the back alleys off the neon street, there's a place called the 'Vanishing Alley.'"
Akane pulled out her smartphone and opened a map app. The screen showed a map of a tangled maze of narrow lanes.
"It's around here, but there are lots of tiny paths that aren't even on the map, and apparently at night people wander in and get lost. The urban legend says once you go in, you can't get out."
"Huh. Sounds interesting."
Mashiro peered at her phone. Red markers had been drawn along several of the alleys. Akane must have done her homework.
"You really did your research, Akane-san."
When Mashiro said that honestly, Akane's finger stopped for just an instant.
"Huh? Oh—yeah. It's because of your streams, senpai! I've gotten really into urban legends too. And while I was looking into all sorts of things, I found this place."
Akane answered with a smile. But was it just his imagination that the smile looked the tiniest bit stiff?
"Got it. Well then, shall we go?"
Mashiro hitched his equipment bag back up on his shoulder.
"Yeah!"
The two of them set off side by side.
The main drag of the neon street was wrapped in its usual clamor. The calls of izakaya touts, singing spilling out of karaoke boxes, the gaudy electronic noise of the arcade. The light of countless signs bled into the asphalt.
But the moment they turned into the back alley, the air changed completely.
The noise of the main street receded as if it had never been, replaced by a cool night air that clung to the skin. The streetlights thinned out, and the alley plunged abruptly into darkness. Old flyers pasted to the walls fluttered and rustled in the wind.
"This really is the same city, huh."
Mashiro said it while looking around.
"Yeah. People hardly ever come through the back alleys, even in daytime. And at night it's especially quiet."
Akane's voice had gotten a little smaller.
They walked in silence for a while. Only their footsteps echoed through the narrow lane.
(I don't mind this feeling.)
Mashiro liked the quiet of the night. Freed from the noise of the day, it felt like he could reclaim time that belonged only to him. Having Akane beside him was, strangely, comfortable too.
"Mashiro-kun."
Akane spoke up, quietly.
"Hm?"
"How've your streams been lately?"
"Hmm, so-so, I guess. My viewer count's still tiny."
"Is that so. But I watch every single one. Your streams are genuinely fun, senpai."
Akane said it while peering up into his face. She was close enough that Mashiro felt a flicker of confusion.
"...Thanks."
Mashiro looked ahead, as if to hide his embarrassment.
"By the way, in one of your recent streams, there was that episode with the awful noise, right? Was your equipment acting up?"
At her words, Mashiro's feet nearly stopped.
(That recent stream... she means the one where I played the solo hide-and-seek.)
That night, after the stream ended, Mashiro had seen the bizarre footage on his monitor and heard that woman's voice. *I'm sorry, Mashiro-kun.* Even now, whenever he tried to recall it, a dull ache spread deep in his head.
"...Yeah, well, probably a loose connection. It's a cheap mic."
Mashiro couldn't bring himself to tell Akane about that night.
"I see. But that noise wasn't really normal, you know. I rewatched that stream over and over."
Akane's voice took on a faintly serious tone.
"...Over and over?"
"Yeah. Because it felt like there was a voice mixed into that noise."
Something deep in Mashiro's chest gave a heavy throb.
"A voice?"
"No—maybe I imagined it. I've got really good ears, so I pick up sounds I shouldn't even be able to hear."
Akane laughed it off. But her eyes weren't laughing.
Mashiro didn't press her further.
(Does Akane-san know something?)
No—that couldn't be. Akane was just a kouhai, a viewer of his streams. There was no way she could know about that night.
Mashiro pushed the small stir of unease that had risen in his chest out of his mind.
"Oh, Mashiro-kun, look. Over there."
Where Akane pointed, there was the entrance to a narrow alley.
It wasn't even a meter wide. The walls of the buildings on either side pressed close, and the far end sank into darkness. At the alley's mouth, a single faded red paper lantern swayed in the wind.
"So this is the 'Vanishing Alley'?"
"Yeah. According to the map, if you go through this alley you should come out on another street, but... depending on who goes in, they end up circling the same spot forever."
Mashiro stared hard into the depths of the alley.
(I see. This really is worth investigating.)
Mashiro took the compact camera from his equipment bag and powered it on. The red lamp on the lens lit up.
"Well then, let's go in."
"Yeah. I'll come with you."
The two of them stepped into the narrow alley.
In that instant, the sounds around them vanished.
The clamor of the main street, the wind, the distant hum of cars—all of it receded. As if this alley alone had been severed from the world.
"...It's quiet."
Akane said it in a small voice.
"Yeah. It's a strange feeling."
Mashiro advanced slowly, camera raised.
The alley was longer than he'd expected. Every ten meters or so it turned at a right angle. It was like a maze.
"On the map, I think it was around here that we go left..."
Akane checked her smartphone. But the map on the screen didn't seem able to display the alley's complicated shape accurately.
"GPS doesn't seem to be responding properly. Maybe this alley really isn't on any map."
"Huh. Interesting."
If anything, Mashiro's curiosity was growing.
(So this is the urban legend's 'Vanishing Alley.' It really does mess with your sense of direction.)
After turning a few corners, the two of them had completely lost track of where they were.
"Mashiro-kun, wait a second. I can't tell which way we came from anymore."
Akane stopped and looked around.
"It's fine. If we go back the way we came, we'll get out."
"Yeah... you're right. Sorry, I'm hopeless with directions."
Akane smiled, embarrassed.
That was when it happened.
Mashiro suddenly felt something off.
(Is someone... watching us?)
A prickling, itching sensation at the back of his neck. He could feel eyes on him. But when he turned around, there was only the dark alley stretching on.
"...Akane-san."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Lately, I keep feeling like someone's watching me."
The moment Mashiro said it, Akane's hand stopped.
Her smile stiffened for just an instant.
"...Watching you?"
Akane's voice was trembling slightly.
"Yeah. Like after a stream, or on my way home. It might be my imagination, though."
Mashiro pretended not to notice the change in her.
"It's your imagination, I'm sure. When you chase urban legends, you start getting feelings like that, right?"
Akane answered with a made-up smile. But that smile was different from the bright one she'd worn until now.
(It's not his imagination. It's because I'm with him...)
Akane bit her lip in her heart.
The organization's pursuers were watching Mashiro. Akane knew it. She also knew that her own approach to him had made the organization start targeting him again.
"...Yeah. You're right. It's my imagination."
Mashiro nodded at Akane's words.
But even Mashiro could tell that Akane's reaction wasn't normal.
(What is Akane-san hiding?)
The question remained, small, deep in his chest.
"Mashiro-kun, let's try over there. Past this alley there should be a slightly more open spot."
Akane spoke in a bright voice, as if switching gears.
"Yeah."
The two of them started walking again.
The alley grew even narrower. The walls closed in, until the sky was only a thin line.
(I wonder where this alley actually leads.)
Mashiro was thinking that as he kept the camera rolling.
Then.
Akane suddenly grabbed Mashiro's hand.
"Huh?"
"Run!"
Akane gripped his hand tight and broke into a run.
"W-wait, Akane-san!?"
Mashiro ran, letting himself be pulled. Akane's palm was damp with sweat—and yet it was terribly warm.
(Why all of a sudden...)
Before he could ask, Akane turned right without hesitation, cut left, and dashed through a narrow gap.
Then Mashiro's ears caught it—multiple footsteps behind them.
The sound of leather shoes. Several pairs. In a hurry.
(Are we being chased?)
Mashiro glanced back.
Beyond the dark alley, he could see the silhouettes of men in suits. Two—no, three. All of them expressionless, looking straight at him.
"Akane-san, those guys—"
"Don't look back! Just run!"
Akane's voice was desperate.
Still pulling Mashiro by the hand, she ran deeper and deeper into the alley. She ducked under a shutter, leapt over a pile of garbage bags, and raced up a rusted fire escape.
(That movement...)
Mashiro caught his breath at how deft Akane was.
No hesitation. Not a moment's pause. She knew exactly which alley connected to which. As if she'd run through this city's back streets countless times before.
"From here, we cut behind that building over there!"
Akane slipped her body into a narrow gap between abandoned buildings. Mashiro followed.
His back scraped the wall, dust clinging to his clothes. But he had no time to care about that.
"Hah... hah..."
He was out of breath. He never ran this much. His heart pounded violently in his chest.
But more than that—
(Akane-san's hand... it's warm.)
Mashiro felt his chest tighten at the sensation of her hand gripping his.
A somehow nostalgic feeling. Something he shouldn't know—and yet he knew it.
(This warmth, somewhere...)
Deep in his memory, something flickered. But when he tried to grasp it, it vanished like mist.
"...It's okay now. They're not following."
Akane came to a stop.
The two of them had reached a corner of a dim back alley. Around them were cracked concrete walls and stacked old wooden crates. The light of a streetlamp barely reached them.
Akane let go of Mashiro's hand.
"Sorry. I pulled you along all of a sudden."
Akane said it apologetically, catching her breath.
"No... you saved me. Thanks."
Mashiro braced a hand against the wall and steadied his breathing.
"...But why do you know this area's streets so well, Akane-san?"
Mashiro looked straight at her face and asked.
Akane's eyes wavered for an instant.
"Huh? Oh—well, I like urban legends, so... I used to take walks around these alleys in the daytime. That's why I mostly remember the streets."
Akane explained it rapid-fire.
But her eyes we
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