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 - A burning house and you, gone—the night everything was lost
The silence of the dead of night felt like sinking to the bottom of deep water.
Mashiro Meme stood in the kitchen of an old house. His short black hair floated faintly under the dim fluorescent light. His yellow eyes were fixed on the bag of cat food in his hands. The safety-pin hair ornament caught a faint glint of light.
(I can't sleep again.)
Mashiro muttered it inside his head.
He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in days. When he closed his eyes, that night rose up behind his lids. The sound of rain. A trembling voice. And the cold words he himself had spoken.
"...Get out."
That was three days ago.
Naraka, a former colleague from his old job, had come to visit and warned him about strange noise and shadows creeping into his streams. And right after that, Akane Akari—soaked to the bone—had come running into his house.
Akane confessed everything.
That she had once been a memory keeper for the Chronos Agency—a secret organization that researched the extraction, alteration, and transplantation of memories. That Mashiro's memories had been erased by the organization's experiments. And that the accomplice who had helped him escape was Akane herself.
Mashiro couldn't believe it.
No—he didn't want to believe it.
The cheerful kouhai who'd pretended to bump into him at the library. The smile she'd worn as they hit it off talking about streaming and walked the night streets together. Had all of it been an act?
Anger and confusion made Mashiro push her away.
Akane apologized through her tears. But Mashiro wouldn't listen.
"Get out."
He couldn't forget her face in that moment.
Her big amber eyes, wide open. Then, slowly, dropping. A small voice—sorry.
Akane's back, walking away into the rain.
(Was that really the right thing to do?)
Mashiro asked himself, over and over.
No answer came.
"Mew."
A small voice came from by his feet.
He looked down. The calico cat, Pawoko, was rubbing her head against his leg. Her fluffy fur brushed his bare feet. The black cat, Nia, watched Mashiro from a little distance, still as stone.
"...Sorry, Pawoko. I'll feed you now."
Mashiro poured the cat food into their bowls. Pawoko started eating right away. Nia crept closer slowly and lined up beside her.
He watched the two of them crunch away, his mind drifting.
(Was what Naraka said actually true?)
Naraka had been investigating the noise and shadows that crept into Mashiro's streams on her own. And she'd warned him that she sensed the organization behind it all.
Mashiro had been half in doubt.
But Akane's confession connected everything.
The noise. The shadows. That feeling of being hunted. All of it had been the organization's doing.
(What's Akane doing right now...)
He caught himself and shook his head.
(Stop it.)
There was no point in thinking about it.
Mashiro went back to the living room and sat down on the floor.
The old wooden house creaked from every corner at night. Stains on the walls. Peeling wallpaper. Stacked cardboard boxes. It was no wonder people mistook it for a ruin.
But to Mashiro, this was the only place he belonged.
Pawoko and Nia finished eating and climbed onto his lap.
Their warmth seeped gently into him.
"...You're warm."
Mashiro stroked their backs, one and then the other.
Pawoko purred, a rumble in her throat. Nia narrowed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his hand.
(I'm glad I have these two.)
He meant it from the bottom of his heart.
That was when it happened.
—Rustle.
A faint sound came from outside.
Mashiro's hand stopped.
(That sound just now...)
He strained his ears.
—Rustle. Rustle.
This time it was clear.
Multiple footsteps. Moving around the house, as if encircling it.
Something deep in Mashiro's chest turned cold.
(No way.)
Mashiro scooped up Pawoko and Nia and rose slowly to his feet.
He approached the window.
Peered outside through a gap in the curtains.
—Figures.
Three men in black suits stood in front of the house.
One held something like a radio to his mouth.
Another had something in his hand.
A long, thin cylinder.
(Is that... a flare?)
The worst possibility surfaced in Mashiro's mind.
The next instant—
Crash!
The window shattered.
At the same moment, a loud clatter came from the direction of the front door.
"What the—!"
Mashiro leaped back on instinct.
The flare that had been thrown in was spraying sparks wildly across the floor.
Red light. White smoke. And then—
Whoosh.
The old tatami mats caught fire.
The flames spread in an instant.
"Mraaow!"
"Fssshaa!"
The cats thrashed in terror.
"It's okay, it's okay! Calm down!"
Mashiro held the two frantic cats with all his strength.
Smoke seared his throat.
It was hot.
The fire was spreading abnormally fast.
(Of course—it's wood.)
Mashiro's house was an old wooden structure. Once it caught, there was no putting it out.
(I have to run.)
Mashiro headed for the back door.
Flames crawled up the walls. The ceiling groaned.
"Damn it...!"
Mashiro kicked the back door open.
Cold night air rushed in.
Clutching both cats, he bolted outside.
—And in that instant.
"Mashiro!"
A voice he knew.
He turned. Akane Akari stood behind the house.
Her bright chestnut semi-long hair swayed red in the firelight. Her big amber eyes were fixed straight on him. She wore a thin cardigan, and on her left wrist was the usual slender wristband.
"Akane... why are you here?"
Mashiro's voice was hoarse from the smoke.
"Sorry—I'll explain later! Right now, we run!"
Akane reached for his hand.
—But.
"Don't move."
A low voice.
Two men in suits emerged from the alley behind the house.
Expressionless. Cold eyes. Each held something like a baton.
The color drained from Akane's face.
"Mashiro, get behind me!"
Akane stepped in front of him to shield him.
Her small frame tried with everything she had to hide him.
"Akane, what are you—"
"Just do it! I'll buy us time. Mashiro, take the cats and go down that alley!"
Akane pointed to a narrow backstreet alley.
"B-but..."
"Hurry!"
Her voice turned sharp for the first time.
Mashiro flinched for an instant.
"Target C, Akane Akari, secured. Target M, Mashiro Meme—pursue."
One of the pursuers gave orders over his radio.
The other closed in on Akane, step by step.
"I won't let you...!"
Akane spread both arms and blocked the pursuer's path.
"Out of the way. I don't have time to deal with you."
Pursuer B raised his baton.
—And then.
Akane ducked, quick as a flash.
Then she kicked an empty can lying at her feet with all her might.
Clang, clang—the can rolled into the pursuer's feet.
"Tch!"
Pursuer B stopped short for a moment.
"Now, Mashiro! Run!"
Akane shoved Mashiro's back with all her strength.
"—!"
Mashiro stumbled, but broke into a run toward the alley.
Clutching Pawoko and Nia to his chest.
"Mew!"
"Myaaah!"
The cats wailed in terror.
"It's okay, it's okay...!"
Mashiro ran desperately, holding them tight.
He reached the mouth of the alley.
—But.
"I've been waiting for you."
Another pursuer appeared from the far end of the alley.
They'd cut him off.
"Damn it...!"
Mashiro stopped dead.
Pursuer C ahead. Pursuers A and B behind.
He was completely boxed in.
"Give it up. If you don't resist, you won't get hurt."
Pursuer C approached slowly.
In Mashiro's arms, Pawoko and Nia were trembling.
(What do I do...)
Mashiro's mind went blank.
—And then.
"Get away from Mashiro!!"
Akane's scream rang out.
He turned. Akane was being forced to the ground by Pursuer A, but she was fighting back with everything she had.
"Let go! Let me go!"
Akane dug her nails into the pursuer's arm.
"Why, you little—!"
Pursuer A twisted her arm roughly.
"Ow...!"
Akane's face contorted in pain.
And still, she kept screaming.
"Mashiro! Run! Please! Take care of the cats, please!"
Mashiro's feet felt glued to the ground.
(I have to run. I have to run, but—)
But leaving Akane behind and running—how could he?
"Don't worry about me! Take the cats and go!!"
Akane's voice cracked.
Then Pursuer B clamped a hand over her mouth from behind.
"Mmph—!"
Akane's voice was smothered into silence.
Pursuer A bound both her arms behind her back.
"Target C secured. To the car."
The pursuers dragged Akane toward a black car parked beyond the alley.
Akane struggled desperately.
But she was no match for the men's strength.
"Akane...!"
Mashiro started to run toward her.
—BOOOOM!!
A roar.
Part of Mashiro's house collapsed, burning as it fell.
Debris and embers rained down on the alley.
"Guh—!"
Mashiro threw himself flat, shielding the cats.
Fallen pillars and rubble completely blocked the path between him and Akane.
"Mraaow!"
"Myaaaaa!"
The cats cried wildly in his arms.
Mashiro lifted his head.
Beyond the flames, he could see Akane being shoved into the car.
Her mouth was still covered.
But her eyes were fixed straight on him.
(Sorry.)
It looked like she was saying it.
"AKANEEE!!"
Mashiro screamed.
It was a voice he'd never made before, one that tore at his throat.
But it was swallowed by the roar of the flames and the sound of his house collapsing.
The black car vanished into the darkness of the night.
"Akane... Akane...!"
Mashiro dropped to his knees on the ground.
Still holding Pawoko and Nia.
It was hot.
The flames scorched his back.
But he couldn't find the strength to stand.
"Damn it... damn it...!"
Mashiro slammed his fist into the ground.
Once, twice, three times.
Blood seeped into the asphalt.
"I couldn't do anything... I couldn't do a thing...!"
It hurt.
The skin on his knuckles was split, bleeding.
But deeper than that pain, something inside his chest hurt far worse.
Akane had been taken.
Right in front of him.
Because she shielded him.
(If only I hadn't pushed her away then.)
(If only I'd apologized then.)
(If only I'd listened to her properly then.)
Regret crashed over him like a tsunami.
"AAAAAAH!!"
Mashiro kept pounding the ground with his bloodied fists.
The tears wouldn't stop.
They ran down his cheeks and fell to the ground.
Pawoko and Nia cried and clung to his body.
"Mew... mew..."
"Myaa..."
The cats' voices were trembling.
(They're scared too.)
Mashiro held them tight once more.
"...I'm sorry. I'm sorry, both of you."
His voice was a mess of tears.
How long had he stayed like that?
The flames were still burning his house.
The old wooden structure was already little more than a skeleton.
Crack, crack—the wood popped and burst.
In the distance, the siren of a fire engine grew closer.
—Buzz, buzz.
Suddenly, the smartphone in his pocket vibrated.
Mashiro pulled it out with tear-soaked hands.
A message notification on the screen.
The sender—Naraka.
"Akane's been taken to the Chronos Agency's Seventh Research Lab in Ash Lane. I'm tracking the organization's data. Where are you right now?"
Mashiro typed a reply with trembling fingers.
"My house burned down. Akane was taken."
The read receipt appeared at once.
Then Naraka's reply.
"I'm coming to you now. Don't move."
Mashiro clutched the phone and looked up at the sky.
The night sky was stained an eerie orange by the flames.
"...Let's go."
Mashiro spoke to Pawoko and Nia.
The two looked up at his face and gave small cries.
"I'm getting Akane back."
His voice was hoarse.
But it was filled with unmistakable resolve.
Mashiro stood, not bothering to wipe his tears.
Blood dripped from his fist.
But he didn't feel the pain anymore.
—How much time had passed after that?
"Mashiro!"
A familiar, calm, low voice.
He turned. Naraka came running from the far end of the alley.
Her long black hair was braided as always. Her purple-tinged black eyes were wide open. In her hand was the usual small notebook.
"Wh-what is this..."
Naraka gasped at the burned-out house.
"...They got me. Completely."
Mashiro gave a hollow laugh.
"Your hand—!"
Naraka's face twisted at the sight of his blood-soaked fist.
"It's fine. It's nothing."
"It's not nothing! Let m
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