Tokyo's night seems particularly chaotic tonight.
Order was disrupted and overturned; the dazzling neon lights lost their former brilliance and listlessly crackled in the dim darkness, while an atmosphere of anxiety permeated the air.
Some well-informed people locked themselves in their rooms early on, keeping the doors and windows tightly shut, and even drawing the curtains tightly to prevent any leaks.
Those who were unaware of the situation, relying on their instincts, also left work early and went home, giving up the time spent idly wandering the streets.
In an instant, the vast city lost its former prosperity and hustle and bustle, and fell into a deathly silence.
At this moment, someone actually walked out of the hotel and walked alone on the sidewalk, the sound of their footsteps echoing.
This person had a head of incredibly colorful hair, cut in a messy, uneven style, covering half of their face and obscuring their features.
He was wearing a studded short vest, with a T-shirt underneath that was too short, revealing his studded belly button. The front of the shirt was also printed with cursive English words that looked like profanities. He paired it with blue ripped skinny jeans and Doc Martens boots, making him look like a pachinko addict.
He seemed to sense the unusual atmosphere as well, constantly looking left and right, but never retreating a single step, walking forward steadily.
Suddenly, a thick fog rose up, obscuring the already dim moonlight.
He stood still, the surroundings so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat. Then, a long, drawn-out shout rang out, like a conversation with the mysterious, an unknown language lingering in his ears.
Accompanying this "song" were various musical instruments being played in a chaotic yet strange rhythm, as if they were being played directly inside a person's head.
The thug stood there, his legs weak, but he forced himself to walk to the side of the street and then craned his neck to look into the thick fog.
Gradually, black shadows appeared in the fog, but upon closer inspection, they did not resemble human figures, but rather the twisted and deformed bodies of monsters.
Closer and closer.
The thug couldn't help but hide behind a trash can on the street, carefully watching the objects gradually become clearer, trying to etch their faces into his mind.
There are alluring beauties, their movements graceful and swaying, yet they inadvertently reveal animalistic features. There are also dwarf-like imps, their faces drooping in layers, aged and frail, with green skin. And then there are floating ghost heads, cat demons with multiple tails, and fleeting, rifting shadows…
What a bizarre and grotesque scene.
Among them, the thug even saw a Shiba Inu with a transparent body, its mouth wide open as if it were smiling, but when he rubbed his eyes and looked again, it had disappeared.
These ghosts made laughter, interspersed with roars and low moans, and even faint cries.
He remained motionless, his body stiff, afraid of attracting their attention. But when the massive procession had moved halfway through, he suddenly seemed to see something, and became excited, standing on tiptoe and waving his hands frantically in the direction it was pointing.
Following the direction he was looking, there was a person being held atop a magnificent chair by the ghosts, worshipped as if by a deity.
Even compared to the most beautiful demon among all the demons, he was in no way inferior, and even had a more captivating face. Under the moonlight, he seemed to be draped in a silver veil, and a casual glance from him would make one's breath catch in their throat.
After making eye contact with the thug, he raised an eyebrow slightly, a glint of brilliance in his eyes.
—Haruki Asami
Unexpectedly, he had also heard about the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons and came to watch it.
Vili sat on his high throne, looking down at the deserted street scene that was bustling with activity because of the hundred ghosts, and smiled slightly.
Seeing that Asami did not respond to him, Asami Haruki lowered his hand somewhat disappointedly, still gazing longingly at the end of the line until those shadows disappeared into the thick fog, before finally moving his numb body.
But when he turned around, his heart stopped, he gasped for breath, clutched his chest, and almost fainted from lack of oxygen.
"What's wrong? Weren't you just greeting me?"
Willie withdrew his hand from the shoulder and asked with a light laugh.
"I..." Haruki Asami took several deep breaths, "I thought I'd seen a ghost!"
"You really did see a ghost just now."
After telling a lame joke, Willy crossed his arms and looked at the new look of the person in front of him.
Why are you dressed like this again?
"How handsome he looks!"
When this was mentioned, Haruki Asami's tone became smug.
"It's a pity I can only wear a wig now, I can't go back to my original hairstyle, that was when I looked my best." He clicked his tongue and said regretfully, "It's all that thief's fault, he made me bald!"
"I didn't have much hair to begin with..."
He touched the rough wig with a pained expression.
"..."
Vili declined to comment on his aesthetic sense.
"Oh, right, I haven't told you yet. After moving, I stopped being in a band and went to school to study hairdressing!"
"Dad went to work on a construction site carrying bricks, and Mom sold all her luxury goods. She's been thinking about taking odd jobs lately... Our family's debt is decreasing every day..."
His eyes were completely different from those on the rooftop that day; they were full of vitality and hope for the future.
"I think things will only get better from now on, right?"
Willie didn't answer him. He scratched the back of his head in a flustered manner: "Oh dear, I've been talking about my own things... How are you doing?"
Before Kevilli could speak, he hurriedly spoke again.
"I think someone as skilled as you, Yumi-shi, will definitely have a good life!"
"Um... I've already told Mom and Dad not to bother you anymore, and they haven't mentioned you since. But they seem to think I'm jealous of you, haha..."
His laughter grew fainter and fainter under Willy's gaze, finally stopping awkwardly.
Finally, he looked intently into the eyes of the boy before him.
"Thank you for helping me before."
"Consider it my overestimation of my abilities, but if one day in the future you need my help, please don't hesitate to come to me!"
Vili finally found an opportunity to reply, and nodded slightly.
Although that day will never come, but...
"Um."
Asami Haruki remained where he was, watching the boy's figure gradually disappear into the mist, and couldn't help but wave his hand again, shouting repeatedly:
"goodbye!"
"goodbye--"
Finally, only after the person had completely disappeared did he muster the courage to whisper the name he had called out countless times in his heart.
"--elder brother."
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