The march down the street was hasty. The signs of owners and shopkeeps wave the students by. They have no idea what their dire situation is. The owner of a local emporium has their TV set up to full volume, the news picking up the disappearance of over thirty-six students at the local school. One was offering the passing students apples, oranges, the occasional plum, and trinkets.


    On a normal day, the group would stop by the local bakery. It was a tradition for one of them to buy everyone a dessert for the day. Matcha cookies or cheesecake, Purin, ice cream, and dango. They brought all the flavors from Japan to give the students a chance to try it all, a cultural bargain for the students'' income. It had been Shojo’s turn to pick. He even told Takei he was going to choose her favorite for her upcoming birthday. Kushi dango. The way it tasted was her own personal sympathy and a memory of her and her mother.


    They arrive at his house, and everything seems in place, no broken windows or signs of anything amiss.


    “Everything seems normal on the outside… It wouldn’t make sense. He was out sick, not with any other student. Maybe one of the teachers miscounted?” Takei chimes in.


    “Maybe, maybe, let’s hope you’re right. I don’t want one of our friends to be a goner. It just won’t ever be the same without him.” Keiko voices everyone’s concern. In this day and age, it isn’t rare for a student to find themselves in a grave.


    “Well, let’s stop having our fingers up our rear ends and get in there!” Ozaki ruffles his jacket up and knocks on the door.


    “Hey! Shoji! It’s us open up!” he yells.


    “If I recall, his parents aren’t home yet. So if he’s not here, there’s going to be no answer.” Ishimoto reminds him.


    Okazaki twists the knob. The door is unlocked, and it swings open.


    “The hell? Shoji?” No answer. The first to step in is Keiko. Nothing but an island of nothingness. There is no sign of life; nobody is on the couch, kitchen, bathroom, or staircase. There is nothing out of place either, signs of a struggle or bad happening. Everything is untouched and the same as any other day.


    “You’d think if something bad happened, something would be out of place, yes or no?” Keiko reasons.


    “I agree. And Shoji isn’t the type to sneak out either, especially if he’s feeling ill, so that’s a low possibility,” Ishimoto adds.


    “The only thing is his room now, right? Let’s go up.” Takei peers at the fireplace. There is ash and debris from a recently lit fire.


    “It looks like someone lit a fire,” she says.


    Okazaki bends down and investigates it.


    “Yeah, this doesn’t look like it happened any more than eight or ten hours ago.”


    “So precise in that calculation, Okazaki.”


    “Yeah, I know, egghead, I have my ways of knowing.”


    “Arsonist tendencies, I assume?”


    “Hey, shut up! I ain’t ever burn anyone’s property down!” Okazaki shoots up and stares down at him, a fury building on his face.


    “Hey, hey boys, stop it this instant. We have more important things to worry about right now, and that’s saying a whole lot coming from me.” Keiko steps between them, placing her hands on their chests to prevent a fight. It isn’t out of the ordinary for these two longtime friends to fight.


    “He needs to learn to shut his damn mouth! That’s why his stomach lives in a damn circus tent!” he says bitterly.


    Stolen story; please report.


    “Hush up, Okazaki. It was merely a statement by the ridiculousness of what you said.”


    “I ain’t hurt anyone whatsoever, so don’t even assume!”


    Keiko has never been good at the serious diplomatic thing. Hardly anyone has ever taken her seriously since they were all little.


    “Okazaki, Ishimoto,” Takei says in a calm, soothing voice.


    “Our friend Shoji is missing. Let’s not linger on something that tears us apart when we need to be together for him,” she says. Her words have a way of smoothing the most chaotic of ridges.


    “I… fine, you’re right.” Okazaki simmers down.


    “Yes, she is. We need to find him at all costs. I apologize,” Ishimoto says.


    The two set aside their differences, and the tension in the room evaporates. Ishimoto checks the fireplace now, and he notices a charcoaled piece of paper.


    “What’s this?”


    The tattered paper is unreadable. It’s clear there was writing, but it has been burned off by the fire. The only letters seen are in English, making it even harder for them to read.


    “I understand some of this, but most of it is too burned to decipher. However, this is not Shoji’s handwriting.”


    “What, what? What do you mean it’s not his handwriting?” Keiko questions.


    “It’s... Usagi.” The way she wrote and her ability to speak English lined up.


    “I’m so sorry, guys…” The confident voice shook behind them. They all turn to see the face of a girl filled with regret. Usagi plants her face in her hands and falls to the ground.


    “It was never meant to be this way. He lied to me.” She said.


    “Save him? What you talking about, Usagi?” Okazaki goes to her side, trying to seek answers.


    “Tell us, Usagi, where is he?”


    “They took him, along with the other students. They’re hostages in their game.”


    “They? Who the hell are they? What the hell did you get yourself into, Usagi!?”


    “I didn’t have a choice! The Remnants, they took him and the other students.”


    “How do you know all this Usagi?” Takei softly rubbed her back.


    “I’ve been speaking to them.”


    “Usagi!? What do you mean by speaking to them? Those are dangerous, bad people!? You could get hurt!” Keiko shudders.


    “I know! I just had no choice! I told you that, don’t you understand!?” she says rapidly. She knows what she did was bad. She knows she doesn’t have a choice. It was the only way to ensure his safety and that of others.


    “Usagi. Let’s not get emotional. We need to find Shoji. If he’s still alive, we need to save him.” Ishimoto chimes in.


    “What are you suggesting, egghead? We walk right in there and get decimated? Have you seen what they’re capable of on those old newsreels?”


    “It’s not directly them. It’s the cult that follows them. A Remnant doesn’t have time for trivial things like that. They have other matters to handle.”


    “There is an off chance it’ll be one. I do recall reading online that sometimes they collect taxes for them, a sort of piety.”


    “That is true,” she responds. She has seen it firsthand but doesn’t say anything.


    “Guys, do you hear yourselves at all, huh? We’re just students, and those guys could be armed to the teeth for all we know?” Keiko says.


    “Don’t matter. We need to save him.” Okazaki is firm in his resolve.


    “No, no! We need to call the police to handle this or something!” she argues.


    “What you think they gonna do the moment they see ‘em coming!? Bet those guys have people in the police department themselves and will be tipped off!”


    “Okazaki is making some sense, Keiko. It’s likely people with that much power have eyes and ears everywhere.” None of them are certain. They judged this on movies more than anything.


    “Right, so we’re going to do it ourselves, I ain’t letting our friend get hurt or worse! Ishimoto, you and me, we need to make a plan.” Okazaki fires himself up.


    “Now hold on. We don’t even know where they’re at. How are we supposed to do anything without that knowledge?” He makes his point.


    “I know,” Usagi interjects.


    “You do?” Takei asks, confused.


    “Yes. City hall tonight at twelve. They’re holding them there for a sacrifice.” She stands up; her knowledge of the cult isn’t vast, but she overheard this. She always had a knack for hearing better than most.


    “How do you know all this!? How can you not tell us this? You were going to let Shoji die, you—you!”


    “Calm, Okazaki. There’s clearly something we don’t understand, but we don’t have time to worry. We need to hurry. Let’s get to work. Takei, Keiko, Usagi. Be prepared for the call. Okazaki and I are going to get everything set. In the meantime, any and all information you can get will be helpful.”


    “No… I will help you two,” she says.


    “Understood. We three will get everything set; you two, keep aware. What we’re going to do will either be incredibly stupid or the end of our lives, so let’s keep that from happening, okay?”


    Fear resides in everyone. Usagi doesn’t show it; Okazaki shows his ferocity; Ishimoto has his deadpan face; Takei has her hooded eyes; and Keiko has her soft and eradicate breathing.


    “Let’s get going.”


    Everyone heads to their assigned places. Ishimoto and Okazaki walk to Ishimoto’s together, and Keiko and Takei walk to Takei’s home. Usagi remains in her spot. The world is dimmer and more gray. She takes her time looking up from the ground and following behind Ishimoto and Okazaki.