The old woman looked at my suitcase and sniffed. “That’s all you packed?”
I shrugged. “Just the essentials. Figured I’d have my family ship me the rest of my stuff once I’m sure of where I’m staying.”
She nodded. “Well, if you decide to stay here, just remember to pay your rent. You’ve only paid me for this month.”
Here, it happens, was a one-room apartment in a dingy complex on 131st street, a dark and dirty street in one of the cheapest areas of the city. I didn’t really expect to be staying here for long. Still, the rent was almost comically cheap, and it had a bed and running water. That would have to suffice until I found somewhere better.
“First time in the city?” The old woman asked after showing me how to work the archaic lock on my door. I nodded. “Well, it’s not much different from any other city. But every city has its own little quirks you need to get used to.”
I nodded again, pretending I was interested.
“This city, for example, has a wide variety of weather. There’s rain, drizzling rain, pouring rain, rain and fog, and when we’re really lucky, hail.” She gestured at some dents in the roof as she mentioned the hail. “But there are a few quirks you should know about.” She continued. “Common sense stuff, but you country folk seem to have a different kind of common sense. I’ll write you a list, so you don’t go getting yourself into trouble.” With that, she left.
Once I’d unpacked my clothes and laptop and checked that the bed was reasonably clean, I decided to take a nap. The walls seemed thin, but I couldn’t hear anything from the apartments next to or below me, for which I was grateful.
I was awoken about twenty minutes later by a knock at the door, followed by a shuffling sound as the old woman pushed a slip of paper under the door. I heard her footsteps heading back down the hall as I picked it up and skimmed through the list.
Rule One: This isn’t an election year. If you see someone asking you to vote, ignore them. Okay, that was a little weird. Maybe it was some sort of scam.
Rule Two: If someone approaches you while it’s foggy and offers you a wish, politely decline and leave. Do not give them anything, and do not say anything that could be interpreted as a wish. If they follow you, keep walking and ignore them.
That was weirder.
Rule Three: If you are out at night and hear the sound of a frog behind you, run. Get home as fast as you can, and do not look behind you until you are in bed.
Now I was just creeped out. I debated running outside and demanding the old woman explain herself, but I figured I should read the rest first.
Rule Four: Don’t piss off anyone from the Nōne crime syndicate.
Okay, that one made perfect sense. Maybe the weird ones were just to make sure I was paying attention.
Rule Five: Don’t look into any storm drains, no matter what you hear.
Or not.
I shoved the list into my pocket. Not something I want to deal with right now.
Once I was settled, I stepped outside and went in search of food. As soon as I exited the apartment, the scale of my new home struck me once again – the towering black skyscrapers that seemed to loom over the entire city, the dark roads that seemed just a little too narrow, the thick black clouds covering the sky and unleashing an endless drizzle of chilling rain. The streets were lined with endless buildings, even the smallest of which must have been at least four or five stories. Narrow alleys ran between them, seemingly too small for anyone to walk down, and yet I knew from the graffiti that people must walk there constantly. Everything in the city had a looming presence, a sort of twisted grandeur. I had the sudden realization that there were probably people in this city who had never actually seen a field, nothing but the endless stifling presence of countless black buildings. I wondered about the people who lived in these other buildings – the run-down tenements, the luxurious skyscrapers.
My phone struggled to find a signal – apparently, my normal cell carrier didn’t service the city – but I was able to get the maps app to open. The area I was in was largely old warehouses and equally old apartments, with few shops around, but the map pointed out a small café not too many blocks from me. It seemed like a good enough option.
The café was located on the bottom floor of a ten-story building, but judging by the lack of lighting anywhere else in the building, the café was the only part still in use. A sign above the door read, “Anne’s Café: Try Our Red Velvet Cupcakes!” A smaller sign taped to the door read, “Endorsed by Aki Nōne.” That gave me pause.
I didn’t move into the city blind. Financial circumstances may not have given me a choice about the move, but I still did my research, and I’d read about Nōne before. The idea of entering a café seemingly favored by someone who would call themselves the “Crime Princess” worried me, no matter how cheery and welcoming the café seemed.
Still, I was hungry. And in a way, maybe a building openly endorsed by a mob boss would be safer, in its own way. Who would dare to commit a crime against a place like that? With those thoughts in mind, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
I felt a little foolish about my nerves once I really looked around. It was a simple mom-and-pop place – well-lit, wooden tables and chairs, nice tablecloths that looked hand-sewn. Upbeat music played quietly from a radio behind the counter, and the smell of freshly-baked cupcakes filled the air.
“Are you alright?”
I jumped and looked around. The voice came from the sole other customer, a young man wearing a black suit with an emblem of a black bird emblazoned above his heart. A mug of coffee and a collection of mini cupcakes sat on the table before him. He had messy black hair and deep blue eyes, eyes which were currently looking at me with mild concern. “You look worried.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s nothing much. I just moved here, so I’m feeling a little out of place.”
“Let me guess,” he said with a laugh. “The sign about Nōne endorsing this place made you think you were walking into a syndicate front operation?”
I felt my face redden, and he laughed again.
“Don’t worry, the endorsement is literal. Her Highness adores red velvet cupcakes, and this place makes the best in the city.”
I relaxed a bit and went up to the counter to place my order. The woman running the café was quiet and seemed tired, but I got a friendly vibe from her.
Once I’d gotten my sandwich and smoothie, I turned to find a table, but the young man waved me to his table. Feeling awkward about accepting but feeling more awkward about refusing, I sat across from him. He introduced himself as Zach and said he worked nearby.
“You just moved here?” He asked, opening a packet of salt and pouring it into his coffee.
“Yeah, from the country, so it’s…quite an adjustment.”
He laughed. “I can imagine. I’m from out-of-town too, but I grew up in a city, so it wasn’t quite as big of an adjustment. This city is…certainly unique, though. Don’t worry; you’ll get used to the city’s eccentricities.”
I sighed, remembering my landlady. “Eccentricities, huh…”
“What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. The landlady of my apartment just gave me this weird list of ‘city rules’ when I moved in.”
“Really?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
I pulled the list from my pocket and handed it to him.
“Huh.” He muttered, skimming through it. “‘Vote For G’…Wishgranter…The Kirigari Man…Cutter Clinic…” He sipped his coffee. “Seems like your landlady’s been around the block quite a few times.”
“You know what those rules mean?” I felt a vague prickle of fear on my back, but I wasn’t sure why.
“Sure.” He answered. “The city’s major urban legends. She missed a few – personally, I’d have swapped the Kirigari Man for the Raven; more people have seen that one, but she got the major ones. And the obvious one of not annoying Princess Nōne.” He slid the note back to me and popped one of the mini cupcakes into his mouth.
“So they’re just urban legends, then.” I felt relieved at that, knowing they weren’t anything to actually worry about. I also felt a little annoyed at my landlady for wasting my time with them.
“That doesn’t mean they’re not true.” He said pointedly, adding more salt to his coffee. “But not something you’ll need to worry about, I imagine. You don’t seem like the sort to get caught up in stuff like that. It’s still good of your landlady to warn you, though.”
I shrugged. I would have preferred that she not give me pointless things to worry about.
“Mind if I ask where you’re staying?” he asked. “This café isn’t really a tourist spot, so I’m assuming you live nearby.” He leaned back and sipped his coffee.
“Yeah, a few blocks off,” I answered. “I rented an apartment on 131st.”
With a choking gasp, Zach spat out his coffee, barely missing me.
“Are you okay?!” I asked as Zach struggled for breath.
“Ye-yeah.” He shook his head. “Where did you say you live?”
“An apartment on 131st?”
His eyes narrowed now, and he stood. “You’ll probably find this very weird, and you’re free to say no, but would you allow me to walk you back there?”
“Why?
His eyes darted evasively. “Well, it’s late at night, and that’s a bad part of town. Safety in numbers and all that.”
It was odd. I could tell that wasn’t the reason, and beyond that, I knew nothing about him, yet something inside me was screaming at me to accept his offer. It was the same strange feeling I’d had since I arrived in the city, that something was wrong, something was missing. This strange feeling now told me to listen to him if I wanted to fix that.
“Sure.”
Zach was quiet for most of the walk back, not speaking until we stood before the door to the apartment complex. “You’ve been humoring me quite a bit already,” he said, “but I’d like to ask you to humor me for one more thing.”
“What?”
“I’d like to go in ahead of you. Just for a few minutes.”
Once again, I had a strange feeling that I should accept. I did, and Zach disappeared inside, telling me to please wait for the next six minutes.
I felt the world close around me as he vanished into the darkness, as though swallowed up by a gaping maw. In my mind, slight shadows down the alleyways turned into lurking figures waiting for me to drop my guard. My eyes darted to the nearby storm drain, my ears scanning for any vague noise, half-convinced that I was about to hear the croaking of a frog behind me. With no rational cause, my heart started pounding, and a cold bead of sweat traced its way down my spine.
Despite my fears that I had been abandoned, almost exactly six minutes later, Zach exited. Carrying my luggage.
“Wh-”
Zach cut me off. “I’ll explain in a minute. Just follow me, and don’t look back until we’re across the street.” There was an intensity to his voice that made it impossible to refuse. Zach walked across the street, not hurrying, but with nervous energy to his step. I followed behind, feeling the urge to look behind me but worried I’d lose sight of him if I did.
The trip across the street felt far longer than the twenty seconds it probably took, but we reached the other side. Zach set down my luggage and gestured for me to look back at my apartment.
I did.
All I could do was stare in horror at what I had thought was my apartment building.
“One more rule for that little list,” Zach said. A wry smile crossed his lips. “There has never been an apartment on 131st street.”