The Old Town was the most occupied section of the city. The derelict was still upright enough to offer shelter, support in terms of concrete roofs and old, wooden doors with ancient hinges. Those who called Old Town home had staked each individual claim on the various subsections of the place, different families and bonded groups nesting in their own corners of the new kind of suburbia. Humanity surviving was like ball bearings cast down a craggy slope, everybody tumbled, fell into their places, into stuck little holes where they could continue to live.

At the limits, just a mile or so from where the road forgot the city and favored woodland, was the shell of a gas station. The once-glass frontage was now hard-nailed plyboard supported by thick lengths of lumbers, both inside and out. The front doors were the only thing still letting in light, the only surviving glass. The pumps were empty, standing statuary, surrounded by the broken rubble remains of their concrete awning. Written in charcoal, small letters near the door were two characters: Fujimoto.

The inside had been gutted, then rebuilt. The shelving all repurposed with flats boards into makeshift walls, divvying up the large room into three quadrants. The back two were bedrooms, the front a rectangular living space. The office in the back was storage, a pantry for dry goods and valuables used in trading. It also had a service ladder that went into the ceiling's crawlspace and from there, to the roof. This was the second place Hana checked when looking for her brother. She stood at the bottom, yelled up twice. She listened as her voice echoed through the place, vanished. It built frustration that flowered into anger and fueled her grumbling as she took the ladder up and wormed her way to the roof.

He was there, as usual. A slim boy, dark hair, a fair complexion. He sat on the top of an air conditioning unit, crossed arms and legs, watching the mid-morning sky. He was dressed in casual slacks, a kimono shirt that was open at the front. He had no shoes on. Hana stomped to him, making as much noise as she could to express both her presence and her anger.

"Reizo." She said, slipping his name sharply between his ribs, "Why don't you ever answer me?"

"I don't ever hear you."

"You lie." Hana said.

"Somebody's there." Reizo said. Hana had her lips pursed, hands on her hips. She was ready to continue the debate, but cut short. She turned to look towards the city. The surviving buildings stood proudly amongst the rubble, corpses of a thousand elderly constructs. It bled out, carpeted the sides of the spider-webbed roads between their gas station and the city proper. What was left were the biggest buildings, an old department store, apartments, offices and a civic center. A radio tower was at the center, old, orange metal still standing, despite time chewing fangs against the foundation.

"Right there." Reizo pointed, "Right on top of the big building, to the left of the tower."

Hana shaded her eyes with her hand, squinted down in the direction he was pointing. Aside from the landscape, there was nothing to see. She shook her head.

"I don't see it, Rei." She said.

"He's in a black kimono." Reizo described. Hana nodded, eyes closed, "He's standing, looking over the city, like a crow or something. I should go there, talk to him."

Hana worried her brow. She counted buildings, made a quick map in her head.

"That's the Kawaja House." She said, "My friend Aki lives there. She could probably get you to the roof…but later. Now, we're eating breakfast. We'd like you to join us."

"What is it?" Reizo asked.

"Leek soup. Fresh, too, mom picked them just today."

"Hmm, leeks." Reizo mused, "Maybe I'll just hang out up here."

"Maybe you won't." Hana took hold of her brother's arm and leaned, using her weight as leverage enough to pull him off his perch. He tumbled with her and despite both of them piling to the ground, Hana kept her stern, matronly demeanor. She wiggled to her knees and broke ice around Reizo with her stare. He lay on his back and turned from the glare as though it were blinding light.

"Fine." He said.

"And you're going to eat at least two leeks."

"One."

"-and a half."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine."

Hana smiled. She clapped her hands together and stood, "Good! See, that worked out nicely. Now, let's go, please."

Reizo followed. They traversed the crawlspace, made their way to the dining table close to the doors. Afternoon light came in, and was supplemented by tall wax candles in the center of the low-set kotatsu. Their father was already seated, reading a paperback by the cast illumination. Short-cut hair, wireframe build-he was Reizo in forty years. He gave his children a pleased look as they sat, then submerged again into his book.

"How could you even see what that man was wearing?" Hana asked, "He was so far away."

"I guessed." Reizo shrugged.

"So maybe you didn't see anybody. Maybe it was just a trick of light. There are a lot of shadows this time of day."

Their father took interest, looked up from his reading, "Who saw what?"

"Rei says he saw a man on Kawaja House."

"I say I did see him. He was in a black kimono!"

"Probably just a shadow." Their father said. He smiled, returned to his book.

"Perhaps it was somebody working on the garden, there." Their mother said, introducing herself to the conversation with a pot laid in the center of the table. Steam escaped from beneath the lid, brought smell to the room. She sat on the last empty side, hands on her knees. Hana leaned forward to serve, careful not to burn herself.

"He was just standing there, though." Reizo said, "They have a garden up there?"

"You've never been?" Their mother asked, "I would have thought, since Aki lived there."

"She's Hana's friend, not mine."

"Rei doesn't have any friends." Hana said. She filled her brother's bowl, two leeks, and laid it before him. He narrowed his eyes at the portion. Hana didn't look his way, but touted a haughty expression as she began to eat.

"I have friends." Reizo said. He clapped his hands together and began to eat, "Daichi and Akihiko."

Hana cleared her throat, made her voice deeper, "I hope that they both get eaten by birds. Hana, why does everybody around here hate me?" She turned to him, "An exact quote."

Reizo scrunched his mouth, turned his spoon around his soup. He took a begrudging leek between his teeth.

"Don't tease." Their mother said, "It's perfectly fine for boys his age to be loners. Your father was a loner when I met him. He said he was 'too cool' for any of the kids around us."

"Now, now." Their father said. He turned a page with his thumb, not once looking from the book, "That was back in Kyoto, there weren't many children at all, nevermind ones our age."

"Yes, so Rei, what's your excuse?"

Reizo clapped his hands again, slapped his utensils onto the table. He stood.

"Thank you for the meal. I'm getting to work."

"Oh!" Their mother also rose, "Actually, do you mind taking some trade to Yukima Row? I was going to go, but if you can, it would be a big help. I have so much to do here, you see and your father is busy in the field today…"

Reizo looked out the front doors, up towards the sky. Some birds flew lazily across the horizon, shady specks in the daylight. A few clouds hung around them, motionless, stuck to the blue. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his kimono shirt, scruffed up his lips.

"I guess so." He said.

"Wonderful." Their mother said, smiling appreciatively.

The parcel was a large, wooden crate packed neatly with leeks, each layer separated by wax paper. Reizo opted to use the only remaining shopping cart with usable wheels, but was turned down by his parents, both citing their own needs for it that day. So he hauled it through main force, keeping it close to his chest as he walked the long road into town. Hana walked next to him, a canvas bag full of seed potatoes swinging casually at her side.

"Seems like it's going to be hot today." She said. She had changed into a peach-colored dress that skirted around her knees. It had wide straps and a sloping U around her neck. Her dark hair hung over her shoulders in twin tails. Heavy work boots adorned her feet, going up to her shins.

"I have friends." Reizo said.

"Still with this?" Hana rolled her eyes, "Look, it's alright. Really. We all go through these phases. I didn't make friends with Aki until last year, remember? Though, I am a few years younger, so maybe you're just a late bloomer? Either way, it's fine. Don't stress about it too much, you'll give yourself an ulcer."

"It's not fine." Reizo said.

They walked in silence for a time. The road from their home to the city was a length of bare, broken asphalt surrounded by the ruination of old civilization. An entire era of industrial buildings lay in broken pieces throughout the now-grassy fields. Pipes of rebar and iron hung around here and there, stuck like trees in the detriment. Occasionally, the sun would catch bits of glass and plate steel, making the fields shimmer for a brief time in the course of the day. Hana looked out across the stretch as she walked, her expression neutral.

"It is fine." She said, after enough time in silence to make the words sound like shouts, "In this world we live in, there aren't many people left. We're lucky to be in a place with so many, to be around a community so willing to help itself. I hear in other prefectures anarchy is the rule, that in places like Hokkaido it's catch-as-catch-can. In places like that, there wouldn't even be any room for carefree friendships-it's all about survival."

"Where'd you hear that? About Hokkaido?"

"Aki told me. Some people came from there a few weeks ago, they moved into Kawaja House. Aki's brother works in the greenhouses with them, heard a lot of stories."

"Second-hand information, then."

"Oh, what? You don't believe it?"

Reizo looked out at his side of the road. He stopped walking, lay down the crate. He stretched his arms over his head, pulled the muscles loose.

"It's easy to believe stuff like that, what with the world we're in." He said, "I just want to believe that maybe it's not as bad as they say."

"It could be worse."

Reizo looked his sister up and down. He smiled, nodded and returned to the haul.

"I'm surprised you made a friend." He said, "Being such a cynic."

"Catch-as-catch-can." Hana sang. They both laughed.

It took a good hour and half to get to the city. Two buildings marked the entrance, both tall high-rise apartments. Their original names now lost to the annals of history, they were known now as Hasigawa and Ino House, respectively. They were residential, but neither was anywhere near full to occupancy. Only a few people were around to even show that they were occupied at all. An elderly woman sat a few dozen feet from Ino House, facing the direction Reizo and Hana were approaching from. She was in a tired-looking lawn chair, reclining with her hands across her stomach, watching a pair of young children toss a ball about some feet from her. She smiled at Reizo and Hana as they passed and both bowed children paid only glances before returning to play.

"Surprised she's still alive." Reizo said. Hana put an elbow sharply into his ribs. He staggered from the blow, wincing off the pain.

Past Hasigawa and Ino was a spread of smaller buildings, once business and tinier apartments. A large portion of the place was without occupants, most choosing to live in the apartment buildings instead. The road split soon after and the siblings took the eastern way, diverging away from the residential area and towards the old industrial park. They passed a playground, a concrete park with flaking rusted equipment. Some children hung around it, favoring the still-smooth slide over anything else.

Yukima Way was a length of city streets that encompassed big factory buildings, most left empty, but the glassy ones repurposed into makeshift greenhouses. Hana counted building numbers, Reizo following her lead as she pointed them towards the correct location. Building number four-six-two, near the middle of the sprawl. It was once an warehouse for automotive parts, or so the near-faded lettering out front would suggest. Big, glass windows made up the upper half of the outside walls, each kept clean enough to mirror the sky and surroundings. The doors were all open, giving view to the many workers inside that busily tended the many, many rows of growth in iron planters.

They stood in the entranceway for a bit, waiting until they were noticed rather than

getting in the way looking for an introduction. Reizo sat his crate on the ground nearby. One of the workers saw to them as he passed by. He was well past middle age, bald and had the weight of many years' work on his shoulders. He smiled at Hana, shaking her hand.

"Mr. Fuda." She said, "We've brought this month's trade." She held up her bag of seed potatoes, "Fresh from our field."

Fuda looked into bag he was handed. He whistled, "You fellas really grow it good out there, huh?"

"We work hard." Reizo said. Fuda turned to him, gave him a quick bit of scrutiny.

"This is Reizo." Hana introduced, stepping between the two, "My brother. I'm sorry you two haven't ever met before."

"I usually deliver to a younger guy." Reizo said.

"My boy." Fuda told him, "Jun. He's mentioned you. Pleasure." Fuda held out a hand, Reizo shook. He thumbed to the crate.

"Leek root." He said.

"Excellent." He smiled wider, "How you and your parents produce such number astounds me."

"We don't eat much." Hana said, "And it's not so much how much we grow, but how much we can keep."

"Sounds like you have it all buttoned up, then."

"We try." Hana smiled.

"Well, we all have to. Anyways, I got our end finishing up. Say you come back in about an hour, we'll have it crated for you."

"Sounds good." Hana said, "We have friends to visit, anyway."

"Good, good." Fuda said, and the three split ways.

"So." Hana said, walking away, "I'm going to see my friend. I dunno what you're up to."

"I'm going to the top of Kawaja House."

Hana passed an expression of confusion, turned it to sly understanding, "Right, right. Your crow-man. Your friend?"

Reizo shrugged, "I know what I saw."

"I still don't get how you made him out in such detail from so far away."

"How many kimonos do you see around here?"

Hana looked her brother up and down. She took a pinch of his sleeve and rubbed it between her fingers. She let it go sharply, rolling her eyes.

"Not like this." Reizo said, snapping his arm away, "I mean like...looser. Like one of those kimonos you see in those old art books mom keeps around."

"I see. Rei, why don't you just come and hang with me and Aki for a while? I'm sure she'd like the extra company. She's an only child, you know."

"Ah, one of the lucky ones." Reizo said, grinning. Hana responded with a sour twist across her expression.

"That was mean." She said. Reizo's grin broke as he saw her face. He shut his eyes.

"Sorry." He said. He pulled her into a sidelong hug, tussling his fingers through her hair.

"Hey, guess what?" Reizo said.

"What?"

"I do have a friend."

Hana smiled, "Yeah, I guess you do."

"Can we be done with that now?" He asked.

"Sure." Hana said. She didn't pull away from the hold.

It took a fair half-hour to get to Kawaja House. The time could have been cut in half, but Hana found herself enjoying the walk and small talk, so she slowed her pace and Reizo matched it. It was early afternoon when they arrived. An elderly couple was sitting on the front steps of the apartment building, the man smoking a long pipe and the woman drinking from a clay mug. They both gave pleasant greetings to Reizo and Hana, both returning the salutations with shallow, though meaningful, bows of the head.

"I can't believe you've never been here." Hana said. They ascended via a stairwell in the lobby. Both left their shoes in the foyer, going the threshold barefoot.

"Never had a reason." Reizo said. He clicked his teeth, held up a finger. Hana laughed and pantomimed zipping her lips shut.

"Plus I always seem to be busy." Reizo continued, "With this or that. A 'day off' like this is pretty rare, wouldn't you say?"

"Hmm, I suppose I would. Certainly wouldn't mind more of them. Aki is working on a knit quilt and I enjoy helping her with it."

"Spending time off doing work, interesting."

"It isn't work if you enjoy it."

Aki's apartment was number four-three and her family's was the next door down. Reizo peered up and down the hall as Hana knocked. Most doors hung open, outside light filling the spaces and spilling into the hall. Motes of dust floated like lazy stars in the light, covered the by the occasional drifting shadow. Indistinct voices made a quiet din and every so often a child or busy-bodied adult would swiftly pass from door to door or cross the way at the end of the hall.

"I guess not a lot of people live here." Reizo whispered. Hana nodded.

"Not a lot of people anywhere, Rei. Did you go somewhere and forget that?"

"Just la-la land."

"A common vacation spot for you."

Reizo smirked. Aki came to the door, a stout girl, genetically waif-like up and down, stringy brown hair, sunken eyes. Her face was still tender with youth, that kind of permanent babyface that persisted even against puberty.

"A~ki!" Hana sang and the two embraced. When she stepped back from it, Hana held a palm up in front of Reizo, "I brought Reizo today."

"Oh, blessed be us." Aki said, "You finally decided to be social?"

Reizo rolled his eyes, opened his mouth and Hana stepped in to prevent his foot from entering it, "We're waiting on a trade." she said, "Got some time off, finally."

"It's good to see you, Hana-fana."

"Hana-fana." Reizo said. Hana drew a length of steel with her stare and put it against her brother's throat. Her smile made the sun shiver with cold. Reizo held up his hands, conceding instant defeat. Hana pressed an index finger under his ribs, threatening pain.

"That's not a name for you." She said.

"Hana gets defensive about these things." Aki said.

"May I go see the roof?" Reizo muttered. Aki tilted her head, then smiled.

"Of course? I think my mother is up there, tending the flowers, so maybe you could help."

"Yes." Hana said. She sheathed her finger and her tone, "I'm sure Ms. Ibara would like that."

Reizo nodded, turned on his heel, "You two have fun with your quilt. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Don't fall off!" Hana said, cheerfully.

Reizo took the stairs up, going slowly to avoid fatigue. It still dogged his heels and snapped tight around his feet as he crested the fifteenth floor. The stairs narrowed, led him to a thick steel door with a brassy push bar, faded lettering announcing roof access. It clicked open easily, shook precariously as it swung out. The wind blew steadily out on the roof, a cleaner, softer gust than that on the ground. Flower petals twirled through the motion, chased by the soft, caressing aroma of wildflowers. Shallow planters made of painted steel were rowed four across, going almost from end to end of the place, each one colored with different blooms of flower. It was an impressive sight and for a moment, just as he stepped out into the sun, the world ceased to be as it was and Reizo was in a sparkling, ethereal orchard. He couldn't help but smile, shut his eyes and drink it in.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" A woman spoke. Reizo opened his eyes, returned to the rooftop. A middle-aged woman, same hair and build as her daughter below, knelt nearby. She had a wooden trowel and was busy transplanting some orange tiger lilies.

"Very much so." Reizo said. His manners turned on and he straightened, bowing.

"Ms. Ibara." He said, "Thank you for letting me see it."

"Oh, come now. It's nothing like that."

Reizo stood, arms still at his side, "It is very pretty."

Ms. Ibara nodded, "My husband always wonders why I don't grow fruit up here. In the summer, he says, we could get strawberries or maybe melons. I like the flowers though and the children do too. Everybody does. You have to have something like this in a world like this, don't you think?"

Reizo nodded. Ms. Ibara smiled broadly, finished her transplant and stuck the trowel into the dirt. She pat her knees, fixed her hair behind her ears.

"It's been a while, Reizo. How have you been?"

"Fine, ma'am." Reizo said, "Busy."

"This time of year, I bet. Are your family's crops doing well?"

"Yes ma'am. We're here to trade today with the greenhouses."

"Fantastic."

"How about you? I see that Aki is doing well."

"She is, she is." Ms. Ibara clapped her knees again, a forgetful kind of motion, "Now where are my manners-would you like a drink?"

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother."

"No bother, really."

"I wouldn't want you to go down all those stairs just for me."

"I have some just one floor down, I always keep some there just so I don't have to always worry about those wicked stairs. Please, let me get you something."

Reizo nodded, "If it's no trouble, then."

Ms. Ibara grinned, stood and left the roof, patting Reizo calmly on the shoulder as she did. Reizo stood alone then, looking out towards the horizon. He walked through the aisles the planters made, doing an S around them all before stopping at the far end of the roof. Unlike the neighboring buildings, there wasn't a fence surrounding it, just a two-foot lip and then empty space all the way down.

Reizo put a foot up on the lip, crossed his arms. The wind took the corners of his shirt, blew them up behind him. A thrill of child-like satisfaction ran across him and grinning like an idiot, he looked over the landscape. The city was a field of abandoned blocks, surrounded by the broken leftovers of what humanity once was. His home, the old once-gas station was a speck of property from here on high and beyond that was woodland until mountains. The road was consumed by it, existing, hidden by terrain. Reizo's grin faded as he looked at the world, his arms dropped. He thought of Hana, of his parents. Of Aki and her mother. Of all the people living in this city, of Hasigawa, Ino and Kawaja House. Trading produce, working the entire summer to supply food enough for winter.

He thought of the many books his parents had, each one treated like treasure. Books in both Japanese and English, books that told stories and fact about how the world once was. Things now just history to Reizo's generation and to those younger than him, just fairy tales. Reizo crossed his arms, turned over his shoulder to look back at the flowers, needing now a swallow of something joyful.

He saw him there, sitting on top of the stairwell housing. He had his back to Reizo, wore a flowing black kimono, short hair the same black color tied into a stubby tail. Reizo's back stiffened. He hesitated, then started towards him.

"Excuse me." He said, halfway there. No response, "Excuse me!"

Reizo stopped just before he would be too close to see the man. He waved his hands, "Hey, you up there!"

The man's head twitched, then returned neutral. Reizo huffed, using the moment of frustration to gather a nearby dirt clod and wing it in his direction. The man reacted instantly, twisting his body and throwing an elbow out to evaporate the projectile into a cloud of loose soil that blew off in the wind. The two locked eyes and Reizo kept a straight face as the kimono-wearing man looked down at him with abject surprise, eyes wide, hands out in front of him.

"Hello." Reizo said.

"You can see me?" Kimono-man said. He was older, maybe late fifties. His forehead took the brunt of the wrinkles, leaving the majority of his face smooth. His hands were tight with many years of hard use, his eyes shimmery grey, dark around the edges. He sat with one knee on the ground, one leg up. He asked again, "Boy-you can see me?"