To some, Ikebukro is a city designed to escape the harshness of what the real world had to offer aside the fairytale television. Millions of people cycle in and out of the metropolis daily, indulging themselves in what its maze of streets had to propose. Other people find Ikebukuro to be a city where cultures clash and interact with each other, blending instantly; a multi-cultural center of sorts. Foreigners from all over the world come here to seek change and witness a hidden wonder of this well-worn world. A wide variety of faces, music, literature, and art are shared within the city, each comparing and contrasting ways of life to another's.
However, just like anywhere else, danger can leap out at you at any time and turn your life into a living hell; all doors locked tight without a skeleton key. Gangs of misfits and rejects scurry through the alleyways like vile pestilence, wreaking havoc wherever they go. Robberies, mugs, gang beatings, even death can occur just around the friendly sushi corner, and most of the locals have learned to never let their guard down. Ever.
These chaotic elements are what make Ikebukuro the city that stands today. With its language of rumors and superstitions, it is a joker's city, created by the biggest clown of all: God.
7:00 pm, closing time. At last, Junko was released from her daily torture as a mechanic. The auto-shop garage where she worked, one of many scattered across Ikebukuro, was a rats nest where she had to dedicate eight hours of her precious time four days a week. Everything was covered in grease and other unmentionables, but the mechanics could fix anything from a bicycle gear to a car engine. If only they knew as much about cleaning themselves as they knew how many nuts and bolts were in a motorcycle, Junko would be satisfied.
The excited 29 year old dashed out of the garage as fast as her legs could carry her when the clock freed her. With the clink of the door she filled her lungs with Ikebukro atmosphere: a twisted combination of smoke, perfumes, people, and best of all, life. Junko unconsciously laughed as the city that had been her home for the past decade pulsed before her murky blue eyes. A small breeze tossed her lengthy ashen brown hair around like it was a play toy. To her right she witnessed a small cat fight commence about who got a purse on sale. To her left a group of boys, all wearing identical yellow neckerchiefs, were swearing like sailors at random people trying to enjoy their evening.
Either these twerps are brave enough to bear the symbol of the infamous Yellow Scarves, or they're pathetic wannabees trying to act "tough". Her thin lips formed a tight line, on the brink of a frown at the thoughts of previous riots caused by the color gangs. She leaned towards the latter; these boys were definitely the type to squeal to their mommy at the first sign of trouble.
Turning on her heel, she began to walk south. There had been no requests from any of her clients; heck, her phone didn't ring once that day. For the first time in what seemed like eternity, Junko had a night to herself, or at least for now. Her clients could unfortunately call at any time, but they chose to neglect that today. Maybe I'll go to the park. She thought.
*Buzz Buzz* Crap. Grudgingly taking out her customized cell phone, Junko read the receiving text message from the contact "V". Guess I had my hopes up too high. Flipping the cover open, she opened the text.
Meet in The Playground ASAP, I've got something to show ya! ^w^
Junko cocked an eyebrow. Leave it to Viulu to leave out all of the juicy details, damn she's such a tease.
She descended to the underground subways and took a train deeper into the city. A small section of Ikebukuro was reserved for the rejects, runaways, druggies, even illegal foreigners to call home. Having earned the title "The Playground" it was composed of run down and out dated buildings that no one bothered to maintain or take down.
It is the perfect hiding spot.
Junko navigated through the maze like alleyways, a catacomb like path which she had memorized ages ago. She ventured deeper into the playground until she arrived at an unusually bulky brick building, which seemed like it used to be an apartment complex. An earthquake disaster waiting to happen, the sloppily aligned bricks were on the brink of falling over. The windows were bashed in, the front door with chipped paint was barley attached to its abused hinges.
Junko kneeled down and scooped up a few pebbles. She took aim at the top cluster of windows, and tossed the pebbles towards them. A gentle clink rang through the narrow streets, echoing for longer than intended, making her shiver. Moments later a bright red blur appeared in one of the windows. Once her eyes focused, Junko noticed it was the young woman she was looking for. Her pixy fire red hair practically glowed in the building, with penetrating green eyes to compliment.
"Yo babe, what took you so long?!" The woman drawled, propping her elbow against the window pane.
Junko shrugged. "Got held up at the shop VI, you know how it is." She called. Viulu, or VI for short, was an illegal immigrant. Originally from Russia, she smuggled to Ikebukuro to find change, just like the rest of the city's inhabitants. With flaming red hair and emerald green eyes with corresponding energy, Zoid was a storm just waiting to burst out and consume everything in its path.
Viulu tapped the imaginary watch on her wrist. "Tick tock silly girl, you know I hate waiting!" she grinned devilishly climbing out the window to meet with her companion.
"Uh, I'm not sure that's-"Before Junko could finish VI leapt out the window and dove towards a nearby balcony. The crumbling material was barely able to hold the girls weight for a few seconds before collapsing all together. Without missing a beat she pushed herself off the decaying structure, this time descending to the street where Junko gawked at the damage she was causing. VI landed gracefully beside her companion, her muscles peeking out of her tank top were completely relaxed.
Angry voices of all languages were directed at VI for the damage she had done, but she brushed them off easily. "Not like you lazy bums used that balcony anyway…" she muttered. She stretched her back and winked at Junko.
"Give it a rest Junko, this dumps bursting at the seams already. I might as well speed up the process."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that mate." Junko sighed. "So what is this thing you want to show me?"
VI grinned. "It's called fun, Junko. Say it with me." Junko just stared at her partner, debating if she had really gone crazy this time. VI rolled her eyes.
"When was the last time you had fun, eh?" VI asked. Junko shrugged.
"Get to the point already."
"You and me, race to the basketball court." VI said, scratching her neck. "My cellphone is hidden underneath part of the fence. Our stingy higher ups will be calling in, oh I don't know, five minutes at best-"Before Zoid could finish her proposition Junko had already climbed a rickety fire escape, tying her hair back into a ponytail.
VI cursed in Russian. "I didn't even say go yet!" she yelled. Junko didn't stop but turned her head to respond.
"YOU BLOODY WANKER! DON'T JUST LEAVE VALUABLES LYING AROUND!" She screeched. "THIS IS IKEBUKURO FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!" VI only howled with laughter as she followed Junko in hot pursuit.
The race was on.
Junko flipped, dodged, and ran; her body performed each acrobatic movement flawlessly as she maneuvered through The Playground. Her heart was pounding in her chest, struggling to supply her muscles with the oxygen she needed. VI followed closely on a parallel path of rooftops, making silly faces at her frustrated comrade whenever possible. Eventually the speedy duo was only a few blocks from their target: a rundown basketball court on the outskirts of The Playground. This particular court was in terrible shape, there were dozens of cracks in the concrete and its hoops were coated with rust. However, this long abandoned court was now the finishing line.
"Junko, your moves are sloppy!" VI teased.
"You seem pretty confident!" Junko jeered, making a swift leap off a rooftop and onto the street. Breaking into a full sprint, there was nothing standing between the woman and her objective.
Well, except for the motorcyclist zooming towards her. Junko tried to speed up but tripped on a crack in the asphalt. She was as good as dead. The driver, however, was not prepared to let the helpless girl die and made a quick adjustment to his steering. The motorcycle made a sound that Junko could've sworn was a horse as it swerved around her. The riders head was completely covered in a unique helmet with a yellow cat head shape and jet black eye screen. Junko couldn't see his face, or any part of his body thanks to the skin tight leather jump suit he was wearing. Seriously, what's up with this guy? Before Junko could utter a word the rider just gave her a thumb up before driving away, his bike repeating its eerie horse sonance.
"Junko!" VI hurried over to her companions' side, offering her a hand. "What the hell just happened, and who was that guy?!" Junko took her hand, wincing at the pain in her leg. Surely she hadn't broken anything, but it still stung.
"No idea VI, that-"
A distant chime suddenly spread into the air. VI and Junko turned to the court, which was directly in front of them now. A small blinking light was in plain sight, under the fence as promised. The duo scrambled to the phone, each desperate to win the race. Junko reached the fence first but VI tackled her out of the way. Grunting with frustration, Junko kicked VI in the stomach forcing her to let go. Junko reached for the phone, grasping it firmly before opening the receiver.
"Reporting."
"This is not Agent VI. Who is this?" A heavily warped voice asked on the other line. Junko motioned VI to take the phone. Covering the receiver she passed the phone to her, winking.
"VI reporting." VI said. A few moments of silence went on before she spoke again. "Yeah, no more races…I got it." she flipped the receiver closed.
"We got ourselves a job?" Junko asked. VI nodded slowly, licking her chapped lips.
"A big one, straight from the top." she replied. Junko cocked an eyebrow.
"This ought to be good…race you to the warehouse?"