The neon lights of Sotenbori flickered wildly, casting jarring flashes of color across the rain-soaked streets. The air smelled of grilled meat and sweet cocktails from nearby bars, the sounds of laughter and bustling activity creating a constant hum that vibrated through the pavement. In the midst of the chaos stood Yamai Yutaka, his crisp suit a stark contrast to the neon blur around him. He didn’t belong to the frenzy of the night; he was the calm in the storm. His sharp eyes scanned the streets, his face betraying no emotion as he leaned against the concrete railing of the canal. The reflection of neon signs rippled across the water, distorting the bright reds and blues like a broken dream. The city thrived, unaware of the man watching from the edge, waiting. "It's so cold." he mutters to himself.