Old school ways

The runway lights ran like a vein beneath the aircraft as it slowed to taxi. Ares watched the city of Tokyo unspool beneath him, a lattice of glass and neon, of river and rail, a place that had always felt both foreign and familiar in the same breath. He still smelled jet fuel and old leather, his jaw muscle kept twitching with a fatigue that was not entirely physical.

Lila sat beside him, quiet. Her hair had been gathered in an effortless knot, now a few loose strands slipped ...