The bus rocked gently as it merged onto the highway, the low rumble of the engine mixing with the occasional squeak of the overhead luggage rack. Rows of tired passengers leaned against windows, lulled into sleep by the warm hum of travel. Outside, the world blurred past in ribbons of neon, distant storefronts and roadside lights trailing into a glittering smear.
Oliver sat near the back, elbow propped on the window ledge, cheek pressed lazily against his palm. He watched the streaks of light go by, his mind somewhere between half-dream and quiet anticipation. Aiko sat beside him, curled like a cat with her knees pulled up on the seat. Her eyes sparkled with some hidden amusement.
Then, without a word, she reached into the wide-brimmed hat she always wore—like it was just part of her body, the kind of hat you forgot she even had on. From its depths, she pulled out something absurd: a magician's cape—pitch black with a lapis-blue satin interior and silver stars stitched along the hem. It looked far too large to fit inside the hat, yet she drew it out without resistance, fluffing it with a dramatic flair.
Oliver gave her a sidelong glance, half a smirk tugging at his lips. "Seriously?"
Aiko didn't answer immediately. She slid the cape around her shoulders and fastened it at the collar with a little silver clasp shaped like a crescent moon. Then, just as smoothly, she produced a second one—smaller, trimmed in the same silver thread—and held it out like an offering.
"For my assistant," she said, grinning.
He stared at the thing like it was radioactive. "I'd need a bribe to wear that in public."
Aiko tilted her head, amused. "Oh?" she said, as if she'd expected the challenge. She set the second cape aside and moved closer in the seat, tucking her legs beneath her. "How about this for a bribe…"
And before he could react, she swung one leg over and lowered herself onto his lap with the grace of someone who'd done far more reckless things without a second thought. The scent of her hair, sweet and subtle like sakura petals, filled his nose. Her cape draped around them both like a theater curtain closing over a stage.
"I'll sit here," she said, voice low, playful. "And we'll make out all the way to Tokyo. Would that make you wear the assistant cloak?"
Oliver leaned back against the window, his heartbeat just a little louder in his chest. "You really know how to negotiate," he muttered, glancing at the cape beside him.
Aiko smirked, drawing her face just inches from his. "Well? What's it gonna be, assistant?"
He grinned despite himself, lips brushing hers as he murmured, "I'm thinking about it."
The bus hummed along the highway, the endless city lights reflecting like scattered stars in the windows. Oliver's mind was in a whirl, partly from the playful challenge Aiko had set, but mostly from the warmth of her body against his and the undeniable pull of her lips so close to his own.
Aiko's playful grin had softened into something more tantalizing, her eyes glinting with mischief. Oliver let out a breath, then, without saying another word, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were warm and soft, and the moment they touched, the world around them seemed to fall away. There was a flicker of laughter between them as they shared the kiss, their bodies pressing closer as the seconds stretched into minutes.
Aiko's hands roamed lazily, tracing the outline of his jaw, her fingers dancing across his skin as the kiss deepened. She felt light, almost weightless, as if the bus ride had become something more than just a mode of transportation. There was no longer the hum of the engine or the soft murmur of other passengers—only the two of them, wrapped up in the warmth of the kiss.
For a moment, Oliver forgot everything but her—the way her breath quickened, the sound of her laughter as they pulled apart briefly before diving back into another kiss. But there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind, one that wouldn't go away no matter how much he wanted to be lost in the moment.
He had promised to wear the cape.
And so, reluctantly, but with a sense of humor, he pulled away slightly. His voice was hushed but teasing. "Alright, alright. I'll wear it. But only because you're a great negotiator."
Aiko smirked, her lips still swollen from the kiss. "Good. I'm always good for a deal."
Oliver chuckled and glanced down at the cape, picking it up from where it had fallen beside him. The deep violet fabric felt odd in his hands, but as he draped it over his shoulders, he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. It wasn't something he'd ever expected to wear, yet the way Aiko looked at him made it feel like something more.
The bus ride continued in a comfortable silence, with the occasional glance exchanged between them. Aiko leaned against him, her head on his shoulder as the landscape outside shifted into the illuminated skyline of Tokyo.
The soft glow of Tokyo's skyline filled the bus windows, the sprawling city stretching into the distance like a canvas splattered with neon and lights. The contrast between the darkness of the night and the vibrant, pulsating city was almost surreal. As the bus began to slow, the first glimpses of their destination became clearer—towering buildings, flashing signs, and the steady hum of a city that never truly slept.
Oliver sat up slightly, adjusting the magician's cloak, which now rested awkwardly on his shoulders. It swirled around him in the dim light, the silver stars catching the reflections of the passing city, making him feel more ridiculous than he cared to admit. Yet, despite the absurdity of the situation, he couldn't help but find a strange sense of satisfaction in it. Aiko had that effect on him—ever since they had met, everything felt like an adventure with her, no matter how strange.
Aiko, still in her own cloak, sat casually beside him, her eyes darting toward the window as she observed the bustling city. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile, as if she'd already won some unseen contest.
"You look... ridiculous," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes, her hand brushing against the soft fabric of the cloak that draped over him.
Oliver snorted, adjusting it once more. "I feel ridiculous." His eyes lingered on the glowing billboards outside as the bus neared its stop. "But hey, it's your fault, remember? You offered the bribe, not me."
"Fair enough," Aiko said with a shrug, her smile only widening. "But I'll admit, you pull it off better than I expected."
He rolled his eyes, "You're really not gonna let me live this down, are you?"
Aiko grinned devilishly. "Of course not. This is too good to forget." She watched him for a moment longer, her playful gaze softening just a bit. "But, you know... it suits you."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "A magician's cape?"
"Yeah," she said, her voice dropping to a more teasing tone. "Makes you look like you're about to pull a rabbit out of your hat—or maybe a whole new persona."
Oliver glanced back at the window, the bus now slowing to a stop. The lights outside became sharper, more focused as they neared their final destination.
"Tokyo," he muttered under his breath, half in disbelief. They were here. The hustle and bustle of the city were practically vibrating through the walls of the bus. He'd never been one to shy away from the unknown, but something about this place felt different. More alive. More chaotic.
Aiko leaned in closer, her voice low as the bus came to a complete halt. "Well, are you ready for the show to begin?"
Oliver chuckled, standing up and brushing the folds of the cloak into place. "Guess there's no turning back now."
As the bus doors hissed open, a rush of cool night air filled the space, mingling with the sounds of the city. People poured off the bus, heading toward their destinations, as Tokyo unfolded in its chaotic glory. Neon signs flashed in every direction, their messages competing for attention, and the streets were alive with people rushing by, many of them still awake despite the late hour.
Aiko, ever the dramatic one, stood beside him, fixing her cloak with a flourish as she gave him a knowing look. "After you, assistant."
Oliver shot her a mock glare but couldn't suppress a smile. He adjusted the cape one final time before stepping off the bus, feeling the weight of the city pressing in around him. It was a strange feeling—being here, in the heart of Tokyo, wearing something so out of place—but it was a feeling that also stirred something exciting within him.
"Let's see where this crazy city takes us," he said, as they stepped onto the bustling street.
Aiko, her gaze sparkling as always, followed him into the throng of people, the silver stars on his cloak catching the lights of the city as the two of them disappeared into the night.
Oliver stepped off the bus, the evening air of Tokyo rushing in to greet him, cool and tinged with the faintest scent of street food and city lights. His hand instinctively brushed the magician's cloak, now settled somewhat more comfortably on his shoulders. A wave of absurdity still washed over him, but as he glanced at Aiko, her bright eyes sparkling with mischief, he couldn't help but feel an odd sense of camaraderie. There was something about her—something unpredictable—that kept him on his toes, like the city itself.
Tokyo, with its endless neon glow and rhythm of life, unfolded around them. The sidewalks were crowded with pedestrians, some hurrying past, others ambling without a care. Above, towering skyscrapers glittered in the night sky, their windows reflecting the chaos of the streets below. Oliver had never been to the city before, but the way Aiko moved through it—like she was a part of the city's pulse itself—made him feel like an outsider looking in.
He couldn't quite figure out how she did it, but there was a magic to her. Literally, and figuratively. The way her hands would disappear beneath the edges of her cloak or behind her hat, only to emerge with some new trinket—an elaborate flower, a piece of jewelry, once even a small plush animal she tossed to a nearby child—was something out of a magician's playbook. It was as if she had an invisible pocket dimension where all these items resided. It was her little game, something she seemed to enjoy.
And, of course, she used it to her advantage. They had passed a group of tourists earlier—Aiko, with her usual grace, had casually conjured a flower out of nowhere, the petals sparkling in the dim light before presenting it with a flourish to a passing stranger. The stranger had looked completely taken aback, and Aiko had smiled innocently, as if she wasn't making magic happen right in front of them.
Oliver had caught on quickly, though. He wasn't just some passive observer. He'd pieced together how her ability worked. She could pull objects into view whenever her hands were out of sight—behind her back, under her cloak, or even below her hat. It made her seem like a master illusionist, pulling items from thin air. He wondered if she had any limits to it, but he hadn't dared ask yet. The last thing he wanted was to sound like he was poking too hard into her secrets.
As the night wore on, they walked through the city, sometimes in circles, sometimes down alleyways that seemed to lead nowhere in particular. Aiko, for her part, was in no hurry. Her footsteps were light, and her expression never once showed signs of fatigue. It was as if the city had no end for her. She kept up the show, conjuring little trinkets and amusing herself with the reactions of passersby.
Oliver, though, was growing increasingly confused. He glanced around. The lights of Tokyo, the music spilling from stores, the bustling crowds—it all seemed to blur into one constant motion. His feet were sore, his mind wandering, wondering if this was all part of some strange plan or if they were just… walking randomly.
Finally, after a few more turns down narrow streets, Oliver couldn't take it anymore. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, catching Aiko's attention. "I know you dragged me out of school to look for a figment, but aren't we just walking randomly at this point?"
Aiko paused, the ever-present mischievous smile on her lips, and looked around the bustling street before turning back to him. "Yep," she said with a casual shrug. "There's really nothing else we can do right now. I don't even think I'd be out right now since its hunting patterns are around 7 to 9 PM."
Oliver blinked. "So… we're not even hunting a figment right now? You dragged me all the way to Tokyo just to… walk in circles?"
"Pretty much," she replied, her grin widening. "But hey, Tokyo's fun, right? It's all part of the adventure. Besides, I'm sure it'll turn up soon enough. Figments don't exactly have a timetable, you know."
Oliver gave a dry laugh, the absurdity of it all settling in. He should have known better than to expect any kind of normality with Aiko around.
Oliver gave her a tired look, one brow raised. "So we're just… waiting on a maybe."
Aiko gave a theatrical bow, the magician's cape fluttering around her legs. "Exactly! Now you're getting it. Life's a big maybe, Ollie. Tokyo just makes it shinier."
He groaned and leaned against the side of a vending machine, watching the swirl of city lights and traffic blur past in an endless stream. His feet ached, his patience thinner than the thread of logic holding this whole outing together.
"Cheer up," she said suddenly, elbowing his side. "How about I teach you something fun?"
Before he could protest, she caught his sleeve and tugged him with surprising strength into a narrow alleyway wedged between a soba shop and a convenience store. The scent of fried food and cigarettes still lingered in the air, the dim glow of a flickering sign their only light.
Oliver gave the alley a wary look. "This feels like the part in a story where someone gets mugged."
"If you're lucky," she teased, letting go of his sleeve and turning to face him, eyes gleaming.
"I didn't tell you what the scissors I gave you do, did I?" Aiko said, reaching under her cloak.
She withdrew a pair of scissors—not ordinary ones. These were violet, sleek, almost regal-looking. Strange silver runes danced along the blades, faintly pulsing in the low light. They looked nearly identical to the pair stuffed in the inner pocket of Oliver's blazer. He hadn't touched them since she'd handed them.
From beneath her cloak, she brought out a small bird—a sparrow, soft brown with twitching wings and a blinking, confused gaze.
Oliver's brow furrowed.
Aiko raised the scissors and hovered them just above the bird's head.
"What do you think would happen," she asked, her voice low and curious, "if I closed these blades?"
He stared at her, unsure if she was serious. "I… hope you're not gonna actually—"
She said nothing.
The blades closed with a soft snip, sliding cleanly through the bird's head.
But the bird didn't die. It didn't even flinch. The scissors had passed through it like mist, like a ghost cutting air. The sparrow blinked once, then tilted its head.
"Pretty cool, right?" she said with a grin, still holding the bird as she continued snipping lazily through its head. "It's not really cutting anything… unless you want it to."
Oliver felt a cold ripple crawl up his spine, his mind already racing ahead—imagining what could happen next.
"But," Aiko continued, as if explaining a party trick, "what if I did want to cut it?"
With a click, the scissors snapped again—but this time, the blade passed cleanly through, and the bird's head fell. It hit the alley floor with a soft, harmless thud.
No blood.
No violence.
Just an impossible act performed like it was the most casual thing in the world.
The bird's body flapped suddenly, shooting into the air as if it hadn't just been decapitated. Wings fluttered, feathers ruffled—and the headless body soared up between the walls, circling overhead.
Meanwhile, the severed head twitched on the concrete, beady black eyes swiveling in panic, spinning this way and that like it had no idea what was happening.
Oliver stared. "What the actual hell."
Aiko flicked her hair back and beamed. "Isn't it great? These babies only cut figments—and anything brought through the dream pattern. So you could say they cut dreams, not reality. Unless, of course, you want them to cut reality. It's all about intention."
She plucked the head from the ground and gently set it back on the bird's flying body as it swooped low to return to her hand. A soft shimmer pulsed around it—and then the bird was whole again: head, body, feathers, all restored. It chirped, utterly unaffected, and she let it go.
It zipped into the air, circling above them once before landing on Aiko's shoulder.
Then, without warning, its head slid off and dropped to the ground.
"But keep in mind," Aiko said cheerfully, "you can't fix what you've cut~"