The biggest disadvantage to being a lycan in Tokyo was that no one space was quite big enough to have a good run in.
Dog parks would be fine if the other inhabitants didn't always aggressively reject something so strange-smelling, sending the unfamiliar away with their tail between their legs and sometimes even a keen human eye that could tell the difference between a husky and a wolf at their back. Regular parks and the lawns surrounding temples were tricky during the day - no leash, no owner, no dice. At night, the homeless mutts would strike, and those weren't afraid to do serious damage and teach intruders a harsh lesson.
Suburb streets after dark where nothing but stray cats and scattered people roam until morning? Well, being hardly more than a big-pawed pup, running through the narrow alleyways isn't always possible without wiping out into a clutch of trash cans now and then and effectively waking the neighborhood...and usually alerting cops who would be more than pleased to drag off some dingy dog by the scruff.
Living in such a place didn't really benefit a lycan's sanity, either, for that matter; the inability to run freely and having a decently busy life as a human meant less time to actually rid oneself of stress, anger, excitement, too much of any emotion. Yutara had been antsy and jittering out of his socks for days, pent-up emotions ready to spill out in the form of endless crankiness and extreme money loss that came with binge-eating practically every morsel at any food stalls within a mile radius.
Then finally, finally a day came around where nothing needed to be done, nobody was nagging for this or that or a melody or an errend. Yutara stumbled out the door just after the sun had risen without even bothering to put on shoes first and barely caught the train at the station closest to his apartment, somehow managed to keep from forcing open the doors and tuck-and-rolling out as they neared what had been the furthest point from the actual city on the railway map, and then made it to the front step of the station overlooking a countryside village without knocking anyone over in the process. He started running-- through the street, over stout garden fences, around trees and telephone poles until he reached a thicket of trees in the outskirts. Even then, though, he didn't stop, more or less tearing off all traces of personhood as he disappeared within a dense clutch of bushes and then emerged moments later as a smoke-cloud-colored canine. The pup hit his top speed within seconds, taking off across a wheat field, then one of lavender, then miraculously cleared a stream without missing a beat and kept going into a thin forest, the empty grassy plain beyond in his sights.
As overrated as such a description may be, nothing could compare to a breeze fluttering through fur, the feeling of springy grass and soft dirt under his paws rather than the aching slap of concrete, afternoon sun warming his muscles as he forged his own path through the unmarred stretches of nature and made it his own for the next few hours. One ear perked up at the hawk swirling above him, creating a gentle disturbance in the air and bringing more life to the paradise that was clean, beautiful open space.
When the wind had taken the last of his breath, Yutara slowed to a quick padding and and eventually plopped onto his side in a small patch of wildflowers, rolling onto his back. Though he closed his eyes, both fluffy ears swiveled around, catching notes of frogs in the distance, bees floating throughout the field, uncertain four-legged footsteps nearby and the rustling of pre-autumn leaves all around. There was nothing to care about. Nothing to worry about.
All that mattered for the moment was the chance to be a lycan out of the city.
