A Stitch in Time [Act 1: Gearing Up]
Downtown Tokyo, Nightfall.
The weather forecast for the day was that of a cloudy, chilly time out, and if one took the time to test it out, one would prove the forecast to be accurate. The wind was a bitter cool that sent chills down one's bone, and walking down the streets was an arduous task for one who was averse to cold and snow. Most of the shops in the usually busy district opted to close that day, for their clientele opted to stay inside the warmth of their homes. Overall, it was a harsh weather out, though it did not stop several brave and daring souls from wandering the vicinity, one of them a tall, bespectacled man in a trench coat, a red scarf around his neck for warmth. As he took off down the streets, his eyes flickered towards an electronic shop's 46-inch TV, its pictures bright against the gray January sky. He paused in his tracks as the video gave way from a sports drink commercial to a breaking news segment, his steel gaze fixed on the TV's display as the news anchor began her report.
...Authorities have found a connection among the string of seemingly unrelated assaults throughout the country, most recently the failed attempt on President Kirijo's life.
He flinched at the word "Kirijo", but nonetheless continued to watch as images were flashed on the screen during the report.
A young man, barely an adult, with short, brown hair. Ken Amada, 20 years old. In critical condition after being shot two times on the back while on the way back to his university dormitory.
A slightly older man, with a crew cut and a respectable goatee, grinning from ear to ear. Junpei Iori, 27 years old. Also in critical condition after he was found unconscious in his apartment from severe brain trauma caused by a still unknown object.
A woman with windswept brown hair, smiling ever so slightly at the camera. Yukari Takeba, 27 years old. Fighting for her life in Tatsumi Memorial Hospital due to multiple gunshot wounds.
A commanding image of a woman with long, red hair, lips in a serious pout. Mitsuru Kirijo, 28 years old. Likewise.
An investigation has shown that the concerned victims have lived in the same dormitory at one point in time. The police speculate that the string of attacks may have been related to the reports claiming that the former residents of the dormitory have been regularly engaging in covert nighttime activities.
They are currently searching for the whereabouts of the remaining residents, in hopes of shedding light into the mystery surrounding these incidents. While the police have successfully taken one of them under protective custody, two of the former residents's whereabouts are currently unknown as of press time.
The picture on the TV gave way to the image of a young woman in a suit, with short, blonde hair and bright blue eyes, captioned with the name "Aigis", alongside the image of a rugged brunet, with the caption, "Shinjiro Aragaki".
Moreover, in an unprecedented turn of events, Inspector Akihiko Sanada has resisted attempts to take him under custody and has injured some of his fellow officers in his flight, and is currently at large.
The image of a silver-haired man in a suit was superimposed upon the other images, bearing the label "Akihiko Sanada", caused him to frown.
If anyone has sighted Aigis, Aragaki, or Sanada, please contact the following authorities. Do not under any circumstance attempt to take Sanada on your own. I repeat, do not, under any circumstance...
The man scoffed at the TV as the announcer repeated her warning and ratted off a string of contact numbers and personnel. The police? The police couldn't do nuts, for crying out loud! They were dealing with an entity whose powers were beyond that of man, regardless of how much they want to deny that fact. What protection they offered was nothing more than a farce, attempts to save face at their inability to save those who are currently fighting for their lives in the hospital.
Tearing his eyes away from the screen, he continued past the store displays, boot-clad feet crunching against the snow. With a gloved hand, he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck as he trudged on, shivering as a gust of wind blew in his direction. His gaze hardened on a point in the distance as he quickened his pace, his breath coming out in small puffs with the frigid air tinging his cheeks pink with cold. He had a job to do, and barely any time to accomplish it.
