Night in Tokyo held a life and vibrancy all its own, but there was nothing vibrant about the little lane, as it stood, grey and lifeless. The entire area seemed consumed by a darkness that didn't come from the night, as even the light of the streetlamps was strangely dim. Lifelss, even as he thought himself to be. He, the man dressed in the remains of an expensive coat, a man whose walk was silent and aimless. A man weary of life. He was walking in the direction which would take him to the end of the alley. Presently, he stopped. There was a small lamp burning in the window of one of the shops, the only sign of life in a region devastated by earthquakes. Although the paint of the facade