Sunshine 60 was famous for once being the tallest building in Japan. Even after that record was broken by Tokyo City Hall and Landmark Tower, it was a bustling leisure destination, packed with students and families on the weekends thanks to its aquarium and the Namja Town amusement park.
He knew it was a lame answer, but Mikado couldn’t think of any other place to go. Well, there was one place, something he recognized from a famous television show.
“Hey, what about Ikebukuro West Gate Park…?”
“Oh, I watched that show, too. Got the novels, the manga, everything.”
“I’m not talking about the show, I mean the actual West Gate Park.”
Masaomi looked stunned for a moment, then laughed in understanding.
“Oh, just call it Nishiguchi Koen in Japanese like normal.”
“Huh? But…I thought all the Ikebukuroites called it by the English name.”
“What’s an Ikebukuroite? So what’s up, you wanna go there?” Masaomi asked, stopping in his tracks. Mikado shook his head.
“N-no, let’s not! It’s almost nighttime! The color gangs will kill us!”
“Easy, buddy, don’t act like it’s some life-and-death matter. It’s only six o’clock, for crying out loud! I see you’re still a total coward.”
Masaomi smiled exasperatedly and escorted Mikado through the crowd. It wasn’t as dense here as it was outside of the ticket barrier, but it was still difficult for Mikado to maneuver without hitting anyone.
“There aren’t as many color gangs anymore. There used to be a lot more of them you’d see around last year, but there was a big war with Saitama, and a few dozen of ’em got locked up. After that, anytime you got a few people wearing the same color together, the cops would rush ’em real quick. Plus, even at night, there’s nothing crazy going on until at least after all the office workers and salarymen head home. The only exception is the big groups, like the bosozoku motorcycle gangs. Sometimes you see articles or news pieces on how they got into a big battle with the cops. Not here, but over in Kabukicho.”
“Bosozoku!”
“But they’re not gonna be hanging around the station at this hour is what I’m saying.”
Mikado heaved a sigh of relief. “So is Ikebukuro safe these days?”
“I really only know half of what goes on, so this is partly guesswork. There are lots of color gangs and bikers around still, and there’s plenty of dangerous stuff aside from them. Plus, even when it comes to ordinary people, there are some you can never mess with. Then again, you’re not the type to go mad dogging people and picking fights. Just watch out for the pimps and shady businessmen and stay away from the thugs and bosozoku, and you’ll be fine.”
“I see.”
Mikado couldn’t help but wonder about the people “you can never mess with,” but he didn’t question Masaomi any further.
They headed down a narrower tunnel and onto the escalator leading up to the surface. Mikado glanced around and noticed enormous posters covering the entire wall. They featured various things—jewelers, upcoming movies, even a manga-style illustration of a girl.
When they reached the top of the escalator and exited onto the street, the air was still packed tight with people, and only the backdrop had changed.
Amid the unchanging sea of humanity, people in Windbreakers handed out tissue packets with business advertisements on the outside. Some handed them only to women, while others were less discriminate in their targets. Some of those who distributed only to men were very clearly singling out those worthy of their benefaction—Mikado was solidly ignored.
The crowds themselves were made up of a variety of people, from salarymen to the young and underemployed, teenage girls, even foreigners. But the crowd was not perfectly mixed; each type seemed to cluster with others of its ilk, forming distinct territories. Occasionally a person from one territory would venture forth and call out to a person of a different type. Even these sights were pushed along in the sheer wave of moving humanity.
This was a familiar phenomenon to Masaomi, but everything about it was exciting and new to Mikado. There had never been a sea of humanity like this back home, even at the largest shopping mall. He was witnessing a world he’d only ever seen on the Internet or in comic books.
When he related this to Masaomi, his friend laughed and said, “Next time I should take you to Shinjuku or Shibuya. Harajuku would be pretty good, too, if you want a real culture shock. There’s also Akiba…but if you just want to see crowds, how about we hit up a racing track?”
“I’ll pass,” Mikado said politely. They’d exited onto one of the main roads. Cars raced busily down the multilane street, and there was a much larger road blocking the sky above them.
“That up there is the Metropolitan Expressway. Oh yeah, and the street we just took here is called Sixtieth Floor Street. There’s also a Sunshine Street, but be careful not to get confused, because the Cinema Sunshine is actually on Sixtieth Floor Street. Dang, I should have shown you around that area since we just passed it.”
“It’s okay, we can do that another time,” Mikado said. He was so distracted by the incredible crowds that he was failing to take in the sights of the city. At this rate, he’d never be able to get to Sunshine on his own from the station.
While they waited for the light to change, Masaomi looked back at the way they’d come and muttered, “I didn’t see Simon or Shizuo today. I bet Yumasaki and Karisawa are at the arcade, though.”
“Who?” Mikado asked automatically, though he knew Masaomi was just talking to himself.
“Uhh, Yumasaki and Karisawa are just people I know. Simon and Shizuo are two of those guys I was telling you about earlier—the ones you don’t mess with. But as long as you lead a normal life, you don’t need to speak to Shizuo Heiwajima, and if you see him, your best bet is to run away.”