Koharu Ramda feels small sometimes. A quiet kind of exhaustion, mental fog swirling between himself and his life. He's always in a rush when changing his clothes, or he doesn't change at all- passing out in his street clothes, setting his twin on a nag-a-thon about wrinkled jeans and dusty bedsheets. On days when Koharu had nothing to do, nothing to run late for... those days were hard. He glimpses the scars, thin as sewing threads, that still crisscross his shins and the back of his thighs like a someone was distractedly doodling a chess board on his skin. Sometimes he gets lost in counting the scars, in tracing the still raised skin of a scar beneath his belly button. All of his scars are over three years old. He still remembers when his skin was clear of them.

He does not like remembering that they are there.

Koharu clung desperately to the remaining shreds of his usual optimism. He scrambled into thin black jeans, made of fabric too thin and flimsy to be real denim. And his most cheerful jacket, a blood orange hoodie, which was sporadically decorated with images of sliced limes.

A warm salty fog had rolled in while Koharu was in his apartment. And he breathed it in when he reached the front door, deliberately slowing his breath and heartbeat. The fog was thin, barely obscuring his vision, yet, the lingering whiteness set him further on edge. The white film of ocean vapor made the brownstone buildings look like the forgotten entrances to tombs. The fog made him feel tacky, bright and vulnerable. Shadowed memories of Shep waited around every corner as Koharu jogged through the complex of apartment buildings.

Shep leaning against the wall, glaring with bloodshot eyes. It was just some wooden planks leaning against the wall.

Shep chasing Koharu, long thick-knuckled fingers reaching to snag and drag Koharu by his hair. Koharu whipped his head around, both as a moment of wariness, and evasion. Just a fat rat scrambling into a garbage bag. Still, he was glad he wore his hair much shorter now.

Over there, was that Shep? Shep laughing too hard, leaning heavily against a dumpster, trying to put out his joint on Koharu's skin but being too sluggish to catch him? No. that was years ago.

Koharu finally made it outside the labyrinth of brownstones. Looking out over The Slats, he realized that he had no idea where he was supposed to go. He could perhaps bring his case to a courthouse, file for Shep's removal from the city once more. But he had no lawyer. And Koharu could already see the disinterested faces of the clerks as he tried to explain.

"I need you to kick out my ex-pimp. Again. ... Yes Really, And this time, I have no idea where he is- I haven't seen him face to face. I just heard from another ex-hooker that my ex-pimp was here in the city... Except there was no conclusive evidence that he was my pimp. I mean everybody knew. But on paper, there was no evidence. But that's only on paper. I'm sure theres still something on my case file, if you would check..."

That didn't paint him in the best light. Koharu could paint the picture? Try to get more sympathy? "See, I first came here thinking I would be doing clerical work? For a construction company? I signed a contract... But they weren't who I thought they were... they brought me out to The Phalinges... They told me to..."

He couldn't tell them his story... he just couldn't. And besides... there were hundreds of sob stories like his. Possibly thousands. His was just rare because it had such a happy ending. Koharu considered going to the police station where he had first met Caitlyn... but he was pretty sure Caitlyn had later mentioned that she was merely on loan  to the police. She was no longer fully part of them. He didn't know the whole story on that. He kicked himself.

It had always been his biggest regret about his old cellphone getting water damaged, in replacing his sim card Koharu lost Caitlyn's cellphone number. And he had never written it down, nor ever asked for an email. Of all the stupid mistakes... And Caitlyn hadn't just been kind, expediting the process of Shep's eviction and then finding Koharu a brilliant lawyer willing to take him on pro bono. She was also hysterically funny. Dry and witty, a marvelous singer, and a really happy drunk. She had really warm brown eyes, she giggled like a mischievous teenager when he told her dirty jokes. And she had never judged him. Never asking for more details than he was willing to share, never stopping him when would ramble on, telling her far too much.

Koharu walked south, hugging the edge of the road. Droves of tourists still lingered and snapped photos of The Slats. When one tourist turned, camera lens glinting in the muted light, and snapped a picture past Koharu's head, Koharu turned to look. There was the tops of the Glaswerk Towers were visible from where he stood. Two identical towers of reflective glass with a strikingly pretty blue sheen. Easily 50 floors taller than every other structure around it, and the center of operations for both Kaipen Nung's largest police station and the KNNA. If anyone knew how to get a hold of Caitlyn, they would be there.

Feeling a kind wind at his back, Koharu turned purposefully, making his way toward the towers at the far west corner of the city. Mentally Koharu tried to think of how he would explain why he needed to reach Caitlyn.

"I'm her friend. She'll want to see me."

"It's a matter of life and death!"

"I was invited to work in Kaipen Nung under very false pretenses. One of the perpetrators is back!"

'What were those false pretenses? What happened?' asked the officer that greeted him in his head, it looked rather like the football star officer from Koharu's lucky day at the station. Koharu might have to explain himself... Could he do that? Could he say it all in way that didn't get him lost in mental fog?

"I was forced to service some people.... a lot of old ladies. And men. But luckily, mostly old ladies. At first. But then they said that I was old news, that I needed to do more- they used to force me and the other girls out of the 'hostel' with a cattle prod. I shit you not. I had to walk the strip... they assigned me this really bad Handler. He was abusive but I- I needed the money for my family... and Kaipen is such an amazing city. And I could buy medicine for my grandma so much cheaper here. So I stayed. And Now I'm a citizen. Because motels are not the only cramped and damp holes that sailors of every kind were willing to rent. And I made enough money off of decent nautical types and indecent closeted 1% types that I was considered a contribution to the city. I don't know if I'm proud of that. But basically, I earned my place in this city. More than you probably did. And I Pay My Taxes. And I had that handler of mine Expelled from this city. And now he's back. And he shouldn't be. Please kick him out again... by the way, he hasn't attacked me yet and I have no idea where he is." That sounded a little too aggressive, maybe pull it back.

Koharu walked right into an old lady with a walker. She nearly fell to the ground and her walker ended up flying into a nearby mailbox.

"I'm so sorry!" Koharu apologized. He apologized in spanish, in chinese, than tagalog and french. He fussed around her as she righted herself, reclaiming her walker, leaking apologies all the way. And she placed a a soft, impossibly wrinkled hand to his face. Her face was like a discolored elephant, her hair was pure white, and the cataract in her left eye caught the setting sun. She patted Koharu's cheek in a way that made him feel small. Yet Small in a way that was familiar, as if he was once again young, a wholesome child, complete, beloved. This old stranger beamed up at him.

"Everything's Okay, Puppy. Everything is Ohhkay"

And she went on her way, humming a tune, her walker loudly stamping it's way along the street. And Koharu watched her go. He felt warm inside. And also terribly homesick.

When he turned back around, to look for the towers, he found himself already only 100 yards from the tower's feet. Where did the distance go? Where did my time go? 

Koharu felt braver though,  motion activated doors hissed open in welcome. And as he walked in he had his head held high.