Abalone: Shadow Shinjuku

By Ryu Takeshi

Some people are different. Some encounters are too. More meaningful, more lifechanging. Even if as short as a single night spent together, escaping from shadows in the darkness of Tokyo. As even a single night is enough for two souls to leave permanent marks on each other, and create a bond as deep as the ocean, as timeless as the universe.

Abalone is a novella set in the world of Ryu Takeshi's first novel, Shadow Shinjuku, and it follows Sato's struggle to help a mysterious woman and child escape their bitter fate. As atmospheric as the novel, this fast-paced novella further expands the world of Shadow Shinjuku, while also holding its own as a standalone must-read for fans of urban fantasy and thrillers with a touch of magic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Purple Crow Press
• Release date: Jul 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201010430

Ryu Takeshi

Ryu loves to write. It's a way for him to find and explore new worlds, both inner ones and those way outside. And this process is spontaneous and instinctive, his stories born out of a single image, following a path Ryu himself never fully understands - not its origin, nor its end -, immersed in the magic of the moment, and the magic of everything that sorrounds us, the visible and the invisible. Ryu is a daydreamer, a believer in the magic of humanity, a friend to all the mystical creatures of the night, and a sucker for the visual beauty of anime. But above all else, Ryu is just a human being, like yourself.

Book preview

Abalone

Shadow Shinjuku

Ryu Takeshi

Published by Purple Crow Press, 2021.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

ABALONE

First edition. July 22, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 Ryu Takeshi.

ISBN: 979-8201010430

Written by Ryu Takeshi.

Also by Ryu Takeshi

Shadow Shinjuku

Shadow Shinjuku

Abalone

Watch for more at Ryu Takeshi’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Ryu Takeshi

ABALONE

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Also By Ryu Takeshi

About the Author

About the Publisher

ABALONE

I was sitting at a corner table, waiting for my curry rice to arrive. The place was full, so it was taking them quite some time. I was fine with waiting, I didn’t have much else to do, but my stomach was making all kinds of noises. I remembered I had a small bar of Meiji chocolate in the pocket of my jacket, so I took it out and removed the wrapping. I put the chocolate in my mouth and bit off a couple of squares.

The taste of the melting chocolate made me close my eyes for a moment, and I felt as if I were experiencing something magical. I adored Meiji. My mind kept telling me to save the rest for dessert, but I couldn’t help it. I bit off another few squares.

I was still enjoying the chocolate’s sweet aftertaste when I opened my eyes again. I looked to my right and saw a little girl staring at me. She was sitting at a table very close to mine. Her eyes kept moving from the chocolate I was holding in my hand to my eyes and then back to the chocolate. As if she were seeing chocolate for the first time in her life.

‘Take some,’ I said, reaching out.

She hesitated for a moment, and when she finally decided to accept it, the woman sitting at her table turned around:

‘We don’t need it. Thank you. Our dinner is about to arrive.’

I caught her eyes for only a moment, as she turned back again rather quickly, but that fraction of a second was enough for a strange feeling to awaken somewhere deep inside me. It felt as if something were holding my heart in a tight grip, and every breath I took made it even tighter.

I saw the woman tell the girl not to look in my direction, and soon, both our dinners arrived.

The curry rice was fine, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. I kept looking at the woman and the little girl instead. I let my gaze wander here and there, not to make it too obvious that I was staring at them, but everyone at the restaurant seemed too absorbed in their food and their company to notice me.

I could tell that the girl was around ten years old, but I had no clue about the woman. She could’ve been anywhere between thirty and fifty. They were both wearing expensive clothes, which looked strange for a low-key place like the one we were in. There was a group of university students in one corner, another group of salarymen, a few young couples, backpackers from abroad, and me. And the whole neighborhood was not the kind of place where you would expect to see people like this woman and this girl. They just didn’t fit in.

I had a strange feeling. It kept squeezing me from the inside, and it wouldn’t let me leave them be and forget about them. I couldn’t tell if the girl was the magnet or the woman, or maybe both.

I watched the woman’s left hand a lot. She had long, slender fingers and bright red fingernails. Her every movement looked like she was playing a violin or holding a brush and painting instead of simply eating with chopsticks. She had smooth, white skin. Everything about her hand seemed delicate. I felt an urge to touch it and feel its softness.

The more I focused on the two of them, the more details I noticed. The girl, for example, had extremely glossy eyes. They looked more like marbles than human eyes. Their color was peculiar too, like a mix of several different colors. Or maybe her eyes were constantly changing color. I couldn’t really tell. But I saw a bit of green there, traces of grey and shades of purple. That’s right, purple. I had never seen eyes like that before.

And then there was the way the girl was eating. It looked strange. She was having a bowl of ramen, and everything looked normal until the moment she put the noodles into her mouth with a pair of chopsticks, but then she’d just swallow them without taking a single bite. The whole lump of long noodles would slip down her throat and disappear.

Another interesting detail was the woman’s scent. The smell of the food was quite strong in the restaurant, but her fine fragrance somehow found its way to my nose. And it was a rather arousing scent. I couldn’t really distinguish its different components, but it felt exotic and silky. It made all the little hairs on my forearms stand up, and for a moment, I even pictured her in erotic lingerie. But there was also a strange component in there, buried under all the different layers of strong and vivid scents, a hidden base layer which was probably her original, natural scent, the scent of her skin, or rather her entire essence. And it felt odd. It felt out of place. Like her presence and