And he saunters off, leaving me alone in the abandoned streets, tipping an imaginary hat as he walks away. I throw my shoe at him. The effort, however, is fruitless; Kenji catches my shoe midair. He’s now waiting for me, ten steps ahead, holding my tennis shoe in his hand as I hop awkwardly in his direction. I don’t have to turn around to see the smirks on the soldiers’ faces some distance behind us.
KENJI ✋🏼😭
