"...June...twenty? 1887...?" I stared at the ID, flipping through the booklet only to find the same black blocky letters, listing a family name, occupation, and address, the last of which I couldn't discern, due to the rain bleeding through. Droplets dripped from my hair and onto the weak paper, even as I leaned myself further under the shelter of the antique shop. 
"That's my birthday except...what's with the 1887..?" I tilted my head, trying to get a better look in the darkness. The faint gold hue of dawn was staring to streak through the sky, but the rain clouds remained stubborn, blocking out the light as far as they could. One glance up could tell you that the town was beginning to stir, soft glows of candle light flickering behind shoji paneled windows, and the western equivalent alike. Silhouettes began to shift about, the distant clang of metal and clatter of products being moved for the morning sales within the cobblestone streets. I paid no mind to it, the ID occupying my thoughts as I flipped through it again, finding nothing of use besides my supposed birth year, and the vague occupation of 'consulting assistant'. 
"...The 1800's? What is this? A fake ID?" I ran a hand through my rain drenched hair at subconscious tendency, only to remember the ribbon I had used to tie my hair back. I stopped, and brought my hand back to my chin, glaring at the typewritten letters as if that could scare them into changing, into something that would make any lick of sense. 
Nothing of the sort happened, and my eyes simply scanned the words over and over again. 
Jun Watanabe. Consulting assistant. June 20th 1887. 
Consulting?....Like...private investigator? Or a consultant for some business company...? Its not helpful. This Jun guy could have been a therapist for all I know.
"...The rain is letting up." I muttered, my gaze shifting to the crow, which had fallen asleep on my knee, after being patient for a considerable amount of time, although I was certain that I had lost track of it. I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing as I glanced at the cylinder strapped to the bird, and then at the ID still clutched in my hand.
"....Are you Jun's pet or something..?" I rubbed my temple, my exhaustion catching up to me again as I slumped against the wooden storefront.
"Aaah.." I rubbed my nose, feeling a sneeze incoming, but it just became a sniffle, leaving an itchy feeling in my nostrils.
 "Damn rain..." I muttered, shifting my gaze to the crow, which woke up, its small form ruffling its wet feathers.
"...Hey." I stared at the ID, and then at the cylinder strapped to the crows leg. The paper which had the threatening message was left discarded in the puddle, illegible.
I could have sworn that wasn't on its leg earlier...That alley...the red eyes...? No. Lets think about this.
I don't want to think about this. 
"Mind getting off my knee?" I wriggled my leg slightly, prompting the roosting crow to caw indignantly. I shushed it, my ears picking up on opening doors and windows, across the street, to the side, and the second story of the building in front of me. From my peripheral vision I could see a woman sliding a window open, spectating from her vantage point with a cup of what looks like tea in her hand. 
 I couldn't help feeling embarrassed, sitting in front of a store, drenched, with a crow on my knee. 
"..Off" I nudged the crow again, and it cooed, flapping its damp wings and landing a building away, on the sill of an opened shoji paneled window. It stared at me expectantly, letting out a coo as a the silhouette of a person shifted about in the second story window. The fog had cleared slightly, allowing me to discern the antique store sign which was carved into the plaster. 
Groaning as I got to my feet, I stared at the sign which said nothing of particular interest. What gave me pause was not bolstered sales prices or the blatant lie about the quality of the products, but the weight of the revolver shifted in my coat pocket. 
"...." I fingered the revolver through the damp fabric, my gaze flitting from the crow, perched on the windowsill, to the ID, clutched and damp in my hand. I grit my teeth, leaning against the store column as the crow cooed, and the silhouette within the second story window began to approach the shoji paneled entrance. 
The rain had subsided, and the fog began to lift, as if a curtain was being drawn, unveiling a town which seemed out of place, like a set taken out of a historical play.
...No way. This can't be what I'm thinking. 
Noticing movement out of the corner of my eye, I stuffed the ID into my coat pocket, glancing towards the street, which had began to stir. Figures walked about, oddly fancy umbrellas and the occasional newspaper in hand. Their kimonos were mostly a blur of colors, with some occasional pattern and the stray western dress peeking through, foreign compared to the traditional clothing of the others. They talked among themselves, and for a moment, my head swam, my sight blurring. 
White haired. Every single one of them. Every man, woman, old lady. Even the little girl that tugged at their mothers kimono, pointing at a candy stall that an old man wheeled through the streets. Even she had pure white hair, pulled back into a braid and tied with a blue ribbon. 
I chuckled to myself, rubbing my temple as I averted my gaze to the crow, which hopped off of the windowsill, flying towards me, and landing a building away, its form obscured by the fog and rain.
....Am I loosing it..? White haired. June twentieth. 1887...so 1906..? Its obviously staged isn't it. A play. Its a town in Nagano prefecture, right? Or...
I raised a hand to my throat, swallowing a lump that had begun to build.
Time travel..? No. Not that. That would be more feasible than this.
Its probably some kind of theater town. Actors. Hair dye...contacts. Yes. Its not 1906, its just their character design. Right. This Jun Watanabe ID is probably fake. The crow delivering messages is just..? A trained crow. Its a messenger, a prop. Its probably an abandoned building back there. I didn't kill that man upstairs.
This revolver isn't even mine. I mean. It's not Jun's.

I nodded to myself, tapping my finger on the column behind me as my soft laughter turned into a cackle. 

What a load of bull. 
I slapped a hand over my mouth, giving quick bows of apology at the odd looks I had prompted from the passerby's. They avoided walking too closely, some giving polite smiles before picking up the pace. An official looking man walked directly past, seeming to not notice the others silent agreement to avoid me, before walking across the street. His black suite stood out against the colorful kimonos and dresses, a fedora shielding his white swept back hair.
I stiffened, recognizing the uniform like clothing, and the golden emblem embroidered onto the shoulder, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he stopped in front of a store. I pretended to read a news paper out of a stack that an employee set out on a table, nodding to them as they walked back inside, to open shop. They gave me an odd look but I ignored it, keeping an eye on the man as he seemed to converse with that woman, who had come down from the second story, her tea still in hand. 
...A government official? A cop..? Shit.
Their conversation was indiscernible, and the man glanced at me occasionally, prompting me to feign interest in the paper. I flipped through it, my eyes scanning it for context clues, like the actors names, or any advertisements. As casually as possible, I began to walk, blending into the increasing morning traffic. 

"A new railway in Asahi...an advertisement for a ballet show in Kyoto. It's called Moon's Decent?" I paused, the hairs on my neck bristling. I glanced up from the overplayed descriptions of a theatrical group, and the flashy displays of their special guests from Russia and England, a sense of unease tugging at me as the fedora man and tea holding woman glanced in my direction, their conversation coming to a halt. You would think it would be hard to spot me, but my height said otherwise. 
No, they aren't looking at me. That guy from the inn, he didn't...report me, right? Shit. Running proves guilt...it must have. Why exactly did I think that lunatic didn't report me? 
My pace doubled, remembering those murky eyes, trying to stay nonchalant as I heard the tap of leather shoes against cobblestone, the many footsteps, from which one was discernable. My paranoia heightened it, my senses, that's why I ran. It was stupid, but I ran. Down the street, a left turn, then a right, almost slipping into a full on collision, with a pair of Brits from the look of their clothes. I gave a quick bow to the lady, a habitual way of apology, before taking a step back. 

"Watch it!" The blond man beside her snapped, my suspicions confirmed by the familiar accent. 

"Sorr-- Um, my apologies. I'm in a rush!" I switched to English, my accent snapping back into place like a curse as I swerved past them. Before I could get any further, I found myself on the ground, momentarily stunned, my arm twisted behind my back. 

"Oi! Let go!" I grunted, struggling under the weight, the leather clad grip on my wrist tightening. My face was shoved into the pavement, stopping me to identifying my assailant. 

"I suggest you shut your trap, mutt. Thievery isn't foreign to your type, I'm sure, but this a different level altogether..." The blond man from before was leaning over me, a scowl adorning his face. "Withdraw the claws. Now. Don't make this harder for yourself."

I let out a scoff, turning my head as far as I could, the weight keeping me firmly on the ground. My mind was a mess of paranoia, fear, and the sinking feeling of being caught, being helpless. 

"I didn't steal. I swear it, so please act civil." I tried to breath, pushing my panic aside as I stopped struggling. It had just occurred to me that perhaps getting searched right now wouldn't end well, not with my tattered state, and the revolver that sat snuggly in my coat pocket.

"That accent of yours...are you mocking me?" 

I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. "It's natural, should I apologize for it?"

"Oh no, please don't feel the need to. William here is on edge today...I do apologize for his...well, gruff reaction." The lady chimed in, her accent posh, but friendly enough. She gave William a firm look, to which he yielded, his grip on my wrist loosened, his weight shifting as he got off of me, but his hands were still firm on my shoulder, keeping me in place.

"Thank you for...speaking some sense, Miss" I retorted sarcastically, ignoring the hole I had just dug for myself.

"You should be grateful. If it were me, I'd have cut your hand off, and tossed it in a gutter." William growled, his grip on my shoulder becoming crushing. I clenched my jaw, glancing down at my inky black and clawed hands, flexing them, my mind in turmoil as I registered their cognition of its existence. 

"William, don't be ridiculous, that's barbaric." The lady snapped, crossing her arms. She was of equal, if not higher standing, from the look of her intricately embroidered dress that seemed straight out of a period drama. What stood out more than that however was her ash colored hair, and the faint trail of dark hair that were woven into the braided style, as if to hide it. "We needn't stir up more trouble, not with the Shogun's men roaming about." She shot a warning look at the man with the fedora, who was approaching, an polite smile on his lips.

I bristled, my first instinct being to take a step back, before I realized I couldn't. 

She said...shogun's men? Like a cop? So he's a cop. Damn it. 

"Madam, I do apologize. I will handle the situation." The official, whom I had spotted earlier, stepped forward, a bow of respect aimed at the two. His accent was thickly Japanese, but his words were clear. William let go, and the pressure on my shoulder dissipated, and for a moment, I contemplated bolting. But instead, I took a deep breath, and turned around, staring up at the official with a strained smile.

"There is nothing to handle, Sir. Just a simple misunderstanding." 

The man narrowed his eyes, a scowl twisting his lips as he took a step forward.

"Is that so?" 

"Yes, Sir. I bumped into these...lovely folk purely accidently." I kept my smile firm, my hands flicked, the claws disappearing like a misty mirage. The official did not seem to take notice. 

"Then why exactly did you run, Jun?" 

My heart sank. The uttering of that name giving me whiplash.

How does he know that name...? Why is he addressing me with it...am I...? 

"I was late to a meeting, you see." I forced a laugh, my palms clammy, as if sweating, despite the fact that it had started to rain again, a faint drizzle, the water dripping down the rim of the man's fedora, and onto his white hair. 

"Best we continue this conversation somewhere else, preferably with a roof over our heads?" The lady chimed in, giving a glance towards the sky. "William, stop glowering, lets hurry up."

"..." I grit my teeth, keeping my smile firmly in place as William muttered a 'yes ma'am'. The official gave a curt nod, conceding with the seemingly high class lady's suggestion. He then grabbed my shoulder, pulling me along, his grip unwavering.

...Bloody hells...damn it...

I couldn't help feeling a sense of dread, the feeling that I had gotten myself into something much deeper than I had anticipated. I was stupid enough to run, now I was trapped, like a mouse caught from its own desire for cheese. My captors were worse than any cat who would have snapped a poor rodents neck in half. My gut told me they could do far worse.