He zipped it shut, bowed a quick thank you, and ran. Inside the dimly lit offices of Mirai Productions , Kaito slid into his chair just as the clock hit 9:01. His boss, a volcanic man named Director Ono, glared at him from across the room. But Kaito just smiled. He was used to the glares. What he wasn’t used to was the small, folded note now tucked under his keyboard.
Behind her, the monitor flickered back on. The rabbit was smiling. chakku! tsuiteru!!
He turned. A woman in a neon-yellow vest was pointing at his backpack. He looked down. The zipper— chakku in that weird borrowed-English way—was wide open. His wallet, a crumpled manga volume, and a half-eaten onigiri were all visible to the world. He zipped it shut, bowed a quick thank you, and ran
“So,” he said, zipping the pocket shut. “How do we fight a ghost puppet?” But Kaito just smiled
The rabbit’s foot twitched.