Windbreaker

挨拶

The tinkling of wind chimes on the storefronts was the first thing you heard when you crossed the border into the neighborhood. It was a bright, almost fragile sound that stood in stark contrast to the heavy graffiti tags and scarred concrete walls of the outskirts. But here, under the protection of the Bofurin, the colorful lettering on the walls didn’t look like criminals’ turf marks, but rather like a promise. The atmosphere in the narrow alleys was thick and lively.