“It’s all gone! All of it!” A chest that had once been stocked to the brim with fine clothes, comfort items and other bits of memorabilia wheezed dust into the face of a blue-eyed blonde boy. He was barely a teenager, yet he had all the fire of one packed into a lean, sturdy frame. His peach skin seemed a sickly shade of white there in the dim light of an old Japanese dwelling, and his bright, vibrant long hair paled just the same as his aghast expression. In this crusty dump where not even the rats wanted to tread, just about everything that took root inside would look bleak and disheartened. Only within this rickety chest could the boy be comforted with his creature comforts, and yet looking into it now, all that greeted him was a cold, consuming emptiness. “My clothes, my watch, my magazines… There’s not even a pen and paper! This old fogey’s so deep in the dark ages that he doesn’t even want me to keep a diary!” The boy shut the chest with a huff and scuttled over to a short and