Ito Sushi House

They arrived after a fifteen-minute drive, pulling up in front of a shabby apartment building. The car came to a stop in an empty, desolate parking lot. 

The area was eerily quiet, save for the occasional distant bark of a dog. 

Haruto stepped out of the car, stretching briefly before his gaze swept over the building. Paint peeled off the walls, and a few windows were boarded up. 

It was clear this place had seen better days. 

The three of them made their way toward the entrance. Haruto wrinkled his nose as they climbed the creaky stairs, the metal handrail rough with rust and grime. 

The structure groaned under their weight, each step echoing ominously. Haruto clapped his hands together after touching the railing, brushing off invisible dirt. 

"Are you sure this is the place?" he asked, his tone skeptical as his nostrils flared in disgust. 

"Old Futto still lives here?" Enji chimed in, his brow arched in curiosity.