Six Hours After the Stabbing the Streets of Ankihabra Were Filled With Young Men Again

From the top of the Softmap building

The shiny black droplets

Sprinkle like oil

The surface tension breaks

And the viscous liquids merge

The black-haired young men come flowing slowly

In search of otaku goods and anime

The river formed by their bodies' movement

Only able to obey the natural laws:

That life goes on

And people so rarely do the right thing.