The road to Shinonome Pass wound like a scar through the mountains—long, narrow, and filled with silence.
The kind of silence that pressed on the chest, where even the hum of the truck engine sounded too loud.
Riku kept both hands on the wheel. The diesel rattled beneath his grip, vibrating through his arms. His eyes flicked between the cracked road and the forest shadows crawling on either side. Every bend looked the same—gray bark, black soil, the remains of what used to be Japan's countryside. Somewhere deep in the woods, a crow screamed, sharp and distant.
Behind him, the others sat in near-total quiet.
Hana was sketching in a small notebook, her pencil whispering over paper. Emi leaned against the window, eyelids heavy. Ken stared at the floor, holding the strap of his pack tightly, as if afraid someone might take it.
Ichika broke the silence first. "You ever notice how every place we go smells like the end of the world?"
Suzune shot her a look. "That's because it is."
