In mid-July, western Tokyo, Mount Mitou, Okutama.
At the foot of the mountain, Kitasan Black jumped off the bus, and a wave of heat and blinding sunlight immediately struck her face. Squinting, she looked the station before her up and down.
The wooden station sign looked rather old, with the paint peeling from its edges.
The words "Mount Mitou Trailhead Station" were still fairly clear, and the polished grain showed that it was regularly maintained.
There were not many people in the station, yet it was lively, with nearly everyone looking like they were there for sightseeing.
The large and small bags the tourists carried were not ordinary travel bags. Some were as wide as half a door, while others were nearly tall enough to reach the ceiling, seemingly packed with special equipment.
Directly behind the station, where the two nearest mountains intersected, was a gap like one cleaved open by a giant axe. The exposed rock walls showed blue-gray textures, while clouds and mist curled around the peaks.
Further down the ridge, a winding mountain road made a sharp turn and rose steeply about a hundred meters away. The midsummer sun baked the asphalt into distorted mirages, making it seem as though one's feet would melt upon stepping onto it.
Cicadas sang in waves in the distance, while the scents of pine resin and vegetation drifted faintly through the air alongside the sour tang of rotting fruit and moss.
"Strange, this is definitely the place. Where's Trainer...?"
Muttering in confusion, Kitasan Black felt around in her pocket and took out her phone.
She had just finished typing, "Trainer, I'm here," when a call came in.
A delighted expression had just appeared on her face, but when she saw the caller ID, annoyance and amusement crept across her cheeks.
"Hello,