Day thirty-one.
Shuo was woken by the quiet.
It wasn't that there was no sound at all. The village's rhythm had quietly slowed.
There was less hammering, lighter footsteps, and even the wind had grown leisurely.
He lay still, staring at the ceiling.
That crack was still there, running diagonally overhead.
After looking at it for three seconds, he turned his head.
The bedding on the opposite bed was neatly folded, and the space by the window was empty.
He sat up, got out of bed, and washed up.
Just as he came out, Sai pushed the door open, carrying two paper bags.
"More people at the cafeteria?" Shuo asked.
"Yeah. Reconstruction's almost finished."
Shuo took one, opened it, and found plum rice balls.
He took a bite, squinted at the sourness, and chewed slowly.
Sai sat opposite him, eating salmon rice balls.
They finished eating quietly, without another word.
They went downstairs.
The streets really were different.
The rubble had been cleared, the damage repaired, and new buildings were slowly going up.
The people were the same, but their expressions were much more relaxed, no longer rushing around in that earlier panic.
Shuo stood downstairs and watched for a while.
Lightspeed Thinking ran automatically: thirty-seven people passed every minute, twenty carrying tools, ten moving materials, and seven wandering around. All their heartbeats were steady.
He casually tossed that information aside.
"Where to?" Sai asked.
Shuo thought for a moment. "The hospital."
"To see Minato?"
"Yeah."
The two headed for the hospital.
A long line stretched outside the hospital, with the injured and their families crowded together.
Shuo didn't join the line. He walked straight inside.
Someone at the entrance was about to stop him, but after getting a clear look at his face, silently held their tongue.
The story