The rain hadn't stopped for days.
Gray clouds hung over the ruins of Nagano like a heavy blanket, drowning the sun and swallowing every sound except the endless patter of water against broken glass. The city was gone — reduced to husks of buildings, rusted cars, and the hollow silence of a country that no longer breathed.
And in the middle of it all stood an old FamilyMart, its faded green-and-white sign flickering weakly in the drizzle.
That was home now.
Three months had passed since the refinery burned, since the thing beneath the earth screamed and everything around it turned to ash. Riku hadn't dreamed properly since.
