Scene 1 — Vanished
Ryo waited by the noodle shop long after closing.
The street had gone quiet, rain pushing thin rivers down the curb.
Kenta's delivery route should've brought him back an hour ago.
The GPS pinged once — then stopped near the port.
Ryo's call went unanswered.
By midnight, the only sound left was the soft clink of Harbor Noodles' wind chime.
Inside, Teo stood by the sink, rinsing bowls one by one.
Kaiya's voice came from the kitchen.
Kaiya: "He'll come back."
Teo: "He knows how."
But his hand had stopped moving.
Scene 2 — The Warehouse
When Kenta came to, his wrists weren't bound.
He was sitting in a chair under a broken skylight, the smell of salt and rust in the air.
Rain tapped on sheet metal.
A group of men sat around a long table.
They weren't loud — just watching.
Suits half-buttoned, hair gray, eyes clear.
The kind of quiet that comes from age and danger.
Leader: "You drive the white car."
Kenta: "Sometimes."
Leader: "You know whose it was?"
Kenta: "Didn't ask."
That answer drew a low chuckle from one corner of the room.
The leader leaned forward, elbows on knees.
Leader: "You're not afraid of much, huh?"
Kenta: "I'm afraid of the wrong people."
A pause. Then laughter again, brief and dry.
Leader: "You're smart. Careful. But not careful enough."
He slid a photograph across the floor — a faded image of the GR86 at the old docks, 2049.
Same plate. Same car. Different decade.
Leader: "This car doesn't exist unless someone wants it to."
Kenta: "Maybe it wants to."
A few of the men shifted uneasily.
His tone was calm, almost bored — like he didn't understand how close he was to the edge.
Scene 3 — The Test
They asked questions for hours — about deliveries, the noodle shop, the van, the night at Kurage.
Kenta gave nothing but plain truth.
The less he tried to protect himself, the more it sounded like he was hiding something.
Second Man: "Who told you to use the mountain?"
Kenta: "Google Maps."
A few laughed again.
Not because it was funny — but because he didn't flinch.
Then one man noticed the scar.
A faint burn along Kenta's wrist, hooked like a fish spine.
Third Man: "Where'd you get that?"
Kenta: "Welding torch. Fixing the car."
Leader: "You sure about that?"
Kenta: "Not really."
The leader stood. Walked around him once.
Stopped behind his chair.
Leader: "You remind me of someone."
Kenta: "Hope he's doing better than me."
That earned silence.
Heavy, strange, uncertain.
Scene 4 — The Departure
Hours later, they led him outside.
The rain had stopped, but the ground still glistened.
The leader handed back his phone.
Leader: "You didn't see us. We didn't see you."
Kenta: "Deal."
Leader: "Tell the man at the harbor—"
He stopped mid-sentence, searching Kenta's face.
Leader: "Tell him the Ring still breathes."
The words didn't make sense, but the tone did.
Respect. Warning. History.
They drove him back in silence.
No threats. No instructions.
Just a quiet kind of reverence he didn't understand.
Scene 5 — Home
When the car stopped outside Harbor Noodles, dawn was breaking.
Steam curled from the vents.
Teo stood under the awning, towel slung over his shoulder.
Kenta stepped out, shoes wet.
The car waited long enough for Teo to look up.
The men inside bowed — once, sharply — then drove off.
Teo: "You walked?"
Kenta: "Got a ride."
Teo: "Good."
That was all.
They went inside without another word.
Kaiya watched them from the kitchen doorway, sensing something neither would say.
For the first time, she realized there were entire years in her husband's life she'd never even seen the outline of.
Scene 6 — The Light
Kenta sat by the window after closing.
The city outside was quiet again.
He turned the note over in his pocket, unfolded it one last time.
Every road leads back home.
He looked toward Teo — asleep in the chair, hand resting over his chest like a statue carved from old discipline.
Kenta whispered, mostly to himself:
"I think I found yours."
Outside, the streetlights flickered once, twice — then steadied, painting the wet road gold.
End of Episode 10 — "Old Roads, New Shadows."