Scene 1 — Morning Silence
Sendai was bright again. Too bright.
The kind of sunlight that made puddles glare and faces look sharper.
Kenta left early.
No breakfast, no radio, just the hum of tires and the sound of his own name echoing in other people's mouths.
He'd been trying to ignore it for weeks — the stares, the gossip, the cameras outside Harbor Noodles.
But now, even silence felt like someone watching.
He parked the van at the docks and stepped out, scanning the alley where the GR86 had been keyed.
Salt in the air, rust on every surface.
No one around — until he noticed a small group by a vending machine.
They were young. Jackets too clean.
One looked up and smiled.
Man: "You're late."
Kenta: "For what?"
Man: "Whatever's coming next."
The man's grin didn't reach his eyes.
Scene 2 — The Garage
The local port garage smelled of gasoline and cigarette ash.
Kenta asked about a name he'd heard whispered — someone who might've seen the vandal.
The mechanics stopped working when he spoke.
Kenta: "I'm looking for whoever touched the white coupe."
Mechanic: "Lot of white cars in Sendai."
Kenta: "This one's mine."
They looked at each other, unreadable.
One of them pointed to a door at the back.
Mechanic: "Try the office. Guy who runs the place keeps track of… incidents."
The "office" was just a small storage room with a single light bulb and an open window.
No one inside.
On the desk — an envelope.
Kenta hesitated, then opened it.
Inside: a single photo of the GR86 parked outside Harbor Noodles.
Same angle as before. Same handwriting on the back.
"Keep it parked. Or keep running."
Scene 3 — The Call
His phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Voice: "You don't know me, but you're driving a problem."
Kenta: "Who is this?"
Voice: "Someone cleaning up old business.
Tell your father the docks are off-limits again."
Click. Silence.
He stood there a long moment, staring at the gray water through the window.
The city wasn't threatening him directly — it was reminding him.
Every shadow had a memory.
Scene 4 — The Investigation
By afternoon, a detective came to the shop.
Polite, same coat, same tone as last time.
Teo let him in but said nothing.
Detective: "We've had some incidents near the port.
A few cars burned, some fights. Your son's name came up."
Teo: "Names come up when people stop using their own."
Detective: "Then maybe he should stay quiet longer."
Kaiya cut in before Teo's silence turned sharp.
Kaiya: "He delivers noodles. That's all."
The detective smiled.
Detective: "That's what everyone says — right before the lights go out."
He left his card again.
Scene 5 — The Blackout
That night, Kenta took the GR86 out to "clear his head."
No music, no destination.
Only fog and sodium streetlight.
Halfway through the industrial district, the entire block went dark.
Streetlights flickered, died.
Engines echoed from somewhere he couldn't see.
Then — a sound.
Something metallic hitting pavement.
He braked.
A figure stumbled out from an alley — one of the men who'd confronted him days ago.
Face bloodied, holding his side.
Man (hoarse): "They're not yours anymore."
Before Kenta could respond, the man dropped something — a folded piece of paper — and ran.
Kenta picked it up.
Under the faint glow of his dashboard, he read the words scrawled in red ink:
"The Harbor remembers its own."
Scene 6 — The Return
When he got home, Teo was asleep in the chair by the window.
Kaiya was writing notes for the next day's menu.
Kaiya: "You were gone long."
Kenta: "Just clearing my head."
Kaiya: "Did it work?"
Kenta: "Not really."
He tucked the paper into his jacket before she saw it.
Then he sat down beside her, pretending to read the menu draft.
For a moment, the house felt safe again.
Steam from the kitchen curled through the air, warm and calm.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Dark.
Outside, a police siren wailed somewhere distant — then closer.
Kenta didn't move.
He just whispered under his breath,
"It's starting again, isn't it?"
No one answered.
End of Episode 14 — "The Day the Lights Went Out."