Shin noticed before anyone explained.
It wasn't a sentence. Nor a direct order. It was the way the adults stopped laughing.
The next morning, the village woke up at the usual time, but no one seemed truly awake. People spoke softly, even when there was no reason to. When someone laughed, it was quick, as if they had done something wrong.
Ryo left early.
He didn't say where he was going.
Hana spent the morning tidying the house without stopping. She cleaned things that were already clean, folded clothes that no one had worn. When Shin tried to help, she thanked him, but soon told him to sit.
— Stay here for a bit — she said, running a hand over his head.
Her hand lingered longer than usual.
Outside, men gathered in small groups. They weren't meetings. No one stayed in the same place for too long. Two would talk, then move away, then two others. Always in low voices.
Shin watched from the doorway.
He saw old Katsuro, who barely ever left his house, standing near the entrance to the village, staring at the trail as if he were waiting for someone. He saw a woman cry quickly, her face turned toward the wall, while another pretended not to notice.
When he tried to go to his friends, no one wanted to play.
— Not today — they said. — Later.
"Later" never came.
In the afternoon, Ryo returned.
His face looked normal. His way of walking too. But he didn't sit down.
— Hana — he called. — I need to talk to you.
They went into the room and closed the door.
This time, Shin didn't try to listen. He stood still, staring at the floor, feeling his stomach tighten without knowing why.
When they came out, Hana was pale.
— What is it? — Shin asked.
She smiled. A short smile that didn't reach her eyes.
— Nothing you need to worry about.
She said it as if she were trying to convince herself.
That night, more people slept with their doors locked. Some houses kept lanterns lit late. Shin heard footsteps on the street after he was already lying down. Footsteps that went back and forth, slow, like someone patrolling without wanting to draw attention.
He pulled the blanket up to his chin.
He thought about asking his father something. He didn't know what.
The fear wasn't of anything specific. It was just a weight, as if the air were thicker. As if everyone were waiting for a sound that hadn't come yet.
Before falling asleep, he heard Ryo speak softly to Hana:
— If it happens… you do what we agreed on.
Hana didn't answer right away.
— I know — she said later.
Shin closed his eyes.
For the first time, he wished he would wake up older.