2022-10-01 - Disaster Recovery 1

Disaster Recovery 1
Summary: The Battle Fantasia ninth anniversary plot. A group of volunteers go to the aid of Sanbu Village, which was obliterated by a winter storm. There, they're recruited to help gather evidence and muster support for rebuilding the village, because the villagers have defied the resettlement order and seem determined to stay. But is that really such a good idea? And is that really what is going on/
Who: Hanae Fujioka, Naru Osaka, Takumi Tokiha, Momo Inoue, Gurio Umino, Chie Harada, Yuki Okazaki, Shiho and Rina GM: Pink Moon Stick
Where: Sanbu Village, Japan
OOC - IC Date: 10/1/2022 - 01/16/16

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.
<SoundTracker> Breaking News Music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6pjyF4ydE8

It was the kind of storm that made the news more than once. First on approach; then when it hit; then in the aftermath.

But, unusually even for a major winter storm, there was a fourth breaking news announcement. That's because the mudslide, called a 'dirt tsunami' both sensationally and worrisomely-accurately by a reporter who was severely reprimanded by his boss afterwards, occurred about twenty-four hours after the storm had gone.

Things had been bad enough in Sanbu before that. The storm surge had flooded all the lower-lying buildings along the beach; the wind had felled a few trees, ripped up a few rooftops. But its population was used to the surge and the wind, and had built, accordingly, into the sheltered hills above the water.

Hills that might as well no longer even exist.

The reason that reporter got excited is that, by pure happenstance, a helicopter that had been searching the coastline for lost boats was flying towards the village when the mudslide happened. An onboard cameraman was able to film everything. It's the kind of footage that will be replayed forever. The way the ground buckled. The way everything... slid. The magnitude of it all. It's a hard thing to watch, even though it was distant enough to not be able to make out any of the victims. But then, that's part of what makes it hard; the great big world isn't supposed to MOVE like that. Like it's a liquid. Like it's alive.

The village of Sanbu is dead, and it was killed on live TV.

There's really no question of rebuilding. It's been rebuilt a dozen times, like most small coastal towns, but that's because there was enough left to save. Good bones, as it were. But those bones turned to sludge and the sludge wiped out essentially all of the houses, roiled away the main power transformer, half-buried the little but highly modernized sewage treatment plant that the townspeople were so proud of; right on the sea, some places might have abdicated such a meticulous job of that responsibility, but not Sanbu. Sanbu loved its marine neighbors much too much to ever let anything of theirs pollute their home.

It's pretty much all just... gone.

The talking heads remembered Sanbu for its artisanal seaweed; for its thriving community of eccentric artists; for that one time, in the 1964 Summer Olympics, that it hosted the Sailing competition. Before the storm nobody knew that Germany won Gold in that event, but now everyone does. The pundits lamented the tragedy of lives lost, but also lauded the lives saved; not just saved by heroism during and immediately after the disaster, but saved in general, saved by the enormous efficiency and excellence of Japanese crisis management bureaucracy. The survivors would be relocated; rehoused; retrained in new jobs; the children, reschooled.

Sanbu would not live on, but its remaining people would.

But then there was a FIFTH news story. This one was shorter than the previous segments, and more subdued. Apparently, it was said, in increasingly paternalistic and incredulous tones, the villagers of Sanbu were refusing to move on. After repeated failures to evacuate, the provinical government had essentially given up.

Some weeks later, volunteer organizations are filling the gap. One such organization, Angel Aid, is closely affiliated with the Sister Schools, probably because half their board of directors are Ohtori Academy (and some Infinity Institute) parents. There's always a need for more bodies to help make deliveries, especially when much of what's being delivered is fresh water: it's heavy. But there's also a certain interest in the different sort of learning experience this sort of thing provides. Compassion, definitely. A hope that the fresh faces of some kids and their chaperones might bring solace to the villagers' grief. And also, from certain quarters, a quiet openness to exposing the students to the aftermath of tragedy -- now that things are safe -- to see what resolve it might inspire in them for their own futures.

Some people signed up without bribery, but extra credit was offered to help fill out the ranks. There are A LOT of water jugs to carry.

NOW

There is a bus for people and a truck for supplies, and during the two hour ride out of Tokyo and down the coast, the little convoy becomes separated.

The bus is full enough to not feel anemic of volunteers, but empty enough that seating is freestyle and organic; chatting clusters spring up here and there to pass the time, while some others have the space to curl up next to a window and stare at their phone. Though, much to the horror of some, reception starts getting spotty once the city is firmly in the rear view mirror.

It is a dismal January day; gray and dim; overcast and gloomy. This was true back at Infinity (where the bus loaded, as it was the closest to the correct edge of the city to depart from) but it becomes more true as the ride goes on. The bus driver, a middle-aged man in a company uniform, slows the pace to a crawl for the final few miles, while muttering an increasingly intense, almost ritualistic chant under his breath:

"Fog... stupid fog... I hate coast drives... fog... stupid fog..."

It is with a sweat-slick brow and considerable relief that he shudders the bus to a stop at its final destination. The doors (two sets; one in front, one in the middle) squeak open.

"Sanbu," he calls, unnecessarily, since this is a charter and they didn't stop anywhere else. "Everybody off."

The bus itself adds a little more detritus to the mist as it gushes a healthy bit of exhaust from itself and rumbles into quiescence. There's a heaviness to the moisture-filled air, though, that overwhelms even the silence created by the absence of the engine. This silence is a presence. It tastes mostly of salt and smells mostly of brine and feels, mostly, of clam(miness). This is pea-soup stuff, which coils around everything that enters it in a moist embrace. Whenever someone takes a step, they leave a little swirl of wake. Someone with an artistic mind might find beauty in those undulations; anyone with a claustrophobic mind is wondering how the bus driver even knew that he was... wherever they are. Visibility is zero. They could still be in Tokyo, if not for the quiet (as, even at its foggiest, there are more people in a Tokyo intersection than ever lived in the village of Sanbu).

If the water truck made it here first, it isn't obvious. Probably the bus is first, though; all the caution the bus driver used to get around those twists and turns near the end, where the road is barely road anymore, and even less road than it was a month ago -- surely that would be doubled for a big heavy truck.

There is a moment in which one might wonder how long they'll be waiting before they can get started, and if maybe it might be more pleasant to do so back on the bus. A lonely, chilly moment where nothing happens at all.

And then the welcoming committee arrives!

"Good afternoon!" says the woman, her smile even brighter than her flashlight. For all of its battery wattage (the first hint of power in this place), it wasn't easily seen through the fog until she was practically right on top of the group. Up close and personal, she is long of leg, short of hair, sturdily built, and perhaps twenty-five; young enough to be energetic, old enough to need a job.

She has a job: OFFICIAL SANBU WELCOMING COMMITTEE is right there embroidered on her armband, tied brightly at her left shoulder.

"Welcome to Sanbu Village!" she declares with camp counselor energy, perhaps made a bit moreso due to the youth of her audience. "My name is Hina Tanaka, and I've come to take you to the hotel! We've been expecting you, and now here you are. Perfect timing; you can drop off your stuff and have lunch before you go back out. Our ushio-jiru," clear clam soup, "Is world famous, you know! And we're having a special, since it's the off-season, a free hot mug for all visitors. Please, come right this way!"

<Pose Tracker> Hanae Fujioka [Infinity Institute (11)] has posed.

On the bus, Hanae doesn't have to work hard to make friends and find someone to talk to. She's used to trips, she's used to people, and she's bright and energetic. The swim club at Infinity counts her as a member, and she's the sort of cool that seems effortless, always willing to see the next rise.

How did she ever become friends with the much less active Yumi?

She doesn't even look nervous about the driver's chant!

But Sanbu s here, and Hanae, a bleached-blonde girl with brown eyes and an athletic build, steps off the bus, and loks around at the others. "...Cold," she comments thoughtfully, because she's the type to fill empty space--and then--ah!

"Thanks!" Hanae says. "It's nice to meet you!" There's too many of them to all introduce themselves, so Hane doesn't, but she says, "That sounds great, too!"

She'll follow along.

<Pose Tracker> Naru Osaka [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

A girl with wavy red hair, sporting an equally red bow, a dark green dress that frames a long sleeve yellow blouse, and a green jacket stares out the window with a sigh, arms crossed on the tiny edge of the window, chin resting upon those arms.

This is Naru Osaka, very normal first year high schooler at Juuban. Long time friend to the one and only Usagi Tsukino aka Pretty Guardian of Love and Justice Sailor Moon, except (wink) she doesn't realize this.

"What a dismal day. I wish I really didn't need the extra credit." She mumbles to herself, sighing as she draws herself ponderously off the rim of the window and sideeyes her boyfriend allowing a smile like this trip isn't a total loss, "At least we'll get some time together, hmm Umino?"

Whether it's true love or altruism, her boyfriend is here with her, he sure doesn't need the extra credit.

Cut to the high schooler sitting beside her - her boyfriend, one Gurio Umino.

The pair together make up an actually normal high school couple! Only at Juuban could this happen!

Upon arrival, the fog kind of unnerves her, so she grabs his hand, "Uh, so we don't get lost." She makes excuses, as she doesn't want to indicate she finds this place a bit spooky.

When the welcoming committee arrives, she squeezes his hand a bit tighter then... let's go when she realizes they are not in fact some spectres in the fog.

"Well. The hospitality doesn't sound bad." She whispers his way.

<Pose Tracker> Takumi Tokiha [Ohtori Academy (12)] has posed.

A real man steps up to help people in need, apparently. And of all the 'lessons' on manliness, that's the one that stuck today.

Takumi Tokiha is a relatively quiet young man. A middle-schooler at Ohtori, he's foregone the cream-coloured uniform in favour of a coat better suited to cold weather and physical labour. Yellow for visibility, whether or not that clashes with his reddish-brown hair. He even brought his own little rucksack, complete with some snacks and water for the day - the sign of either an experienced volunteer or one trying too hard to prove they can be independent.

For much of the bus ride, he was studying a book of English phrases, occasionally sounding out a piece of vocabulary to himself. He glanced out the window only a handful of times, only to shiver in response - foggy days don't sit well with him. He did his best to be friendly, though, especially to Chie Harada - a familiar face, at least.

But he's here. Not for the extra credit, necessarily - though that's admittedly a nice incentive for anyone working on high school applications - but because it's a good thing to do. And, perhaps, because his heart hurts for those who have lost so much in a tragic flood or mudslide...

The bus pulls in just as his watch beeps. Before even getting up, he pulls a box from a pocket, takes a couple of pills with a swallow of water, and stows everything before standing up. He makes sure everything is in order, and bows to the bus driver on his way out. Politeness, as befits a 'real man'. Caution, perhaps. Diligence, so no one will have to worry about him.

Even with all that preparation, though, the exuberance of the welcoming committee catches him off guard. Is...is this really appropriate for people helping out with a tragedy?

"It's, er, thank you for the welcome! We..." Were they supposed to expect a hotel? In a disaster relief zone? He might have questioned it more, but that ever-so-thick fog must be cold, as he shivers from the chill. He shouldn't need the help, not if he's supposed to be here to help, but...

"...a hot mug of soup sounds really good, thank you."

<Pose Tracker> Momo Inoue [Juuban Public School (9)] has posed.

What brought Momo Inoue to Sanbu's rescue relief efforts? Was it the goodness of her own heart? Did her daughter Fumiko pressure her into it? Did she think she would get on television, or mingle with humanitarians?

The latter was definitely a possibility with how she was dressed up. Momo sat on the bus in a black dress with black wedge heels, her black hair done up in a bun. Her white purse slung across her right shoulder stood out among the darkness of her outfit.

Despite her formal, well-dressed, cool-seeming appearance, one might catch occasional slips of her expression into nervousness. She glanced around the bus for any unoccupied adults to converse with. "So..." she 'muses' to 'herself,' "I wonder what will happen to all those poor, stubborn - understandably so - people. I sure hope I can do something to help."

Momo soon regretted her choice of wardrobe. She shivered, clutching her purse close to herself as she tried to hug herself warm. The welcoming committee's energy doesn't do much for her either, as she rolled her eyes - until the mention of ushio-jiru. She gave the biggest, friendliest grin she could muster. "That is wonderful! Thank you very much for your kindness and hospitality, even in the face of such a crisis."

<Pose Tracker> Gurio Umino [Ohtori Academy (10)] has posed.

GURIO UMINO adjusts the enormously lensed glasses that glitter in most lighting conditions in a vaguely spiralloid pattern. "Heh," he answers Naru. "Yeah!"

Gurio is in his civilian wear today. In his case this involves slacks, a pair of hiking boots, and a zipped-up drab-green Uniqlo-grade puffy jacket. The jacket has been decorated with several patches which *could* be taken as a sign of some kind of military affiliation if you did not look close and realize, no, these are unit insignia from cartoons.

"I'd say anywhere is brighter with you there, Naru," he continues, even as he adjusts his specs and peers out the window. "I have to say this is some heavy weather, though. You know, fog like this isn't going to be rare along the coast, and everything with the landslide... it's going to upset the water situation, and that's before even... ehhh, it's hard to explain!!"

His hand is taken. His cheeks burn red. For Gurio, the enigmatic fog seems wonderful, not menacing - even as someone comes out of the darkness and the mist, JUST as he answers her quietly, "She's holding up really well, huh. Maybe there's a hotel that dodged everything..."

"U-uhm thank you very much!!" Gurio declaims, reaching up to rub behind his head with his free hand. "This is some weather, huh!"

<Pose Tracker> Chie Harada [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.

Chie Harada, in her twelfth year, is one of the PREMIER gossip hubs of Ohtori Academy -- she knows everything that's happening, frequently just about as soon as it happens. Her phone contact list is longer than the ancient scrolls, and about as full of secrets. She is astoundingly good at being in the know, and more than one person has wondered if she, herself, is headed for a bright future in journalism.

Aoi Senou is a touch younger -- which makes her the younger kouhai to Chie's senpai -- but still in high school beside Chie. She's a little boy-crazy, but in a low-key, quirky way more than an overbearing, eye-rolling way. (Some people have gone so far as to call it 'performative'.) Where Chie is always chasing juicy facts, it's Aoi who's usually attending to the heart of the situation -- she worries about people easily.

The two of them are basically inseperable, always talking about superheroine movies and music and fun stuff to do around the city and gossip and, of course, the news, which is really just mature gossip, if you think about it. Chie has grey hair down to her neck, with glasses and light brown eyes, while Aoi has long brown hair and light blue eyes, which means they even physically match.

It was no wonder that when Angel Aid asked for volunteers, Chie put her hand up, which made Aoi put her hand up too.

Being on the ground floor is the best way to get the goss!

Chie sighs, though, as her other eternal companion -- her phone -- complains of a lost signal. She's got a long-sleeved white shirt on, the last button undone and collar all skewed, and long black slacks; a dark jacket is folded in her lap. "Geez, we must be pretty far out already..."

"It's okay," Aoi assures her, all dressed up in a pleasant dusty-red dress, with leggings to ward away the cold and a cardigan still wrapped about her arms. "I'm sure we're almost there. Though, would it really be so bad if it took a little longer?" She adds, teasing, to the boy nearby. "Takumi-kun, you're going to get all your homework done before we even get there!"

Chie isn't sure that's his homework, but anyway.

Once they pile out, Chie and Aoi wave, brightly, to their OFFICIAL GREETER -- staying close to each other, and, conspiciously, to Takumi, to make sure they don't lose anyone in the crowd. "Nice to meet you," Chie responds, while Aoi chimes in with: "Thank you!!"

<Pose Tracker> Yuki Okazaki [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

Yuki Okazaki may be recognizable to any Ohtori students gathered here, or any students interested in dance generally, as she's one of the newest hires at Ohtori to teach dance. She started a couple of months ago, the same time that her daughter, Kyouka Okazaki, started at Juuban. The difference between them, for anyone who might see them side-by-side, is a bit night-and-day, normally. Kyouka is a bit rough-and-tumble, while Yuki carries herself with more elegance, though they do share a certain similarity in the way they approach their various physical endeavors. She jumped at the opportunity to chaperone this trip when it was offered (as did her daughter to participate, who's in a separate group.)

Yuki herself is dressed down from her normal teacher attire into clothing better for working in. Her long black hair is tied back into a bun, and she's wearing boots, jeans, an old but warm sweater, her winter coat, and fingerless gloves--all the better for holding onto the clipboard she's carrying. She's also got a small backpack with a few supplies and necessities that might arise in the weather they'll be dealing with, like a flashlight.

At Infinity she was busy coralling the students for headcounts, making sure she knew who was where, but seems content to let them do as they will on the long bus ride, sitting at the front. She raises an eyebrow at the bus driver's chant, but doesn't say much of it. But as soon as they stop and the doors open she's switching back into teacher mode.

"Okay kids, don't wander off too far. If you haven't found a partner I suggest you do so, for your own safety. And remember, you're here to provide relief. Please take this seriously. I know some of you are just here for the extra credit, but do remember that you're also providing relief."

She steps off the bus and nods to Hina Tanaka when she approaches and introduces herself. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Tanaka-san. My name is Yuki Okazaki, I'm here from Ohtori to help supervise the kids. Thank you very much for your generous hospitality."

She's here for business, but... she is interested in trying that soup.

<Pose Tracker> Shiho and Rina [Juuban Public School (11)] has posed.

Shiho Kubota, student of the respectable public Juuban High School, has a philosophy of saying 'yes' to opportunities. Getting to put this on her college application does appeal to her ("If my dad's gonna have to find out I got into a film school, at least it better be a good one"), but getting to experience it is the real deal. And as they drive through dense mist, through mountains she has never seen before, Shiho is alert, putting her full attention to her day. That's right, she's here as an observer of life.

"Whew, observe these two lovebirds," Shiho nudged her best friend Rina, leering at Umino and Naru. Rina had a head on her heightwise, and that head had long brown hair, as opposed to Rina's ruddy bowl cut. "Pretty shameless to be flirting on the way to an aid trip."

"Speaking of shameless, is that your camcorder bag you have there?" Rina pointed out drily. But she still made use of her height to peer over at Gurio and Naru. "Can't say I saw that one coming..."

"Maybe freckled girls go for nerds, hm hm hm?" Shiho teased her freckled friend.

"Maybe everybody goes for freckled girls," Rina took on airs gamely.

-=-=-

As they get off the bus, Shiho spots Aoi and Chie for the first time. "Darn darn darn, it's Harada and Senou," she greets them to their face, though her words make it sound like a private aside to Rina. "They're like the Ohtori version of us. One of us has to go home now.

Rina knows a bit when she sees one, and does not intentionally play along. "They're not like us at all, other than being girls and friends..."

"Sure sure sure, school paper vibe... we're more indie, right?"

Rina can't truly resist. "A little more jazzy."

"Cooler."

"Way less cool," Rina sighs apologetically at the two. "More like... messier."

"Off-brand," Shiho agrees for whatever reason.

"Yeah. Our hair is worse."

"Like a Uniqlo Harada and Senou."

"Glad we figured this out," Rina stops her. "Nice to see you two. Let us know if you need help."

Shiho seems too self-satisfied as they walk away off to the side of the group to let the others off the bus, so Rina steers into her a little, forcing the shorter girl to scamper out of the way for a few steps. "Gonna be that kind of day?" she threatens.

"You never know what kind of day it will be," Shiho declares philosophically.

There is a long moment. Shiho is humming to herself as she checks her camcorder bag, but Rina looks around. Is anyone coming? This place is a little...

Whew. Sanbu Welcoming Committee to the rescue.

They stand dutifully by as they listen to the cheerful Hina Tanaka. She reminds Rina a bit of Shiho, but she does not have the heart to comment on it as her eyes wander. It's a little cold. Something hot sounds good.

"Aren't we here to help them?" Rina asks the group quietly.

"They don't want to let anything get them down, is all," Shiho declares.

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.
<SoundTracker> Above Stoneship - Myst Soundtrack - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTruv9DbnrE

"Nice to meet you all! You're very kind to say so, ma'am, we pride ourselves on our hospitality here in Sanbu, not just on our soup..." That was to Momo and Yuki at once, somehow.

Hina has a border collie's enthusiasm for herding, and a somewhat doggish good-natured friendliness to match. Most importantly, she seems to know where she's going in all this soup, and can walk with intention rather than stumbling about trying not to bump into anything.

The batteries in her flashlight must be dying. The beam flickers occasionally, and every time it does, it is missed; without it, it's difficult to even see the whole group at once, let alone anything else. With it, at least the nearest mist is shining yellow instead of dull black. She carries it like an extension of her arm, and whenever the light starts to fail, she gives it a good firm shake until it comes back.

Fortunately, it always does.

The world, which always feels small in a village like this, is feeling smaller all the time; there comes the niggling possibility at the back of the neck that nothing at all might even exist beyond the boundaries of the tour guide's unreliable illumination.

"Terrible weather," she acknowledges wryly, both to reality in general and Gurio in particular. "Normally I'd be pointing out the sights on the way down to the hotel, but there's nothing to see..."

Her footsteps slow to half-steps, then stop for a second. She stares into the murk ahead of them for a quiet moment that the more empathetic of the group may associate with agony, with grief. Then she lifts her chin and continues on, both literally and verbally.

"...today. Nothing to see today."

A few-minute walk takes the group from fog point A to fog point B, but there is something different about their destination; a sense of vastness, of open space. Softly, what should be beneath a normal quiet, but is instead above the oppressive silence that the fog creates, the ocean can be heard kissing the shore. The first time it's confusing, but a few seconds later, when the next kiss comes, and the next, and the next, it becomes normal. Understood. The life and death of each wave, even if they're not easily seen beyond the murk, cycle on.

"...anyway, here we are..."

The road, which was always little more than gravel, yields to a wooden boardwalk; "Careful where you step," cautions Hina, and rightly so, because many planks are missing. Ripped away by the wind, surely. The ground beneath is more rock than sand. "Once we have some fresh lumber we'll be fixing that..."

She leads them right up to what turns out to be the edge of the world. Here the fog falls off a short drop and into the sea, which is vaguely visible some yards out. To her left is a short flight of driftwood steps, the sort that would lead to a seaside hotel.

But they lead nowhere.

The steps are all that's left of it.

Weeks of tidal action have carried away most of the wreckage, but there's a couple huge fallen logs that might have once been weight-bearing beams of some kind, caught along the rocky cliff.

Hina had gestured to her left at the hotel-that-isn't-any-more, but then she pauses, nods, visibly corrects herself, and gestures to the right instead.

"HERE we are," she repeats, firmly this time.

'Here' is what looks like a shack made out of more driftwood. It has a tarp, and a firepit, though no fire is lit. There are a couple of sleeping bags rolled up down there. There is a makeshift sign, rough paint on plywood, that says 'SANBU VILLAGE HOTEL.'

There is also an old man. He's got a fishing pole that looks even older than him between his hands, a bucket of bait at his side, and he's seated on a closed cooler.

"Oy, Hina-chan," he rasps with papery lungs. "The catch is going to be good today, I can feel it in my teeth. Go check and see if the konbini has ice yet, there's enough that we could store!"

"Grandpa," Hina reminds him for obviously the tenth time, but she's more affectionate than impatient, "The Hatsumotos were one of the families that took the evac trucks weeks ago. It was their konbini, remember?"

'Grandpa' harumphs. There is a sense that Hina might not be his literal granddaughter, that the title is casual rather than official, though certainly he's old enough to be. Tiny, wrinkled, tough as old leather, he could be a thousand as easily as seventy. "Well, it's the village council's now. Ito-san's been going through everything to see what we can use. Go check. No ice, whoever heard of such a thing? We just need to pull together, there's nothing we can't get through together."

With the air of someone who wants to extricate themselves before they hear a rant they've heard one HUNDRED times, Hina nods gamely. "Okay, I'll go see about your ice, but when I asked yesterday, Ito-san said the machine wasn't working..."

She glances back over her shoulder at the group.

"Oh -- this is Furukawa-san, he runs the front desk. Grandpa, these are the tourists. Real tourists! He can check you in and answer all your questions."

Off she goes. She takes the light with her. The world gets that much smaller and darker. The sea keeps kissing the shore.

Furukawa-san clears his throat, which turns into a coughing fit. Wet and heavy, it sinks into his chest. Eventually, he looks up, and back out, at the ocean and -- though he can't see it through the fog -- at the end of his fishing line.

There is a sense that the old man might have forgotten that the group is there, until he remarks, with the patience of someone who's been fishing longer than the combined ages of much of the group: "The fish will come when they come. ...It's good that you came. Good to have guests again."

A few flies buzz around his bait bucket.

<Pose Tracker> Hanae Fujioka [Infinity Institute (11)] has posed.

It's an awful lot of fog. Hanae's not completely unused to it of course, given how early she tends to get up, and how much of her time is spent on water... but it's really, really foggy. ...That kind of shifts away though, from the top of her mind, as do the other students. Despite how friendly she is, she kind of ends up on her own for a moment. ANd especially...

Yes. Hanae gets that mment of grief. But she doesn't say anything.

Nor does she say anyhting about the hotel that isn't a hotel. The sea... It keeps going, all the same.

The sea will keep going no matter what, won't it?

She forgets herself for a moment but then 'good to have guests again' gtes her to pipe up, "Glad to be here."

...She signed up to help. It's the kind of thing she does.

<Pose Tracker> Momo Inoue [Juuban Public School (9)] has posed.

"I'm sure of it," Momo agreed about their hospitality. "I did not mean to imply that the soup was the extent of your good hearts here."

The fog and cold dampened Momo's spirits, worrrying about getting lost. But surely, the guide knows what she's doing. "Nothing to see today because of the fog, of course sweetie," she tried to comfort. "Things will be better once we get to the hotel. I'm sure we will all feel much better."

She was wrong.

"That's the hote-" Momo began incredulously, then caught herself. "It is quite... built well for its materials. After the... incident, it is impressive how quickly this has been built."

The old man's and Hina-chan's discussion caused Momo to sigh and slowly shake her head. She opened her mouth to comment, but then found out he ran the front desk. "It... it is a pleasure..." she strained to sound sincere, and did not perfectly succeed, "...to stay here. Thank you for your hospitality..." Rather than looking thankful, she first looked disappointed... then depressed. "You... you really are... good people here, aren't you?"

<Pose Tracker> Naru Osaka [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

"You always say the sweetest things."

Actually normal, high school couple. What are the odds.

"I'm sure you could figure out a way, like you do when you're tutoring me." Looking over her shoulder at Shiho and Rina, she doesn't quite catch most of it but- "Why do I get the feeling they're talking about us?" She murmurs to Umino, "Ah well, they're probably just jealous."

Umino accidentally stumbles on an actually good point, and Naru actually contemplates it, placing a finger to her chin, "Huh. I'm surprised it has power after everything."

Perhaps if she had foresight, she'd have gone back to the bus. Instead she hoists her bag over her shoulder, following after. "I'll say, I can barely even see her..."

Naru looks at the steps on arrival and... "Uh I hope you don't expect us to walk..."

Her vision corrects to the right, "That's the hotel?" There's just the biggest sigh as she murmurs to Umino, looking a bit defeated as she echoes, "...Yes, we're happy... to help..."

She REALLY needs that extra credit, fortunately though, she realizes that bus is probably lonnngggg gone or else temptation might strike her.

She makes a face at the buzzing flies and the bait bucket. "Extra credit... extra credit." It's becoming like a mantra for her, her math grade depends on her enduring.

<Pose Tracker> Chie Harada [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.

"Oh, don't worry," Chie grins, to Shiho and Rina, lifting her fingers -- she pockets her phone briefly to do so -- so she can frame the two of them in a photo frame built by her pointers. "You've caught the Juuban angle! Of course, the two of you are great at that, aren't you?"

Aoi adds: "I'm looking forward to your performance!" The talent they've been mustering together for that show, which, of course, Chie and Aoi have heard about.

(Aoi might be a familiar face to Okazaki-sensei, too -- because she loves dance class!)

Wandering forward in that fog, Aoi reaches out to grab Takumi's hand -- "Mooouuu, this is scary!" she complains, as if to explain why she's so handsy, because grabbing him is definitely for Aoi's benefit -- while Chie uses her phone as a flashlight of her own, perhaps actually a shade nervous about how Hina's flashlight is struggling.

"The fog's making it hard," Chie agrees, to Hina, catching that slip in her mask, that slowing of her footsteps. "It's too bad, but we'll take you at your word about it." She has the typical Ohtori grace about what isn't stated, but then, the children of Ohtori are so often daughters of dignitaries.

The two of them both stop, and stare, for a moment, at the drop where sand might have once gone, a shoreline eaten to nothing at all. Chie, surreptitiously, takes a picture of the wreckage under the guise of using her phone as a flashlight. It captures the fog wreathing about the light cast by the phone, the way it makes the emptiness seem to stretch on forever, all punctuated by the loss of beams all strewn where they oughtn't be.

Perhaps she has a better future in wartime photography, but she doesn't call attention to taking down the evidence, either way.

She blinks, and swings around to the right when Aoi taps her arm to indicate Hina realising her mistake. The hotel...

The 'hotel.'

Aoi claps her hands together, visibly nervous. "Ahh... Furukawa-san, you must be a pretty experienced fisherman, right..?" Or, translated: she has no idea what to say to this.

<Pose Tracker> Gurio Umino [Ohtori Academy (10)] has posed.

"Ehehehe," Gurio answers Naru.

"If they were talking about us, we'd been sneezing," says Gurio after that, "and obviously we are not, so therefore -- I mean to s-- hold on," and then he sneezes into the crook of his own arm, a quick and fairly dry sneeze.

There's nothing to see. At this, Gurio's own grip on Naru's hand tightens.

Inwardly, he thinks of points of comparison. Experience has trained him to think there might be zombies, or maybe zombie nurses, out there in this level of gloom, but he doesn't answer Hina more than an acknowledging "ehehe" along the way.

It's solemn, kind of. He looks around, though he has several obstacles between him and taking in the full visual experience. He doesn't let go of Naru's hand. "W, well I think most of it's gonna be - uh -" He falters, not finishing what he was about to say, about how a lot of it is probably fifty percent of the way to Okinawa by now, on account of it was washed out to sea.

Silence.

Flies buzz.

"Uhh-- so what kinda fish do you usually get this time of year, Furukawa-san!?" Gurio hurls into the conversation, sweat beading on the back of his neck. (Oh heck oh gosh, he thinks. I'm going to look like a total dork in front of Naru, and then she'll ditch out and run out into the fog and-- and--!!!!)

<Pose Tracker> Takumi Tokiha [Ohtori Academy (12)] has posed.

It's chilly. It's foggy. And the footing is precarious.

Takumi might single-handedly be slowing the group down with how careful his footsteps are. The rocks underfoot might collapse at any moment, judging by how he walks - not from experience, perhaps, but with caution or fear. He's hesitant to reach out for help, even here - but he tries to keep up, to stay with the group, because with everything else here he refuses to be alone. Aoi and Chie, Shiho and Rina, as long as he's with someone he can manage.

But it's ocean waves that recenter him. A schoolmate's hand grabbing his in the fog reminds him he hasn't been abandoned here. And the light helps, intermittent as it is. That's different too.

Still, when the group halts briefly - when grief breaks through the facade of keeping things running as usual - Takumi puts a hand to his heart. He should speak up, shouldn't he? Isn't that why they're here, to...try to help in some way? And yet, how rude is it to interrupt someone who's dancing on eggshells?

"...right. It's hard to see anything today." All he can do is try to keep that plate spinning.

There's those little hopes for the future, and as Takumi works his way through broken timber and scattered rock, he can't help but remark to himself. Maybe too quiet for Hina to hear, but not too quiet for his fellow students. "...when is something too broken to fix, though? When do you..."

But he trails off, unable to even finish the thought let alone the sentence.

Finally, they're at the top of the stairs - and it's gone. The hotel is gone, off a cliff that Takumi blindly stumbles away from for a moment, and it's just...no. There's a replacement, meager as it is, a little plywood sign proudly declaring that desperate veneer of normalcy to the world.

Takumi's heart hurts all over again.

But they've arrived. The konbini must be a shell with its owners gone, but they're here, with someone desperate to keep things together. They're...guests, ostensibly, but that seems like a horrible misconception to perpetuate. And yet, the eggshells of grief lie ever underfoot, and words have to be chosen carefully.

"It's nice to meet you, Furukawa-san. Thank you for your hospitality." Takumi bows, because this is an elder and that's the polite (manly) thing to do, and grasps for any kind of line. "We're, um, here to help out where we can...are you on the village council?"

<Pose Tracker> Yuki Okazaki [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

Waiting to board the bus, the Ohtori students Yuki recognizes do get a smile and a nod of recognition--this includes Aoi, of course. "I'm glad you decided to help out."

To Momo, on the bus, Yuki quietly says, "They may be 'stubborn', but they're facing the end of their way of life as they know it. It's not easy choice that they have to make, either way." There's a bit of a soft rebuke in her voice.

Yuki can't be married to two avid camping enthusiasts without picking up at least some of their preparation techniques. (And Kyouka insisted she be as prepared as possible since they were going over separately.) As such, she's got her own flashlight on hand in her backpack ready to go for when they got off the bus. And some spare batteries, besides. So when Hina's batteries start to die, she's also quick to make an offer. "Tanaka-san, I have some extra batteries, would you like some? What size does your flashlight use?"

She falls silent, when Hina does, paying her own silent respects for those who have perished in the tragedy. She doesn't offer any platitudes, however. As much as she understands their unwillingness to leave... she also understands the enormity of the task of attempting to rebuild in a situation like this.

Other than that she's keeping an eye on the group of kids behind them, taking constant head counts to make sure nobody's lost in the thick fog. And when they eventually reach the broken boardwalk she's quick to supervise, nodding to Momo. "Help me make sure nobody hurts themselves over here."

The start of Momo's incredulous comments about the hotel earn her a gentle but very firm elbow in the side, along with a stern glance. The sort of teacher glance that says 'See me after class.' She's also offering that look to any of the students here who say anything out of line--even the non-Ohtori ones who possibly can't be her students.

She raises an eyebrow at Hina's description of them as 'tourists', but leaves that question aside for the moment. Instead, she just exchanges an awkward glance with her fellow chaperone. She was prepared for quite a bit, but not exactly this.

Gurio beats her to the question about what fish are around, but does add on, "My husband does a fair bit of fishing in his free time. I'd be curious to know that, too." But even as she's trying to be polite, she is looking around for something to keep the kids busy. "Yes, Tokiha-san is right. There must be something we can do to help out, even if we're... guests." She hates perpeptuating the lie, too, but it might be the kindest thing in this moment.

<Pose Tracker> Shiho and Rina [Juuban Public School (11)] has posed.

"Feels weird to have such a hard time seeing during the day," Shiho notes as she follows the one-woman welcoming committee.

"Spoken like someone who never wore a monster mask." Rina had been the eponymous creature in The Thing from the Spring, Shiho's most ambitious student film production to date. It was a pretty ramshackle production. "Seems like they got it kinda rough in the mud typhoon or whatever they called it..."

"No kidding."

"You don't want to film?" Not a lot could be seen, but it was still a novel atmosphere. Rina wouldn't mind Shiho's enthusiasm to make it seem like an adventure instead of a creepy tragedy, and there were no people out here, so it did not seem insensitive.

"When the footing's a bit safer, heh heh heh," Shiho grimaced. "I'm a little afraid of heights. And the ocean feels like it's right here somehow, worried I'll just walk right into it."

Rina looks over toward the sound of foam reaching the shore, over and over. "You want me to hold your hand?" she asks, adding a note of annoyance.

"Nah I got it," Shiho assures her. "Giraffes like you don't get scared of height, you're always high up. Ow ow ow," she complains of a flick to her earlobe.

They continue on in silence for a while until they begin to crunch their way up the gravel to the hotel. "Do you think they really have soup?" Rina wonders skeptically. "I mean, regular soup, yes. But their local delicacy or whatever... this place isn't even supposed to have running water."

"You hungry?" Shiho misapprehends the thrust of this question. Rina lets it go.

"Not for that... sounds gross to me." She whispers, to avoid hurting Hina's feelings.

"You'll probably like it," Shiho says familiarly. "It's good to try new stuff."

"Sometimes."

"As much as possible," Shiho proclaims.

They both halt as they see where the hotel stairs lead. They stare out into the ocean air.

The two seem ill at ease as Hina departs, leaving them in new care. Shiho seems oddly mollified by the old man, however, nodding along a bit. She whispers her gossip to Takumi, perhaps because he seems like he needs a distraction. Probably because he seems too helpless to escape.

"I hear a lot of people left. Looks like it, right?"

"The weird part is that people stayed," Rina counters softly. "Are you not looking at that 'hotel'?!"

"I think it's inspiring," Shiho argues, via speaking to Takumi. "I want to be a part of it! Reclaiming their village... they're not ready to give up on it. They're rebuilding. Something really crazy happened to them, it's not surprising that lady was acting a little weird."

"That was weeks ago! This isn't..." Rina finds Shiho staring at her, so she levels her tone, glancing apologetically at Takumi. "Yeah, okay. We're here to help, anyway, it's not our decision to begin with what happens with all... this."

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.

Back when they were walking, Yuki offered Hina fresh batteries and Hina blinked at her like someone who's gotten so used to a flickering flashlight that she forgot there was an alternative, let alone a solution. "Thanks, ma'am. You know, I don't even remember--" She pauses and looks blankly down at the flashlight. Her hand is covering the little plastic panel that would pop out.

"I'll look later," she decided, but before later came, wound up off taking on that quixotic ice run. Maybe it can happen later later.

---

Furukawa-san doesn't blink as Momo's statement becomes a question. He answers it directly, still without looking away from the water. "Sanbu's people are as good as its village, and Sanbu Village is a good village," he grunts, and if this is a bleak statement as juxtaposed by his surroundings, he holds that bleakness out of his voice by sheer force of will.

Then the questions start to come thicker and faster. He blinks several times, perhaps growing overwhelmed. One gets the feeling that even when Sanbu was still actually a village and not a humanitarian disaster site, he did not often see so many people all at once. Like many small towns, it lived and died on a tourist trade that was fickle and often declining. A mudslide may have killed Sanbu off quickly, but it may well have been dying the longer, slower, more painful death, for many decades now.

Though if it's dead, Furukawa doesn't seem willing to accept it.

"Help, help, everyone's here to help," he grumbles, though not unkindly. "I should change the sign to SANBU VILLAGE HELPERS HOSTEL." He seems to recognize that he won't be getting to charge anyone for a room today. Well -- for one of the sleeping bags. Would anyone pay even if they were a tourist? It seems unlikely. These accommodations are so inadequate as to be farcical at best, like some silly reality show. Where are the (hidden) cameras?

It's hard to see his face in the dark, and the reverse must also be true.

"Everyone fishes in Sanbu," is his reply to Gurio and Aoi. "Can't live here if you don't. It's a rule."

Beat.

"Just kidding."

The absolute normality of his banal joke almost visibly lightens the fog.

"Can't see a thing," he mutters. He shifts the fishing pole from both hands into just his left, then switches it to his right... then gives up and holds it with both again. In just one hand it had wobbled dangerously. It must be heavy. "You! Girl," Hanae, who, like many others, offered to help. "Turn on this lantern for me."

There is a lantern near him. It's within arm's reach. He explains, before anyone asks, "Can't put down the pole. Might miss your dinner."

Once it's on, its yellow light adds some amount of civilization to the moment; roughly as much as was lost when Hina left. Maybe a little bit more. It's a sturdier construction than the flashlight. Now that he has even the slightest hope of seeing his company, he turns -- though, as he said, he doesn't stop his fishing.

He looks the group over.

"I am at that," he says to Takumi; on the village council, that is. "Can't have a village without a council. It's a rule."

More flies are gathering, as though attracted by all the people. Furukawa-san bats at them with a gnarled hand, but just for a second; then he goes back to holding the pole. One or two actually settle on his back and he clearly is choosing to ignore them.

"You all want to help?" he asks without asking, repeating the overall sentiment. Probably he didn't overhear Shiho's little hiss to Takumi, but maybe he did, because his suggestion is highly relevant to the girl with the camcorder. "Go for a walk. Take some pictures." He uses the wrong word for it, kind of an old-fashioned word in a world that has the word 'footage.' The kind of phrasing someone who lived through the concept of 'moving pictures' would use. But he knows what he means. "Send them to the officials... show them how we need more help than a bunch of kids can give, but how we're helping ourselves, too. How we're trying so," his voice breaks slightly, "Hard."

The lantern light gutters. It must be low on batteries too.

"Tell them not to give up on us so easily."

It flickers off, darkness filling each of the crags and crevasses of his face, until it's banished by the next flicker on.

"Because we can't," Furukawa-san says hoarsely. "We can't give up."

<Pose Tracker> Hanae Fujioka [Infinity Institute (11)] has posed.

Hanae can take direction! She sees the lantern, and doesn't argue; instead she moves to turn on the lantern, kneeling down and flipping the knob. It does help. She's a fan of fishing herself, actually.

But then...

He gives them a suggestion, and Hanae is quiet. The talk about 'helping' earlier already chagrined her a little. Now this...

Hanae stands quietly, watching him for a few moments, before she nods.

"Okay," the swimmer says. "THat's what we'll do." She doesn't really have any authority, obviously; she's not the adult here. But she doesn't think she's just speaking for herself, either; she's just one of those types who is willing to speak for people when it feels like it's the right thing to do.

"C'mon," Hanae says, and takes a moment to nudge Takumi before she goes. He seems to be having some trouble, and he reminds her of...

"Come with me--I need somebody to watch out for me if I'm looking through a camera, right?"

Then she starts onward. Onward, towards the seashore, with all its strewn debris. Even trying to clean it up, there's still so much there, the detritus of lives, things that used to be important to people that are no so much drifting wood.

She takes pictures, with her phone. She's not bad at photography; she got into it with Yumi a while back.

"...Hey, do you see that over there?" she wonders. "I wonder if..."

<Pose Tracker> Momo Inoue [Juuban Public School (9)] has posed.

Twice, Yuki had kept Momo on the right track. At first she was angry about it, but with everything she had seen, Momo could not. She glanced at her 'teacher' with an odd expression of resigned thanks.

Even more heartbreak hit Momo as Furukawa-san gave his speech about what would help. "I..." she began, but then looked once more between him and Yuki, and went silent. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pink phone, one more common with teenagers than grown adults but also quite expensive-looking. "You're right, Furukawa-san. We... are not equipped to help at the scale you need, but we can raise awareness."

Momo attempted to pull Yuki aside and talked quietly. "Not many people have... 'corrected' me the way you have," she practically hissed. "I would not forgive that... but actually..." Her already quiet voice softened. "I needed that. Thank you. I am... not doing well with all this. I usually speak my mind, and make myself important. But this is... things are bigger than me. Could I... follow your lead for a while?"

<Pose Tracker> Gurio Umino [Ohtori Academy (10)] has posed.

The old man speaks to them about the rules. The rules that -- well, they're the rules, Gurio thinks, but there's not a village to belong to, is there?

Is there?

What can they do to help?

The old man is surrounded by flies.

He has an answer for them.

Gurio's head tilts forwards. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand and brings out a microfiber cloth. Reluctantly, he lets go of Naru's hand to bring that hand up and take off his glasses, his slightly scruffy and naturally spiky hair hanging a little heavily in the humidity of the cold air.

He wants them to take pictures.

As he cleans oil and condensation off of his lenses, Gurio looks up.

"You got it, old man," he answers, with an unusual glimpse of rude determination.

https://i.imgur.com/YEgBVry.png

"Naru," he continues, looking towards the red-topped blur in the mist that is literally two feet away from him, "you got your new phone with you, right?"

He puts his glasses back on (https://i.imgur.com/9iIY2jD.png) and continues, "The Standard Ginga 8.1 ME's got that low-backscatter option so it's going to be a better choice than mine for digital photography, and I don't think we'll need much else even in this big old soup of a fog. I, I mean I don't - i-is it okay if I use your phone for this??"

"I was thinking we'd have to find-- like, something that's like... cool, but sad, and then like, if I step back like six meters you'd still show UP fine but you'd be all like extra-beautiful and shrouded in mist! Like a gorgeous memory of what was and could be again!!"

<Pose Tracker> Takumi Tokiha [Ohtori Academy (12)] has posed.

And...here they are. Sent to help a helpless situation. Takumi takes deep breaths, trying to slow his thoughts, slow his pulse, because he's got to be responsible. Helpful. Not a burden, like he would be if he had a...problem.

The Ohtori boy glances sharply at Shiho and Rina, at their comments - and his expression shifts from shock to something much more...melancholy. Maybe he doesn't have the years Furukawa-san does to have shadows fall upon his face quite so deeply, but the disappointment shows - and he shakes his head sadly, saving his words for when they're out walking.

Furukawa-san is on the village council. Takumi wonders if anyone else still is.

"...I know, sir. It's...hard." Takumi pauses, like he has more to say - but this might be the wrong place. And yet, if he doesn't speak up - but then the older Hanae is nudging him, and Takumi swallows those words for later. "Right. We'll...do what we can."

What they can do is, unfortunately, very little. News crews covered the broad strokes, but as Takumi walks with Hanae - ever watchful for crumbling banks - it's clear to him that Sanbu can no longer exist the way it does. He takes out his own phone to document what he sees, but again and again...

Some houses in ruins - and yet, those are the ones that managed to be salvaged. Between three wrecked buildings, enough materials were left for one shelter - enough to at least organize what belongings managed to survive the storm. Furniture in pieces, roofing torn asunder across the landscape - and then Takumi sees where Hanae is pointing, and stumbles over his own feet.

It's a chimney. A stovepipe, really - just an off-kilter bit of piping, noticeable but askew from the storm. It protrudes mournfully from the earth itself - the peak of a house that was devoured by the landslide. Maybe those who once lived there managed to get out of the way in time...or maybe they were just...

Lost.

Takumi starts breathing harder, putting his hands on his knees as he strains for breath, closing his eyes against that evidence. It's a minute, maybe two, before he can get himself anywhere near normal, and he looks up in shame.

"...it's just...gone. It's not just broken, it's..." He gestures feebly at the mudslide, the aftermath of that 'dirt tsunami'. "They can't build on that, the next storm will just...this can't keep going. They can't just keep...pretending that hard work alone will make things normal again! All that does is make them burn themselves out..."

He can't do this. "I can't-" He coughs, coughs heavily, and sits on the rocky ruins of what might have been a road or path or garden shed, because he doesn't even have the strength to run away from all this.

<Pose Tracker> Chie Harada [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.

"I'm glad I decided to come, Okazaki-sensei," Aoi smiled, to the dance instructor.

But can she really be glad about being here..?

"I usually go fishing for information instead," Chie offers, meeting the old fisherman's attempt at a joke with her own. "Can we say that counts, Furukawa-san?"

"I went fishing once when we went to Okinawa," Aoi offers, helpfully.

"You capsized our boat five minutes in," Chie points out, adjusting her glasses.

"I still think it counts," Aoi pouts.

So, clearly, they're tourists.

But when he makes that request, Chie swings her phone around, to show Furukawa the picture she snapped, on their way in. "Don't worry," she assures him. "I'm always looking for the facts. We'll get you your pictures." She uses his word for it -- he's not the first person she's known who uses archaic language in the middle of an otherwise-normal sentence, after all.

Aoi smiles, to Shiho and Rina. "Between us, we'll be sure to get some good footage, right?"

Of the two of them, Aoi's the spotter -- Chie, with her very fancy camera, is all focused on the truth she can capture through her lens. "Careful," Aoi warns, about an exposed root or piece of metal sticking from the ground.

They make their way to the edge of the mudslide -- to the edge of the disaster. Aoi shines the light of her own phone over, to help Chie's recording.

"Look at this," Chie says, as she swings her phone's camera from the trees still extant on one side -- to the mound of mud and debris inches over. "I'm having to zoom in here because there's no way to get much closer... but you can see the difference, can't you?"

"It's gone," her voice relates, and her face isn't in shot, but the frown behind her glasses is communicated anyway. "All the way to the foundations they built on. You've probably seen the aerial footage of this, but... this is what it looks like from here." Still confronting, but in an entirely different way. Here, you can see the places where a home used to be, before the rug was swept out from under it.

"When rich districts are damaged by earthquakes or tsunamis, there's no question about whether we'll rebuild. Tokyo, statistically, is one of the most natural disaster-prone cities around. But Sanbu is a provincial village -- it doesn't have Tokyo's budget." Or its PR team, but Chie leaves that part to be inferred by the listener, as she pans over the shattered edges of the destruction. "It's convenient for the country to ask them to move, but isn't it cruel to ask that of people who've lived here their whole life? I'd like to ask you to come here and talk to them yourself."

Finally, she closes the shot, and reviews it. "Geez," she sighs, with less of an Announcer's Voice, now she's not talking into a recording. "I don't know if we'll be any better at getting the government to listen to us..."

"But it's good footage," Aoi assures Chie, at least. "It's good footage."

<Pose Tracker> Naru Osaka [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

There is the biggest sigh when Umino asks what kind of fish he gets this time of year. She does not in fact run off into the fog alone. His response though causes her to jolt, "Wait does that mean you expect us t-" 'Just kidding'. Naru sighs visibly with relief... looking sidelong at Umino.

Naru listens to Furukawa. Being a big city girl from Tokyo, she doesn't really get it, this small town attitude. It makes sense to her that if their village got destroyed by a mud slide after being destroyed countless times before - you just move on.

However despite it being like this, she's not trying to be rude, and there's something in his tone that catches her heartstrings. She doesn't quite get it. Not really. This stubbornness, this sense of connection to community and home.

It is enough though that she sighs and acquiesces, "Alright." Before she looks sideways at Umino - with his glasses off. And a small flush takes her cheeks during this time frame. "Uh-Um..." As he explains the reasoning, Naru opens her phone up and moves to her photos. "-of course you can! I just need to reply to this text from Usagi while I still have bars... and..."

She reddens further, almost as red as her hair as she lets out a giggle, rubbing her cheek, "Oh gosh. You're such a romantic sometimes Umino."

More quietly she transfers a few pictures over to e-mail of schemes between her and Usagi that caught some pictures of Haruka Tenoh, several members of boy bands, Jagged Stone, Ouji Masamune, Miki Kaoru... the list goes on. While holding up her phone between her and Umino, she holds her breath while they upload and - releases it when she's sees that it's gone through. Then delete, delete, delete from the photo section.

She then lines up the camera to Umino's un-bespectacled face and, click 'flash'! "Oh oops! My finger slipped! Still it turned out, pret~ty... well. I think you're right on it taking pictures pretty well in this environment."

She hands over her phone to him, then takes his hand and tugs him away from the 'hotel'. "Come on, let's go find the perfect spot for this!"

<Pose Tracker> Yuki Okazaki [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

Yuki makes a note to check in with Hina later, if she can, about the batteries, but lets the matter aside for now.

She does chuckle at Furuwaka's jokes about it 'being a rule' to be able to fish or have a village council. It's muted though, so it's a little hard to tell if it's just a soft laugh at a minor joke, a polite chuckle, or perhaps a little bit of both.

Furuwaka's resolve to not give up is, honestly, heartbreaking. The whole situation is, really. Though she's focused on the here and now, at least for the moment.

Yuki was expecting to do something involving a bit more labor, but until that water truck gets here... She checks her cell phone to see if she can get an update on that. Still no signal. Sigh.

"Alright, kids. You heard Furuwaka-san. Why don't we all go and capture what we can see. Make sure to stay within sight of each other, I don't want anybody getting lost. And please, if you're taking pictures or video with your phone, pay attention to your surroundings." She's doing her best to... well, not be falsely upbeat, but to at least be motivating enough to get all the students to participate. It's a fine line.

Yuki gives Momo an arched eyebrow as she complains about being 'corrected', and is ready to issue another rebuke, but she pauses when Momo's tone changes. And then she asks to stick with her, and Yuki nods. "Of course. And I'm sorry if I overstepped, but..." She looks out at the group of kids, and the village, such as it is. "These are some tough things they'll have to grapple with. The least us adults can do is to handle the situation gracefully and set a good example for them. I didn't mean any offense to you, personally."

She starts to walk with Momo, her phone out as she looks around. She's thinking of Kyouka, what she might focus on, and is looking for parts of the landscape and nature that are out of place--but she's trying to keep at least an ear, if not an eye on the children... and the sound of coughing definitely catches her attention. She catches Momo's eye and inclines her head in the direction of the sound.

"Tokiha-san?" She rushes when she gets closer and sees the kid having a coughing fit. She switches easily to soothing tones, "There, there. Take it easy. What can I do for you?" She places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

<Pose Tracker> Shiho and Rina [Juuban Public School (11)] has posed.

Shiho's eyes bulge. She is a bit of a loud whisperer. But if the old man did overhear, he seems to approve, and Shiho grows a Cheshire grin.

"Documentary filmmaking, huh? That's something new. Maybe it's time I cut my teeth on a new form, huh?"

"Don't elbow me," Rina says automatically. Shiho retracts her already extending elbow discreetly. "He's really speaking your language."

"You got yourself a cameragirl," Shiho says, not obnoxious enough to call herself a director to the old man's face. She turns, goggling at Aoi. "...yeah," she agrees. "Two good teams on the job, right right right?" Her characteristic tripling-of-words. Grabbing Rina's shoulder, she pulls her low enough to whisper at.

"Was that a challenge? Is it a competition now?"

"Please try to remember this is a disaster area," Rina sighs.

As the group begins to fragment a little before, to regather for a new task, something interesting happens. "Yo, chaperone drama," Shiho notes with some relish. "Yikes yikes yikes."

"What's that about?" Rina agrees, looking at the two moms having some sort of confrontation or breakthrough.

-=-=-

As the group proceeds, Shiho has her camcorder out, filming as she goes. "She's doing kind of a social justice thing over there," Shiho mulls over Chie's commentary. "Maybe she should ride the train from Ohtori to Juuban sometime, document that bathroom by the library..."

"These flies are annoying," Rina sighs, waving her hand.

"They're not really gettin' me, I'm too short. Hm, maybe I should try to make it more personal, sort of hands-off, let the viewer come to their own conclusion..."

"You shouldn't be doing this at all," Rina snaps. "I'm not saying we should tell these people to leave, that's not our job, but... trying to help them stay? They're deluding themselves. Like, literally. There's... there's no ice, you get that, right?" As Shiho watches her in startlement, her camcorder viewing nothing, Rina touches her forehead. "There is never going to be any ice."

"...yeah, just..." Shiho shrugs. "We're here to help, right? And that's the help he wants. They obviously don't want us acting like we're aid workers or whatever, so..."

"Yeah," Rina sighs. "Roll with it for now, I guess. Just..."

"I get it," Shiho holds up a hand. "I won't get weird about it. Just... let's take some videos."

They wander for a while, doing that, mostly in silence. Rina seems withdrawn. As Shiho films a flattened span of roof, sticking out like a crumpled bit of cardboard from a place far from its foundation, she frowns.

"Something's been bothering me."

"Oh thank god," Rina exhales. "You too?"

"When Harada said we've caught the Juuban angle, that was like, actually a diss, right? Like if I went into a mousehole and I was like oh, you're just as good as me, you've got the whole MOUSEHOLE angle down pat, that's not really a compliment right? Like you're the queen yeah but of a way smaller place than..."

"God, seriously? That was like an hour ago," Rina sputters. "You're not her rival or something, just stop thinking about what she's doing."

"Well, she made it a film challenge, and film is kind of my thing," Shiho says with a grin of relish. She's clearly having fun.

"It's not," Rina exhales. "It was never your thing. You're not 'the movie girl.' You're the 'gets excited about everything' girl, and you just really go for stuff. But movies are really hard and they take way longer than you realized, so since you're the go-for-stuff girl you just ended up doing it, and that was awesome, I mean it. But it could have just as easily been whatever. You just happened to do that one and you happened to be pretty good at it."

Shiho looks at her friend, still recording. "...yeah. I guess that's right," she says. She does not seem very hurt. But she is confused. "But... now is it my thing?"

"No, it... were you listening?"

"I was, but..."

"You just did it!"

Shiho glances around. They are not, have not been, alone, a fact which Rina realizes as well belatedly.

"I'm sorry," Rina explains, to Shiho, the others. "Sorry, I..."

"The flies are getting her."

"They're getting me so BAD," Rina expels, her genuine frustration helping paper over the moment.

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.

They don't see many people on their walk; often times those they do see are glimpsed from afar, ducking into their makeshift, grossly inadequate shelters. Their clothes are ordinary, if a bit overlayered and overworn, in the manner of someone who no longer has much of a wardrobe, let alone a place to keep it in. It was on the news, but it's another thing to see in person the stark truth that everyone in Sanbu Village is homeless. And if there is nowhere in the village to call home, is there a village at all?

Another, deeper question lingers in the air like the mist, which further from the shore is congealing again like cream into butter, gloppy, thick. There's that sweetness again, sickly, underneath the smell of the sea, and the question is there inside it. It is in sewage from the destroyed plant and a dozen other places where people went when they had to go and there was nowhere left, nowhere better.

The question is in rotting gardens, destroyed yards, and maybe even, despite the better efforts of a different class of rescuer who worked for weeks to prevent it, it is in the scent of at least some small amount of human compost. It is in the charred places where people lit campfires, but couldn't, or wouldn't, keep the going forever. There isn't a single fire still burning in the whole town.

Why do they stay?

There isn't a single LIGHT. It's a powerless place. But for the occasional lantern or flashlight, of course. As they get deeper into town, the village density, such as it is, might be increasing slightly, because there are gradually more of them, but the people continue to keep to themselves, and that gap makes the town feel even emptier than the seaside did.

At one point the group starts following a light that is bobbing up ahead at a steady gait. It does not stop if they call out. Eventually the broken road, on this broken hill, takes a little curve, and when they once more are in sight of the light, it is gone.

They have come to an intersection.

Well, it used to be an intersection. Neither road is passable to cars, and is barely passable on foot, so while technically concrete is still intersectING, it isn't much of a crossroads per se.

In what was the middle of it, but is now the middle of nowhere, is a huge, absolutely towering piece of metal. It is pitted already, corroded from the flooding, and almost completely flattened by its own weight on its lower side -- the side where it hit the ground.

It's a traffic light. You don't realize how big they are, when they're way up in the air. They are taller than a man.

It WAS a traffic light. The only traffic light in Sanbu Village. Imagine the lobbying that took place to replace a stop sign with this simple piece of modern technology. The major improvement to public safety that it represented. The funding they had to argue for. The need they had to demonstrate. The meetings they attended. Maybe it took Furukawa-san decades to achieve. Or maybe someone else did, someone who's not here anymore, either because they left or because they died.

Sanbu is back down to zero.

Why do they stay?

The flies are everywhere. There's almost enough of a buzz from them at times to replace the missing electric hum, whose absence only campers have ever experienced. Not everyone from Tokyo goes camping. Rina, who had it first and worst, is starting to attract what might briefly be mistaken for fireflies, too. Little yellow shimmers. It's the wrong time of year for them. And also, unlike the flies, they have no bodies... there's nothing to swat. Though they can be brushed away, they don't feel like anything at all. The first one alights on her collar at the back of her neck. Then on an elbow. There are always more.

It's hard to make out much through the mist, which is more of a flood than a trickle now, yet at the same time, a flood MADE OUT of trickles, a thousand thousand fingerlings. But, dimly, the group spies something that was mentioned before, there on the other side of the street.

The konbini. It can't be anything else. Its awning was ripped off by the winds, its door is hanging diagonal on one hinge, and most of its windows are broken, but there hanging in one, behind shards rather than panes, is a neon sign that will never brighten again. Unlit, they look like black tubes, though they're actually clear with black bracketing behind them.

CHICKEN

CROQUETTES

CIGARETTES

This could have been the one near Juuban High. Or any of a thousand others in Tokyo. It didn't HAVE to be in Sanbu at all, in the way that the missing hotel was probably unique and wonderful to the village. It could have been anywhere, because it is everywhere.

This could be anywhere.

This could be home.

This could happen... at home.

Anything could happen, at home. Just like that. One day Sanbu was here and the next it was gone.

It all feels so heavy.

Dead air.

A yellow light flickers inside the konbini.

<Pose Tracker> Hanae Fujioka [Infinity Institute (11)] has posed.

"Hey, hey..." Takumi's fast breathing gets Hanae's attention, and she walks over to him--not crowding him, but close enough that she can reach out if he falls. He doesn't, so she doesn't. But she watches. He talks about how it's just gone...

"...Yeah," Hanae says. "Sometimes... it really isn't possible," she says, with understanding, as she thinks of someone else. Someone she hasn't spoken to that much lately...

"I think they know that," the swimmer says quietly to Takumi, moving over to take a seat next to him. She can stick around, at least. She doesn't panic, or ask him if he's OK, though she does give Okazaki a smal smile of acknowledgement. He can answer for himself. She just sits with him. She just... talks.

"...But even so, they don't give up. And maybe it's not possible. Maybe they can't do it. But if they want to keep trying... I think it's not our place to tell them to stop. Maybe it's impossible, but... It's their decision."

She starts to push herself up off the ground, and extends a hand to Takumi. "C'mon. You ready to go? We got some good shots here."

Lanterns and flashlights, and their phones. And the people who keep to themselves. But eventually they reach what could be an intersection, and...

"...Whoa," Hanae says, walking up to the traffic light. And then she swats at a fly. "C'mon..."

The mist continues, even unto this.. place.

They shouldn't go in. They shouldn't get near it. It's obviously dangerous. But...

"Is somebody in there?" Hanae asks, and starts getting closer. It's heavy, but... if they shouldn't be here, neither should...

"Hey! Are you in there?" she calls, as she walks closer.

<Pose Tracker> Momo Inoue [Juuban Public School (9)] has posed.

"You... you did not overstep," Momo reassured Yuki. "Adults need to act like adults around children. Especially..." She gestured wide at the desolation before them. "In situations like this. They need adults who can see the bigger picture and treat things with respect."

With that, she activated her camera app and pointed her phone at a building.

At least, there should have been a building there.

Shouldn't there at least be recognizable pieces of debris? Chunks of wood or steel? Maybe scraps of signs or decorations, or something to show what once existed?

But all that remained were splinters, mud, and unrecognizable mangled pieces half-buried.

That, and the crushing atmosphere of destruction and despair.

"How? How can this happen in modern times? Why can villages just... vanish because the Earth decides to move wrong? I..." Momo turned to Yuki and whispered. "Is it really okay for the kids to see this?"

Soon, there is very little to see with the mist, but Momo still recognized something. The konbini was still identifiable, but that almost made things worse. She took pictures and recordings, but her hands shook. "...is it okay for me to see this?" Soon she couldn't, as her eyes were mistier than the fog.

<Pose Tracker> Takumi Tokiha [Ohtori Academy (12)] has posed.

Take it easy. Take it...easy?

Rebelliously, petulantly, Takumi shrugs off the comforting hand, even as he coughs in the foggy air. He has a water bottle, at least, and takes a sip to calm his throat with his free hand on his heart. He prepared for this, after all.

He couldn't ever really be prepared for this.

"...nothing, Okazaki-san. I don't need anything, it's this..." He gestures at what used to be Sanbu, and slumps, despondent. "...you can't make this not have happened. We can't make the land un-slide."

Still he sits, catching his breath, corralling his thoughts, the weight of the disaster too much to bear. And yet, he can't stay here forever. It's not safe. The ground could give way again.

No one can ever trust their footing again, here.

Hanae's words help. A bit. Even if Takumi can't quite bring himself to agree. "...it's a bad decision." He's breathing more slowly, at least. "I...I think I want to try to convince them. That even though this is the home they loved, she can't-"

He breaks off the words because they're not right yet. Not in the phrasing. Not in the audience. When asked if he's ready to go, he just nods, musters the strength to stand.

Even though this can't stand. It can't continue like this.

The traffic light...it's a tragedy, but it doesn't overwhelm Takumi like the sight of the landslide did. It's just...he lets out a sigh of dismay. "...they loved this place. They made it theirs. And it's no one's fault, but-" He stumbles as a broken chunk of road slides on the mud underfoot, treacherous ground giving way-

Hanae is next to him, and he clings to that arm for a moment, breathing heavily, not even trying to swat at those dancing lights. It's like he's not even looking at them.

"...they can't stay here." He finally lets go, standing to look at the corpse of the konbini. "It's...it's not something they can fix, any more. Sanbu can't...can't support anyone anymore, can it?"

His heart keeps beating, for all that it hurts.

<Pose Tracker> Chie Harada [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.

It's Takumi, struggling, that bring Aoi and Chie back to the pack -- well, Aoi hears people being concerned first, and tugs Chie over. She gives him a little, we're-around-and-we-see-you wave, but she can see the teacher and the swimmer fussing over him, so she doesn't fuss, too.

(Chie has also heard that gossip, which means Aoi's heard it, too.)

A single traffic light... Sanbu definitely doesn't have a PR team, Chie thinks, to herself, a shade dismal. All these things are politics, in the end. Moving people around for convenience's sake...

Chie and Aoi, who survived the occupation of Ohtori, aren't complete strangers to -- call it destruction. Call it destruction, and the things left behind. But this is a level entirely unlike that; this is a place which has been erased. "Who decides what's worth building back up..?" Chie mutters, discouraged.

Aoi swats, at the flies. She supposes they must be fireflies. "It feels pretty final, doesn't it?" She murmurs, in the wake of Takumi's thoughts. "I don't know... maybe you're right, Takumi-kun. Maybe it's safer if they'd leave, but... right now, I think some people would still stay behind here, even if you convinced more to go."

Aoi wrings her hands, looking at the signage of the konbini. "I'd... worry about them. Would they really leave if it got more dangerous..? If someone was stubborn enough to stay... I'd be scared I wouldn't see them again. Like grandpa Furukawa-san..." Someone like that, Aoi thinks, wouldn't leave even if it would kill them.

"If this happened here," Chie insists, snapping a photo of the konbini, "we'd fix it."

She pauses.

She appends: "If... if it happened in Tokyo, I mean."

Because they're not in Tokyo. They're out in the provinces.

It just... feels a lot like home, to her, all a sudden.

<Pose Tracker> Yuki Okazaki [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

Yuki, like her daughter, can be a bit headstrong. She's doing her best to hold herself together but... the atmosphere is so oppressive. There are those who are those who are both too stubborn to leave yet seem to have given up, all the same.

She thought she knew what she was getting in for when she signed up for this, but... even watching the news, earnestly trying to understand the situation as it really is... there's really nothing that compares to seeing it firsthand, in person. There's no news report, video, or photo that can capture smells, and there's certainly none that can capture the mood of the remaining inhabitants.

But then Momo confesses her fears about the children seeing this, and it's hard for her not to think of her own daughter. Who was quick to sign up, who gets so frustrated when things are out of her control or can't be fixed, but who wants to care anyway. Yuki puts a comforting hand on Momo's shoulder. "I'm honestly not sure," she admits. "But the world isn't always a kind place. I just hope the lessons the children take away from this are worthwhile ones."

She can deal with her own feelings later. Right now other people are counting on her.

She doesn't begrudge Takumi his small act of petulance. And when he explains... she nods. "I know," she says frankly, but in a soft voice. "Nobody can turn back time. And I'm sure many of them realize it too. But for many of them, it's not just a place that they live, it's their way of existence. Many of them may have never set foot outside the village. It's hard to ask someone to give that up."

She waits for Takumi to get back to his feet, and keeps an eye on him as they progress further into the city. She starts noticing the flies eventually, too, swatting them even as she keeps her flashlight sweeping around to try and avoid the worst of the terrain.

That traffic light... such a sign of progress for the villain felled low. She takes a picture of it, because she suspects the amount of effort that must've gone into obtaining it, for a small village like this. Yet, without working roads, without power, what use can it serve?

Yuki gives Momo's shoulder another squeeze as they reach the konbini. "It's okay if this is hard," she murmurs. She can't tell her not to worry about it, that would be insane, but... she can at least be supportive. Hopefully that will help.

<Pose Tracker> Gurio Umino [Ohtori Academy (10)] has posed.

Before the journey, Gurio says towards Takumi, "H-hey, take it easy! That's where we come in, right? Like... they're working hard, but hard work doesn't literally move mountains! It brings people together, and... they get heavy machinery and stuff... and everyone else moves mountains! They just are still on step one. Just take it easy, alright?" with a sort of hectic air.

But then his attention goes back to Naru as she sneaks a photo of him. The angle comes from the side, removing a lot of the impact of his glasses. "Heh," he answers her. "Thanks. Come on... I'm sure we're gonna find something perfect."

One of the other people with them mentions chaperone drama. "Uh," Gurio dithers, perhaps because he's addressing a girl while with the best one, "I mean this is pretty rough for everyone, even adults are gonna get moved. They might have seen stuff like this before, in a tsunami or..."

"A, anyway."

-=-=-=-

During the journey, Gurio and Naru end up pausing in front of the front yard of a house that is... not there any more; but the concrete yard wall is still there, tilting slightly but with a visible gate. "Okay! This is gonna be perfect. H-how about you stand inside the gate-- um, actually no -- yeah, right there! Perfect!"

Gurio takes some big steps back. At four he takes a picture.

At five he takes another.

At six he nearly slips and falls on his backside but instead ends up topplling to the side with a "waheyeyeyyyyy" sort of gabbling sound and catching himself on one hand, the Standard Ginga held firmly in his other hand. He breathes swiftly for five seconds before straightening upwards and sweeping a hand through his hair.

"Heh," he says.

With dirt in his hair.

-=-=-=-

Near the conbini, with flies buzzing.

The dead sign in front of them.

"Th-this is really getting to me... I guess it's probably better in the day, right? I, uh, I guess it is day," Gurio dithers aloud as he clings to Naru's hand, walking with the others. "I mean when the fog isn't this, uh, this thick. I guess you'd see everything, but you'd see the sky and the sea too, right...??"

I should go get a stick or something, Gurio thinks. Oh geez. Even Tuxedo Mask has a cane, right?? It wouldn't be weird if I had a stick or something. I could tell the chaperones it's in case we slip or something -- I should have picked one up already! Oh geez, it's just flies, get a GRIP, man, the worst you're gonna find is -

- is like a fridge that got knocked over but nobody found -- that'd be what the flies --

<Pose Tracker> Shiho and Rina [Juuban Public School (11)] has posed.

"Hey. They're still going," Rina observes, of their mom-chaperones. Shiho finds a normal, light-hearted comment like that from her a relief, right now.

"I hear those hormones really start going at middle age."

"Did you know that adult brains aren't developed yet?" Rina plays along.

"The adult world is all they know... jobs, taxes. I wish they knew what a small part of their life it's going to be."

Rina takes a moment this time, and her volley back is weaker. "Yeah. Right now all they're thinking about is promotions, and stuff. There's... more to it than that."

Shiho is good at what she does. She lets the anticipation build just a moment.

"Video games," Shiho lays down the final brick. She's just a casual gamer, but the truth of it, when spoken with such placid satisfaction, feels undeniable.

"There's so many video games," Rina says wisely, as if it had been what she was thinking all along.

For a while all is well with the two best friends, which is good, because the town's problems are starting to become less of a serious reality that dutiful Rina tries to remind Shiho not to treat as a game, and more of a constant, oppressive weight on both of their shoulders. Shiho no longer seems concerned about whether she should try to beat Chie at her documentary niche or challenge it with her own. She defaults unintentionally to silence most of the time, to making of the camcorder an extra eye that follows her first two around, though when she does want to talk to Rina or anyone else, she just lets the camera capture it.

The one time, surreptitiously, that she lets her curiosity overcome her respect is when Takumi talks about trying to convince the villagers. She discreetly moves the boy into the frame. She always keeps a heavy layer of irony around her proclamations of herself as some sort of artist. Rina's not wrong, film isn't her 'thing.' But she has a sense, still, that capturing a sort of honesty that could only happen in this place, at this time, is something that may be a just form of thievery. That it is wrong, but good, and that is the sort of thing maybe grown-up directors do. She worries that Rina will scold her.

But Rina is no longer watching any of this through Shiho's camera lens. She's in the picture herself.

Shiho lets the camcorder down, still running but no longer with her observation, watching Rina wander ahead. There is nothing obviously wrong with her friend in this moment. But the little ghost lights that have wandered the fog all this time are beginning to gather on her. Perhaps they ought to seem like beautiful decorations (Shiho gags thinking of what Umino would say if it happened to Naru). But instead it feels like how they explained themselves to the Ohtori girls: messy. Like Rina is just letting a mess accumulate.

It's just some sort of fog thing that city girls like Shiho have heard happens all the time out here in the mountains. Shiho has seen the others brush them off their sleeves or hair here and there, which just sort of seemed like the thing to do, even if it's hard to explain why. Does dandelion fuzz hurt you? Well, no, but...

"Hey, Rina!" Shiho jogs after her, letting the view of her camcorder swing around wildly. When she reaches her friend, she uses her free hand to brush her off, sending the ghost lights floating away, even getting on tiptoe to get the one at her nape.

"Hey, what?" Rina asks, distracted, but reassuringly annoyed.

"Sorry sorry sorry, you just got some of those, uh..." Shiho snaps her fingers a few times as she looks around in her head for the name.

"Onibi," Rina supplies. Devil-fire.

Shiho nods. "...you had onibi." She gets off her tiptoes and starts to continue walking.

"Maybe they're here because of the mudslide."

Shiho pauses, looking back at her friend. "What?"

"You know. All this water sitting around, then it turns into mist... I wish Yukishiro were here, she's such a weather person."

"Oh," Shiho exhales. "I bet that's right."

"Looks like the konbini."

As they wander into the street--into what had been the street--Shiho and Rina separate a little again, Shiho going to look at the konbini, Rina at the traffic light. If it is a division between them, it is a division of labor; they will let the other know if they find something interesting.

"I think I hear an ice machine," Shiho teases weakly.

"Right."

"Just humming away back there. Really cranking out the cubes."

Rina does not answer.

"...Rina?"

Rina stands facing the traffic light. She is a tall girl, but shorter than a full grown man, and thus far shorter than this surreal monument. To what is it devoted? Pragmatism? Loss? Inevitability?

Shiho hops back off the curb, away from the konbini, and walks back to her friend. "Wow," she says, standing next to it. Rina nods. Reaching out a hand, she touches its metal casing.

"Do you still want these people to stay here?" Rina asks softly. A ghost light lands on her, but it seems like a rude moment to brush it off.

"...I don't know," Shiho says. "I just want people to go for stuff if they think they can do it. I know I'm just here for my college application, though."

"Film school."

"Yeah."

"Your dad will kill you."

"Right."

Rina takes a step forward, and tests the span of the traffic light with her arms. "I can't even reach all the way," she wonders aloud.

"Ne, ne, ne," Shiho hesitates. "Are you mad I'm doing all this film stuff?"

"You're just not..." A few more ghost lights drift onto her, just during that long pause. "I feel like you're deciding on your whole future because of this one random thing you did."

"I..." Shiho swallows. "I mean you said I was good at it."

"But it's not your thing. You never decided you were going to be some director. It's literally just... it was way more of a big deal than you realized. And step by step you just sorta..." Rina does not blink as a ghost light comes to rest on her nose. "Let it suck you along."

"I... I guess I'm deciding now. Right?" Shiho is anxious. "Rina..."

"I don't want you to do something forever just because you did it. I don't want... I don't want to... do that."

"Is that thing on?" Shiho asks, in an anxious hush.

The middle, yellow light of the traffic light is beginning to pulse, washing Shiho's tiny body in its wan glow.

"That's not who you are just because you did it... you just... you just do something by chance one day and then..." Rina is trembling.

"Let go of that thing," Shiho stammers. "You'll get hurt... it's on or something..."

"I don't want to," Rina snaps. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to do what you're saying either."

"Will you stop talking about that? Just let go of...!" Shiho rushes forward and grasps Rina's arm, trying to pry her off by force. For a moment the two friends struggle, Rina resisting. But after a moment, the ghost-light covered girl slumps wearily, and lets Shiho do her best. Still, her arms remain where they are, until Shiho, gasping, pauses her struggle.

"Let go, Rina," she whispers, pleading. Rina closes her eyes. The yellow light glows steadily, washing out their red school uniforms.

"I can't," Rina realizes, hoarsely.

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.

The horror is becoming unbearable. Nor should anyone have to bear it; not Momo, not Takumi, not anyone. Momo's question is a good one. How CAN this happen in modern times? How is it that a city like Tokyo, and a tragedy like Sanbu, can be two hours drive from each other?

How is it that humans pretend that they're so strong, when really they're so weak?

Takumi's right too. Sanbu CAN'T support anyone anymore. It isn't about right or wrong, or about want or need. It just is. Or, rather, it isn't. Yuki, another adult voice, speaks of hardness, but this is not about what's easy, either. How could it be? It would be SO much easier to just leave, right? Than to live through this endless tragedy, to endure this needless poverty? The evacuation trucks CAME. The workers CAME. The help already came.

Came, and went, because... why?

Why did they stay?

Aoi, however, is wrong: but she is instructively wrong.

Someone like Grandpa Furukawa-san... she talks about whether or not they WOULD leave.

But he said it himself, didn't he?

His hands locked to that fishing pole, unable to put it down.

Hina, on the street, shaking the flashlight as though it was attached to the end of her arm... which glowed the same yellow of Grandpa's lantern, of the will-o-the-wisps on Rina... of the pulsing yellow light of the traffic light, now.

Later, she said, but seeing Rina now, it's obvious.

Hina couldn't unclench her hand.

Rina can't let go.

"We can't give up," said Grandpa.

Not passionately. Not inspiringly.

Literally.

Leaving Sanbu isn't a matter of WOULD.

<Pose Tracker> Hanae Fujioka [Infinity Institute (11)] has posed.

"...Yeah," Hanae admits to Takumi. "It looks that way." The others, some of them, speak up. It feels 'final'. "...You can't convince everybody," she says to Aoi. She looks at Chie. She looks at Umino.

"Sometimes you just can't," she says. "Sometimes you really do reach your limit. ...And then... you can't fix it for..."

For her, she almost says, but she remembers that Takumi said that too. "...If you wanna convince them I'll back you up," she decides. "I don't think it's our call... but someone should, right?"

But then, Hanae was inspecting the konbini, or what's left of it. She gets close, peers inside, looks for a source... "I think I hear the ice too..."

"...?" She wonders. What's Shiho looking at...?

"...I have a friend," she says to Takumi, then. "My best friend. She would've wanted to come here. She's all about helping people. ...But she can't do stuff like this. Last time she tried... It didn't go so well. And her mom got so mad."

"So I.."

"I try to do stuff like this. Because I can. Because someone should."

She looks at Rina, stuck. Rina can't let go.

"...Mrs. Okazaki...?" She wonders, looking to her, and hesitates, before, "I..."

Hanae wavers. She looks at Takumi, instead. "I'll--I'll do something!" she says, and starts jogging over to the traffic light.

It's heavy. It's so heavy. And she so, desperately, needs someone to protect. "If we all work together, we--"

<Pose Tracker> Chie Harada [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.

"Ne, Chie-senpai," Aoi asks, a shade miserable, as she turns to look at the pulsing traffic light. "You drive, right?"

"Aoi-chan," Chie starts, a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what..."

"What does the flashing yellow light mean, again?" Aoi asks, and does not reach for her hand.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Chie says, back, a frown on her face. "Hang on, there's got to be something here about electrical... ahhh, I can't get a signal..."

"Please, just tell me," Aoi insists.

"Flashing yellow means traffic can proceed with caution," Chie says, finally. "When it stops flashing, it means no one can enter the intersection unless it can't stop when the light turns."

"When the light turns?" A-chan asks.

"When the light turns red," C-chan replies.

"And what does that mean? What does that mean?"

"You'd better stop. No one gets to move any more."

And they're not moving.

<Pose Tracker> Takumi Tokiha [Ohtori Academy (12)] has posed.

Takumi can't stand this. Everything here just seems familiar enough in all the worst ways. Maybe it's him - maybe there are aspects he's dwelling on he can't ignore.

Because it's not right. Because things have to change eventually. Because - because sometimes a man has to study English phrasebooks to prepare to move to America, even if that means leaving his sister behind.

...not that he's told her those plans yet. He can't bring himself to break the news.

He whispers. "It can't continue like this." But it can't change, either. That's the problem. Things can't change and they can't stay the same and that's the problem, isn't it? That's the root of all of it.

Takumi can't just sit idly by, but can't see a way to fix it. His breath picks up a hitch when Hanae offers to back him up, when she talks about her friend. And...he actually smiles, when she talks about her friend.

"Because someone should," he says, half to her and half to herself. His hand is trembling, even as Hanae turns to Rina's plight. "That's...that's not always right. Even if I wish I could do more, I can't just let her take on more burdens-"

Takumi can't stop Hanae from going to help - can't do anything himself, can't let any of this stand. It's broken - this town, his life, it's all broken, and there's a roar in his ears as his thoughts and anger begin to overwhelm him.

"They have to...how can I tell that old man that things have to change?!" He's shouting, now - maybe to his fellow students, maybe to himself, but louder than he's spoken all trip. Shouting to them what he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone in this village. "Even if it's hard - what supported you is gone, and you have to move on if you want to live, you have to-"

Takumi can't calm down. And there's an irregular th-thump in his chest.

<Pose Tracker> Yuki Okazaki [Juuban Public School (10)] has posed.

Yuki's doing her best to keep track of all of the kids, of course. It's a small group, but it's still difficult, despite that. Especially as they get more into the heart of the--well, former village, with more buildings, and the fog, and just... the disquieting mood. There's something unsettling in the atmosphere, possibly just seeing the wreckage of what she can easily imagine used to be such a lively and vibrant place. She's never been to this village, specifically, but she's been to others like it. The thoughts weigh heavy on her even as she tries to keep track of everyone, to keep her own spirits up so she can watch out for others.

She checks her cell phone again. No signal. Hrm.

It's also disquieting that the water truck isn't here yet. She knows, and she can tell some of the kids do as well, that the water won't do anything, not really. It's a delaying tactic, if anything, but no matter how much the practical thing is to leave, well... humans aren't always perfectly logical, practical creatures. It's hard to make the choice to leave your home, to throw away everything you've known.

She did it once, though, her own situation was admittedly nowhere near as dire. Not by a long shot.

Still, it would at least be accomplishing something even if all it was was buying a little bit of time.

She's peering into the konbini, looking for that source of light when she hears her name and turns. "Yes, Fujioka-san?" She watches as the girl runs off, and frowns as she sees the other girls fussing about the traffic light--and the traffic light seems to be glowing yellow light. Pulsing, just like...

"But there shouldn't be any power... Girls! Get away from that!" And next she's running too, carefully making her way over. "I don't know why that thing is glowing but you shouldn't touch it if it is. There's no telling if you'll shock yourself." That shouldn't be possible normally, but with all the damage it's taken, who wants to test their luck on if it's still properly insulated or not?

<Pose Tracker> Shiho and Rina [Juuban Public School (11)] has posed.

It makes too much sense. Shiho had a fight with her best friend, and everything went wrong. This is what it always feels like would happen: now nothing is right. Not just with her and Rina. Nothing.

"S-someone?" Shiho manages reedily. "Someone help! She's stuck, she's..."

This time Rina cannot supply the word for her. She just stares back, mutely, aware of what a betrayal she has perpetrated. Aware that because of her, nothing makes sense.

"She's stuck," Shiho repeats helplessly. "It's okay... it's just more onibi or something, this thing can't be on, the electricity's off for miles... it doesn't hurt, right? Tell me tell me tell me if it hurts okay?"

"It doesn't hurt," Rina sniffles. "Stop yelling, okay? I just got caught on something probably... I'm not gonna stand here holding this traffic light forever."

This, like the video of Takumi, strikes Shiho at once with its painful honesty, though in this case, it is inverted. Rina feels it, too. She made to sound like she was arguing from absurdity. But to Rina, it already feels like will be only two chapters to her life. Chapter 1: The Story Thus Far. Chapter 2: Standing here right where she is.

"Just give me a minute," Rina bargains with Shiho, trying to take that look off her face, the one she got when she heard how afraid Rina was.

"What?" Shiho asks, frightened and exasperated, the yelling a constant goad to her anxiety. "I can't hear her, will everybody shut up?"

"I said just give me a minute," Rina presses, though the noise is ongoing, because that look is still on Shiho's face, and it is scaring her. "I need to get ready."

"TOKIHA! STOP YELLING!" Shiho shouts, rounding fiercely on the boy who is still over on the curb. Tearful, she turns back to Rina. "Rina," she asks, speaking slowly, in a way that accidentally communicates she has lost faith in her friend's sanity. "Why... do you need to get ready? To do..." She points at Rina's arms. "That?"

Rina stares at Shiho. "...don't touch me," she realizes. "Something... something's wrong with me."

<Pose Tracker> Pink Moon Stick [Admin] has posed.

Thick, thick. The fog is thick. It doesn't smell like brine anymore, doesn't taste like salt. It never did. But in the same way that the human eye adds in the missing part of an otherwise perfect circle on the assumption of its continuance, other senses, too, can fill in the blank, can become complicit in the illusion, an unwilling but eager assistant on the grand stage. What is real? What isn't?

They're all being swallowed up by it. It falls like a curtain.

Shiho can't see Rina anymore, or even the nose at the end of her face.

Yellow light is crawling up Takumi's chest.

Chie's light will never turn red.

There is no ice for Hisae. There was never any ice.

There was a village. It is dead.

There was a mist. It is alive.

---

Convenience stores all have a little motion sensor by the door. DING-DONG, they announce, whenever someone enters... or leaves. But this one has no power anymore, so when the man exits, the DING-DONG is silent.

It's the bus driver.

He looks like Rina sounds: different.

He hated the fog, but apparently there's something even worse outside of it. There's a autopilot clip to his gait. Almost robotic. The too-crisp motion of a person holding themselves together by main force. But he isn't together, is he? He's like everyone else. Transformed by this place, he has totally fallen apart.

Behind the ice-chip mask of his face -- the only ice chips in Sanbu -- is a seething, pulsating terror. An agony. Hina showed it, just for a moment, on the way down to the hotel. The grief of this place is very real, but this stranger, who only arrived today? He doesn't, CANNOT feel the same grief as the villagers.

He can only feel his own.

He carries a presumably pilfered bag of chips. Its very yellow plastic is made moreso in the strange light that runs up and down the planes of his body like veins inside-out. VERY MUCH like that. His insides, on the outside. And something outside, reaching in. Both are simultaneously true. Both are profoundly wrong.

He walks past the ruckus at the traffic light, unseeing, uncaring? Too far gone, one way or another.

He keeps walking until he's just far enough along the curve of the broken road that he can see the sea, or at least look in the direction of the sea unobstructed by anything but the mist. It isn't really in his way. He's staring outwards, but his expression is absolutely closed. Surely he can't really look anywhere but inward.

He hates the fog, but: "I can't go back," he tells himself, or perhaps this place told him. He can't face whatever it is that's waiting for him there. He is grateful that there's no cell reception here; he doesn't have to feel bad for not calling, and even better, he cannot be reached. It's better this way.

"I can't. I can't."

With his free hand, he fishes the keys to the bus from his pocket... and raises them to his lips.

Now no one will be going back.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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