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Yu Narukami can still feel the brick platform of Inaba’s station beneath his feet as he watches the world blur past him.Power lines chase alongside the train until they reach their end, allowing the sparsely remaining homes and miscellaneous buildings on the outer edges of Inaba to dot the distance until they, too, give way to nature. From poles and concrete to trees and weeds, Narukami witnesses the modest signals of life Inaba’s sleepy town buzzed with fade away behind him.The reflection of light draws the leader’s attention away from the landscape outside to the photograph he adjusts in his hold. Frozen in time are the bright faces of the Investigation Team gathered around their usual table at Junes—taken just days prior as a final parting gift. When faced with each of their smiling faces and waving hands, the wildcard smiles back with eyes still a touch misty, thumb rubbing the edge of the photo.He’d been strong as the metal doors slid shut and separated them; held his own as the wheels began to churn and pull him away from the first place that’d truly felt like home. It wasn’t until they’d all started running beside the train that Narukami hadn’t known how to respond past a wave and wobbly lips—tears freshly pricking the corners of his eyes as he took an unsteady breath in.The voices of his friends still echo in the caverns of his brain and etch their every syllable across the crevices of his heart. See you laters instead of goodbyes. A promise of reunion, not a farewell.In the distance, mountains line the horizons and cut jagged edges into the cloudless sky above. Below them, rolling fields of gold and green dance and sway with the wind. The vast ruralness that surrounded Inaba’s small town distracted prying eyes from trying to peer past the backwater town they traveled further and further away from.The shinkansen hums lightly as Narukami tucks the photo safely away between the pages of the book resting on his lap. His fingertips brush against the edges as he thinks back to Naoto, who he’d learned the trick from.
“It’s never ideal to store important documents like this,” the detective started. Narukami had been seated on the floor organizing the miniature figurines along the other’s shelf that late autumn afternoon in the Very Meticulous But Very Important Order of tallest on the ends and smallest in the middle.
Naoto had knelt beside him with an old graded assignment and textbook in hand, “ But , if you’re in a pinch for time as I often find myself in, it’s best to store them in the center of something else to protect it from the elements.” As they explained, they slipped the paper between the pages of their English textbook. “Until you can get it into a proper clear file, anyway.”
“Do you do this with your casework too?” the leader had asked sincerely, impressed by the detective’s willingness to be vulnerable about an aspect of themselves that wasn’t perfectly manicured to their usual blend of professionalism.
Naoto laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder, standing up to return to their desk to continue organizing schoolwork.
“Of course not. I use it exclusively for school.”
Narukami chuckles, leaning his head against the glass. Before him, vineyards stretch out in neat rows with the occasional traditional home nearby. Clusters of buds and early shoots are already lively as they slowly approach April, sprouting in timid, vibrant bundles beneath the hands that tended to them. He wonders—would their freshness remind him of the summer?Ah, summer. The heat had been no joke in Inaba where air conditioning was replaced with lazy fans and comfort was exchanged for sticky skin. Yet Narukami couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he remembered bright red pigtails bouncing ahead of him.
“Senpai ! It’s the summer festival! We have to do something more summer-y!” Rise had pouted, an air of spirited mischief to her as she moved her hands behind her back to skip ahead of him. “What about watermelon splitting? That seems like something you’d enjoy a lot!”
“I don’t want you to stain your yukata from the sheer force of my Super Intense Watermelon Splitting Technique,” Narukami reasoned with a small smile. He’d worn white pants out that night, too—she wouldn’t dare cause a wardrobe malfunction. And he was incredibly serious about his Super Intense Watermelon Splitting Technique. Dozens would be devastated in its wake.
Rise eventually relented to them sharing pre-sliced watermelon with the insistent promise that next summer they’d bash double the fruit with everyone there. No white clothes allowed. Idol's orders.
From his seat, a quiet town tucked behind the nooks of surrounding mountains peeks through as they fly past. With just a glimpse of their town, he wondered how much it differed from Inaba—how much was the same.Narukami can still recall the buzz of bugs in his ears and the lingering waves of heat against his cheeks as similar curiosities were shared with him by pair of big eyes and a cold, wet nose during an early summer’s dusk.
“Sensei?” Teddie’s voice hummed out thoughtfully.
Their day didn’t have any particular aim outside of exploring the town. Despite having already been settled for a few months now, Teddie’s snout had led them to find places that even Narukami’s Super Dependable And Definitely Never Wrong Ever radar had missed. All the while attracting the attention of the town’s children who reached for the mascot’s plush body.
Naturally, the leader had noticed the bear had been off throughout the day. The usual sparkle of excitement at receiving attention was absent, replaced with something distant—lost, even. Cheerful, lively chatter dwindled down to nothing more past friendly, polite exchanges that’d felt heavily one-sided. And photos captured smiles that never quite reached his eyes, always falling too close to flat by Teddie’s standards.
In the end, he opted to patiently wait until his companion was ready to talk.
“Hm?” Narukami hummed back.
“Do you think we’ll find others like me someday? Like how we found all those new places or met all those nice people? Would they be more like you guys or would they be more like me? What if they’re a beary … different animal?” He looked down at his paws, fisting and flexing them as he waddled.
When the silence stretched on and Narukami couldn’t find the perfect, magic words to comfort him, Teddie continued, “... Or, at the very least, find some answers?”
He hadn’t forgotten the way his heart twisted painfully in his chest at the forlorn tint in the bear’s voice. Or the way his fur felt so soft—so undeniably warm—beneath his hand as he rubbed his head.
“Of course we will.”
And answers they found. They hadn’t all been pleasant; the truth was never something so accommodating. Yet as he thinks back on that strength—that grit —pride wells within him and pours out from the gentle edges of his smile.Outside, Mt. Fuji comes into view; a stable, immovable symbol where power and perseverance lay. Like rough fingers tangled in endless thread, the snow-capped peak centers and grounds him, returning him to one late night in the Tatsumi family’s well-loved washitsu .
“Senpai, what gives?! Ya’ gotta be more careful than that,” Kanji chided with a click of his tongue as he gently dabbed at Narukami’s wound with antiseptic. “Why werent’cha wearing yer thimble?”
Narukami had finally gotten the opportunity to join his underclassman in his favorite— “super secret, ya’ hear?!” —hobby that evening. After some time, patience, and a little push at the mention of wanting to create something specifically for Nanako, the younger had finally relented to share the basics of his craft.
The leader looked at the thimble resting on the head of his half-finished project—a small, slightly uneven pink bunny with floral tummy patterns.
“He needed it more than me,” Narukami had replied with a level of earnestness he typically reserved for the TV World.
Kanji halted his first aid, bandage in hand, and followed his leader’s line of sight to his Well Armored But Still Very Incomplete creation. The burst of laughter that suddenly erupted from him was deep, rumbling, and warm; like distant winter nights beneath the kotatsu .
The stray strings and bits of cut fabric clung to his clothes well past their time together that evening, as he’d come to find remaining bits turn up in the laundry he’d do for the following weeks.
Nanako hadn’t separated from that bunny since gifting it to her.She’d clung to it at the station this morning, free arm raised high in a wave. Tucked beneath the other, the plush’s pink head and arms had stuck out as though it, too, wished him safe travels.Dotting the edges of the horizon, a quiet town hums with life, nestled between the alcoves of trees it carved itself into. Dated billboard advertisements for popular brands line the outer edges of the small town. He reaches for the bag below him, intending to find out where they roughly were, but the rumbling in his stomach changes his course. Ekiben now. Map later.The small platform shop they’d gotten his lunch from had been manned by a kind, quiet woman. The fondness in her smile and the way her eyes crinkled brought him back to cool evenings across the table from robes and makeup.
“And then he—mm—haha!” Yukiko had tried—and failed, for the fourth time—to get out the story of what happened earlier that evening. The rush of the Amagi Inn had come to a crawl after dinner concluded and she’d offered to split the leftovers with Narukami to lessen the waste. He was sure she’d thank his Incredibly Endless Yet Surprisingly Sensitive Stomach for it later.
The leader smiled behind his chopsticks, watching her closely. To work at the Amagi Inn was wholly demanding of one’s freedom—duties and expectations buried in stifled yawns and prominent eye bags.
It was only around him and the others, he’d realized, when Yukiko allowed herself to truly decompress.
That faux face of makeup and closed-mouth smile was replaced with imperfect skin and barked out laughter. Her kimono —usually pressed and ironed in neat folds and tucks—now rested in wrinkles and loose ties with the sleeves drawn up. The weary air that seemed to perpetually surround her dissipated into wisps of jokes and jests.
It was moments like these that he’d take over the “traditional” version of his friend the patrons tended to prefer. There wasn’t anything quite like this unbridled joy he cataloged as he finally took a mouthful of rice.
“Narukami?” Yukiko had called to him, head tilted and shoulders slouched. He’d snapped out of his thoughts to meet her eyes, mirroring her head tilt.
“Thank you,” she’d smiled, eyes crinkled just as his were.
Narukami picks his tempura thoughtfully, complicated feelings beginning to arise. Outside, the verdancy of the rural began to yield to the sprawling expanses of the manufactured urban as concrete and steel shadowed the receding sea of green. ‘Thank you.’ He wonders what it would’ve sounded like—felt like—as it poured earnestly from a certain ex-detective’s mouth. Would he have ever thanked Narukami? What for—his friendship? His betrayal in search of the truth? Had Narukami come sooner, could he have been helped somehow? Had he been too late?As he chews through his cold food, the leader finds he isn’t sure.What he was sure of, though, was that every dinner at the Dojima’s residence carried an ounce of genuine desire someplace deep in Adachi; the desire to belong somewhere.
Wisps of steam danced above the pot of nikujaga at the center of the kotatsu—its blanket folded and stored for a season months away. Narukami had watched the late June rain pour outside behind Adachi, the shadows of droplets cast across the floor by the occasional lightning that tore through stormy skies.
“I guess I lucked out, huh?” Adachi’s voice had hummed past a mouthful of meat and vegetables. “If I’d just gone home, not only would I have gotten caught in that mess—I would’ve been stuck with nothing but nimono for dinner again!”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t! It’d be bad for you and Daddy if you got sick, Mister Adachi!” Nanako chimed in as she scooted closer. “Food tastes a lot better with more people to enjoy it, anyways—big bro taught me that, right?”
The wild card turned back to the pair with nothing shy of adoration and looked down at their hands with a nod; various flowers drawn in shaky, black marker ink coated each pair from fingers to wrist.
The ink had stained those flowers against his heart since.
Narukami looks up from his own, now flowerless hands, yearning for that quiet, homely feeling along the lines of ink long since washed away.From his seat, structures of shrines and temples cut against the muted blue sky in stark, angular reds, towering over the thinning density of trees. The leader thinks of families pressed arm to arm in prayer, the sound of a child’s laughter ringing alongside the bell before they leave, joined at the hands, with their next destination in sight.Family; a word Narukami only came to truly understand within the past year in Inaba. It’d snuck up on him between early mornings of bento packing and late nights of covering his loved ones as they dreamt.
Home.
It was a wonder how he’d lived this long without this constant pulse of love; he was certain his heart would be rendered useless without them now.
“You're still up?” The words had come from the thin mess of tangled blankets and long limbs that was Dojima, voice still gravelly and edged with sleep.
The hammering behind his ribs hadn’t left Narukami as his mind raced on ahead without him, leaving him to deal with the lingering effects of his nightmare in the silence of a sleeping house. He'd hoped that pacing would help settle his nerves as the stillness of the house engulfed him, but the tranquility he sought had evolved from seclusion to isolation, only pushing him to withdraw deeper.
“I guess,” was his muted response.
It’d been enough to perturb his uncle to full wakefulness as Dojima’s eyes rested squarely on him. At first, Narukami assumed he’d been scrutinizing him for errors and promptly rolled his slouched shoulders back, straightening his posture.
But instead of the lecture he’d expected to hear, all he got was a concerned look and a heavy sigh. Risen from his couch-bed, Dojima pulled out a chair and guided him over.
“Sit down. I'll make us some coffee.”
The cogs in the wild card’s head had begun churning at the unusual suggestion, “At… four in the morning?”
The gentle press of Dojima’s hand against his head as he passed was both foreign yet comforting. He could hear the edge of a smirk in his uncle’s voice, “It’s close enough to five to count. Glad to see your brain is already starting to work out of that funk, kid.” A pause, “Wake me up next time, alright?”
And as they shared their coffee in silence, the wild card knew: he was not alone anymore.
He shuts his emptied ekiben thoughtfully, eyes focusing on the whirring world beyond the glass. Bridges crossed between buildings as flashing street lights kept the foot traffic on asphalt to a minimum. Even in the growing expanse of the city, the wild card catches groups of friends happily chatting amongst themselves that only serves to widen his smile some.Even when apart, they were all still connected. The Junes charm dangling from his phone was a physical reminder of such.He knew what true solitude looked like, after all.
“Big bro?”
Nanako had been uncharacteristically mousy all evening, coloring beside Narukami as he slogged through homework. He'd hummed in acknowledgment, looking up to give her his full attention.
“Do you think Daddy will keep his promise tonight?” When the leader looked at the clock and saw it was well past a reasonable hour for Dojima to return from work, something painful had twisted and folded his heart. He hadn’t hesitated to push aside his homework to clear the table.
“I'm not sure,” he'd started carefully, “but I'm not going anywhere.” The promise had been followed by him plucking a yellow crayon up as he scooted closer. “So why don’t we finish filling in this picture together?”
Densely packed homes and buildings were mere blurs between the stations they shuttered and shot past. Perfectly manicured parks sat between communities of apartments, trimmed and tame compared to the unruly fields he’d grown fond of. Generations old trees adorned in rope and old tires had no place among the freshly planted saplings that still bent with the wind.On a line parallel to his, Narukami watches as they steadily pass an express train. Locked in an interminable race with a clear victor, the shinkansen inevitably passes it with no difficulties, kicking up billows of dust in its wake.To fight knowing loss awaits you—the bravery in standing tall despite it all… Yes, he’s sure a certain dragon would have words about that.
Their usual sparring had been especially charged with something Narukami hadn’t been able to pin immediately. Chie’s expression was closed off when she dragged him by the wrist once classes ended, ignoring Yosuke’s protests and calls after them. It was only when they were in the gym with their heavy breathing and the setting sun did the leader finally connect the dots.
Desperation.
He eventually managed to convince her to take a break, handing her a cold water bottle before settling beside her. As discretely as he could manage, Narukami rubbed his sore arm.
“I don’t want to fail you guys,” Chie mumbled down into her jacket, nudging a water droplet on the floor. “If something happened to any of you because I went down…”
Admiration and worry mixed cautiously in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t need to wear yourself thin; we all have our weaknesses in battle. It just means we have to depend on one another to cover us, not carry the burden alone.”
A shove against his shoulder had left him utterly confounded. Had his Foolproof Narukami Wisdom failed him?
But Chie merely laughed as she rose to her feet, offering him her hand, “Yeah, easy for a guy like you who can change his weakness at any time, huh?”
With the tension dissipating and the bruises on his arm definitely beginning to form, the leader accepted her hand with a smile, wincing as she pulled him up, “Anything to make sure you guys are covered.”
Imposing in its towering clutter of business and residential alike, an urban jungle of concrete and pollution thrived. Inaba was plentiful in rich colors that filled every sense. Here, splashes of color from crowded izakayas and bright billboards opposed the washed out tones its residents drowned in.Winding roads and alleyways dipped and dove past Narukami’s line of sight as the endless expanse of the city's maze seemed to stretch deeper into itself. The wild card couldn’t be more thankful that his uncle and cousin had opted to live where they did. He wasn’t confident in his ability to traverse here unassisted—despite his city background.Though it wasn’t as if he’d gone completely unassisted back in Inaba.
Crisp, mid-spring air had filled his lungs and cooled his skin, bangs whipped back as his legs worked to keep pace with his classmate—Yosuke Hanamura—who cycled just ahead of him. As a fellow “city-turned-country-boy,” Hanamura had extended his hand to him with the promise to acquaint him with all the cool spots around town.
Narukami had been glad someone finally saw how Indisputably Cool he was.
It’d hardly taken much time to make their way across Inaba, even with all the short stops he’d made to absorb the quiet town better. Thankfully, Hanamura didn’t seem to mind all too much. At the mention of a favorite spot he had, though, Narukami suggested they race to it. With Hanamura leading, of course.
“Isn’t the point of a race to get there before the other person? If I’m leading you, doesn’t that mean I’ll win?” They slowly began pedaling west as Narukami pulled up beside him, “That’s not much of a race—”
Before Hanamura could finish his explanation, Narukami had taken off in the direction they were headed, only speeding up at the other boy’s yells. Without any direction, Hanamura inevitably passed him, herding them from smooth roads to bumpy dirt paths leading upwards.
The spot wound up being a small clearing on a nearby mountain’s edge that overlooked Inaba. Parked side by side, they watched the setting sun cast its final rays across the town.
“I can see why you like this spot,” Narukami started with a hum, leaning forward on his handles. “Thanks for showing me this and around the rest of the town… Yosuke.”
“H-Hey man, isn’t it a little too soon for us to be trading first names like that?”
The announcement that they would soon reach their destination played overhead, pulling the wild card from his thoughts. Neon signs and lofty skyscrapers dart past and he’s reminded of dense foot traffic and heavy noise, promptly plugging his headphones in to block the impending disturbance. Looming in the distance was Tokyo Tower as it poked above its surrounding structures.The leader takes his time to carefully collect and pack his things, idly humming the theme song for Junes to himself. By the time he’s zipping up his bag, the shinkansen is pulling up to the station and slowly coming to a stop. He stands, allowing others to pass him and deboard first, before exiting himself to join the sea of traffic and bodies endlessly in motion. For a moment he stands there and observes the flow of people and taking in the smell of nearby food shops.And as he felt the concrete platform of Tokyo’s station beneath his feet and took a deep breath, Narukami smiled and knew.He couldn’t wait to go back home.