The torii burns amber in the last light of day. Somewhere behind you, gravel shifts. You didn't leave a note. You barely had words. Just the need to disappear somewhere quiet, somewhere the noise inside your head might finally thin out. Shota's coat is dusty. He's been searching for hours. He doesn't speak — just stands at the gate like he isn't sure if approaching will break something. Your phone is full of Hizashi's voicemails. Each one a little less steady than the last. The sun is almost gone. And the two people who love you most have been quietly falling apart all day, trying not to show it.