The train began to slow.
The steady rhythm beneath Ren's feet softened, stretching into longer gaps.
thrum… …thm…
He sat by the window, his reflection faint against the glass. Outside, the scenery had already changed—no tall buildings, no crowded crossings. Just open land, quiet and wide.
Fields moved past slowly.
A few scattered houses.
Telephone poles standing in long, straight lines.
Ren rested his head slightly against the window.
"…so this is it."
The words came out low, almost lost in the hum of the train.
No reply followed.
The train gave a final soft hiss as it stopped.
shhhht—
The doors opened.
Ren stood, lifted his bag, and stepped out onto the platform.
The first thing he noticed—
was the absence of sound.
No rushing footsteps.
No layered announcements.
Just wind.
Light, steady.
He looked around.
A small station sign.
A wooden bench.
Two people standing far apart, speaking quietly.
That was all.
Ren adjusted his grip on the suitcase.
"…quiet," he murmured.
He stood there a second longer than needed.
Then turned toward the exit.
Outside the station—
nothing waited.
No taxis.
No buses.
No convenience store is glowing at the corner.
Just a narrow road stretching forward.
Ren glanced once to the left.
Then right.
"…of course."
I have to walk myself home from here,
He started walking.
The wheels of his suitcase made a dull, uneven sound.
tak… tak… tak…
The road was lined with grass on both sides. Beyond that—fields, slightly uneven, moving gently with the wind.
A faint buzzing of insects filled the air.
Far ahead, a few rooftops were visible.
"…I'll be here for a while."
Why do I feel like I have to go to the city just to earn? Why does it still feel like something's missing?
I could start fresh right here… work on what I've always wanted. What do I really need—Wi-Fi, a laptop… and myself.
Honestly, this feels better than becoming a slave to a job… or even to my own business.
He said it without hesitation.
Not questioning.
Not resisting.
Just stating it.
The thought didn't feel heavy.
It settled quietly.
He looked ahead again.
His grip tightened slightly on the suitcase handle.
"…but first…"
A short breath.
"…I should fix the house first. It'll take time… a lot of it. Hope it's not too bad. I think I can manage most of it myself."
He shook his head lightly.
"No… I'll figure it out when I get there. Why am I rushing? It's not like I mind the work. Maybe I should just enjoy it… like a long break."
Then, without warning—
"A break? Really? After losing 90% of your money?"
"…I didn't lose it," he said quietly. "It'll come back… it just needs time."
But the doubt stayed, wrapping itself around his thoughts as he kept walking.
The wind passed again, brushing lightly against his clothes.
Ren continued walking.
The sound of an engine approached from behind.
rrrrr…
Ren stepped slightly to the side.
A small kei truck slowed as it neared him.
Then stopped.
The window rolled down.
"Where are you heading?" the driver asked.
Ren turned.
"Hoshinomura."
The man looked at him for a second, then gave a small nod.
"I'm from there," he said. "Village chief."
A slight pause.
"Daichi Sakamoto."
Ren nodded once. "Ren Takahashi."
"You walking all the way?"
"Yes."
The chief glanced at the road ahead, then back at him.
"…get in."
Ren hesitated for just a moment.
Then gave a small nod.
"…thank you."
He placed his suitcase in the back and sat inside.
The door closed with a soft thunk.
The truck started moving again.
The road felt smoother inside the truck.
Fields passed by slowly.
Houses began to appear—spaced apart, each with its own small boundary of land.
The engine hummed steadily.
"So, where are you heading?" Daichi asked, eyes still on the road.
"It's an old house near the edge of the village… close to the forest. The Takahashi house. It belonged to my grandparents," Ren said.
Daichi nodded slowly, a faint smile forming.
"Takahashi, huh… I know your grandparents very well."
Ren glanced at him, then back outside.
"…I see."
"They were good people."
"…yes."
The conversation paused there.
Not unfinished.
Just… enough.
The truck moved uphill slightly.
More houses appeared.
A dog barked somewhere in the distance.
"Planning to stay for a while?"
Daichi asked after a while, his voice cutting through the low hum of the engine.
"For now," Ren said, watching the road stretch ahead. "At least until things settle down.
""Settle down, huh…"
Daichi repeated quietly. "City didn't treat you too well?"
Ren let out a faint breath, almost a laugh.
"Something like that."
Daichi gave a small nod, as if that was enough explanation.
"Happens more often than people admit. "Silence returned, but it wasn't as empty this time. The road began to narrow, trees pressing closer on both sides.
Then—"Here," Daichi said, slowing the vehicle.
The truck stopped.
Ren stepped out.
The house stood ahead.
Old wood, darkened slightly with age.
The outer walls showed wear. Paint faded. Edges softened by time.
Plants had grown freely around it, brushing against the lower panels.
Windows closed.
No movement inside.
Ren observed quietly.
"…structure looks fine."
He stepped a little closer.
Sure, it needs a deep clean. I have to find out if there is renovation work
Daichi stood beside him.
"Sure is rundown," he said. "You'll need to clean it first."
Ren nodded.
"…yeah. I can do that."
The chief reached into his pocket, handing him a small piece of paper.
"If you need help, call me," he said. "Or come to the community house. We have tools."
Ren took it.
"…thank you."
Daichi gave a small nod, then returned to the truck.
The engine started again.
rrrr…
And slowly faded away.
Ren stood there for a moment.
Then stepped forward.
The gate opened with a long, dry creak.
creeeak—
The front door resisted slightly before giving way.
thunk…
A stale smell drifted out.
Closed air.
Dust.
Old wood.
Ren paused at the entrance.
Light entered in thin lines through small gaps in the shutters, cutting across the floor.
Dust floated in those beams, slow and steady.
"…yeah."
He stepped inside.
Each footstep echoed softly.
tok… tok…
Furniture sat under layers of dust. Some were covered with cloth, others were left exposed.
The air felt heavier inside.
Still.
Unmoved.
He walked through one room.
Then another.
No hurry.
Just observing.
"Well… It's not badly damaged or anything, but yeah… it definitely needs a lot of cleaning.
Maybe some proper renovation too. First things first, I need to find a room I can actually live in—at least until I get the rest of this place sorted."
At the back, he found a small storage space.
The door slid open roughly.
scrrk—
Inside—
Tools.
Old.
Worn.
But arranged.
A toolbox.
A hammer.
A shovel leaning against the wall.
Ren picked up the hammer.
Dust brushed off easily.
"…still usable."
He wiped it lightly with a cloth.
For a moment, he looked at it.
"…grandfather probably used this."
The thought stayed briefly.
Quiet.
Then passed.
He set it aside.
Ren returned to the main room.
Placed his bag down.
Rolled up his sleeves.
"…start here."
"First, he went around and opened every window and door, letting the fresh air slowly fill the house."
He pushed one open.
click… creak…
Fresh air entered slowly.
The stillness shifted.
Dust moved.
Next—clearing.
He brushed off surfaces.
Moved small items aside.
Swept sections of the floor.
shh… shh…
Each movement is steady.
Measured.
No rush.
Time passed quietly.
Gradually—
A part of the wooden floor appeared beneath the dust.
Light reached further inside now.
Ren stepped back slightly.
Looked at the cleared space.
"…better."
Not clean.
Not finished.
Just… visible.
The sunlight had softened.
Shadows stretched longer across the floor.
Ren stood in the middle of the room, breathing lightly.
The rest of the house remained untouched.
Waiting.
He looked at it once.
Then back at the small cleaned section.
"…this is fine."
A short pause.
No sense of completion.
"I'm not even tired… just hungry. Guess survival instincts are doing their job."
By the time he stopped for the day, the light had already begun to fade. The room wasn't finished—just cleared enough to sit without dust rising at every step.
He opened his bag and pulled out what he had picked up before leaving the city—instant noodles, a bottle of water, nothing more. The small stove took longer than expected to work, the flame uneven, unfamiliar.
He ate quietly, sitting near the open window, the evening air moving through the room. It wasn't good, and it wasn't meant to be.
For now, it was enough.
"Alright… this should do for tonight."He spread the sheet, folded his jacket under his head, and lay down with a quiet sigh.
"Not exactly comfortable… but it works."He shifted slightly, staring at the ceiling.
"So this is it, huh… starting over."A faint breath escaped him."Let's see how long I last."
The room stayed silent, the night air brushing past him.
"…it's not that bad."
His thoughts slowed, words fading into half-formed murmurs—
"Tomorrow… I'll clean more… maybe…"
And before he could finish the thought, sleep quietly took over.
TO BE CONTINUED........