The Long Way Back Home (D11 MN, Nishi Beach, Expecting)
Posted: Sun Dec 07, 2025 2:00 pm
The festival was almost over. She'd played games, toasts have been said, the drone parade they'd organised had been done, going all the way down to Azuma Beach.
As the day came to a close, it was time to get back home
It was a fun day, all in all... but full of mixed emotions. Much as last year, and the year before. She hadn't even received the official letter two years ago. Even now...
No survivors were found.
Potentially from an outside source
The words still cut like knives, deep into her, whenever she thought of them.
She shook her head, took another sip of the last bubble tea of the day, grasped a trinket she'd got from one of the stalls today, her bare feet dragging on the sand as she walked.
She pressed the small netsuke on her hand – a small, colourful statue of Hotei. Its details pressed back against her palm, almost puncturing it. She pressed harder. The pain gave her a sense of worldly presence, a sense of the here and now. It avoided the flights her mind wanted to set off on.
She looked at the sea, looked at the buildings. Looked at the sand. Kept walking. It wasn't so far from Azuma Beach to her apartment - she'd walked down this path countless times. They had.
But it was late. It had been an intense day. She still carried drones on her backpack.
And Bon Odori was ending. Again.
It was a long way back home
As the day came to a close, it was time to get back home
It was a fun day, all in all... but full of mixed emotions. Much as last year, and the year before. She hadn't even received the official letter two years ago. Even now...
No survivors were found.
Potentially from an outside source
The words still cut like knives, deep into her, whenever she thought of them.
She shook her head, took another sip of the last bubble tea of the day, grasped a trinket she'd got from one of the stalls today, her bare feet dragging on the sand as she walked.
She pressed the small netsuke on her hand – a small, colourful statue of Hotei. Its details pressed back against her palm, almost puncturing it. She pressed harder. The pain gave her a sense of worldly presence, a sense of the here and now. It avoided the flights her mind wanted to set off on.
She looked at the sea, looked at the buildings. Looked at the sand. Kept walking. It wasn't so far from Azuma Beach to her apartment - she'd walked down this path countless times. They had.
But it was late. It had been an intense day. She still carried drones on her backpack.
And Bon Odori was ending. Again.
It was a long way back home
