The platform had no roof. Ash continued to fall. Fine, light, and utterly silent.
It gathered on Koyoi’s shoulders and hair, and left grey mottling across Asahi’s black robes. The stone paving of the platform was so buried in ash that its color was lost. Each step felt like dry powder clinging to the soles of their boots.
The train doors hissed shut.
Behind them, the iron hull began to move, sliding away into the mist and ash. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels grew distant, then vanished entirely.
A profound silence descended. It was a hush so deep that not even the falling ash could be heard.
"...Nothing here."
Asahi scanned their surroundings.
Through the mist, a row of low stone buildings was visible beyond the platform. But no light shone from the windows, and no smoke rose from the chimneys. The very outlines of the structures were blurred, as if they were dissolving into the fog and the falling ash.
Kuon activated his artificial eye.
A single line of cerulean light pierced the gloom, scanning the area. Where the beam touched, the ash scattered for a fleeting second, revealing the bare stone beneath. But the moment the light passed, the ash drifted back down to reclaim the surface.
"...The center of Churyo lies to the northeast. There is a hill there, known as Kasumidai. If we climb it, we can get a sense of the town’s layout."
"Are we going now?"
"Moving at night isn't wise. The ash thickens, and the eye’s visibility drops. We wait until morning."
Kuon was being uncharacteristically cautious.
In Tomi-machi, he had been in a constant hurry; here, he chose to sacrifice an entire night. Something about the nature of Churyo had clearly made caution necessary.
The three of them left the platform and walked toward the nearest building. Every step left a clear mark in the deep ash; looking back, three sets of footprints trailed behind them in a single file.
They were the only evidence that humans existed here.
The door to the building was ajar. It wasn't locked; the hinges had simply rusted over, frozen in a half-open position. When pushed, it moved with a low, grinding groan.
Inside was dark.
Kuon’s blue light swept from the entrance into the depths, revealing a simple wooden desk, two chairs, and a wooden shelf against the wall. That was all. There was nothing on the shelves. Nothing on the desk.
It didn't look as though the room had been cleared out—it looked as though nothing had ever been placed there to begin with.
A thin layer of ash coated the interior, having drifted in through the gaps in the door. It was thinner than outside, however.
Breathing became a little easier.
Asahi closed the door and leaned his sword against the wall. The hilt struck the wood with a sharp, hard sound. The noise echoed through the room before being swallowed by the stillness.
"...We stay here until morning."
Kuon placed the Catalog upon the desk. As he opened it, a faint golden light bathed the room. But the glow was less than half the strength it had possessed in Tomi-machi.
The Catalog’s power was being dampened by the very laws of this land. Koyoi sat in a chair, resting her drawstring pouch on her lap. The gods within were silent.
When they had left Tomi-machi, they had been pulsing with a gentle rhythm. But since arriving in Churyo, Shizuku—the essence of the Rain God—had barely moved. Not dead. Just submerged deep within.
Perhaps the very air of this place was trying to lull the gods into a permanent sleep.
"...Are you okay?"
Koyoi whispered to the pouch. There was no answer.
Then, just once, the Rain God’s essence flared with a faint, fleeting warmth before fading again. I’m here. I’m still here.
Outside the window, the ash continued to fall. It had formed a thin film over the glass, completely obscuring the world outside. Asahi sat with his back against the wall, legs stretched out.
His eyes were closed, but his right hand remained resting on the hilt of his sword. He wasn't sleeping; he was resting his body while his ears stayed alert.
Kuon used his blue light to illuminate the pages of the Catalog, trying to read something from them. But the characters on the page were blurred, refusing to come into focus even under the glow. Whether it was the influence of the ash or the laws of Churyo interfering with the Catalog’s function, it was hard to say.
Kuon didn't click his tongue in frustration. He simply traced his fingers over the pages, following the "scent" of the fading text.
A long while passed. Kuon finally closed the Catalog.
The blue light died, and the room plunged back into darkness.
"...Tomorrow, we climb Kasumidai. From there, we’ll determine Churyo’s structure and identify the locations needed for verification. We’re short on time. We move as soon as it’s light."
"Understood."
"...Yeah."
Asahi answered without opening his eyes. Koyoi clutched the pouch to her chest and leaned back against the chair. The wood creaked softly.
The smell of ash clung to the back of her throat, refusing to go away.
Closing her eyes, she thought of the hole in the back alley of Tomi-machi.
The names that had been so carefully, tenderly protected at the bottom of that dark pit. Was there a record in this town that someone had tried to save? Or were the records that reached this place destined to be guarded by no one?
The only sound in the night was the faint, constant tapping of ash against the windowpane.
Relying on the faint warmth of the pouch, Koyoi drifted into a shallow sleep.