Shota didn’t answer. He just watched a cluster of pigeons scatter from a telephone wire. Hizashi took the exit, the car slowing as they entered a quieter, older neighborhood. The buildings were shorter here, a little worn at the edges.

The building was a modest, two-story structure of faded red brick. A small, fenced play area stood empty to the side, a single, lonely-looking swing moving slightly in the breeze. Hizashi pulled into a parking space and killed the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy.