The Faded Road
The silence in the back office of the Tōhoku Prefectural Police Station was not empty, but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the eardrums like deep water. Michiko Nakagawa sat at the scarred oak desk, the grain worn smooth by decades of elbows and spilled coffee, and stared at the cracked leather of her service badge. It was a relic, a thing she had kept long after the official...
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