I remember sailing on this same boat, all those years ago. The trip to Ritou was uneventful. As I stepped onto the docks, a familiar face greeted me—Nakano, an Officer of the Kanjou Commission. I greeted him warmly, and he in kind.
>Are you enjoying the view?
I asked.
>Yes. I enjoy watching this ocean and the sunshine every day. You're still young, so you probably don't know yet. The scenery you'll see in your forties won't really be that much different from the stuff you're seeing in your twenties.
>Seeing how the sun rises from the east, sets in the west, and how the tides flow this way and that, I feel like I can understand the Eternity that the Almighty Shogun is pursuing...
Hardly had his words escaped his lips before I was struck with a peculiar, unexplainable feeling. I could feel my heart grow cold in an instant, beating sharply in my chest—but as for why, I cannot say. It was only three years ago that I spoke to Nakano, awe-struck by the then-wondrous scenery of the Inazuman archipelago.

I left in a daze. Indeed, Inazuma remained unchanged. Yet, as I looked in the gleaming puddles of lamplit ran and reflective glass of storefront grocers, the face that stared back was not that same one that greeted Nakano. It was not the same face that once smiled at the joy of this world. Would Yoimiya recognize it? All of the joviality from this week's summer celebration left me, and I slept in fits at an old inn by the wayside.