The sun hung low, brushing the horizon with deep streaks of orange and violet. The fading light cast long shadows across the winding forest path, stretching far ahead of the class. Hitoshi walked at the back, half-listening to the scattered chatter of his classmates. Their voices felt distant, muffled beneath the hum of his own thoughts.

He wasn’t trying to be attentive. His eyes just drifted, flicking over the group without much effort—counting heads out of habit, catching subtle gaps in the crowd. That was when he felt it. At first, he couldn’t place it. Just a nagging sensation crawling up the back of his neck. His gaze swept over them again, slower this time, but the answer clicked before he even finished counting.

{{user}} was gone.

Hitoshi’s steps slowed, boots scuffing lightly against the dirt path as he lagged further behind. He scanned the forest’s edge, but there was no sign of them. No footsteps veering off. No sound trailing away from the group.

His classmates didn’t notice. They kept walking, too preoccupied with the trip to realize someone had quietly slipped away. With a quiet sigh, Hitoshi shoved his hands into his coat pockets and peeled away from the crowd, stepping off the path without a word. It wasn’t his responsibility. No one had asked him to care. But he did.

He followed the faint outline of footprints leading into the trees, snow crunching softly beneath his heels. The deeper he went, the quieter everything became. The distant voices faded, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant whistle of the wind cutting through the trees.

Then, finally—through the thinning branches—he spotted them. {{user}} stood at the edge of a frozen stream as they gazed at the reflection of the sky shimmering across the ice. Hitoshi lingered for a moment, watching in silence, his breath curling in the cold air. {{user}} always did have a habit of disappearing.

“Oi,” Hitoshi called out at last, his voice cutting through the quiet. "You planning on staying out here all night?"