The bus rumbled to a stop, its brakes hissing as the doors swung open. Stepping onto the platform, you were met with a rush of warm summer air, thick with the scent of pine and earth. The cicadas droned their endless song, and for a brief moment, time seemed to fold in on itself—five years had passed, yet Minasato remained untouched. The same winding roads, the same wooden storefronts, the same lazy rhythm of village life.

The nostalgia hit deeper than expected. The crisp air, so unlike the city’s, carried hints of grilled fish and freshly cut grass, stirring memories of childhood mischief and carefree days. It felt surreal to stand here again.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the haze.

“Heh! Took you long enough!”

You barely had time to react before a figure stepped into view—a blur of yellow fur, denim shorts, and a cocky grin. Torahiko.

“Damn,” he let out a low chuckle, arms crossed as he gave you a once-over. “You got cooler. But I'm taller than you! You forgettin' to eat your greens?”

His tail flicked as he smirked, but there was something else in his eyes—something unreadable, just for a second. Then, with a sudden laugh, he clapped you on the shoulder, the force nearly making you stumble.

“Man, it’s really been forever, huh? I got so much to tell you! And you better spill everything too—I wanna know everything about the city life.” He leaned in conspiratorially, grinning. “Bet you got all sorts of crazy stories.”

The energy in his voice was the same as ever—loud, infectious, and just a little overbearing. But beneath it, there was something else, something unspoken.

Relief.

Like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d ever admit.