Noon light shattered countless times across the sea surface. Every time a white crest popped, fragments of light crawled over the plaster walls and rusted tin roofs of the port town.
A wet wind blew through.
The raw smell of the tide mixed with the heavy scent of machine oil and the sickly sweetness of rotting fruit, sticking deep in the nasal cavity.

Stalls occupied the center of the street. Wooden crates creaked; stacked barrels groaned low. The hard sound of metal plates clashing overlapped with the yelling of touts, beating against the eardrums.
In the vortex of this cluttered noise, the girl stopped.

Inside the basket hugged to her chest, a few coins felt cold against sweaty fingers.
On the crude table before her, red and orange fruits were piled haphazardly.
The girl’s eyes traced the outline of each one, staring hard enough to bore holes.

"Just looking, missy?"

The shopkeeper’s voice vibrated the air, thick with glue.
The girl’s shoulders jumped as if flicked.
Her lips parted slightly, sucking in only air before closing.
A sensation of sound getting stuck in her throat.
Her gaze sought an escape route and fell to the bottom of her basket.

From the edge of her vision, a stranger’s hand cut in.
The sensation of a finger poking her shoulder.

"Sorry. She doesn't really understand the language here yet."

The boy’s voice was light, like a dry wind.
The shopkeeper widened his eyes, then exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders and exhaled.

"I see. A traveler. Well then, remember my fruit before you go."

A large, knobby hand crawled quickly over the table.
Two red-skinned apples were snatched up and tossed into a rough cloth bag.
The boy took coins from a pouch at his waist, flicking them with a thumb to slide into the shopkeeper’s thick palm.

Clink.
The sound of metal rubbing dissolved into the dry air.

"Here. Go ahead."

The boy held one out.
When the girl opened her palm, the coldness of the fruit and a mass heavier than it looked sank into her wrist.
She rearranged her grip to cup it with both hands, tucked her chin, and gave a small bow.

Seeing her stiff neck, the boy showed his white teeth and laughed.

"In times like this, you say 'Thank you'."

The girl’s adam’s apple bobbed slightly up and down.
Her lips trembled, distorting as they tried to form a shape that wouldn't become sound.
The wind passed, roughly brushing hair from her cheek.
Her vocal cords did not vibrate, but the boy did not miss the slight loosening of her stiff fingertips.

"Yeah. You said it properly."

The boy said this and placed a hand on her head.
A casual weight and body heat.
The girl reflexively narrowed her eyes.
The shadows falling at their feet swayed in time with the red of the apple.

（scene break）

In the direction of the pier, a different rhythm beat the ground.
The sound of boots stomping on thick wooden planks; the creak of wet ropes being winched tight.
The heavy bass of a distant steam whistle physically vibrated the midday air.

Jack closed the cargo ledger, exhaled a long breath through his nose, and looked up.
Beyond the waves of passing laborers, there was a familiar, rock-like silhouette.

Thick hemp rope dug into his shoulder; a blackened net soaking up seawater hung from one hand.
Arm skin burnt by the sea breeze.
A coarse laugh squeezed from the back of a throat.

"...Hannes?"

When the name was called, the man’s neck turned.
After a blank second, the wrinkles all over his face deepened into a grin.

"Ooh, Jack! It’s been a while."

They stepped closer, reaching out.
Palm collided with palm—Whap—a dry, bursting sound rang out.
Immediately after, a grip strong enough to grind bone returned the pressure.

"Thought you settled down in the Capital."

"Settling down isn't my style. Came over on a ferry. Gotta see the face of the port once in a while."

Every time Hannes shook his shoulders, drops fell from the wet net, darkening the planks.
Contrary to his laughter, his eyeballs tracked the flow of surrounding ships and people as if licking them, without a shred of negligence.

"You haven't changed."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Cutting off their conversation, the sharp cry of a seagull tore overhead.
Sunlight burned the sea surface; the brightness blurred the edges of vision white.

That was when it happened.

Through the soles of their feet, an alien tremor transmitted itself.
At first, it was a vibration no different from someone rolling a heavy cart.
But the tremor didn't stop.
It crawled up from ankles to knees like an earth rumble.

Dududu, dudududu...
A drumming sound, like stone pavement being beaten by countless hammers.
Wooden crates resonated, rattling, and the buzz of the crowd spread like ripples.
The density of the air changed, turning viscous.

"Cows! The cows got loose!"

A tearing scream echoed off the curve of the harbor.
Turning to look, grey dust exploded at the far end of the street.

On the road, bright fruits were being miserably trampled.
The line of peaceful stalls was swallowed instantly by a violent riot.

Masses of meat weighing hundreds of kilos closed in, smashing the pavement with heavy hooves.
The ground undulated heavily; a vibration that shook internal organs ran through the area.
A herd of black cattle tore through stall canvas and flicked wooden crates into the sky like papercraft.

The girl hugging the basket stood rigid as a stone statue.
Her feet would not move, as if stitched to the ground.
In the corner of her vision, only the afterimages of people being knocked left and right with screams burned in.
The roars and sounds of destruction jumping into her ears became meaningless lumps of noise, paralyzing her brain.

"Get back!"

From the side, a vise-like force yanked her arm.
The boy forcibly pulled the girl’s body close.
Spinning with the momentum, he used his own back as a shield and covered her.

DOOOOM!

Right behind them, heat wind and mass rushed past.
The intense body odor of the beast and the sour smell of sweat pierced her nasal cavity.
Wind pressure made her hair stand on end; her eardrums popped with the change in air pressure.

"You okay?"

The boy’s voice in her ear was accompanied by rough breathing, but it contained a ring of amusement.
The girl lifted her face from within his arms.
Her heart beat a rapid rhythm, punching her ribs from the inside.
Her vision captured only the dirt on the boy’s shirt collar and his pulsing neck.

Just then, a man’s scream flew from the distance.

"Someone! Someone lend a hand!!"

A man who looked like a rancher ran up, face smeared with mud and sweat.
His eyes were bloodshot; his shirt was torn.

"Stop those cows! If this goes on, the port will be wrecked!"

The boy turned his neck toward the man while keeping one hand on the girl’s shoulder.
He narrowed his eyes, flashed his teeth in the dust, and gave a thumbs up.

"Leave it to me!"

No sooner had he spoken than his body shot forward like a released spring.
Sole rubber shaved the stone pavement; a whirlwind slapped the girl’s cheek.
He felt the presence of the girl reaching out to say something behind him, but there was no time to look back.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

He threw the words over his shoulder.
He didn't know if they reached her.
Even so, only the trembling of the girl’s thin arm remaining on his palm burned strangely vivid in his memory.

（scene break）

At the pier, the world had turned upside down.

"Right side, Hannes!"

At Jack’s sharp warning, Hannes’s body twisted reflexively.
Immediately after, a black giant charged in, pulverizing a mountain of stacked liquor barrels.

Crack-snap!
Wood chips flew like shuriken; a taut rope screamed and snapped.
Hannes shifted his footing instantly, but the plank beneath him was rotten and gave way.
Obeying gravity, his body was thrown toward the sea.

ZAPPAAAAN!!

The water surface exploded; a wall of cold, heavy seawater surged up over the pier.
Jack slid behind a crate on the opposite side, guarding his head with both arms.
Falling seawater lashed his back.

"...He fell."

He muttered to no one.
After a few seconds of silence, a face surfaced from the bubbling sea with a furious "Bwah!"

"Dammit... Just got to town and this is the welcome I get!?"

Hannes, with seaweed on his head, slapped the water surface and cursed.
His face, wet with saltwater, was indignant, but amusing wrinkles were carved into the corners of his eyes.

Ahead of his gaze, the roar of hooves continued.
People scattered like baby spiders, and the crying of a child leaked from a collapsed pile of luggage.

Into the midst of that chaos, a single shadow slid in like a gale.

"Whoa, they're really going at it..."

The boy, grey with sand and dust, kicked the pier railing and vaulted onto it.
Without stopping his feet, he surveyed the situation with a lightness as if a road existed in mid-air.

"...Huh? It's Hannes."

He locked eyes with the man soaking in the sea.
The boy looked blank for a moment, then immediately adopted the face of a child planning a prank.

"Did you swim from the Capital by any chance? Ship get stolen? You should probably report that to the guard station, you know?"

"Why the hell would I do that!"

At the roar from the sea, Jack snorted and laughed.
The sound of water dripping from wet ropes beat a rhythm mixed with the waves.

The boy shrugged and pointed his thumb back toward the street.

"Sitrep: As you can see. Take care of Salt."

Before he finished speaking, his body had already reversed.
Soles kicked hard against the railing, accelerating.
By the time Hannes opened his mouth, the boy’s back had already vanished beyond the dust.

"...He never changes, does he."

Hannes pulled his heavy body onto the pier with a wry smile.
Jack also stood up, roughly brushing wood chips from his clothes.

From the entrance of the street, light pat-pat-pat footsteps approached.
The girl ran up, breathing disordered.
Inside the basket she hugged, coins continued to click and clack like a warning signal.

Breathing with her shoulders, she found Jack at the end of her gaze and rushed over, almost stumbling.

"Hah... hah... ...Pain."

She called the name with a raspy voice.
Jack silently pointed his thumb toward the back of the port, the epicenter of the noise.

"As you see."

The girl’s body tried to move in that direction reflexively.
Jack’s hand shot out, grabbing her collar from behind like a cat.

"Guh."

A strange sound leaked out, and the girl’s legs spun in the air before stopping.
She puffed out her cheeks and looked up at Jack with protesting eyes.
Jack didn't change his expression and spoke flatly.

"You won't catch him. He throws away the brakes somewhere the moment he starts running."

He released her collar and placed a large, rugged hand on her pouting head.
At a nearby stall, the proprietress was protecting her trade goods even while her legs gave out.
Jack approached the shop and held up one finger.

"One of these."

A freshly cracked coconut.
A straw pierced it, transparent water swaying inside.

"Drink."

The girl snorted in dissatisfaction but accepted it with both hands.
She brought her lips to the straw and sucked up a mouthful.
Cold liquid slid down her throat, healing the burnt thirst.
The sweet scent washed away the smell of the beast remaining in her nose.

Hannes approached, wringing out his clothes like a rag.
Wet boots made squelch, squelch sounds, creating puddles on the pier.

"And the little miss is?"

"The runaway train picked up a mountain cat," Jack grinned.

"What's that mean?"

Hannes burst out laughing and looked down at the girl.
His eyes appraised the girl’s stance, center of gravity, and stiff fingertips faster than any words could be exchanged.

"So he abandoned the passenger and is currently speeding away? That train's going to the terminal station."

"Yeah. No doubt."

The girl took a half-step back, distancing herself from the seawater-smelling man.
However, her skin reacted to the strange calm radiating from the two men standing on either side of her.
Only around them, the world’s shaking seemed to have stopped.

Hannes suddenly opened his mouth as if remembering something.

"By the way, I heard a rumor. Gold was found northwest of Mu. ...Along with stories of talking dead men."

The moment those words dropped, the girl’s shoulders jumped violently.
Strength flooded into the fingers holding the coconut; the shell fibers made a crack sound.
As if cold water had been poured down her spine, her body temperature was stolen instantly.

Jack glared at Hannes silently.
That gaze was sharp as a knife, telling him to shut up.

Hannes exhaled awkwardly and scratched his head with a wet hand.

"Ah, my bad. Weird joke. Forget it."

What he spoke of next was a story about how cow meat is incredibly tough and hard to chew—a topic that truly didn't matter.