The last train never truly ends—not for Tono Akane, anyway. Trapped in a dead-end job that's slowly hollowing her out, she boards the familiar late-night train home, numb to everything but the rhythmic sway of the carriage. But tonight, the train doesn't stop. The passengers don't move. Her phone shows no signal, frozen at a time that never changes. And on the route map above her, glowing faintly in a script no train line should display, is the name of a station that was erased from existence ye
Route Map Without a Terminal - The Origin of the Yamiyami Line, the Curse of the Yomi Boundary
The train pushed on into the depths of the dark.
Outside the windows, nothing was visible anymore. The scenery had vanished long ago; beyond the glass lay only solid black. Now and then that blackness stirred faintly—countless mouths opening and closing. Akane looked away from the window. Staring too long, she felt, and it would swallow her whole.
The fluorescent lights inside the car flickered faintly.
Akane glanced at the profile of Yagami Anzu standing beside her. Dark brown hair gathered at the back of her head, and beneath the conductor's cap, black eyes radiating a fierce will, fixed straight ahead. White gloves on both hands. Her back was straight, her body utterly still. It was a stance that brought a solemn tension to the space—hard to believe she was only nineteen.
(This person hasn't changed either, since that night.)
Akane was remembering something from a few months ago. The night she'd leapt onto the last train. A line that shouldn't exist. The pinky promise with Mio. And this young conductor, who had pushed her back into reality.
Perhaps sensing Akane's gaze, Yagami tilted her head slightly.
"Is something the matter, passenger?"
Akane shook her head a little.
"No. ...I was just remembering that night."
Yagami started to say something, then closed her mouth. Only the sound of the wheels striking the rails echoed in steady rhythm. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. To Akane, that sound felt strangely distant.
"There is also something I must tell you, passenger."
Yagami's voice was clear and resonant, like a station announcement. And yet, somewhere in it, there was a heaviness. Akane looked at Yagami's face once more.
"Why I serve as the conductor of this Yamiyo Line. You have the right to know."
Akane nodded silently.
Yagami placed her hand on the door of the conductor's cabin. She inserted an old key and turned it slowly. A dry click sounded.
"This way."
Akane followed Yagami into the conductor's cabin. It was a cramped room. An old route map was plastered across one entire wall. It wasn't the familiar Shirami Private Railway map. Station names were blurred here and there, unreadable. Kuchinashi-dai. Aoi-ga-Oka. Only those two stood out clearly.
Yagami pointed at the map on the wall.
"This is the true route map of the Yamiyo Line. It should look a little different from the one you saw before."
Akane peered at the map.
(The stations... there are more of them.)
Kuchinashi-dai. Aoi-ga-Oka. Beyond them, faintly, dimly, a number of station names were surfacing. The characters were blurred and unreadable. But they were definitely there.
"There are station names I can't read."
"Yes. Those are stations that don't yet belong to anyone's memory. Perhaps someone will create them from now on. Or perhaps they've already been created, and this is what remains."
Yagami turned toward Akane.
"Passenger. I became the conductor of this Yamiyo Line at nineteen. In the real Shirami Private Railway's employment records, my name does not exist. No one remembers me."
Akane let Yagami's words settle slowly into her chest.
(No one remembers her.)
It was the same as Mio. Mio, too, had vanished from Akane's memory. Unrecognized by anyone, stripped of the foundation of her existence, transformed into something shadow-like.
"I, too, am one of the forgotten."
Yagami's voice was quiet. A flat voice, as though she had crushed down her emotions. But beneath it, Akane sensed something that had been hardened over a long, long time.
"Like you, passenger, I once boarded the Yamiyo Line. And I chose to return to reality. But as the price, my existence in the real world disappeared."
Akane caught her breath.
"The price..."
"Yes. To return from the Yamiyo Line to reality, you must give something up. In my case, my very existence faded from the real world. My family, my friends—no one remembers me. No family register, no records, nothing at all."
Yagami looked down at her own gloved hands.
"Even so, I am here. As a conductor, I protect the passengers. Because this is the only place where I can be of use to anyone."
Yagami raised her head. Her black eyes looked straight at Akane.
"Passenger. You are the first person I have ever met who returned from the Yamiyo Line. And not only that—you came back here again, by your own will."
Akane repeated Yagami's words in her mind.
(I'm the first.)
That night, Akane had called Mio's name. The heat of the pinky promise had pushed her back into reality. But it wasn't Akane's strength alone. Mio—and Hinata—had shaved away their own existence to send Akane back. Yagami had given her the key to the conductor's cabin. A station attendant named Miyata had told her there was no terminal.
Akane saw in Yagami's profile a loneliness of the same kind as her own.
(This person, too—all alone, all this time.)
Unremembered by anyone, unrecognized by anyone, and still she had kept protecting passengers as the conductor of the Yamiyo Line.
"Yagami-san."
Akane spoke quietly.
"You saved me. That night, if you hadn't given me the key, I never would have remembered Mio's name. I never would have made it back to reality."
Yagami's eyes widened slightly.
"So this time, I want to be the one who helps you. Please, tell me what you know."
Yagami gazed at Akane's face for a while. Then, faintly, the corners of her mouth softened.
"...You really are a strong person, passenger."
Yagami turned back toward the route map.
"I'll tell you. The old legend hidden within this Yamiyo Line."
Yagami pointed at a single spot on the map. Between Kuchinashi-dai and Aoi-ga-Oka. Only there, the tracks were painted over in black.
"This is the Yomotsu-Sakai."
Akane's heart gave a heavy throb.
"The Yomotsu-Sakai—the boundary between life and death. Long ago, a train that ran through this section produced a great number of missing persons."
Yagami's voice was matter-of-fact. That, somehow, made it all the more terrifying to Akane.
"It was no accident. The passengers were drawn to the other side. Their souls were devoured by something that dwells in the Yomotsu-Sakai. Since then, the Yomotsu-Sakai has been strictly controlled, and entry has been forbidden."
Akane swallowed. Her throat was terribly dry.
"This Yamiyo Line runs along tracks laid over the Yomotsu-Sakai. Overlapping with the real Shirami Private Railway's lines. That's why, when the Yomotsu-Sakai awakens, it affects the real Shirami Line as well."
Yagami turned toward Akane.
"Passenger. The heat of the pinky promise that remains in your right hand—it grows stronger the closer you come to the Yomotsu-Sakai. And when that heat disappears, you will be swallowed by the Yomotsu-Sakai."
Akane looked down at her right hand. Her little finger carried a faint heat. That summer promise she had exchanged with Mio. I will never forget. That heat was what kept her tethered to reality.
"...I understand."
Akane nodded.
"Even so, I'm going. I want to see Mio."
Yagami watched Akane in silence. Something wavered in her eyes.
"I will go with you, passenger."
With that, Yagami took an old ledger from the back of the conductor's cabin. Its cover was worn, its pages yellowed.
"This is what remains of the Yamiyo Line's old passenger register. From the era when the Yomotsu-Sakai was still under control."
Yagami held the ledger out to Akane. Akane took it. It was heavy in her hands. When she turned the pages, countless names lined the paper. Faded characters. Ink on the verge of vanishing. Some names were legible; others had been erased completely.
"Everyone listed here was swallowed by the Yomotsu-Sakai. People who vanished completely—from the real world, and from memory alike."
Akane's hand stopped turning the pages.
(These people had families. Friends. People they loved.)
All of it gone. Their very existence.
"But there is one name in this register that appears again and again."
Yagami opened the ledger to its final page. There, in trembling handwriting, was written:
Miyata Shinji.
"Miyata... Shinji."
Akane read the name aloud.
"Yes. An old station attendant at Shirami Central Station. He was watching over this line long before I came here."
A certain man's face rose in Akane's mind. Short hair streaked with white. A station attendant's cap pulled low. Gentle, down-turned eyes. An old station attendant whose fingertips had been worn white by ticket paper. At that dawn, at the first-train ticket gate, he had told Akane:
That thing has no terminal, you know.
(It's him.)
Akane was certain. That station attendant—Miyata Shinji. He knew about the Yamiyo Line. No—more than knew. He had been watching over it for years.
"I'm going to see Miyata-san."
Akane clutched the ledger to her chest.
"To the real Shirami Central Station."
Yagami nodded quietly.
"Passenger. Let us return to reality by dawn. We can meet again the next night."
Akane nodded at Yagami's words.
(Miyata-san. What is it that you know?)
A slow heat spread through Akane's right hand.
────────
Morning light was streaming into the station building.
Akane stood before the ticket gate of Shirami Central Station. Commuters hurried past. Company workers in suits, students, housewives carrying shopping bags. Everyone walking through their own everyday. Until just a few months ago, Akane had been one of them.
But not anymore.
Akane searched for the station attendant. Beside the ticket gate, in front of the information board, by the platform stairs. Nowhere was there any sign of the old attendant.
(He's not here.)
Akane stood before the station office. She pressed the intercom. After a moment, a young station attendant appeared.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for a station attendant named Miyata Shinji."
The young attendant tilted his head.
"Miyata? ...We don't have anyone by that name working here."
Akane's chest went cold.
(He's not here?)
"But a few months ago, at first-train time, I saw him at the ticket gate. An older attendant, with graying hair."
The young attendant frowned, troubled.
"Hmm... I've been with the company three years now, but I've never seen an older attendant like that. Want me to ask the others?"
Akane shook her head slightly.
"No, that's all right. Thank you."
Akane left the station office.
(Is Miyata-san one of the forgotten, too?)
Like Yagami. Like Mio. Had Miyata Shinji also vanished from the records of reality? Or was there some other reason?
Akane stood rooted before the ticket gate.
That was when it happened.
"Hey there, miss."
A low, weary voice came from behind her.
Akane turned around.
There stood Miyata Shinji. Short hair streaked with white. A station attendant's cap pulled low. Wrinkles around his eyes. Fingertips worn white by ticket paper. The same figure as that dawn.
"Miyata-san..."
Miyata stared hard at Akane's face. Then his gaze dropped to her right hand.
"...So it's you after all."
Miyata's voice was low and heavy.
"Come with me."
Miyata began walking toward the back of the station. Akane followed in silence.
Behind the station building, in a deserted alley. Miyata stopped. He turned and looked straight into Akane's eyes.
"You rode the Yamiyo Line again, didn't you."
Akane nodded.
"Yes. By my own will."
Miyata let out a deep sigh.
"What a foolish thing to do."
"Foolish or not, I don't care. I don't believe that night was a dream. I want to see Mio."
Akane's voice did not tremble.
Miyata looked at Akane's right hand. Her little finger carried a faint heat. It seemed Miyata could see it.
"...That pinky-promise heat. Still hasn't faded, has it."
"No. It hasn't. It's the promise I made with Mio."
After a long silence, Miyata opened his heavy mouth, as though he had given in.
"No one who has crossed the Yomotsu-Sakai has ever come back. You might be the first."
Miyata fixed his eyes on Akane.
"If you're that resolved, then I'll at least hear you out."
Akane straightened her back.
"Please."
Miyata leaned against the station wall. The morning light illuminated
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