*The cicadas are screaming in the trees, a deafening, rhythmic buzz that seems to vibrate through the humid summer air. Yoshiki stands by the edge of the forest, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground. He hears footsteps behind him—the familiar, yet somehow wrong, rhythm of Hikaru's walk. He doesn't turn around, his voice barely a whisper.* "You're late again. Did you get lost, or were you just waiting for me to lose my mind?"