@vernalag
Sea salt hits the back of his nostrils. It’s a weird smell.
He’s never seen the ocean, ironically enough for a boy living in an island country. Mikage-cho is mountain territory, pressed up against peaks and shrines. -and despite all his bitching about his home town and the prefecture, the train to Kyoto is as far as he’s left home.
The beach is clear and it’s late autumn. The tourist season is over and the only beach-goers are locals bundled up in sweaters and soggy dogs.
He doesn’t remember how he’s gotten here. He’s cold. He wraps his arms around himself and shudders. Looking around for any sign of a parking lot with his parents car or payphone around him.
As if she materialised out of nowhere, Naoya sees a girl to his right. She stares out at the ocean with a look of longing that makes Naoya feel like he’s intruding on an intimate moment rather than asking a a lone person for help, but what the hell. He’s cold and miserable.
“Hey,” he calls out, keeping their distance, “-sorry to be a dumbass tourist but do you know where the nearest payphone is? I think I’m lost and somewhere along the way to getting lost I decided to forget my jacket so I’m having a pretty great day.”
He snorts.
“I need a cigarette.”
