There's no women in this Island village

You curse your luck as the boat’s engine fades into the fog, leaving only water and silence behind. Of all the assignments, it had to be this, an island barely worth a footnote in a budget report. A year, they said. Routine oversight. Paperwork, compliance, signatures. You tell yourself it’s temporary. Keep your head down. File the reports. Leave.

Still, as you drag your carrier and step onto the lone dock, you’re already counting the days you haven’t lived yet dreaming of going back to the familiarity of concrete buildings, bustling city noise, and the crowds of people. Anywhere but here. All you want is to finish this assignment and get out as soon as humanly possible.

you check your phone to see if there is any cell service, none, no wi-fi, nothing, The island feels less remote than, sealed. Like an old relic preserved too carefully

Masaru: “Ah, there you are.”

A gentle voice, the kind that is meant to put people at ease is heard from behind you.

An old man steps forward from the path leading up from the dock, posture straight, hands clasped neatly behind his back

Masaru: “Welcome to our humble village. I’m Masaru Kido, the village head.”

He smiles, politely.

Masaru: “I hope my son’s driving didn’t trouble you. We don’t receive visitors often, certainly not government officials at that.”

He inclines his head, already turning as though your answer is just a formality.

Masaru: “Please, come. Everyone is eager to meet you. You must be hungry.”

Masaru leads you along the narrow stone path, his pace unhurried, perfectly matched to yours without ever glancing back.

Masaru: “So..”

He begins lightly, as if discussing the weather

Masaru: “you’re very young to be sent all the way out here.”

His gaze flicks to you, assessing.

Masaru: “No wife? No sweetheart waiting for you on the mainland?”

You answer quietly.

you: "No"

Masaru hums, as if lost in thought.

Masaru: “Administrative work in a place like this can be… isolating. Long stays, few visitors. Especially for someone without close ties pulling them back."

His smile returns, calm and unreadable.

Masaru: “But perhaps that makes you adaptable.”

The communal hall comes into view, lanterns glowing.

Masaru: “And your parents?”

Masaru asks gently

Masaru: “Are they still alive?”

You glance at him for a brief moment before answering quietly.

you: “No. They passed away not too long ago. A car accident… after I passed the civil service exam”

Masaru stops walking.

For a moment so brief you almost miss it something shifts in his expression. Not shock. Not pity. Calculation. Then it smooths over, warm and paternal, and he turns to face you fully

Masaru: “Oh... I’m very sorry to hear that dear”

He places a hand lightly against his chest, his voice lowered in sympathy.

Masaru: “That must be incredibly difficult. To lose your family at such a young age.”

He steps closer, close enough that you catch the faint scent of incense clinging to his clothes.

Masaru: “But perhaps, while you are here...”

Masaru says gently

Masaru: “we can be your family.”

He smiles again, calm and reassuring

Masaru: “Our village is small, yes, but we take care of our own.”

He gestures toward the glowing hall ahead, where silhouettes move behind paper doors.

Masaru slides the doors open.

Warm light spills out, along with the low murmur of voices that stop all at once the moment you step inside.

The communal hall is larger than you expected. Tatami mats are laid with care, a long low table already prepared with food and tea. Men of varying ages sit neatly along the sides, their heads turning in near-perfect unison. Smiles appear, polite, measured, practiced.

Masaru: “This is our new government liaison, Mister you, he’ll be assisting us with administrative matters for some time.”

He guides you forward with a light, guiding hand at your back.

A man near the front rises slim lean built, composed, with sharp yet tired observant eyes that linger a moment too long on you.

Masaru: “This is Dr. Shun Arai, our physician.”

Shun bows his head slightly, his gaze unreadable.

Shun: “You look a bit thin… We’ll be sure to fix that."

His tone is calm, clinical rather than comforting. His eyes assess you openly, as if taking quiet inventory

Beside him sits a man closer to your age, broadly built, posture relaxed but attentive, expression bright and welcoming.

Masaru: “This is Toru, my nephew. He handles village records and coordination. He’ll be your primary contact while you’re here and will help you settle in.”

Toru smiles widely as he adjusts his glasses.

Toru: “I’m really glad to finally meet you.”

Masaru gestures to an empty space at the table, expression mildly puzzled as he looks around.

Toru: “Our police chief, Reiji, sends his apologies. Duty keeps him away tonight.”

Several men nod in quiet agreement.

You sit.

The doors slide shut behind you with a soft, final sound.

Before any questions are asked, the welcoming begins.

Hands moved with quiet efficiency as a wooden cup is pressed into yours, warm and faintly sweet, something fermented, homemade.

You’re urged to drink, gently but insistently, and after the first sip comes another refill, then another. Laughter loosens the air. Only once the bottles are half-empty and cheeks faintly flushed does the conversation drift toward practical things.

That’s when you clear your throat.

you: “Uh… I noticed on the way in, there’s no cell service... At all.”

you say carefully, fingers warm and tingling from the drink

A brief pause. Then Masaru smiles.

Masaru: “Yes. The signal here can be very weak. We’re far from the mainland towers.”

Toru nods eagerly.

Toru: “We’re used to it. If we need to send anything important, we use the post office.”

you: “Post office?”

Masaru: “My son, Hiroto, the one who brought you to the island? He handles deliveries. Once a week. Weather permitting.”

He explains it smoothly, like a routine detail.

The fact lands heavier than it should.

Your eyes drift around the hall again. The men. The work-worn hands. The deep voices. The complete absence of women.

you: “…Is everyone here a man?”

This time, the pause is longer.

Shun folds his hands in his lap.

Shun: “There used to be women.”

Masaru continues, as if completing a well-worn sentence.

Masaru: “Several years ago, a sudden illness spread through the island. No warning. No survivors.”

Toru’s smile softens into practiced sympathy.

Toru: “It was very hard on the village.”

Around you, heads bow and cups are lifted in their memory.

The explanation settles over the room like a heavy fog but it doesn't sit quite right

Masaru claps his hands softly, the sound gentle but final, as if to move past the subject quickly.

Masaru: “Before we finish, there are a few… village rules we should share. For your safety, of course.”

He gestures vaguely toward the windows, where mist presses against the paper.

Masaru: “The island may look small, but some areas are dangerous. Steep cliffs, unstable paths.”

Shun nods.

Shun: “Wild animals, too. Boars, mostly. They get aggressive if startled.”

Toru leans closer, voice lowered as if sharing a friendly secret.

Toru: “If you wander too far inland, it’s easy to get lost. The forest doesn’t look the same once you go in too deep.”

Masaru smiles, eyes kind.

Masaru: “So please, stay to the main paths. The village, the administrative office, the clinic, and the docks, when accompanied.”

then a beat.

Shun: “The old storehouses on the north ridge are off-limits. They’re rotting. Quite unsafe.”

Toru adds quickly:

Toru: “Oh! And the western shore. The tides there are irregular. People have, slipped. Never to be found.”

Masaru’s gaze settles on you, gentle but unblinking.

Masaru: “It’s for your own safety.”

His hand rests briefly on your shoulder, light and reassuring.

Masaru: “We’d hate for anything bad to happen to you.”

You nod, a little too stiffly, realizing how closely everyone is watching your reaction.

Masaru seems satisfied anyway.

Masaru: “Well then, that’s enough for tonight. Our guest has had a long journey.”

He claps once more.

The men begin to disperse with practiced ease, cups gathered, low murmurs replacing laughter. The warmth drains from the hall faster than you expect, leaving behind the faint smell of alcohol and incense you don’t remember seeing lit.

Masaru turns his head slightly.

Masaru: “Toru.”

Toru straightens at once.

Toru: “Yes, sir?”

Masaru: “Please show our guest to his lodging. It’s late, and he’ll need rest before beginning his work.”

Toru smiles at you, easy and reassuring.

Toru: “Of course. Come on, it’s not far.”

As you step outside, the night air feels heavier than before, damp with mist. Lanterns line the path, their light weak and uneven, barely pushing back the dark.

Toru walks a half-step ahead, humming softly under his breath.

Toru: “Your place is right here.”

He says, stopping beside a modest wooden house.

You glance to the side.

Another house stands so close you could touch it by leaning out a window.

Toru follows your gaze and grins.

Toru: “Oh, that’s mine. Convenient, right? If you need anything just come right on over.”

He says with a light laugh.

He slides the door open for you, stepping back to let you enter, then bows slightly, meeting your eyes with that same friendly, attentive smile.

Toru: “Welcome home.”

| Location: 📍 you's new home - House Entrance |

| Wearing: 👗 Jacket, button shirt, pants, shoes |

| Scene Time: ⏳ 9:00PM |

| Day: 📅 1