Vol 1 Prologue (1/1)

The afternoon rush hour of Yagokoro Station was just beginning when the platform was dyed crimson

“—The lih on the nuerous, so please stand behind the white line”

The reason for the corounds was siokoro High School and the offices in the surrounding area The station caught up in rush hour was confused by the various conversations ether

“—Ah, oh yeah, isn’t it today? The voting day for the Midnight Site? Are you gonna do it?”

“Of course It’svariety shows, you know? So what’re you gonna vote?”

“There’s no choice but guilty There’s no rooht?”

However, was it some characteristic of the japanese? The line of people waiting for the arrival of the trains was orderly That hy a girl with a body clothed in the unifor the crowd as she moved unsteadily to the head of the line

As the people kept an eye on her inco?”, one of the girls lined up, a fe the sairl who had jumped to the front row, “Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing, cutting?” However, the female student’s words of protest did not continue

The irl’s expression, her voice disappeared

She had a face pale as a sheet and devoid of life She wandered with her eyes unfocused and staring at empty space It was as if not just the female student’s complaints, but even the noise of the station, did not enter the girl’s ears

Finally, with unsteady footsteps, the girl trespassed beyond the white line Waiting expectantly in front of the girl’s loafers was a steep drop like a crevasse That was the boundary line between the platform and the track

“H-hey! It’s dangerous, so please stand behind the white line!”

A flustered station worker whose eyes had stopped on the girl raised his voice, but the urgent shout was sadly sed by the thunderous roar of the li through the platforure was not on the platform

—In the nextsound of the train’s brakes split the scarlet sky like the screaon

The crowd beca to knohat had happened and the like It was instantaneous The platforirls screarumbled, the elderly chanted Buddhist prayers, the children trembled and cried and shouted The everyday scene of the station grounds bustling in the afternoon rush hour had in one ed to the very picture of hell

The fresh crimson scattered across the track was the color of despair Already there was no longer the figure of a girl The girl had becole flower A flower of fresh blood That flower redder than the setting sun was the irl’s life had disappeared from this world