500 Pages: InuOkko

Chapter 1: Prologue

The ocean sounded like thousands of needles as it pierced the sand of the shore. The sea foam sizzled away, leaving only a damp impression of where it had sat before. While the sea was forever changing against the coasts of Sukuna Island, Inumaki Toge remained the same.

In an environment that faced typhoon after typhoon, Toge stood proud to be a Sukuni at the age of seventeen. The Inumaki family inn and café faced the beach, so the rolling tide had become a diluted part of the natural background. Sea air rolled in for the tourists, yet it was just oxygen to Toge.

Silence had always haunted him. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak; it was that he couldn't. When a customer approached him, his throat would close no matter the question. The only exceptions to this were his parents, but even then it seemed to become increasingly difficult.

A psychologist called it "anxiety-induced selective mutism," but trying to explain that to anyone was a challenge itself. But that was his normal, for as long as he could remember.

One Sunday, near the beginning of Summer, the café was at the end of its business hours. The scent of various soup broths warmed the air in the well-lit indoor dining room. Most of the seating was outdoors, but when it was so late, most patrons moved indoors. Toge never understood why, after all, they were tourists from the city where you couldn't see the night sky nearly as clearly.

That night, only two older women remained in the café. They lived nearby, but neither were particularly memorable for anything other than their orders. When they came in, Toge knew exactly what they wanted just by the time of day. One woman loved his mother's spring onion noodles, which she prided herself on making "less Chinese and more Japanese." The other woman ate less filling meals-usually pickled plum rice with a white or green tea depending on the weather.

Something about that night was different. Through the front windows, Toge saw the silhouette of someone on the beach. The moon was particularly bright that night, so maybe it wasn't unusual for that person to be out when it was dark. Either way, Toge felt compelled to see what they were doing. In a life that felt like nothing changed, where he could recognize the weather patterns and know what a customer would want to order, any change was interesting.

The small bell of the door rang behind him as he approached the seawall railing illuminated by the moon and a single yellow streetlamp. It was a boy, Toge's age, sitting alone on a plastic lounge chair someone had left behind. Who was he?

The boy sat a few feet below Toge, who had never been so aware of all the sound his body made. Surely, if the boy looked up and saw Toge watching him, the boy would think he was creepy. Toge didn't want to be seen that way, but he was so curious.

Was the boy a tourist? He must have been. It would have been unlikely that someone his age would have remained so hidden from Toge if the boy was a native. They would have gone to school together; there were only two classes for each grade, so the boy must have been a tourist.

His hair was black and short. The moon gave it a blue etching like the waves in the ocean. He was thin, too thin, but his clothes were neat and seemed new. With skin as pale as the moonlight, the boy almost glowed that night. Who was he?

Toge decided it would be best not to linger. He walked back to the café to see the place empty other than his mother cleaning a few tables. She was a cold person, which was odd since Toge's father was so warm and flashy. They were a strange pairing, but Toge never thought too deeply about it unless it was brought up by one of the regulars. Both were Sukani, but their parents had moved to the mainland.

"Toge, where were you? Ms. Shinso said you just walked out," his mother asked.

"Nowhere," Toge replied.