PART 1: Raindrops and Ramen**
Tokyo never stopped raining. The sky had not known clear blue in over three years. Yet life trudged on - boats replaced buses, rooftops became gardens, and old shops became homes. Among them was Amano Kitchen, a small ramen stall tucked beneath the shadow of a tilted torii gate.
Hina Amano stirred miso broth with the same grace she once used to summon sunshine. Her sun pendant - faintly glowing, warm as ever - rested above her heart.
"One day," she smiled, speaking to no one, "I'll make ramen so good it'll make the sun rise."
"Don't say that," came Hodaka's voice from the hallway. He was older now - wiser, if not any less hopeful. He entered the tiny kitchen with two bags of deliveries slung over his shoulders. "Last time you wished for that, Tokyo drowned."
They laughed softly. It was the laughter of survivors - weathered, a little sad, but still genuine.
---
That night, on the rooftop, Hina looked to the clouds with something like longing.
"I heard a voice today," she whispered.
"The sky?" Hodaka asked, not mocking.
"It said... 'Another sun is waking.'"
And the next morning, for the first time in years, the sky turned blue.
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