Dead Hours — Track Seven，第 16 頁
作者：Inkroost · 發布於
文字記錄
Panel 1: A wide establishing shot mirroring the first page exactly — the same angle from the back of the snack aisle toward the register — but in bright morning daylight, the windows dry and the street outside alive with people. The round white speaker sits in the ceiling above the register. Kaito is small in frame, mopping the same middle aisle. Panel 2: Medium shot of Kaito mopping, resigned, mouth flat — but his strokes are landing exactly in rhythm. RIN: You're doing it again. Panel 3: Close-up of Kaito, humming very quietly without realising it, eyes half shut. KAITO: Hmm hm hm-hmmm... Panel 4: Rin at the counter in the morning light, phone raised, one earbud in, the faintest smirk on her face. RIN: Track seven. KAITO: Don't. RIN: That take was better.
圖片說明
Four panels mirroring page one in daylight. Kaito mops the same aisle, humming his own track without realising it, while Rin films and says that take was better.
關於本章
The store's 47-minute music loop has run unchanged for six years, and Kaito can name every track by its first note. Tonight, at 3:14 A.M., track seven — sixty-eight seconds of whistling, a xylophone, and a woman saying 'have a nice day' — simply does not play. The loop goes six, then eight. Kaito spends the entire shift trying to prove a song he has heard eleven thousand times ever existed: he waits out four full cycles, interrogates the tracksuit regular, hears track seven playing as head office's hold music, and is told it was pulled from every store back in April. Rin films all of it. At dawn track seven returns — except it isn't whistling, it's Kaito's own humming, looped, because Rin has secretly been the store's music since the real player died in April, and tonight she cut the whistle out because it was ruining her audio. He gets nothing. She gets four hundred thousand listeners.