The sun was low enough to hit that golden hour sweet spot, casting long shadows and making everything look slightly better than it really was. The three of them sat outside the convenience store, backs against the wall, drinks in hand.
No one said much at first. The kind of silence that didn't feel heavy—just full of nothing in a comfortable way.
Sota cracked open a bottle of soda. "You guys ever get that weird feeling where… like, you know there's nothing after this?"
Junpei looked over. "What do you mean, like we're gonna die?"
"No," Sota said, frowning. "I mean after school. After this. You go home, and it's just… done. That weird stillness where nothing's waiting."
Ryota nodded. "Yeah. Like when you finish a long show and don't know what to do next."
"Exactly," Sota said. "But it's not even a sad feeling. Just... blank."
Junpei took a sip from his drink. "It's kind of nice sometimes, though. That quiet."
Sota shrugged. "Yeah, but sometimes I wish there was something lined up. Like, you walk out of the store, and someone hands you a mission."
"A mission?" Ryota said. "Like in an RPG?"
"Kind of. Something small. 'Deliver this bag of chips to an old man at the park' or something."
Junpei smirked. "And in return he gives you… life advice?"
Sota pointed at him. "Exactly."
Ryota stretched out his legs. "I feel like we give each other quests all the time, we just don't realize it."
Sota looked over. "Like what?"
"Like, you buy the snacks, I start the weird conversations, and Junpei keeps us from getting arrested."
Junpei gave a long, slow blink. "That's my role?"
"Absolutely," Ryota said. "You're the designated adult."
"That's terrifying," Junpei muttered.
A breeze passed by. The sound of traffic in the distance. A couple of middle schoolers walked past, laughing about something.
Then Sota said, "I don't know. I like this part of the day. Where nothing's happening."
Ryota nodded. "Yeah. This is the good kind of nothing."
Junpei leaned back against the wall. "Yeah."
They didn't need to say anything else.