The train was speeding along.
The scenery outside the window kept retreating.
Maybe because it was leaving the area of Tokyo, the carriage was not as empty as before, and gradually filled with quite a few people. Yet, the air in the carriage was unusually quiet, and countless people were intentionally or unintentionally looking in the same direction, casting admiring glances.
The witch, dressed in white and scarlet hakama, turned her head slightly and was lost in thought as she gazed out the window, not knowing what she was thinking about. Sunshine streamed in through the window. Beside her was a young man seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, quietly perusing an obviously yellowed ancient scroll in his hands, giving a fresh mountain mist feeling, elegant and timeless, his demeanor somewhat unreal.
The witch had a very traditional style, with a touch of sanctity in her conservatism, and her whole person was as calm as water.
