Aftershocks reminded everyone that the earthquake sequence might not be finished.

Every sudden movement caused people to look upward.

Every loud sound triggered concern.

Parents kept children close.

Some people slept sitting against walls.

Others remained awake beside relatives.

Outside, emergency vehicles continued moving through dark streets.

Helicopters could be heard overhead.

The city had lost its ordinary rhythm.

There were no normal traffic sounds.

No crowded restaurants.

No evening shopping.

No familiar routine.

Only emergency lights, generators, voices, and distant machinery.

For those in shelters, time seemed to move strangely.

Minutes felt like hours.

Hours felt like days.

---

Keiko Finally Gets an Answer

Near midnight, Keiko’s phone suddenly vibrated.

She looked down.

A message.

Her hands shook as she opened it.

It was from her husband.

The message was short.

“I’m alive. I’m at another shelter. I can’t leave yet.”

Keiko covered her mouth.

She began crying.

Someone sitting beside her asked: