Akira's POV
The man on the road was standing still this time.
That was the first difference I noticed. In the earlier versions he had always been walking away, the set of his shoulders communicating departure and the road ahead of him more important than whatever was behind. I had watched his back for months of dreaming and had never seen his face.
Tonight he was facing me.
The rain was the same. The road was the same, wet, dark and carrying the thin red rivers into the cracks of the pavement the way I remembered it.
The sky was the same coiled grey. Everything that had always been there was still there, and the man was standing in the middle of it, and he was looking at me, his expression was something I couldn't read from the distance between us.
