The screen cut from the news anchor to live footage of smoke rising across Tokyo—towering plumes of black still curling into the golden afternoon sky.
“Before we continue, I must warn viewers that some of the following footage contains graphic scenes, and may be distressing to watch.”
I gripped the phone tighter.
Hiroko hadn’t moved. She stood like a statue beside me, arms crossed too tightly over her chest, lips pressed in a flat line.
Zo lingered in the background, pacing.
“The confirmed death toll stands at 220, with many more injured or missing. All fatalities are believed to be adult men who were inside the targeted structures at the time.”
In the footage, screams unfolded beneath the news anchor’s calm.
The air shimmered in heatwaves, the light fractured by fire.
Helicopters buzzed overhead.
Sirens blared from every direction.
“Oh my God.” I sat down on the bed and covered my mouth.
“The Japanese government has declined to comment on who may be behind the attack. However, our sources have confirmed that no group has claimed responsibility.”
The screen shifted back to the news castor.“Scenes from across the capital show rising smoke, shattered buildings, and emergency responders battling multiple fires.”
The video cut to a wide aerial view—likely drone footage—of several buildings mid-collapse.
One fell like a stack of paper, slowly at first, then crumbling inward.
Another burst from its center in a fiery bloom.
The skyline twisted with orange and ash.
“Authorities are still trying to determine what the targeted buildings were used for. No one has claimed ownership of them and the government has also not provided further information.”
A shiver skittered across my back.
I could hear my own heartbeat now, thudding like a war drum in my ears.
The footage shifted again—closer now.
Street-level.
CCTV.
Japan had surveillance nearly everywhere in the metro zones. Silent, all-seeing eyes on every block, every alley, every train platform.
The screen showed one building just seconds before detonation. Men—blurry and hunched in coats—filed in through a steel-reinforced door.
A timestamp blinked in the corner.
Thirty seconds later, the camera fizzed and cut to another angle.
Then—boom.
The building buckled and flames shot out of the windows like vengeful wings. Glass shattered. Debris rained down in slow-motion sparks.
It didn’t even look real.
