Viw: Whispers and the Beautiful Challenge

Season 1 – The First Whisper

Episode 3: The Missing Piece

The countdown to the exhibition could now be measured on one hand.
Naomi reshuffled the proposal once more—replacing numbers, revising answers, rehearsing lines.

The stern gaze of her boss.
The eager voices of her staff.
They clung to her mind long after the meeting ended.

On the wall, the red circles on the calendar glared back.

＊

Night. Most office lights were gone.
Naomi closed her laptop, tidied her desk—then noticed Yusuke still hunched over his terminal, brow furrowed.

“Yusuke… find anything?”

“Well… not exactly.
I can’t say what’s wrong, but something feels off.”

He looked up, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh—Chief, are you leaving?”

“Yes. You should too. You’re here late every night.
Go home early for once… well, early for you. It’s nearly eleven.”

“Thank you. I’ll just check a bit more.”

His voice followed her to the elevator.
The clock was close to midnight.

＊

She opened the door to darkness.
On the living room table lay children’s worksheets, half-eaten bread, Kenichi’s folded newspaper.
The TV light glowed faintly.

The silence was cold, stripped of the warmth of day.
Her family’s presence—gone without trace.

She thought of cleaning, but her hands didn’t move.
She sank into the sofa.
The ceiling light blurred.
Her vision slipped away.

＊

At lunch the next day, Yuuko waved from her usual spot by the window at Caffè Serenità.
Yellow walls, green shutters, the deep scent of roast beans—always a small haven.

Naomi slid into the seat, expecting idle chatter.
But today was different.

“My daughter’s been so rebellious lately.
Home feels unstable…”

The words spilled out suddenly.
Naomi blinked.
Yuuko—always the strong single mother—rarely spoke of family. Today she was earnest, almost insistent.

“Your daughter’s in second year now, right? One grade below Airi?”

“Yes. Different districts, but the girls chat on LINE all the time.”

(Why this talk, all of a sudden?)

Naomi nodded, but Yuuko’s voice felt strangely far away—like something was slightly off.

Then Yuuko’s phone rang.

“Oh—my boss. Sorry, Naomi. I have to go.”

She left quickly. Naomi sat, staring at the table as if the conversation had been erased.

(Viw… what is it really? A brand? A name?)

The thought tugged at her.
On impulse, she began walking.

＊

Through Shibuya’s crowds, across the scramble.
Afternoon sun harsh on asphalt.

In Aoyama, late light glowed through glass, reflecting on ceramics.
In Ginza, shop windows stretched long shadows in evening orange.
Yet nowhere did the name appear.

Search engines showed nothing.
SNS—no trace, no whispers.
No signboards.
Dusk pressed in. Her steps quickened.

In Roppongi, the neon blinked alive.
Day’s noise shifted to night’s.
Still nothing. Only rising urgency.

Back in Shibuya, climbing a familiar slope, the air felt subtly changed.

At the hilltop stood a town house she had never seen.
Beyond it, the sky opened wide, city lights flickering below.
A stone stairway descended into an old lane behind the garden.

A dim lantern swayed under the low eaves.
A long linen curtain moved with the breeze.
Beside it, a strip of paper fluttered:

Listen to the whisper of Viw.

Naomi’s chest pounded.

“…Found it.”

She reached for the curtain, breath steadying, fingers pushing it aside.

There was presence within.
She inhaled to call out—

And woke.

It had been a dream.

She sat up on the sofa, phone vibrating in her hand.
On the screen—Yusuke’s name.

“Chief! Sorry to call so late, but… something’s wrong!”

The dream dissolved, replaced by crisis.