Close-up: the old woman’s hands. They have the exact same wrinkles, same age spots as Grandma’s.

It is Grandma. Younger than Hana remembers — maybe 60 instead of 85. She smiles softly. No mouth movement. Just eyes. Page 6 (Full-page emotional beat) Panel 1 (Split diagonally): Top half: Hana reaches across the aisle, trembling. Bottom half: Grandma’s hand meets hers halfway.

Hana notices the passenger across the aisle: an old woman in a floral apron, hands folded over a purse.

Grandmother’s wrinkled hands folding a paper crane. Smiling. Page 4 (Two large horizontal panels) Panel 1 (Interior bus, wide shot): Hana walks down the aisle. Passengers turn their heads slowly, in unison, like owls. Their eyes are kind but vacant. One old man tips his hat. A little girl (circa 1950s dress) points at an empty seat by the window.

Grandma places the origami crane into Hana’s palm. Then she gently pushes Hana’s shoulder — back toward the bus seat.

8 pages (suggested for a short chapter) Page 1 (Full-page establishing shot) Panel 1 (Wide, muted tones): A deserted rural bus stop at dusk. Rain falls in thin, steady streaks. The signpost reads "Yūrei-guchi" (Ghost Crossing) — worn, barely legible. An old wooden bench sits alone under a flickering fluorescent light. No text. Sound effects: silent. Only the visual rhythm of rain. Page 2 (Four panels) Panel 1 (Medium shot): A young woman, Hana (early 20s, tired eyes, wet hair clinging to her face), sits on the bench. She holds a crumpled letter in her lap. Her knuckles are white.

The Last Farewell

No dialogue. A single small origami crane appears between their palms — not folded, but manifesting from light. Background: the bus interior blurs into a field of white camellias (Grandma’s favorite flower). Panel 1 (Overhead shot): The bus stops at a station made of mist. Other passengers disembark one by one, walking into a glowing horizon.