The next morning was not different; fog had clung to the town like a funeral shroud, swallowing all of the sunlight and sounds. Arata sat there staring out of his window trying to make sense of the mess of events from the previous day. He thought of Mei and her ominous warning and the whisperings in the mist that unsettled him. He wanted answers, and yet there was something in her words that unsettled him more than he would ever admit to it.
Hana had gone out early. She had written a note on the kitchen table: " Running some errands. I'll be back by noon. Explore, but don't wander too far, okay?".
Arata looked at the note, then out at the fog shrouding the outside world. He knew he probably should listen to her, but curiosity gnawed at him. He needed to see Mei again. Maybe she could explain what was happening. Maybe just maybe she had answers that could help him make sense of his own grief and confusion.
He put on his jacket and walked out; the streets were as deserted as before. There was more fog than yesterday, swirling around him as if living. The bite in the air seemed even sharper today, nipping at the skin as he walked toward the coast.
Now closer to the beach, he could see someone standing there almost unrecognizable. For a moment, he thought it might be Mei, but as he approached closer, he realized that girl was different too; she was a little older than him, had short, choppy hair, and a sharp, suspicious look about her. She turned to him, the eyes narrowing, as if she had been expecting him.
"You're the new kid, right?" she said, her voice flat.
Arata hesitated. "Yeah… I'm Arata. I just moved here."
She didn't say anything straight off, just kept staring at him, trying to gauge whether he was worth talking to. "I'm Sora. Let me guess, you've already met Mei."
Arata's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, I did. Do you know her?"
Sora's face clouded over. "Everyone in this town knows Mei. She's. different. If you're smart, you'll avoid her."
"What are you on about?" Arata asked, incredulous. "She was warning me about the fog, but it's not like she actually explained—
"She wouldn't," Sora said interrupting, a hint of bitterness creeping into the tone. "Mei likes to act like she's got everything figured out, but she's just as lost as the rest of us. The fog does things to people. Makes them see things, hear things… sometimes, it makes them disappear."
Arata's mind flashed back to the whispers he'd heard, to the strange shadows he was pretty sure he saw. "Disappear?" he repeated. "What's the meaning of this?
Sora sighed. "Alright, listen. I'm only saying this because you are new here, see? This town has its rules: don't follow the fog. It tells you what you want to hear but never is true. If you listen, if you follow. you won't return.".
Then, an icicle slid down Arata's spine. "What happened to. people who vanished?"
Sora's face softened a little. "Yeah. Some say the fog took 'em. Others think they just got tired of this place and ran off. But it's always the same—they're there one day, and gone the next. No goodbyes, no explanations.".
Arata had just been about to pressure her with more questions when Sora jumped in. "I've said enough. If you are any kind of intelligent person, you will get on the next train out of here and never return."
She walked away from him, leaving him sitting alone on the beach. Arata saw her disappear into the fog, and her words kept echoing in his head.
He stood there for hours, gazing out across the water. The waves had crashed softly against the shore, their noise dampened by the fog. Peaceful, almost hypnotic, but under the calm was an undercurrent of tension, the sense of something watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake.
"Arata… "
His chest thumped with a bound, and he spun around to see whence the whisper came. It was a faint whisper, but so clear that it sliced through the hush. He shook his head, glanced to one side or another and, seeing no one, walked ahead, his eyes cast down on the substance swirling lightly about him, thicker as if it moved closer and closer.
"Arata…
He made out a shape coming from the fog, this time—a pale, spectral profile. She is a woman, he thought but could not discern her features. She was just. there suspended on the edge of his awareness half-hidden in the mist.
"Who are you?" he challenged, his voice shaking. "What do you want?"
The figure was frozen, silent. It did not move nor speak. It stood there, gazing at him. He was aware of its presence as if it was cold and unsettling. For a moment, Arata considered running, but his legs felt heavy, immobile as though rooted in the ground.
The figure began to fade into the mist, then dissolve. The mist grew thick, then she was gone and nothing remained on the beach except emptiness. Arata stood there as his heart beat within his chest and his mind seemed to reel. He didn't even know if what he'd seen was real or just another little trick of the fog.
"Hey."
He sprang back, wary, and turned to see Mei standing a few feet away, her dark eyes fixed on him. She seemed so serene, even bored, but something in her gaze made him uncomfortable.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I told you, the fog doesn't like strangers."
Arata gulped hard as he tried to stabilize his breathing. "I… I heard a voice. I saw someone.".
Mei did not smile. "The fog shows you things," she said. "It can make you see whatever it wants you to see."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice rising. "What is the fog? Why does it do this?
Mei shrugged, going elsewhere for a moment, as if deciding how much to tell him. "Nobody really knows. Some say it's a curse, others think it's just. nature, something we can't understand. But it's here as long as anyone can recall. And it's dangerous."
Arata felt his frustration rise. "Why don't people move away, then? Why do they stick around when it's that unsafe?
"But it's not always bad, no," Mei said softly. "Sometimes it's beautiful. Then you see things you want to see. things you wish were real. And when you're desperate enough, you'll believe anything to believe it."
Arata felt a pang of sorrow as he looked at her. "Is that the reason you're here? Because of something you want to see?"
Mei's eyes flickered with something—pain, maybe, or fear—but she jerked her head away, quick enough to deny what I saw. "I have my reasons," she said, her voice sharp as a blade. "But that's not your concern. Just… stay away from the fog, okay? It's not something you can fight.".
Arata wanted to question, to interrogate; but before he got the words out of his mouth, Mei was turning away. "Wait!" he called out to her. "Why are you doing this for me? Why do you care?"
She stopped, but didn't turn around. "Because I know what it's like," she said softly. "To be lost. And I don't want anyone else to feel that way.".
And then, with the mist finally reached, she vanished from his line of sight, leaving Arata alone to his thoughts.
He walked back to the aunt's place, fog curling up his feet like smoke. Hana was sitting there when he returned, her face a mix of concerned and relieved. "I kept telling you not to get too far away," she said, a gentle but steady voice. "This town. it isn't like other towns. You have to be cautious.".
Arata nodded, though he could have sworn that she was lying to him. "Do you know anything about the fog?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Like. why it's here?
Hana hesitated, her eyes darting toward the window where the mist swirled against the glass. "There are stories," she said finally. "Ancient stories, of curses and spirits. But they're just that, Arata, stories. No point in dwelling on them.".
Arata wanted to push her for more but felt that she did not want to talk about it. He nodded instead, pretending to accept her response. In reality, he knew he could not brush it off that easily. The fog, the whispers, and the weird figures. There was something going on in Umigawa, and he was going to find out what that was.
Even if it meant facing the fog again.
That night, he lay in his bed overthinking Mei's words. The fog doesn't like strangers. It can make you see whatever it wants you to see. He had no idea what that meant, but he knew it wasn't something he could just brush over and pretend didn't exist.
As he slept, fog crept around the edges of his mind with whispers and shadows- a haunting dream for him.
And in the mist, deep within it, dark eyes watched him, waited.