The hours passed in a haze for Yuki. He couldn't shake the strange encounter at the station, nor the weight of the notebook now resting in his backpack. He hadn't dared open it yet, feeling like the secrets it held might overwhelm him before he even knew where to begin.
As twilight drew near, he left his family's small house, mumbling a vague excuse about meeting a friend. His parents didn't ask questions; they rarely did. Yuki had always been a quiet kid, keeping mostly to himself. He didn't have many friends in Hanae, and the few people he did know barely understood his restless nature.
The garden was at the edge of town, a place most people forgot about. It was said to be an ancient site, dating back centuries, though no one could say exactly who had built it or why. All Yuki knew was that the place gave him an uneasy feeling whenever he passed it, like it held memories too old and too powerful to be disturbed.
When he arrived, he found the garden as empty as he'd expected, the stones strewn about in odd arrangements. Some were set upright like pillars, while others lay in flat circles. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and a faint mist hovered over the ground, curling around the stones like something alive.
Yuki hesitated at the entrance, suddenly uncertain. The woman's instructions echoed in his mind: Go there at twilight, when the shadows grow long. You'll find your first path.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and stepped into the garden.
As he moved between the stones, he pulled out the notebook, feeling its weight in his hands once more. With a hesitant flick of his wrist, he opened it to the first page.
The paper was thick and worn, the ink faded, yet the words stood out clearly:
"When dusk meets dawn, seek the shadow beyond sight. There lies the doorway that all paths cross."
He frowned, reading the words over again. They made little sense, and yet they stirred something within him. He glanced around the garden, squinting as the last light of day cast long shadows across the stones.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a shadow that didn't match any of the stones around it. It was long and thin, stretching across the grass in a strange arc, as though cast by something just out of sight.
Yuki's pulse quickened. This shadow felt different, almost… alive. It wavered slightly, flickering at the edges, and seemed to be pointing toward a low stone pillar at the far end of the garden.
He stepped closer, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. The shadow led him to the pillar, which stood no taller than his knee, its surface etched with faint symbols he couldn't quite make out. They looked almost like words, but not in any language he recognized.
Suddenly, his hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to touch the stone. As his fingers brushed against the cold surface, he felt a jolt—like static electricity. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he could have sworn the garden shifted around him, the stones rearranging into a pattern that felt eerily familiar, yet impossibly complex.
Blinking, he withdrew his hand. The world settled back into place, but the stone beneath his fingers was warm now, as though it had just come alive.
Before he could fully process what he was seeing, a voice echoed in his mind—a voice that wasn't his own, yet somehow felt intimately familiar.
"Step forward, Yuki. Beyond this world lies another."
A shiver ran down his spine, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he took a small step forward, feeling an unseen force pulling him toward the pillar, guiding him. The air around him thickened, the colors of the garden growing muted as if he were slipping beneath the surface of a deep lake.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the sensation stopped. He found himself standing alone, the garden quiet and still once more. But something was different. The air felt lighter, and a strange, shimmering mist drifted around him, illuminating the stones in a soft, ethereal glow.
A path stretched out before him, a narrow trail that wound its way through the garden, vanishing into the mist. He could see faint lights dotting the path, like distant stars guiding him forward.
Clutching the notebook, he took a tentative step onto the path. As he moved, the mist parted slightly, revealing more of the stones, each one now etched with symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light.
He followed the path in silence, his senses heightened. Every sound—the rustle of leaves, the whisper of the wind—felt amplified, as though the garden itself were watching him. He was just beginning to wonder how long he'd been walking when he saw a figure standing ahead of him, shrouded in the mist.
It was the woman from the train station.
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "You've found the first path," she said, her voice softer now, almost reverent. "But this is only the beginning."
"What is this place?" he asked, barely able to keep the tremor out of his voice.
"This is a crossroads," she replied. "A place where worlds intersect, where choices converge. Few are able to find it—fewer still are chosen."
"Chosen for what?"
The woman tilted her head, studying him with a gaze that seemed to pierce through him. "To see what lies beyond the veil of ordinary life. To understand the patterns that weave through all things. But such knowledge comes at a price."
Yuki swallowed, a strange mixture of fear and excitement building in his chest. "What kind of price?"
She looked at him with a sorrowful smile. "The paths will test you, Yuki. They will ask things of you that you may not be ready to give. But in return, they will show you truths hidden from the eyes of most."
He glanced down at the notebook in his hands, feeling its warmth seep into his skin. Part of him wanted to turn back, to leave this strange world and return to the safety of the ordinary. But a stronger part of him—the part that had always longed for something more—urged him forward.
"I'm ready," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
The woman nodded, her expression softening. "Then follow the path. When you reach the end, you'll find a doorway. Step through it, and you'll see the first truth."
With that, she turned and disappeared into the mist, leaving him alone once more.
Yuki took a deep breath, steeling himself. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he knew he couldn't turn back now. Clutching the notebook, he continued down the path, his footsteps echoing in the silent garden.
As he walked, he felt a strange sense of clarity wash over him, as though a weight he hadn't known he was carrying had been lifted. The world felt different, more vibrant, more alive. He could feel the pulse of the stones beneath his feet, the gentle rhythm of the mist swirling around him.
And then, just as the woman had said, he saw it—a doorway at the end of the path, carved into a tall stone arch. It was framed by intricate carvings, symbols twisting and turning around each other in a delicate, almost hypnotic pattern.
He paused, heart pounding, and reached out to touch the doorway. The stone was cool beneath his fingers, but it pulsed with an energy that seemed to resonate with something deep inside him.
Without a second thought, he stepped through.
The world spun around him, and for a brief, dizzying moment, he felt as though he were falling, tumbling through a vast, endless void. Then, slowly, his vision cleared, and he found himself standing in a new place—a place both familiar and strange, a place where the ordinary world and the world of shadows intertwined.
And in that moment, Yuki knew that his life would never be the same.