“Maki, wait for us!” Abe’s voice was exactly the same as it is now—just higher, younger, and honestly… cuter.

  I turned, and there he was: elementary school gym uniform, and those big eyes that always looked surprised even when he wasn’t.

  “You’re going too fast,” he added, bending over a little to catch his breath.

  Haruka caught up and smacked him on the back.

  “Don’t be an old man already,” she teased with that sing-song laugh of hers. “If Maki runs fast, then you run fast too!”

  Seeing her, I remembered why I’d always envied her a little. The way she walked like the whole world was her stage. I loved it when she came to my house on Saturdays in that pink dress with tiny flowers. She’d been able to make friends as far back as I could remember.

  The three of us held hands.

  Our teachers were up ahead, leading the class along a narrow trail through the trees. It wasn’t Ziwanda yet, but people said this area was the path toward… a place where nature started to become different.

  “Maki, did you see that?” Haruka pointed deeper into the woods.

  “See what?” Abe squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

  “I do,” Haruka insisted. “A flicker. Exactly the same color as my eyes.”

  A pulse of light between the thicker trees—deep, violet.

  I went still. Completely still, like that would help me see whatever it was.

  A faraway sound slid through the air. It was like a voice… but not just any voice.

  Then it became a thought—

  and it wasn’t one of mine.

  Come back…

  I blinked.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  Abe and Haruka looked at each other, confused.

  “The wind?” Abe offered.

  “There’s no wind,” I said.

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  I knew it. There was no wind. There was nothing except a silence so complete even a dropped pin couldn’t break it.

  The teacher called out from ahead.

  “Kids! Don’t separate from the group!”

  “Yeeees!” the three of us sang back in unison.

  But my feet had already chosen another direction—toward the edge of the forbidden.

  I took a few steps toward that violet light. I didn’t think. I just felt like it was the right thing to do.

  The ground beneath my shoes vibrated—like when you rest your hand on a purring cat. The hum climbed up my legs, into my spine, and settled right under my ribs.

  Of course Abe followed me.

  “Maki… what are you doing?” he whispered, like speaking too loud might offend the forest.

  Haruka came too.

  “We can’t split up,” she scolded. “If the teacher sees us, she’ll kill us.”

  But she still stayed closest to me.

  The trees changed as we walked. The bark shifted darker, redder—like it had swallowed an entire sunset. The birds went quiet. There were no insects. No breeze. Nothing moved around the trees that marked the entrance.

  That light was mesmerizing. It drifted as if it were inviting us closer.

  And then I heard it—

  a heartbeat.

  A pulse.

  But… where was it coming from?

  It felt like it was coming from the ground, from the air, from the belly of Ziwanda itself.

  Come back, Toshihiro’s flame…

  I stopped so suddenly my fingers tightened around theirs.

  “What was that?” Haruka asked, visibly nervous.

  “What?” Abe tensed. “I didn’t hear anything. I swear.”

  I was shaking, because those words didn’t feel entirely unfamiliar.

  I moved again, like my will had been set aside. Like an invisible thread was tugging me forward, gently, patiently.

  A stronger glow appeared a few yards ahead.

  I stepped closer to the forest’s threshold.

  And then—

  everything vanished.

  The light. The pulse. The whisper.

  All of it evaporated like it had never been there.

  I looked around.

  No Abe.

  No Haruka.

  No classmates.

  No teacher.

  Just darkness.

  I couldn’t even tell if I was inside the forest. I didn’t remember crossing into Ziwanda.

  The silence had weight. A shape.

  And that shape made me feel small.

  A sudden sadness crushed down on me, so sharp my tears spilled on their own.

  “Haruka?”

  “Abe?”

  Nothing.

  My voice bounced off the trunks like I was shouting into outer space.

  My small hands trembled.

  And then, from behind—

  “Maki!” Abe’s voice cracked. “Finally!”

  I spun.

  Abe came running, crying without even trying to hide it—nose red, eyes wide with fear.

  Haruka was right behind him, wearing an expression I’d never seen on her before.

  Pure panic.

  They both grabbed me at once, hugging like they were afraid I’d disappear again.

  “You went off alone,” Abe sobbed. “Don’t ever do that again!”

  “From now on, we go everywhere together,” Haruka said, her voice angry but shaking. “Everywhere.”

  I stood frozen, not understanding why my chest hurt so much.

  They came after me.

  Even when I’d run toward something they couldn’t see.

  Even when they didn’t understand what was calling me.

  Even when they were scared.

  I wiped my tears with my sleeve.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Haruka squeezed me tighter.

  “Promise me you’ll always tell us if something weird is happening to you,” she murmured.

  In that moment, I couldn’t promise—not really. I didn’t know how to explain what I’d felt, because I didn’t even understand it myself.

  But I nodded anyway, just to ease them.

  They smiled.

  The three of us ran back to the trail, still holding hands.

  And far behind us, the forest watched.

  Without moving.