The story behind with a café. The café is cozy but busy, with soft jazz playing in the background. The warm light from the overhead lamps casts a golden glow over the group of teens sitting around a round table near the window, the outside world dark and rainy. The mood is casual, but there's an underlying excitement as they chat, their laughter rising above the murmur of the other patrons.

Tanya: "So, tell me, Anya, have you heard about the shrine in the woods?"

Anastasya glances up from her coffee cup, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her friends call her 'Anya', a nickname that sounds almost too soft for her presence.

Anastasya: "I've heard the rumors... It's supposed to be haunted, right? People go missing after they visit."

Darya: "Exactly! You know, people say that if you go there, the deity of the shrine will claim you... whatever that means." She rolls her eyes, but there's a glint of curiosity in her tone.

Tanya: "Yeah, but it's just a legend, right? Still, no one ever dares to go, so who knows?"

Sasha: "I bet you wouldn't dare go, Anya. You're always so..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "...mysterious. You never do anything exciting."

The others laugh lightly, but Anastasya can sense their teasing tone. It's harmless, but something in the air feels different. They don't understand her like she understands herself, and that always leaves a feeling of detachment.

Tanya: "How about this? Go to the shrine tonight. Alone. If you're so 'mysterious,' you should have no problem. Bring back something from there, anything, a leaf, a flower, a stone... and we'll see if the rumors are real. We'll know you weren't just spouting nonsense."

Anastasya feels the pressure of their eyes on her, the weight of the dare sinking into her chest. Tanya's grin grows wider, daring her to back down.

Anastasya: She pauses, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, the heat from it grounding her. "You really think I'd... go there for some stupid dare?"

Tanya: "What, are you scared? I thought you were into the supernatural stuff. You're always reading about myths, about spirits. Here's your chance to prove it. Are you in or not?"

There's a beat of silence. The others watch her closely, waiting. Anastasya's pulse quickens. She's never been one to back down from a challenge, even when it's something she's not entirely sure she believes in. Her friends think it's a joke, just a test of bravery. But the thought of the shrine... it feels different. She can almost feel its presence, calling to her from somewhere deep inside her. The nagging pull she's always ignored.

Anastasya: "Fine. I'll go."

The others cheer in unison, their voices a mix of amusement and excitement, as if they've just won some sort of victory. Tanya looks pleased, but there's a sharpness in her gaze, like she knew Anastasya would say yes all along.

Tanya: "I knew you had it in you, Anya! We'll expect proof, though. Don't just come back empty-handed. Go to the shrine, show us that you aren't just a bookworm with no guts."

Sasha: "Better hope the deity doesn't claim you. I wouldn't want to have to send a search party."

They all laugh, but Anastasya's mind starts to race. The unease she felt earlier settles in, and she can't shake the sense that this isn't just some harmless dare. Something about the shrine feels... wrong, but also too intriguing to ignore.

Anastasya: "Yeah, we'll see if the rumors are true…"

The others continue talking, but Anastasya's thoughts drift, as a strange, quiet anticipation builds inside her. Tonight, she'll go to the shrine. Tonight, something in her life is going to change.

Rain clings to her lashes. The wind wraps around her like fingers, urging her forward. The forest feels half-alive, breathing with ancient tension as Anastasya stands frozen beneath the shrine’s gate.

Across the clearing, the boy watches her.

He stands unnaturally still, his black hair dripping water, crimson-gold eyes glowing faintly even in the dimness. There’s something eerie about him, not dangerous, exactly, but unsettling, like a secret that shouldn’t be spoken aloud.

Boy: “I was wondering when you’d come.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the rain. Calm. Certain. As if he’s been expecting her for years.

Anastasya: “Do I... know you?”

She doesn’t step back, though every instinct tells her to. The silence around them sharpens, like the shrine itself is listening.

Boy: “Not yet. But you will.”

He walks toward her slowly, boots squishing in the mud. When he’s close, she notices he doesn’t shiver despite being soaked. There’s a strange energy around him, a quiet wrongness that prickles her skin, though his gaze is almost... gentle.

Anastasya: “Why are you here? This place is abandoned.”

Boy: “Not to me. This is my home. I’m the shrine’s last resident. Or maybe... the shrine’s last prisoner.”

He looks up toward the roof, where rain cascades off the eaves. His smile fades.

Boy: “They dared you, didn’t they? The girls you were with.”

Anastasya stiffens. How does he know that?

Anastasya: “Are you spying on me?”

Boy: “No. But the shrine... whispers. It told me you'd be coming.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but something changes in the air, thicker, heavier. The storm rumbles as the boy steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Boy: “The deity inside me has been asleep for a long time. But it stirred when you stepped through the gate.”

Anastasya: “Deity... inside you?”

Boy: “A curse. A soul not meant for this world. It was buried in me at birth, during the eclipse. It feeds off fate, and it’s chosen you.”

Anastasya’s breath catches. The pendant around her neck, a tiny Slavic charm for protection, burns against her skin.

Boy: “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to hurt you. I couldn’t... even if I wanted to.”

He brushes rain from his brow, the gold in his eyes glowing brighter now.

Boy: “You’re the only one who can contain it. The only one who can keep me from being consumed.”

Silence. Just the storm. Just them.

Anastasya: “This is insane…”

Boy: He smiles. “Maybe. But the shrine didn’t call you here for no reason. You’re here because something in you already knows this is your path.”

Thunder cracks.

She should run. She should call her friends, laugh it off, go home. But her feet won’t move. She’s not afraid of him, she’s afraid of how right it all feels.

And when the boy holds out his hand, not demanding, but waiting, Anastasya doesn’t take it. But she also doesn’t walk away.

Anastasya doesn’t remember when the rain stopped. Only that the shrine’s roof now drums with silence, and the forest holds its breath.

She still stands beneath the torii gate, staring at the boy who claims he’s cursed, Haruki Amano.

Anastasya: “Why me?”

Haruki doesn’t answer right away. He turns, walking slowly toward the inner shrine as if inviting her without words. She hesitates, then follows.

The path is overgrown, the ground slick, but her steps are steady. Something compels her forward, deeper into the heart of this forgotten place.

Haruki: “The deity chose you. I don’t know why... yet. But it’s not random. It never is.”

They stop before the old offering hall. Moss clings to the wood, but there’s a strange sacredness to it, untouched, despite the decay.

Haruki: “Do you believe in fate?”

Anastasya: “I don’t know what I believe.”

Haruki: “Good. That makes you dangerous.”

He pushes the door open. Inside, the air is dry and warm despite the storm. Candles lit. The place seems prepared for her. It’s unsettling, but Anastasya feels no fear. Just... curiosity.

Haruki: “I can’t leave the shrine. Not for long. The deity’s hold keeps me bound. But when you came near, the pull weakened. Just a little.”

Anastasya: “So what, you want me to break the curse?”

Haruki: He steps closer. “No. I want you to understand it.”

He pulls something from behind the altar, an old book, wrapped in faded cloth. He sets it on the floor between them.

Haruki: “This shrine once belonged to the forgotten gods. Before temples and churches, before names were carved into stone, there were... voices in the dark. The deity inside me was one of them.”

He opens the book. Strange symbols, half-erased, cover the brittle pages. Anastasya kneels beside him, her fingers brushing ancient ink.

Anastasya: “Why does this feel familiar?”

Haruki: “Because it is. Your blood remembers.”

She snaps her gaze to him.

Anastasya: “What are you talking about?”

Haruki: “You’re not normal, Anastasya. You were never meant to be. The dreams. The cold. The way animals stop and look at you. You’ve felt it, haven’t you?”

She shivers, the truth in his words too sharp to deny.

Haruki: “Something binds us. Not just this curse. Something older.”

A moment passes between them, silent, electric.

Then a shadow moves behind the altar. Fast. Wrong. The air shifts, cold and heavy.

Haruki: “It’s waking.”

The candles flicker violently. The deity’s presence pushes into the space, unseen but immense, like a storm pressing against skin. Anastasya gasps, clutching the charm around her neck.

Haruki: “Don’t run.”

But Anastasya doesn’t move. The fear is there, but deeper still, something ancient inside her recognizes the force pressing in. A memory not hers whispers through her veins:

"Bind him to the girl of winter stars..."

Haruki drops to one knee, trembling. His eyes glow gold. The deity is trying to rise.

Anastasya: “Haruki?!”

Haruki: With a strained voice, he tries to speak. “Say it. Your name. Say your full name.”

Anastasya: “A-Anastasya Yelena Volkov!”

The shrine booms with force. Then everything goes still. Haruki’s eyes dim. He breathes shallowly, looking up at her like she just pulled him from drowning.

Haruki: “You... you really are her.”

Anastasya: “Who?”

He smiles faintly, voice barely a whisper.

Haruki: “The bride fate gave to me."