Chapter 2: A Stranger Lost in Time

The sun dipped low over Yumehara, casting golden light over its winding streets. Neon signs flickered to life as the city awoke, its pulse a strange harmony of old and new. In one corner, a centuries-old temple stood solemn and unmoving. In another, a sprawling department store hummed with shoppers. Between these two worlds, a man staggered in confusion.

Kaito Nishimura stumbled through the narrow street, his hands gripping the hilt of an invisible sword at his side. His clothes, borrowed from a kind stranger he’d met hours before, hung loose on his frame—a dark hoodie and jeans he had no idea how to wear properly. The weight of the fabric felt alien, just as the world around him did.

Everywhere he turned, something new overwhelmed him. The whine of motorcycles zipped through the air, and people brushed past him, too hurried to notice his bewildered expression. Screens hung from buildings, displaying moving pictures he couldn’t comprehend.

“Oi!” a vendor shouted from behind a food stall. Kaito instinctively flinched, one hand tightening at his side. “You lost or something?”

Kaito froze, his eyes darting to the speaker. The vendor, an elderly man wearing an apron stained with grease, gave him a suspicious look.

“I…” Kaito hesitated, his voice hoarse. “Where am I?”

The vendor frowned. “What do you mean, where? You’re in Yumehara, boy.”

Yumehara, Kaito thought. The name felt familiar, but nothing about the place before him matched the city he had visited once, long ago, in the Edo period. “This… this can’t be Yumehara. Where are the old streets? The samurai? The castles?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Samurai? Castles? Kid, have you been watching too much anime? This is the real world.”

Kaito felt heat rise to his face. He clenched his fists, his pride bruised. “Forget it,” he muttered, turning on his heel.

“Wait,” the vendor called. “If you’re really lost, there’s a police station two streets down. Maybe they can help.”

Kaito didn’t respond. The man’s laughter followed him as he stalked down the street, but the words stayed with him. Police station? What kind of warriors are those? He shook his head. His instincts told him not to trust this strange place—or its people.

At the same time, across the city, Akari held the locator charm close to her chest. The small wooden disk pulsed faintly, its glow growing stronger the closer she walked to the bustling center of Yumehara. Her heart pounded with every step.

She had never been this deep into the city before. The narrow streets near the shrine were quiet and predictable, but this place was loud and alive. People surrounded her, their voices blurring together in a confusing cacophony. She wanted to turn back, to leave this chaotic world behind, but she couldn’t. The stranger she had pulled from the past was out there, somewhere, and it was her responsibility to find him.

As she walked, she caught glimpses of her reflection in the windows of the shops she passed. Her simple kimono, though modest and unassuming back at the shrine, made her stand out here. People gave her curious looks as she walked by, and she shrank under their stares.

The charm’s glow grew stronger. Akari stopped in front of a large intersection, its streets teeming with people. The charm pointed her forward, but the sheer size of the crowd made her hesitate.

“What if I don’t recognize him?” she whispered to herself. “What if he doesn’t want my help?”

She shook her head, trying to banish her doubts. Master Yukiko’s words echoed in her mind: You are the Weaver now. This is your burden.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the crowd.

Kaito wandered aimlessly, his frustration growing with every step. He had tried speaking to a few more people, but each conversation ended the same way: with strange looks, laughter, or outright dismissal. He was beginning to feel like a ghost, walking unseen through a city that no longer belonged to him.

As he passed an alleyway, a group of young men lounging against the wall caught his eye. They were dressed in matching black jackets with bold, colorful emblems on the back. Their laughter stopped as Kaito walked by, and one of them stepped forward, blocking his path.

“Hey, old man,” the leader said, smirking. “You look lost. Need help finding your way?”

Kaito stiffened. The man was younger than him by several years, but his words carried a mocking edge. The others chuckled behind him.

“I’m not lost,” Kaito replied evenly, though his voice betrayed a hint of irritation.

“Really? You sure about that?” The leader’s smirk widened. “Because you don’t look like you belong here.”

The others laughed again. Kaito’s jaw tightened. “Move aside.”

“Or what?” the man challenged, leaning closer. “You gonna fight me? With what, your bare hands?”

The group erupted into laughter, but Kaito didn’t flinch. His hand moved instinctively to his side, where his sword should have been. The absence of its familiar weight was like a punch to the gut.

“Pathetic,” the leader sneered, shoving Kaito back.

Kaito stumbled but didn’t fall. His eyes burned with quiet fury as he straightened, his posture rigid. “You think you’re strong?” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’ve fought men twice your size. Don’t test me.”

For a moment, the leader hesitated, as if sensing the strength in Kaito’s words. But before he could respond, a soft, urgent voice cut through the tension.

“Stop!”

Kaito turned to see a young woman running toward them. Her kimono fluttered in the wind, and in her hand, she held a small wooden charm that glowed faintly.

“Akari…” Kaito whispered, though he had no idea how he knew her name.

The leader scoffed, stepping back. “Tch. You’re lucky, old man. Looks like someone’s here to save you.” He motioned for his friends to follow him, and the group disappeared down the alley.

Akari stopped in front of Kaito, panting slightly. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You…” Akari began, her voice trembling. “You’re the one I pulled from the past.”

Kaito’s expression hardened. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

“My name is Akari,” she said, holding up the charm. “I… I made a mistake. You’re not supposed to be here. I need to fix it.”

Kaito frowned, his hand once again moving to his side. “Fix it? You think you can just send me back, like this never happened?”

“I have to,” Akari said, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes. “If you stay here, the threads of destiny will unravel.”

“Threads of destiny?” Kaito echoed, his tone skeptical. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Akari insisted. “You don’t belong here. You’re putting everything at risk.”

“Risk?” Kaito stepped closer, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve taken me from my time, from my people. And now you expect me to just… accept it?”

Akari flinched but didn’t back down. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said quietly. “But if we don’t fix it, things will only get worse.”

Kaito stared at her, his anger warring with a strange sense of understanding. He could see the guilt in her eyes, the weight of her mistake.

After a long moment, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll listen to what you have to say. But don’t expect me to trust you.”

“That’s fair,” Akari said, relief flooding her voice. She held out the charm. “This will guide us. But we need to move quickly. There are… others who might try to stop us.”

Kaito narrowed his eyes. “Others?”

Akari hesitated, then nodded. “The ones who thrive on chaos. They’ll want to use this rift for their own gain.”

Kaito said nothing, but his grip on his side tightened. Despite everything, his instincts told him to trust her—for now.

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