The Keeper Of The Lost

Annie couldn’t shake the feeling that Sakura was still out there. The whisper of his name on the wind, the cherry blossom petal in her hand—it was more than just coincidence. It was a sign.

She spent days searching the places he used to be—the abandoned shrine, the bookstore, the outskirts of town. But no matter how much she called for him, there was no response.

The world had moved on.

But she hadn’t.

One evening, as she sat beneath the dead cherry blossom tree, she heard it again.

"Annie."

This time, it was clearer. Closer.

She jumped to her feet, scanning the darkening forest. “Sakura?”

The air shimmered. A figure flickered in the distance—his form barely visible, like a shadow on the edge of reality.

She ran toward him.

But the moment she reached out—

He disappeared.

The silence left behind was deafening.

Her hands clenched into fists.

If the world wouldn’t give her answers, she would find them herself.

That night, she returned to the shrine.

And the darkness was waiting for her.

The shrine smelled of dust and forgotten prayers. Annie stepped inside, her heartbeat loud in the silence.

The voice that had guided her before was waiting.

"You return."

She swallowed hard. "Tell me how to reach him."

A long pause. Then—

"There is a path. But once you step upon it, you may never return."

Annie’s fingers curled. "I don’t care."

A low hum filled the air, like laughter. "Then you must walk between the worlds."

The room darkened. The wooden walls seemed to stretch, shadows deepening. A gust of wind blew through, carrying whispers she couldn’t understand.

A book appeared on the altar before her—its pages filled with ancient symbols, inked in something darker than black.

"The Twilight Gate will open only for those willing to pay its price," the voice said.

Annie hesitated. "What’s the price?"

The silence stretched.

Then—

"You will understand when the time comes."

Annie followed the instructions in the book, collecting the ingredients for the ritual—a lock of her own hair, a candle, and a vial of water from the shrine’s well.

At midnight, she stood before the cherry blossom tree, tracing the symbols in the dirt. The air grew heavy, charged with unseen energy.

She lit the candle. The flame burned blue.

"Open," she whispered.

The ground trembled. The world around her blurred, twisting as if reality itself was unraveling.

Then—silence.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in Aokigahara.

The sky above was a deep, endless dusk, neither day nor night. The forest around her was eerily still, the trees frozen in time.

She had stepped into the in-between.

And somewhere in this realm, Sakura was waiting.

Annie walked through the twilight realm, every step echoing in the silence.

Then, from the shadows, something moved.

A figure emerged—a tall, hooded being with hollow eyes.