Kaya gently set the wooden horse aside and looked deeper into the box. There were a few more toys inside—a small wooden drum, clearly made for a child. But what really caught her attention was something tucked at the very back—a diary.
Paper.
She froze for a second, surprised. She reached in and pulled it out. The cover was made of worn leather, stitched together by hand. When she opened it, the pages felt rough under her fingers—nothing like the smooth paper she was used to. It looked homemade, uneven at the edges.
But that wasn't what shocked her the most. Every page was filled with writing—lines and lines of neat characters in a language she didn't understand. It looked like Japanese… or maybe Chinese. She wasn't sure.
She flipped through the thick diary. Every single page was covered in those strange letters, written in a dark red ink. Or… maybe not ink. Whatever it was had dried long ago, leaving the words looking almost brown.
Kaya frowned. She couldn't read a single word.
