✧ Yumi ✧
"Aw, huh—my butt hurts..."
"Yumi, are you alright?"
"Yeah... I think I'm okay."
Ikiryo ran to me, helping me up. His grip was firm, but his hand trembled slightly.
What had just happened?
It all came in a rush—like we'd been torn out of one reality and flung into another. The parchment. The strange symbols. The light—no, the crack in the world. Like glass shattering around us.
And now...
Silence.
The air here felt hollow. The sky was colorless—something between dusk and dream, like an old memory washed out in time. The ground beneath us was real, but the space around us wasn't.
It was too quiet.
I dusted off my clothes and looked around. Trees loomed in the distance, twisted and still, like they were holding their breath.
"This place... doesn't feel real," Ikiryo muttered.
"Check your watch."
He glanced down. Frowned.
"The time hasn't changed. It's stuck."
My stomach tightened. "It's like we're outside of time.!"
A chill curled along my spine, delicate and cold like a spider's thread brushing against skin.
Then—"...Ikiryo. Look."
We both turned.
It wasn't a forest after all.
It was a bridge.
Long. Fragile-looking. Carved from rotting wood and bound together by ropes that frayed like hair. It stretched far into the fog, disappearing into a place we couldn't see. Below it… nothing.
Not just darkness—a void. Depthless. Breathing.
The bridge hung over it like a dare.
Ikiryo's voice dropped. "Is that… where we're supposed to go?"
"I think so."
We stood there for a long moment. Neither of us moved. We didn't even blink.
"How the hell are we supposed to cross that?"
I tried to force a joke.
"Okayyy," I said, stretching dramatically. "Let's not think about the creepy shadows or the terrifying bottomless pit under our feet. Are we likely to die? Yes. Will we? Hopefully not!"
"Yumi." His deadpan glare. "You're really not helping."
"You're very much welcome." I grinned anyway.
He exhaled slowly. "No more reading ancient nonsense aloud."
"It wasn't nonsense," I mumbled. "It brought us here, didn't it?"
"To a new nightmare? Yeah. Great job."
He held out his hand. "Give me the parchment."
I handed it to him, carefully. The script shimmered faintly, glowing with an old, forgotten magic. The page pulsed beneath our hands, steady and alive, like something ancient that had only just begun to wake. It was breathing, with a heartbeat I couldn't hear but could still feel—even now, even though it was no longer in my hands.
Then—A wisp of soft blue fire began curling off the parchment's edge, like smoke lit from within.
"Yumi... do you see that?"
"Heck yeah, I do."
"It looks like it's burning, but…" He hesitated, watching it closely. "It's touching my hand—and it doesn't even hurt."
I reached out without thinking. "Let me touch-"
"Wait, don't—!"
Too late.
My fingers brushed the fire—And agony struck like lightning.
"AHHHHH!"
I dropped to my knees, cradling my hand. It felt like something ancient had bitten me—something that didn't want to be touched.
"YUMI!"
Ikiryo knelt beside me, panic raw in his eyes.
"Let me see—please—just let me see."
But I couldn't open my hand. It throbbed, like the pain had sunk beneath skin and muscle into something deeper.
He grabbed a water bottle, poured it over my palm. The water hissed.
Then—quick hands, a torn strip of fabric, wrapping it tight. His fingers trembled. He wouldn't meet my eyes.
"I'm fine," I lied, biting my lip. "Sorry I screamed like that..."
"Don't apologize." His voice was quiet, low.
We sat in silence for a long moment. I knew that look on his face—he was blaming himself.
"I didn't mean to mess things up. We haven't even started and already..."
"Stop that," he snapped gently. "You didn't mess anything up. You didn't know."
I smiled, weakly. "You're right..."
"Don't start crying now," he tried to tease.
Too late.
One tear slipped down my cheek.
He brushed it away with a fingertip. His touch was gentle, his eyes... softer than I expected.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Can you stand?"
I nodded, swallowing the pain.
"Alright. No more tears. We're in this together."
"Deal." I raised my good hand. "From now on, no touching weird glowing paper."
"Smart girl." He gave a crooked smile. "Let's go."
I hesitated. Looked around again.
"Ikiryo..."
"You're scared. Right?"
Of course he understood. That's what I admired most about him.And sometimes hated.
"Do you know why?"
He was quiet. Then: "I have a guess."
"I just..." My voice cracked. "I don't want to mess this up for you."
He didn't answer.That silence hurt more than words would have.
"You know what—never mind." I forced a smile. My fake smile. The one I wear when shame creeps in.Okay. One-two-three. Subject change.
"So, uh... your mom's not gonna be saved by us just standing here," I said, forcing cheer. I took a shaky breath and stepped forward—onto the path I didn't recognize, heart thudding, hand still burning.
We walked.And then, we saw it.Truly saw it.
The bridge.
It didn't just look deadly.It felt... final.
Like once we stepped onto it, there'd be no turning back.