A gentle wind passed through the temple's cherry trees, carrying with it a shower of pink petals. The rising sun slowly illuminated the paved courtyard with a golden glow.
Hiro, a cheerful young boy with long, jet-black hair tied in a ponytail, watched the fallen leaves dance across the temple grounds. His bright red eyes sparkled with energy as he hopped from stone to stone, mimicking imaginary combat stances. His black kimono swayed with every movement, and his lively laughter echoed through the tranquil courtyard.
"Hiro, come help your father!"
His mother's soft but firm voice pulled him from his play. He immediately stopped, a wide smile on his face, and rushed inside the temple, leaping joyfully up the wooden steps.
Inside, his father knelt, carefully sorting through ancient scrolls. He lifted his gaze to his son and gave a small smile.
"Come here, Hiro. Tell me, my son, do you believe in the supernatural? It may not be easy for you to understand at your age, so let's just say ghosts or spirits. These scrolls contain the temple's history and stories about the supernatural beings that roam our world."
The boy knelt beside him, observing the yellowed scrolls. His parents knew that the supernatural existed, but they had chosen to stay away from it, never interacting with forces beyond human understanding.
"Remember one thing, Hiro," his father continued gravely. "There are things that humans cannot comprehend or control. As long as we stay in our world, they do not harm us."
Hiro nodded silently, though his eyes betrayed a certain fascination with these tales, which, to him, were nothing more than fairy tales.
His little brother, still an infant, slept peacefully in a nearby crib. His mother gently placed a blanket over him before turning to them.
"It's getting late. Hiro, go fetch some water from the well."
The boy stood up and grabbed a wooden bucket before stepping out of the temple. The well was located a few meters behind the main building, surrounded by tall grass swaying in the morning breeze. As he lowered the bucket, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Hiro! Are you still dawdling at the well?"
He turned to see a girl his age, dressed in a simple light blue t-shirt and white shorts. Her blonde hair, tied into a braid, swayed slightly with the breeze. Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she approached.
"Yume, I'm doing my chores, unlike you, who's always slacking off!" Hiro replied with a mischievous grin.
Yume was the only person Hiro truly considered a friend, as he was not very social and was taught by private tutors instead of attending a regular school.
"Oh really? At least I don't need to be reminded to do my work!"
Hiro burst into laughter, then hoisted up his full bucket of water, balancing it in his arms.
"Come on, let's go back to the temple."
The two children walked back together, chatting about everything and nothing, their laughter filling the air. Hiro cherished these moments with Yume, where everything felt simple and carefree.
His mother took the bucket with a smile and gently placed a hand on his head.
"Thank you, Hiro. You're a good boy."
He stood still for a moment under her touch before looking away, slightly embarrassed.
The afternoon passed in a mix of laughter and lessons. Hiro helped his father clean the temple altar, while Yume, sitting on the steps, told exaggerated stories she had heard in town. As the sun set, the two children played small games: racing across the temple's stones, hide and seek between the pillars, and silly riddles that made them burst into laughter.
"Hiro, do you think we'll leave this place someday?" Yume asked.
Hiro shrugged, sitting beside her on the wooden steps.
"Why leave? I like it here."
"I don't know, I'd like to see the city, the big streets, meet lots of people."
"I like it here. It's quiet, and you're here."
Yume playfully bumped her shoulder against his, a mischievous smile on her lips.
"Baka, you should want to see the world."
Dinner was filled with warmth, but Hiro's mind was still on his conversation with Yume. After the meal, he hesitated for a moment before turning to his mother.
"Mom, I know it's late, but Yume asked if I could sleep over at her place tonight. Please, just for one night. I promise I'll do double chores tomorrow."
His parents exchanged a glance. They knew that wandering alone at night was not advisable, but Hiro rarely asked for anything.
"Alright, but you'll do triple chores. And your father will walk you there, no arguments."
Hiro jumped for joy and threw his arms around his mother.
"Thank you, Mom! You're the best, I love you!"
After a few quick preparations, Hiro packed a small bundle and followed his father. They walked quietly through the calm night to Yume's house.
The evening was lively. Yume and Hiro spent hours playing silly guessing games and inventing fantastical stories. They challenged each other in small games, tossing pebbles into a circle drawn on the ground and laughing at their clumsy failures. Later, lying on the tatami in Yume's room, they talked about their dreams.
"Do you think we'll always be friends?" Yume asked, staring at the ceiling.
"Of course," Hiro replied without hesitation. "You're my only friend."
She glanced at him with a soft expression before stretching and yawning slightly.
"One day, we'll go on an adventure together, Hiro. You'll see."
"Maybe," he said, closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Yume."
"Goodnight, baka."
The next morning, Hiro woke up feeling an odd tension in the air. He stretched, glancing at Yume still sound asleep. He was about to close his eyes again when something caught his attention.
Through the window of Yume's house, a column of black smoke was rising into the sky.
His heart began pounding faster. A bad feeling gripped him. He rushed out of the house and sprinted towards the temple, ignoring Yume's parents calling after him.
When he reached the entrance, a nightmare unfolded before him.
A police barrier surrounded the temple, yellow tape marking the restricted area. Officers spoke in hushed tones while others kept onlookers at bay. Hiro's stomach twisted.
"There was an accident…"
He pushed through, dodging the hands of officers trying to stop him. His legs trembled, but he refused to slow down. When he reached the courtyard, his breath caught in his throat.
The temple was reduced to smoldering ruins. The ancient wood had been turned to ash, and the air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh.
And in the middle of the debris, he saw them.
Three charred figures lay motionless. Their blackened, cracked skin was frozen in expressions of unbearable pain. His father, partially collapsed, had stretched out a hand as if trying to protect his family. His mother, curled around his little brother, had her face locked in an expression of horror, her arm outstretched as if she had tried to shield him from the flames.
The sight hit Hiro like a hammer. His throat tightened, and his legs buckled beneath him.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Then, a scream tore through the air, shattering the eerie silence.
A cry of agony, a cry that echoed long after the ashes had settled in the wind.