Shino

The three men exchanged grim looks, their resolve solidifying. They knew the stakes. They knew the cost of failure. And they knew that, no matter what, they could not afford to lose.

As the candles burned low and the shadows stretched longer, the Nobi Nobi leaders began to outline their strategy, their voices low and urgent. The battle for the timeline had begun, and they were determined to win—no matter the cost.

Hisako

The small police station in Hisako was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the ceiling fan and the faint rustle of papers. Shino sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the board in front of him. It was a chaotic mosaic of photographs, handwritten notes, and red strings connecting one piece of information to another. At the center of it all was a picture of Aki—a bright-eyed boy with a mischievous grin, the kind of kid who always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else. But now, Aki was gone, and Shino was no closer to finding him than he had been a week ago. Shino turned his head towards the window, the weather was cold unlike any other day. It seemed to look like December had finally arrived in full blast. Shino slowly took his notebook in his hand and started to turn through the pages looking for any information that he might have missed. No, everything was in its place and yet things still wouldn't add up. What was he missing?

Shino leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The case didn't make sense. Aki had disappeared in the woods at around 4:30 PM, and according to the timeline Shino had pieced together, there was no way the boy could have made it out of the forest before nightfall. The woods were dense and sprawling, and even an experienced hiker would struggle to navigate them in such a short amount of time. Yet, there was no trace of Aki—no footprints, no torn clothing, nothing. It was as if the forest had swallowed him whole. He thought about the story Akira and Haruto told. A big baby looking monster appearing in the middle of the forest out of nowhere, could it be true? Shino had a hard time believing that story. He thought about the girl that they had mentioned, A red coat, black formal pant. He looked at his notes and felt overwhelmed by the unadded pieces of the story.

Shino sighed, his frustration mounting. He had interviewed everyone who had seen Aki that day, from his classmates to the shopkeepers in the market. But no one had seen anything unusual, no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. It was as if Aki had simply vanished into thin air.

Feeling a growing sense of hopelessness, Shino stood up and grabbed his coat. He needed to clear his head, to get out of the station and away from the suffocating weight of the case. He decided to take a stroll through the market, hoping that the familiar sights and sounds of Hisako would help him think. He opened the door of his office and slowly started to make his way out.

"Izumi, I'm going to head out for a little while, please make sure to write any reports that come up. And if you need anything, please call me immediately" Shino told Izumi. Izumi was the assistant, front desk lady of the police station. Though she was very quiet, she always proved to be a huge help to Shino whenever he needed her.

"Will sure do sir"-Izumi answered, politely.

The market was bustling with activity, the air filled with the scent of fresh produce, sizzling street food, and the occasional whiff of incense from a nearby shrine. Shino walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the crowd. He stopped at a few stalls, exchanging pleasantries with the vendors and asking if they had seen or heard anything about Aki. But the answers were always the same: "No, Officer Shino, we haven't seen him."

Shino nodded politely, but inside, his frustration grew. It was as if Aki had left no mark on the world, no trail to follow. The boy was a ghost, a shadow that had slipped through the cracks of reality.

As he continued his walk, Shino found himself drawn to the edge of the market, where the stalls gave way to a narrow path leading to the town cemetery. He hadn't planned to go there, but something about the quiet, solemn atmosphere called to him. Maybe it was the need to escape the noise, or maybe it was something deeper, something he couldn't quite put into words.

The cemetery was small and peaceful, the graves neatly arranged in rows beneath the shade of ancient trees. Shino made his way to the far corner, where a simple headstone marked the resting place of his mother. He knelt down in front of it, brushing away a few fallen leaves that had gathered on the surface.

"Hey, Mom," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me. I… I don't know what to do."

He paused, as if waiting for a response, but the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Shino sighed and sat down on the grass, leaning back against the headstone.

"I've got this case," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "A kid went missing, and I can't find him. It's like he just… disappeared. And I don't know where to look anymore. I've tried everything, but nothing adds up. I feel so lost, Mom. I don't know what to do."

He closed his eyes, letting the memories flood back. His mother had always been his rock, the one person he could turn to when things got tough. She had a way of making everything seem simpler, of helping him see the path forward. But now, she was gone, and Shino felt more alone than ever.

"I just wish you were here," he said, his voice breaking. "I wish you could tell me what to do. I feel like I'm failing, like I'm letting everyone down. And I'm so scared, Mom. I'm scared that I'll never find him, that he'll just… disappear, like Dad did."

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Shino's father had disappeared when he was just a boy, vanishing without a trace. No one had ever found out what happened to him, and the mystery had haunted Shino his entire life. It was the reason he had become a policeman, the reason he had dedicated himself to finding the missing and bringing them home. But now, faced with a case that mirrored his own past, Shino felt the old wounds reopening.

He sat there for a long time, the silence of the cemetery wrapping around him like a blanket. The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the graves, and the air grew cooler. Shino shivered, but he didn't move. He couldn't. The weight of his thoughts held him in place, anchoring him to the spot.

Finally, he stood up, brushing the grass from his pants. He placed a hand on his mother's headstone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of her name.

"I'll figure it out, Mom," he said, his voice firm now. "I'll find him. I won't let him disappear like Dad did. I promise."

As he turned to leave, a cold breeze swept through the cemetery, sending a shiver down his spine. Shino paused, his eyes scanning the rows of graves. For a moment, he thought he saw something—a shadow, a figure, standing at the edge of the trees. But when he blinked, it was gone.

Shino shook his head, chalking it up to his imagination. But as he walked back to the market, the feeling lingered, a nagging sense of unease that he couldn't shake.

That night, Shino lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The case files were spread out on the floor beside him, but he couldn't bring himself to look at them. His mind kept drifting back to the cemetery, to the shadow he thought he had seen. Was it just his imagination, or was there something more to it? And why did this case feel so familiar, so eerily similar to his father's disappearance?

Shino turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come. Instead, he found himself replaying the events of the day, searching for something he might have missed.

And then it hit him.

"This is so similar," he whispered into the darkness. "Too similar. Just like Dad…"

His voice trailed off, the words hanging in the air like a curse. Shino's heart raced as the realization sank in. He was scared—not just for Aki, but for himself. Scared that history was repeating itself, that he was destined to fail just as he had failed to find his father.

Scared that, no matter how hard he tried, he would never find the missing kid.