Chapter 1: The Lost Wish

The old shrine stood at the edge of the city, hidden between the dense trees of an abandoned park. It had long been forgotten by the locals, a relic of an era no one spoke about anymore. The once-proud torii gate was now weathered and cracked, its deep red paint peeling off like dried blood. Ren pulled his jacket closer around him as the evening air grew sharp, the sun setting behind the hills, casting long, distorted shadows across the shrine grounds.

He had heard the rumors before—the whispers among students who dared each other to visit after dark. "Make a wish at the shrine," they said, "and something will answer." Some believed it granted desires, others claimed it brought only misfortune. But Ren had no interest in superstitions. He wasn't here for the thrill of urban legends—he was here because he had nothing else to lose.

Standing before the ancient structure, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His fingers fumbled for a coin in his pocket, pulling out a single ten-yen piece. The coin felt cold against his palm as he stared at the small offering box. A part of him hesitated—what exactly was he wishing for? Was this even worth it?

He thought of Kira. The memory came unbidden, sharp as a blade.

Shaking his head, he stepped forward, recalling the traditional steps of offering a prayer. With a deep breath, he tossed the coin into the offering box. It landed with a hollow clink, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet air. Bowing twice deeply, he brought his hands together and clapped twice, the sharp sound cutting through the silence. The echo lingered, as if the shrine itself had breathed in response. He closed his eyes, pressing his hands together in silent prayer.

"I wish—"

The wind picked up suddenly, rustling the trees in an eerie whisper. The wooden boards beneath his feet creaked, as if something unseen had just shifted. A chime rang softly in the distance, though there was no wind strong enough to move the old shrine bells.

Ren swallowed. The weight of the air around him changed, as if the very atmosphere had thickened. He could feel it—something watching, listening.

"I wish… I had someone who truly understands me."

For a moment, nothing happened.

"I wish you were here with me, Kira."

Again nothing happened. Then, the silence grew heavier, pressing against his skin like an unseen force. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long, shifting, twisting—

A sharp pain shot through his heart. He stumbled back, gripping his head as his vision blurred. The world tilted, the shrine distorting before his eyes. He barely registered the sensation of falling before everything went black.

The last thing he heard was the distant sound of bells ringing—slow, deliberate, and ominous.