Year 1987.
The evening sky was a pale orange, like an old photograph beginning to lose its colors. From the window of The Lantern House orphanage, I watched the sunlight slip through the worn curtains, forming thin striped patterns on the wooden floor. The smell of laundry soap and dust blended in the cold air. I was still five years old, and had only just truly realized that I lived in this world.
I didn't know since when I had been here. All I knew was—
I was born on August 21, 1982, and somehow, no one welcomed me into this world except my own first cry.
I didn't have a father, didn't have a mother.
All I had was a name: Ozaki Arata, the name that was said to be written on a small cloth wrapped around my body when I was found at the orphanage door.
Among everyone in The Lantern House, only one person always felt warm to me—Elissa.
Elissa was twenty-nine years old, born on May 2, 1958, and had worked in the orphanage since she was a teenager. Her hair was long, dark brown, always tied back. Her hands were cold but gentle. She always looked at me with an expression I couldn't explain—somewhere between affection, fear, and worry.
"She's too protective," the other kids said.
But I didn't mind.
To me, Elissa was like the mother I had never met.
She always knew when I was sad, knew when I lied, and knew when I felt lonely.
"Don't go too far, Oza," she said every time I played in the yard.
I only nodded, though deep down I sometimes wanted so badly to see the world outside the orphanage gate. The world that was said to be full of colors.
---
Day 1
That day, the orphanage caretakers decided we would take a walk outside. They said it was to refresh the children's minds. Our destination was Terataiflow Flower Garden, a garden famous for its wide lotus pond and water that reflected the sky like glass. It wasn't far from the orphanage—just a path past the edge of the swamp.
I still remember that morning. The air was damp and the sun was only halfway up. We walked together, small laughs echoing, carrying packed bread and box milk. But Elissa didn't come.
She said, "I have to sort out the donation records. You all be careful, okay?"
I nodded again, though in my heart I really wished she had come.
Without Elissa, I felt like a boat that had lost its anchor.
---
When we arrived at the garden, I immediately ran toward the lotus pond.
The flowers were so beautiful—their petals large, soft, floating on light green water. I crouched, watching my reflection on the water's surface. My reflection wobbled whenever the wind passed. Somehow, I felt like I was looking at someone else from behind the water.
I leaned in deeper, staring at that reflection for a long time.
Maybe too long.
When I finally stood up again, everything felt… strange.
Silent.
There were no sounds of my friends' laughter. No caretakers calling. No footsteps in the grass.
I looked to the right, then to the left. Empty.
The group that had been with me had disappeared just like that.
"Hello?" I called.
No answer.
Only the sound of swamp water and the song of insects, which strangely sounded louder than usual. I began to panic, but then my eyes caught something in the distance—a small shop by the dirt road. In front of it were two men.
At first I thought they were talking. But they weren't.
Their voices were rising.
One of them pushed the other's hand away, and a small metallic object caught the sunlight—a folding knife.
I swallowed hard, watching from behind a tree.
My body was trembling, but my curiosity was stronger than my fear.
The man holding the knife looked thin, his eyes dark, his clothes worn like they hadn't been washed in weeks. His opponent, who seemed to be the shop owner, tried to calm him down, hands raised, speaking softly.
But it was useless.
Everything happened so fast.
The thin man suddenly pointed at the roof and said in a heavy voice, "Hey, what's that up there?"
The shop owner reflexively looked up. And in that split second, the knife pierced his neck. Right beneath his Adam's apple.
I let out a small scream, covering my mouth with both hands.
Blood flowed heavily, forming a pool in front of the shop. The victim fell to his knees, his hands trying to cover a wound that could never be closed. Strange sounds came from his throat, like a person trying to speak underwater.
I wanted to run, but my legs froze.
The killer took a deep breath, looked around, then stared toward the swamp… toward me.
I quickly hid behind the tree. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it ringing in my ears.
I bit my lip, trying not to sob.
When I dared to look again, the man was gone.
No one was there.
Only the shop owner's body lying still, and the insects singing again as if nothing had happened.
I stepped slowly, very slowly, toward the shop.
My step made a snapping sound against a twig.
The smell of blood mixed with the scent of metal and wet wood. I stopped at the doorway, staring at the body.
His eyes were still open, gazing at the sky.
And strangely, behind his neck, I saw something—a crescent-shaped mark as if carved into his skin.
I didn't know why, but that mark made my body tremble even harder.
From behind the swamp mist, I heard something… footsteps.
Slowly, I backed away.
Then ran as fast as I could toward the lotus garden, hoping to find my friends or anyone. But the garden… had changed.
The lotus flowers that had been white were now dark pink, and the water reflected a sky of deep purple.
As if the world had changed while I looked away for just a moment.
I tripped and fell. On the damp ground, I looked up at the sky that was growing dark.
"E… Elissa…" I whispered.
But the only reply was my own echo.
From afar, I heard footsteps approaching, slow and steady.
I closed my eyes, hoping it was Elissa. But when I opened them, the figure I saw wasn't her.
Someone stood on the wooden bridge across the swamp.
Their silhouette tall, but their face unseen—covered by mist.
Only the eyes were visible. Eyes that reflected a faint red… like embers alive in the dark.
I didn't know who they were, but I knew one thing:
The world I had known just moments before had changed.
And that day, at the Terataiflow flower garden, was the day I first witnessed death—
and something even more terrifying than that.
---
To be continued…