Renko's Story
It's been a few years since it everything changed. You were a college student then, wide-eyed and fresh-faced, ready to take on the worst the world could throw at you. Few of your classes were of any interest to you, and the tedium and drudgery of academia often grated on you, but the sealing club that you were part of made up for it by far. Some days, it was the only thing you really looked forward to: after endless hours of dull lectures, you'd retreat to the room set aside for your club's use to meet with her.
There, amidst the dusty tomes that lined the walls and the tattered maps laid out on the table and the warmth of companionship, you truly felt alive. You would plan out an escape for the weekend, somewhere remote, somewhere far removed from the noise and sense of urgency that pervaded city life. You vaguely remember visiting dozens of secluded shrines and deserted cemeteries. They all had a sort of stark beauty, those places that you visited, so far removed from heavy hand imposed by modern life.
It's difficult to remember now just what you were looking for there, or whether you found that which you sought, but you can still the feel of that person's hand in yours, her golden hair and bright smile that was, at least to you, so very memorable. In the end, even if you never found what you were looking for, the outings were still worth it, if only for the chance to be with your dearest friend.
Strange then, that, despite how you can so clearly recall what it felt to be with her, you can't remember her name.
It was during the spring of your third year that it happened. You'd visited an art gallery the afternoon before - some exhibition of contemporary art done in a classical style that had been heavily advertised in the papers. It had been thoroughly unremarkable despite all of the hype. The quality of the art had certainly been high enough, but the works lacked something... essential. Each and every one you'd seen had been entirely uninspiring, flat, static, without any of the creativity or passion that brought paintings to life. She'd lingered over the paintings, though, hovering over them and tracing the sharp strokes of the brush with her fingers. You'd suspected that she was seeing something you did not.
That night, she slept fitfully, waking you at times with strangled shouts and moans that no doubt originated from dreams of a less than pleasant nature.
And then, when you'd checked on her the next morning, the room that she'd lived in had been completely empty, with nothing inside save for a thin layer of dust, left from what appeared to be months of disuse, without a single item left from her former inhabitance. Even large chunks of the photo albums you'd painstakingly pieced together with her had simply vanished, her image gone from the few glossy prints that you had left. It was almost as if she had disappeared from the world without a single trace to mark her existence.
For a few days afterwards, you'd wandered around in a daze. A few inquiries had quickly shown that the university had never had any 'sealing club' on record, and the only name that remained on the lease for your apartment was your own. It was about then that you realized just how fuzzy your memories of her were. And when you could not even remember your own best friend's name, who else could help you in searching for her?
In the end, you'd managed to convince yourself that what you remembered had simply been a dream. A beautiful, wonderful dream, but still a dream nonetheless, and one which you had just awoken from to find yourself alone in a harsh, hostile world. You hadn't made many friends during school besides her, and you were afraid. Afraid of being mocked for what apparently had been your own delusions, afraid of being labeled as unstable and insane, afraid of being burned again by yet another close friend who truly did not exist, afraid of the strange new world that you found yourself in. There was nothing you could do about it - nothing that could possibly change the the fact that the world you knew had suddenly and irrevocably changed.
The time since then has been lonely. With nothing better to do, you spend what little spare time you have travelling to the various places you remember having visited together, before it all happened, hoping for some indication that you hadn't simply hallucinated away three years of your life. It doesn't help. There's nothing in the overgrown cemeteries and deserted shrines and lush forests besides the quiet tranquility of places slowly being reclaimed by the world. To be honest, at this point, after being met with disappointment after disappointment, you go mostly so you can have something to do, something to distract you from the days and weeks of your life you've been slowly wasting in the lab, toiling away in your half-hearted attempts to finish your doctorate degree.
It gives you some sort of peace, to just lie back and relax and listen to the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, or to walk in the still silence of the newly fallen snow, or to look down upon the world from craggy mountain peaks.
Which is why you find yourself hiking here. Aokigahara, the sea of trees. It's a place that quite the bad reputation - it is, after all, known for being a place where people go to die. You'd be lying if you say that you'd never considered it, back in those first few days after, well... In any case, that's not why you're here. No, you're simply here to find a remote place far away from human habitation, somewhere quiet where you can relax and not have to worry about the stresses imposed by your life.
You head into the forest in the early afternoon, armed with nothing more than a digital camera and a small backpack with a day's worth of food and water. You get a few strange looks as you wander off of the marked trails, but you ignore everyone else and wander deeper into the forest. You like these places. It's peaceful here, so far removed from the harsh mechanical sounds characteristic to human presence. The dense foliage absorbs sound, and even the cries of the various birds and beasts native to the forest sound strangely muted.
The calm quiet atmosphere almost makes you want to find a place where you can simply sit back against a tree and relax. Maybe even sleep a few hours. Yes, some sleep might be nice. All this hiking has been quite tiring. Maybe you should stop and rest for a while. You could go to sleep and not have to wake up, not have to worry about your own troubles, not have to... You shake your head violently to wake yourself back up. You're over this already. You know you are. It's just this forest that you're in, that's all.
It starts getting quieter as you walk deeper and deeper into the forest, almost eerily so. The air is still, and the only sounds around are the swish and occasional crunch of your boots against the underbrush and the forest floor and the labored sound of your own breathing. Judging from where the sun is in the sky, you've only been walking for a few hours, but it already feels as if you're in an alien world. Of the many places you've visited before now, this is the first time that you've found a place just like this. That there can be such a pristine, untouched placed even after so many years of urbanization is remarkable. It feels almost magical.
You stop for a moment to drink some water and to admire the scenery. When you step forwards again, though, your vision blurs for a moment as a splitting headache hits you for a moment. You sit down against a tree and lower your head into your lap, pressing a hand against your forehead. The pain goes away as quickly as it came, and soon enough you stand once again, ready to move forward once again. And then it hits you.
A few steps in front of you, where dense forest had once grown, there's now a winding dirt road, one that weaves its way around a few hillocks and off into the horizon, where a few peaks tower over the surrounding landscape. You blink and rub your eyes. No, it's still there. Just a moment ago, you were deep in this dense forest, but now you're facing a grassy meadow and that dirt road, lined on both sides by giant patches of red spider lilies. Slowly, carefully, you step out from the forest and onto the dirt road. You step forward again, and again, and suddenly something shifts behind you, and suddenly, the forest fringe behind you has suddenly disappeared, leaving only a featureless dirt road leading off into the hazy distance, flanked on both sides by the red flowers.
And so with nowhere else to go, you walk forwards. As you go further and further, a quiet voice pops up in your mind. It's too quiet. You should turn back. Leave while you still can. But that can't be right. The forest that you came from is no longer there for you to return to. Still, something about this whole place sets your whole body on edge with the prickly sensation that you get late at night when you think someone - or something - is watching.
The road slowly winds its way up hill, and even as you walk further and further, the spider lilies thin out, giving way at first to tall grasses and then to a type of tiny, bell-shaped white flower that you don't recognize, growing in small chains, gently bobbing up and down as you pass by.
You're wheezing and out of breath by the time that you crest the final hill, giving you a breathtaking look into a beautiful mountain valley. It seems that you're more out of shape than you'd expected, if so little walking has managed to tire you out this much. You plop down for a moment in the field to rest, looking across at the beautiful expanse. Another mountain sits across the valley from you, its slopes covered in deep green forest. A small gap between the trees marks the path of a winding road that makes its way up the mountain, terminating at the very top, where a small shrine sits next to a placid pond studded with pillars sticking out of the surface of the water. The road you've been following cuts across a river that runs through the middle of the valley using a small footbridge, leading into the dense forest beyond. And even further in the distance, on the other side of the forest, a few tiny houses stand in the middle of a ring of cultivated fields.
You're not really sure where to head from here, to be honest. As you are now, you're feeling quite tired and drowsy, and it may just be best to rest a while on this hill. It wouldn't do to collapse halfway to your next destination, after all. Or maybe you could walk somewhere through your fatigue. Maybe it'll work. Who knows?
[ ] Stay here and rest a while. You'll need the energy to keep moving later on.
[ ] Try to make your way up to the shrine on the mountain.
[ ] Head towards the village on the other side of the forest.
[ ] Something else.