Prologue: There’s Only One Place to Go

The golden morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating the serene, aged face of an elderly woman who stared firmly at the distant mountains.

She barely noticed when a figure approached, entering the room without saying a word.

He stood there for a moment, quietly watching the old woman savor a morning that most people would consider ordinary.

After a long sigh, the woman turned and simply smiled, as if she had been expecting the visitor now standing before her.

“So, the day has finally come, huh?” she said.

“Do you know who I am?”

“I have a vague idea,” she replied with a restrained chuckle. “You’ve come to take me, haven’t you?”

His only answer was a soft, gentle smile.

Most would have been frightened by his presence. Some would scream or deny what was happening, others might even beg for a few more moments. But the old woman was different. She wasn’t afraid of him. One could even say she had been waiting for this moment with a certain excitement.

“Shall we, then? I’ll prepare something I’m almost sure you’ll enjoy,” he said, extending his hand.

The woman obediently accepted the offer from the tall, slender figure with kind eyes. His face was clean and calm, and his smile was comforting and friendly.

She blinked slowly and, when she opened her eyes again, they were no longer in that small room. The place was completely different, yet she didn’t feel out of place. It was a warm, intimate space, resembling a small café.

In the center, several tables and chairs were neatly arranged under a soft, minimalist light. There was also a large counter, to which the figure walked straight away, rolling up his sleeves and preparing utensils the woman couldn’t quite identify from a distance, though the way he handled them suggested pots, bowls, forks, knives, and spoons.

If she hadn’t known who the man was, she might have assumed he was a chef, proudly preparing something in his kitchen.

“Please, make yourself at home. Sit wherever you like. The meal will be ready soon,” he said, never taking his eyes off the ingredients in front of him.

She approached the counter and sat on one of the stools, resting her elbows and leaning her head on her fists, mesmerized by the grace with which the man sliced ingredients and dropped them into a bubbling pot.

“You know, I always tried to imagine what this place would be like, but this is nothing like what I expected.”

“Over the years, I tried more festive themes, like robot clowns and party balloons... but I think this vibe appeals to most of the people who come here,” he said, turning to her with a wide smile. His teeth seemed to shine under the light.

“If I weren’t married, I might fall for that smile,” she said, adjusting on the stool.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend that. Most people don’t handle ultra-hyper-mega-long-distance relationships very well.”

“I’m just teasing you,” she replied with a soft laugh. “There’s no one else in the world like my husband. Actually… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask this, but I was wondering when I’ll get to see him. You know… it’s been nearly forty years.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him later. But for now, wouldn’t you like to try what I made?” he said as he finished preparing a bowl. “Not to brag, but no one’s ever complained about my cooking.”

He walked over and gently placed the bowl in front of her, along with a pair of chopsticks. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw it. It was a dish she knew well, though it had been a long time since she’d tasted it.

“How… how did you know?”

“Let’s just say I have my secrets,” he replied, placing a towel over his shoulder.

Through the rising steam was a beautiful bowl of ramen. Its appearance alone could tempt anyone to dig in. The noodles were thick and golden, cooked to perfection. The broth was rich and flavorful, not greasy or heavy. Generous chunks of meat, eggs, and vegetables completed the dish.

She stared at it for a while, but what brought a tear to her cheek was a small, unusual detail.

“My husband used to put tofu in his ramen too.”

“I know. That’s why I made it this way,” he said, smiling. “Go on, try it. I want to know what you think.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and bowed slightly as she brought a spoonful of broth to her lips. Then, with some effort, she picked up the noodles with the chopsticks. She repeated the process until the bowl was completely empty.

The entire time, she didn’t say a word. And he stayed quietly by her side, watching her enjoy a dish once prepared long ago by her beloved husband.

When she finished, she let out a gentle sigh. The figure stood and walked over to a shelf in the corner. With a wave, the books upon it began to move, flipping through themselves like pages in the wind. He pulled one out and returned to her, who watched with surprise.

“Sorry to startle you,” he said, placing the book on the counter.

“I just wasn’t expecting that,” she replied.

When he opened the book, the pages were blank. She looked at him, puzzled.

“Just give it a second,” he said as if he knew what she was thinking.

Then, the pages began to fill, one by one, with words that seemed to dance across the paper.

“This book will hold the record of your life. From the moment you were born to the moment we met.”

He sat beside her and began to flip through it. Sometimes he smiled; other times, he furrowed his brow at passages that looked like they were written in a language he didn’t quite understand. She followed along, intrigued, noticing parts she had almost forgotten with time.

“Look at this part,” she pointed. “Right after our second son moved out. I was so sad… but I knew he needed to live his own life.”

“And your husband?”

“Oh, he reacted differently. He was more worried about me than about the move. He comforted me, made his amazing ramen with tofu… and in the end, everything was alright.”

She spoke with wonder, highlighting her husband’s warmth. He just listened, trying to understand why all of it made her so happy.

“You seem to have lived a good life.”

“I have no complaints.”

They kept reading and talking about the moments of her life. Her heart warmed as she recalled tender memories. Childhood with friends, her first date, first kiss, wedding, the birth of her children… Each memory reflected her journey on Earth, and how joyful it had been, surrounded by such wonderful people.

The figure beside her watched with affection, though something in his eyes betrayed a quiet confusion as if he couldn’t fully grasp what it was that made this woman so happy.

But their pleasant time together was coming to an end. The book had reached its final page.

“I’d love to hear more stories… but I think it’s time,” he said, standing up. “That door is your next destination.”

She looked where he pointed, curious and a little anxious, but unafraid. She rose and walked slowly toward the door. A bright, radiant light spilled through the cracks, inviting her closer. When she reached it, the door opened. Its aura wrapped around her, but she remained still for a moment, gazing into that vast, infinite beyond.

Before stepping through, she turned back to him.

“Thank you for the meal. It was truly delicious.”

He answered with a warm, farewell smile. She returned it and walked toward the light. As she passed through the doorway, it gently closed behind her, taking with it the kind spirit of the little old lady who had once been there.

He sighed and picked up the book. Flipping through it again, he smiled for a few moments, though he didn’t quite know why.

Then he placed it back on the shelf, alongside many others.

He searched through more books, flipping through them quickly until he paused and murmured:

“I just don’t get it… They wait a lifetime to reunite, make irrational decisions, get close without reason… None of it makes sense.”

He sat at the counter, gazing at the now-empty bowl.

“Whatever it is they feel… it seems nice.”

He stood up, put the books away, and in that moment, felt something new stir within him. A spark. A calling.

He didn’t know what to call it. But he knew he had to find out.

And to do that, there was only one place to go:

He would have to go to the world of humans.