The Road, the Rain, and the Old Woman

DONG… DONG… DONG…
Midnight.The sound echoes through the castle like a wave.
Everything freezes for a moment.The steam stops dancing, the sounds go silent, the doors go still.
Hana, with her flute around her neck, quietly heads toward the third door on the left.She holds her breath, opens the door, and steps into the darkness.
The metal stairs groan beneath her feet.Down below, the bicycle waits.
She climbs on. Starts pedaling.
The dark path gives way to light.
The forest air is clear. The moonlight seems to wash over everything.The trees are tall, their leaves hanging low, the ground damp.
She hasn’t gone far whenan old woman, hunched, sits by the roadside.
She raises her hand.– “Hey, girl… got a little water?”
Hana brakes.She takes out her small canteen and hands it over.
The old woman sips and says:– “You know? This’ll be the last time you see me. Not till next year.I can feel it, somehow.But tonight… I have to get home. Before the rain.”
Hana looks at her.She brushes the woman’s hair with her little comb.
– “Hop on. I’ll take you.”
The old woman gives a faint smile and climbs on.
They ride through the trees.Moonlight dances across the branches.
A few turns later, they reach the old woman’s house—overflowing with big flowers.Pots line the steps, the walls green.
The old woman gets off, bends down, and starts pulling weeds.
– “It has to be tidy… in case a guest comes tonight.People always clean their homes when it’s time to go.”
When she’s done, she smiles and says:
– “Go on, girl. Your path is clear.”
Hana gets on the bike.The old woman waves to her.
A few meters ahead… the sky darkens.The wind howls.Rain starts suddenly.Big drops soak the wheels.
The small umbrella tied to the back of the bike suddenly pops open.Like a bird’s wing, it spins above Hana’s head and shields her from the rain.
Hana smiles.Wipes a drop from her face and pedals harder…