The Trial of Unburdening

Stepping onto the sandy shore of the island, a strange melancholy washed over them. The island exuded sadness, and a sense of oppression began to squeeze all four of their hearts. The trees stared down forlornly, and the sight of the decaying grass scattered here and there was forlorn.

They looked back at the boat, but it had already vanished from the water, as if it had never been there.

A strange, amorphous, gargoyle-like, and almost transparent creature flew right through Ren's body. He felt nothing, yet he recoiled. These creatures circled them and the entire island, flapping their wings.

"What are these?" Zel asked, staring ahead with his mouth agape.

They cautiously moved closer, but the creatures didn't seem to notice them. They muttered in a language that was understandable but barely audible, saying things like, "I can't believe it..." or "It's not enough..." as if muttering their endless regrets.

Haku tried to poke one of the creatures with her index finger, but it passed right through the transparent body.

Lily leaned against a gray tree, watching the unfolding events with a cryptic smile, as if she had already solved the island's entire secret. "Ghosts. The spirits of the dead."

"How do you know that? Can you see their magic?" Ren demanded.

"They don't have any. I can hear what they're saying. Things they regret, or would change if they could go back."

Ren stepped closer, but nothing happened. He looked back over his shoulder at the girls and Zel questioningly. Suddenly, the world began to spin. He fell onto all fours but still saw Zel, Haku, and Lily follow suit. Something was happening on the island; it was trying to absorb them.

A faint, musty scent of old wood filled Haku's lungs. She scrambled up from the floor of a strange room and looked around. She stepped over to an old, wooden display cabinet. Her finger slid across the glass, picking up thick dust. Behind the glass, ceramic figurines of angels and seals stared back at her. Soft music reached her ears from the level below. Sliding her hand along the banister, she descended the rickety stairs.

She entered a room with no door. An older woman sat at the head of the table. She was wearing a thin nightgown, ready for bed. The wrinkles on her face and the clock ticking loudly above her head emphasized the relentless march of time. In front of her, on the white, soft-touch, lace tablecloth, sat a bowl of food that was completely cold.

The woman didn't notice Haku's presence. She just sat and stared ahead, like one of the living dead. The oni pulled out the chair next to the woman and sat down, waiting to see what would happen. But nothing did. After hours of doing nothing, a single tear tracked down the woman's cheek as she got up, covered the food with a dishtowel, stopped the record player, and went up to her room.

Haku remained at the table, wondering what was happening around her. Suddenly, she heard a creaking from the stairs, and the woman re-entered the room. She put on the same record she had just stopped and reheated the food. She sat down, and the hours-long wait began again, repeating itself in precisely the same way. The woman put on the music and sat behind the warm food until it was completely cold, then went up to her bed.

Haku noticed that the clock hands snapped back after the woman came down the stairs again. She was trapped in a perfect, unchanging loop.

Haku pushed herself up and walked around the house. Here, she was the ghost. She could grab and move everything, but these objects returned to their original places after the clock reset.

She didn't know what to do; it was as if she had been thrown into the deep end. She sat cross-legged on the floor, put her hands under her chin, and closed her eyes. She knew she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, so she thought about what her two smartest friends, Ren and Lily, would do in this situation. Ren would ask questions: "What is the woman waiting for?" "Why does she heat food if she doesn't eat it?" "Why is she so sad?" "Why does she wait for hours doing nothing?"

And then something came to her. A small memory: coming home late one night as a child because she had practiced her sword fighting for too long. Her mother had sat in the chair near the front door, her expression one of anger. She had scolded Haku, then pressed a kiss to her face and put dinner in front of her. The older woman was waiting for someone to come home. Her child or her husband?

In the bedroom, she found framed pictures of both of them next to the bed. One showed a smiling, gap-toothed little girl who looked very much like the older woman downstairs. The other showed a man posing in camouflage clothes, making a funny pout. In one of the drawers, Haku found an unopened, handwritten letter. She opened it, but it was written in a language she didn't know. The letters on the paper transformed before her eyes into something she could read. It said: "Dear Mom, My daughter was born, and we are so happy! Please share in this joy! Dad left a long time ago, and you need to accept that! I forgive you for neglecting me during your grief. But I was grieving too, and I wish my mother had stood by me! We can't change the past, but I want to give you a new chance. You're a grandmother now; I want you to be a part of her life, at least. With love, your daughter, Amanda."

Next to the paper was a small photo of a baby, which made Haku feel a slight tug of emotion.

She gathered the two framed pictures and placed them on the dining table, but the woman only moved them away with a look of pain on her face. This action triggered something in Haku. The woman was sad because the person she was waiting for was no longer coming home. She was lonely. Haku's heart ached painfully. She quietly stepped next to the woman and laid her hand on hers, but it passed right through her body.

She knew what she had to do, but she didn't want to do it. It would mean she would have to face it, too.

Reluctantly, she went back up to the bedroom and emptied the contents of the wardrobes. She found the green cap the man in the photo was wearing and a photo album with happy, shared pictures.

While the woman was upstairs, Haku unpacked the items on the table and lit candles, creating an altar-like atmosphere. Photos of her daughter, husband, and granddaughter, the letter, and the cap. She wanted to remind the woman that her husband was dead and that if she didn't accept it, she would spend the rest of her days in suffering. Just as Haku also had to let go of her Master's hand so that she could move on with her new family.

No matter what bad things her Master had done, he was the person who took her in when she had nothing and no one, and he raised her. Nothing could change the gratitude she felt toward him. But people aren't black or white; her Master could be both white and black, and there was nothing wrong with condemning the bad in him.

The older woman approached the dining room, taking the exact steps she always did, but she stopped in the doorway. Something lit up in her eyes as she took a trembling step closer. She began to pick up the items one by one. Hot tears streamed down her face as she read the letter. She pressed the picture of the baby to her chest and stepped over to an old telephone to dial someone.

"Amanda, hello darling. How are you? Congratulations on your beautiful little girl! She looks just like you!"

The things unfolding before Haku went silent. She saw the woman speaking with a gentle smile, but couldn't hear what she was saying. The scene vanished, and Haku found herself alone in a white void. She spun around, confused, as the voice, dry as parchment and cold as grave dust, whispered: "Choose. Which painful memory will you surrender to the emptiness?"

Haku shivered, even though she felt no cold. She defensively clasped her hands in front of her. If someone had asked her this earlier, she would have left some of her memories behind, such as the loss of her parents, her Master's evil deeds, or perhaps his good ones. But all her memories defined her, and she loved feeling so much.

"I'm not leaving a damn thing!"