Chapter 4: The Whisper Before Sunrise

Ryu returned home that night with the words of the taxi driver looping in his mind like a broken melody. “If you visit the temple before sunrise and make a wish with a pure heart, it might come true…” It sounded absurd—something out of an old folktale told to children around campfires—but something in the way the driver had spoken made it linger.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the dim light that filtered through his window blinds. The room was the same, yet colder. The silence seemed to hum with the sound of her laughter, her voice, her absence. He clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Could it really happen? he thought. Could she come back? He pictured her smile. The way she blushed when she confessed. The kiss they shared beneath the rain. He could still feel the softness of her lips, the trembling in her breath. And then the void that followed. The hospital. The flowers. The weight of grief too heavy for a boy his age.

He stood and walked to the small drawer beside his desk. He opened it slowly, as if it might bite. Inside was the photograph they had taken together during their last summer trip—a souvenir from a life that seemed impossibly far away now. He pressed it to his chest.

“What if it’s true?” he whispered to the quiet room. “What if I can really see her again?”

The thought didn’t give him hope. It gave him purpose. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, Ryu felt something awaken inside him—a slow burning flame in the ashes.

He knew what he had to do.

He stepped into the living room where his father was watching a late-night show, the volume low. His father glanced up, surprise flickering in his tired eyes.

“Dad… can I go somewhere tonight?” Ryu asked.

His father raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

“It’s a temple. In Kyoto. There’s a prayer I want to offer… for Rose,” he said carefully.

His father paused. There was a heaviness in his gaze. “Now? It’s nearly midnight.”

“I won’t stay long. Just one prayer, before sunrise. I just… I need to do this.”

After a long silence, his father sighed and looked away. “Take a jacket. It’ll be cold.”

Ryu nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

He left home with a small backpack, a bottle of water, and the photo in his pocket. At the station, he bought a late-night ticket to Kyoto. The city lights blurred through the train window as the car hummed along the tracks, and Ryu leaned his head against the cool glass.

He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t.

His mind wandered through memories and what-ifs. Every second with Rose felt like it was calling to him from some place beyond reach. If there’s even the slightest chance… I have to try.

When he finally stepped off the train at Kyoto’s dimly lit station, the sky was still dark but beginning to blush with hints of early dawn. The cool air bit at his skin. The driver had mentioned a place near the outskirts of town, at the foot of a mountain.

He hailed a taxi, giving the name the driver had whispered before disappearing into the night: “Fushikuro Valley.”

The taxi driver nodded silently and began to drive. Kyoto faded behind them, replaced by countryside roads lined with cherry blossom trees barely visible under the moonlight. Mist started to gather around the road like wandering spirits.

Finally, the taxi came to a stop before an ancient wooden gate, half-hidden behind a wall of trees. The mist thickened, swirling around Ryu’s feet.

Beyond the gate, he could just make out the outline of a temple—quiet, otherworldly, and glowing faintly under the moon.

Ryu stepped out of the taxi and stared ahead.

The temple was waiting.

To be continued…