Chapter 5: The Temple Beyond Time

The taxi came to a slow halt, tires crunching against the gravel of a misty forest path. As the driver shifted the gear into neutral, silence fell—so absolute that even the ticking of the car’s cooling engine sounded loud.

Ryu stepped out, his shoes landing softly on the damp earth.

“This is where the path starts,” the driver said, nodding toward a narrow trail hidden between two towering cedar trees. At its entrance stood an old torii gate, worn by time, half-swallowed by ivy and mist.

Ryu clutched the strap of his bag tighter. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The driver gave him a long, unreadable look. “Whatever you're hoping to find... walk with your heart.”

And with that, he drove away, the red tail lights disappearing into the morning fog.

Ryu stood alone before the crumbling gate. A part of him wanted to turn back—maybe all of this was just a delusion driven by grief and desperation. But another part, deeper and louder, urged him forward.

He stepped through the torii.

The temple sat ahead, partially hidden by trees and shadow. At first glance, it looked close—no more than a ten-minute walk. The path leading toward it was lined with faded stone lanterns and fallen leaves, and the air smelled of moss and time.

But as Ryu began walking, something strange began to happen.

The temple didn’t get any closer.

He walked for minutes. Then half an hour. His footsteps echoed off the silence, but the silhouette on the hill remained exactly where it had been. Distant. Still. Untouched by time or step.

His breaths grew heavier. His limbs started to shake. “Why… won’t it get closer?” he whispered, glancing behind him. The torii gate had vanished into fog. Only the winding path remained.

He continued. One foot in front of the other. A hundred steps. A thousand.

Still, the temple seemed to float on the horizon like a mirage.

He stopped and dropped to his knees.

It was hopeless. Impossible.

“What did I expect? That some magical temple would fix everything? That I could just show up and bring her back?”

He slammed his fist into the dirt.

“I’m a fool.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks, warm against the morning chill. “I just… want to see her again… Why is that so much to ask?”

His sobs echoed into the woods, carried by the wind. The weight of loss crushed him, dragging him lower than the earth beneath his knees.

But then—softly—he heard her voice.

Not in the air. Not in the forest.

But inside his mind.

“I love you, Ryu.”

He froze.

The memory of her smile—the way her eyes had shimmered under the umbrella—the way her hair danced in the wind on the day she left for the trip—it all flooded back in one overwhelming wave.

He stood again, shaking.

“No. I’m not giving up.”

He wiped his tears on his sleeve, lifted his head, and kept walking. With every agonizing step, he whispered her name. “Rose… Rose… wait for me…”

Then suddenly, the air changed.

The mist parted.

And the temple was right there.

He gasped.

It stood before him, ancient and majestic. From the outside, it looked like a forgotten shrine—weathered wood, crumbling stone stairs, moss-covered lanterns. But as he stepped through the gate and into the main hall, the illusion shattered.

The inside was immaculate.

Polished stone tiles gleamed under the soft light of floating lanterns. Towering statues lined the hall, each representing gods or guardians—kneeling, praying, bowing toward a single white wall at the far end of the chamber.

And that wall—

It radiated warmth. Grace. Reverence.

Ryu’s knees buckled beneath him.

He dropped into a kneel beside the statues.

He didn’t know the rituals.

Didn’t know the gods.

But he bowed his head.

And spoke from his heart.

“I don’t know who you are or if you’re even listening… But please… bring her back to me. Let me see her again. Let me tell her what I couldn’t. Let me hold her hand again… just once. Please…”

His voice broke.

Tears fell freely. His shoulders trembled.

He pressed his forehead to the ground and sobbed.

“I’ll do anything… anything… Just give me one more chance.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty.

It felt… accepting.

Then came a sound.

Not words. Not music.

A soft, rhythmic step. Hoofbeats.

He lifted his head.

Standing at the far end of the hall, between the statues, was a reindeer—its fur shimmering like morning mist, its eyes deep and timeless.

It stared directly at him.

And then turned slowly.

As if beckoning him to follow.

Ryu stood.

His legs moved on their own.

And without questioning, without thinking—

He followed.

As though fate had opened a door.

And invited him to step through it.

To be continued…