The Forest Girl

The sunlight flowed over Sae’s notes as she studied them; the warmth it provided her was her only company. Her interests lay outside the school, and she was considered a loner. Not bullied, just forgotten.

A chair scraped against the floor, causing Sae to look up from her sun‑bathed notes, finally. The chaos of the rest of the classroom stood in stark contrast to her peaceful corner.

“Hey, forest girl,” one of her classmates greeted her as she entered the room.

“Why did you bother talking to her?” her friends asked, one of them glancing toward Sae’s sunlit corner.

“I don’t know, I was just feeling good, I guess,” the classmate answered.

Another girl leaned in, wide-eyed with curiosity. “Why is that?”

They knew. And Sae knew that they knew. They had been talking about it since they walked in. One of the boys at school had asked her out. Sae could only shake her head; it was like they lived in a different world.

When the bell rang, the teacher entered, and the chaos found some level of order. Sae opened her textbook and listened to the lecture. She did not directly participate in the lecture, nor did anyone seem to expect her to. Another bell interrupted the teacher while he was still speaking, and Sae did not waste any time.

She placed her books in her bag and left the classroom before the teacher dismissed them. The teacher said nothing. The students paid her no mind. There was a quiet understanding that this was how things worked.

Finally free of all the chaos, Sae skipped along the road she had followed every day for years. She felt as if she could breathe again. Sometimes it felt like all the activity in the classroom sucked up all the fresh air flowing through the windows.

The road was taking her away from it all: her school and her family’s home. She had never bothered going back to change out of her uniform; there was no time for such useless tasks.

She waved to the old farmer by the fields; he returned the gesture with easy familiarity. Her bag swung from her shoulder as she walked, and she had begun to hurry. A smile crept onto her face as the forest came into view.

She stopped just short of the tree line and rummaged through her bag, pulling out the notebook she never used in school. After flipping it open to make sure everything inside was intact, she stepped happily onto the forest path.

A gentle wind brushed the trees, and for a moment, it felt as if the leaves were waving to greet her. There was no place she felt more at home than here. She looked up and waved back, just in case.

She left the main path for a rougher, less-used trail, if it could even be called one. She moved along it with ease, stepping over stones that greeted her with familiarity. Eventually, Sae stopped and surveyed the area. After a few moments, she knelt to inspect the ground.

A small shrine stood there, weathered but clearly made by a child’s hand. She pulled out her pencil and opened her notebook.

June 22nd: Shrine 46 – offering taken.

Reaching into her bag, she placed a handful of berries gently on the shrine. She scanned the area one last time for clues before heading toward the next one.

A twig snapped underfoot. The birds didn’t pause their song, as if they recognized her steps and welcomed them. She paused at an elder tree, running her fingers along the deep crack in its bark. The scent of dried moss clung to it, earthy and familiar. Something was overtaking the old trunk, yet it still stood firm, offering her a moment of shelter.

The next shrine looked newer, crafted by someone with far more experience. She scanned the area again with the same detail as the last, jotting in her notebook before even approaching.

June 22nd: Shrine 12 – birds are not present.

She knelt to inspect it. The offerings were untouched. Sae tapped her cheek with the end of her pencil, thinking through the possibilities, then added another line:

Offerings left undisturbed. Mori no otosan may have scared wildlife away.

Sae brushed her hands over the flora covering the forest floor. The soft leaves rose against her palms, as if returning the gesture. A smile appeared on her face as she thought about how magical this forest had always been for her.

When she reached the next shrine, she regained her focus. She inspected the area just as she had done with all the others. Seemingly satisfied, she knelt once more.

This shrine was newer as well. The clearing around it seemed to remember her presence; the flora cradled her as she inspected it. This one offered a handful of shiny gems instead of food. She looked at them with a little disdain, sighed, and opened her notebook.

June 22nd: Shrine 14 – jewels not taken. They may know real from fake.

Sae followed several off-beat trails, taking notes and observing the forest’s behavior. As day began to slip toward evening, she looked up through an opening in the trees. She tucked her notebook and pencil back into her bag.

“I guess this will have to do for today,” she said, just in case anyone was listening.

The forest had ears, or at least that was what her grandmother had always told her. As if in agreement, a leaf drifted down from above and landed gently in her hand. She traced its veins with her fingertips before slipping it into her notebook and zipping her bag closed.

Brushing her hands off, she said, “Guess this one wants to go with me.”

She didn’t leave the forest. Instead, she stepped a little deeper in.

Sae moved off the beaten path completely. Foliage covered the ground, tree root knots forming an unseen obstacle course. Yet she moved with precision, avoiding every hazard and sparing the ground cover.

She stopped in a clearing with no markings; it was her sanctuary. Slightly raised and untouched by humans, aside from her. At the edge of the clearing, she could see a collection of branches the trees had apparently discarded. The wind blew, and the grass danced around her as she crossed the clearing.

As Sae approached, it became clearer that it was a structure whose frame was made from fallen logs, purposely positioned to look as natural as possible. Their bark remained rough to complete the camouflage.

The roof was a collection of branches, bark, packed leaves, and mud, so thick it could be mistaken for a moss-covered mound. The entrance was cleverly hidden on a blind side with no direct access. As she slipped inside, the old tree beside the entrance released a crackling groan. She gave a slight bow, as if thanking it for welcoming her.

Once inside, Sae placed her bag on a hook that kept it safe from critters. She sat on a bed made from woven twigs. She started a fire in a small pit nearby, lighting her base with a warm, steady glow. She enjoyed the fire while looking out the window, which she had carefully placed above the pit.

A shelf across from her allowed the bed to double as a seat. She pulled a logbook from underneath the shelf and carefully placed all her notes for the day inside. When she finished, she returned the logbook. She stood to examine a hand-drawn map; its worn edges and various markings proved that it had been well used.

Sae placed colored pins marking all the shrines she had checked for the day, then looked over her accomplishments for the week. She placed a special marker where the birds had gone missing. She would need to visit that area again this weekend.

With her important work done, she reached into her bag and pulled out her school assignments. The forest offered a peace that neither school nor home ever could. Here, under its protection, even homework felt manageable.

Sae looked to the sky as she left her base; the sun would soon be setting. She closed her eyes and smiled, pleased to finish in time to be home before dark. She had accomplished everything she wanted; it was as if the forest had held back the night for her.

She was soon leaving the forest behind. The trees seemed to lift their branches so she could see the road ahead. As Sae crossed their threshold, she noticed a girl about her age standing on the porch of the old, empty house across the way.

The girl was staring straight at her, a box in her arms. A voice called from inside the house, too faint for Sae to understand. The girl turned and carried the box away.

Sae made her way home, her thoughts drifting to the girl who would now live so close to the forest.

Lucky, she thought.