The Lost Whisper

In the peak of night, a blur of movement dashed through the rooftops of Japan. A group of individuals, cloaked in black, followed their target from above. Just below them, a businessman walked alone on a silent street, his steady pace filled with much anxiety. He clutched a briefcase tightly in his right hand, his eyes darting nervously from side to side. Turning into a dimly lit alley, he was met by three shady men.

Words were exchanged in hushed tones, the briefcase's contents a mystery.

On the roof, the cloaked figures observed with keen eyes, like predators watching their prey. With a subtle nod from the leading figure, the signal was made to the others. The cloaked members dropped down from the rooftop.

The whisper of fabric.

The glint of steel.

Each of them struck down with deadly precision, the bodies of the four men falling to the ground simultaneously.

"The target has been neutralized..." A female voice stated, her tone calm and collected.

The figures then vanished into the night once more—the only evidence of the violent encounter being the lifeless bodies lying in a pool of cold blood.

7:30 a.m., September 16, 2022...The early morning sun rose over the city of Fukuoka, casting a warm glow through the curtains of a small apartment. In the corner of the dull room, an alarm clock chimed, signaling a new day for 17-year-old Kurashi Ito.

His darkened eyes slowly open as he gradually reaches over to turn the alarm off, sliding off of his futon and shuffling towards the bathroom entrance. His gaze fixed into the mirror, his emotionless eyes and messy black hair reflecting at him before showering. Turning on the faucet, Kurashi allowed the cold water to fall along his lean frame, getting lost in the sound of the water falling from above. After showering, brushing his teeth, putting on his uniform, and grabbing his bag, it was time for him to leave for school.

Another morning.

Another routine.

A cycle he followed without question, without purpose.

Throughout Kurashi's life, he lived with quiet detachment. His apartment was bare—no photos, no personal items, nothing to indicate that someone truly lived there. Rather, it was just a place to exist.

The silence of the apartment was broken when the door opened, and the outside sound of the city became prominent. Hands tucked in his pockets, he walked down the apartment stairs to the parking lot where the bike rack was located. Kurashi pulled the bike from its resting place, and the ride to school began. The travel was accompanied by the hum of distant traffic and the occasional chatting of others. Yet, Kurashi moved through the city like a ghost, blending into the background noise of a world that seemed to rush right past him.

As he arrived at the school gates, Kurashi walked past his fellow students, their voices a distant murmur that barely registered within his consciousness.

The bell rang, signaling the start of another school day.

Kurashi made his way to the back of the classroom, quietly seating himself at his desk. Around him, the room buzzed with activity. Gossiping girls talking about their plans after school. Boys absorbed in their conversations, laughing without a care in the world. Yet, Kurashi sat in silence, his gaze fixed on the window.

As the day unfolded, Kurashi continued his silent journey through the corridors of his high school.

Unseen

Unheard

He stepped through the lively environment of teenage existence to his last class.

At this time, clouds started to gather over the city, raindrops slowly sliding down the classroom windows. The light rain soon turned to heavy downfall not long after. The outside world became blurred, the view from his window now distorted by the downpour.

Then, the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. At the main entrance, Kurashi took his phone and shoes from his locker and left the school. In the pouring rain, Kurashi grabbed his bike and was on his way back home.

The city was painted grey, a blurry haze of the rain that diluted his senses.

After making it back to his apartment, he changed out of his soaked uniform into something more comfortable.

Black pants and a solid blue hoodie.

After settling down for a few hours, he turned his attention to the corner of his apartment, where cardboard shipping boxes were stacked. He walked over slowly, kneeling to open the boxes. Inside the first box, only two items remained: a worn-down journal and a carefully folded piece of paper.

Kurashi picked up the journal, unfastening the strap to see what was written inside. The pages inside were blank—except for one.

"Find your purpose, son."

Kurashi stared at the words, his expression unchanged.

It made no sense to him.

Kurashi had never known his dad, nor did he understand how this journal had ended up in the box. These boxes were only used for storing clothes and nothing else.

So how?

Kurashi looks back at the neatly folded paper in the box, replacing it with the journal. After unfolding the map, there was a vague outline of a region drawn with a small dot inside it.

There was some sense of familiarity about it.

He walked over to his desk and opened his laptop, searching for the location. And after a few clicks, Kurashi found what he was looking for.

Hida Mountains...

He took a step back from the desk, letting the newfound information sink in. Slowly, he turned his attention somewhere else.

His schoolbag.

Unloading the bag, he slipped it over his shoulders and walked out the door.

"1:17 a.m." The homescreen of his phone showed.

The rain had diminished to a drizzle as he made his way through the narrow streets, his silhouette blending with the shadows cast by the dim streetlights.

Then—for just a second—he noticed it.

A shadow just behind him.

He looked over his shoulder but saw nothing. Not thinking much of it at the time, he continued.

Upon reaching a convenience store, the bright neon lights reflected off the wet pavement. As Kurashi walked down the aisles, his mind was in a haze.

What was the meaning of the journal?

How did it get in the box?

There were many unanswered questions.

After picking up a few essential goods, he walked to the front to check out. The bell above the door jingled as he stepped back into the rainy night, his face partially shielded by the hood.

With only a journal and a map guiding him, Kurashi was now heading to the Hida Mountains.