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She hadn’t seen the sun in days.
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Leaves crunched beneath her torn slippers as her feet dragged across the damp, root-knotted forest floor. Her name was Yuki, but even that was starting to feel like someone else’s. Her mind was foggy from exhaustion. Days had blurred into nights, and nights into nightmares. She had been lost in this forest for what felt like an eternity. Her throat burned from thirst. Her stomach was hollow, gnawed raw from hunger.
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She paused beneath a dying cedar, clutching her chest. Her heartbeat was pounding like a drum of war. The cold sliced through her kimono like a blade. Somewhere behind her, an animal screamed — a shrill, distant cry swallowed almost instantly by the trees.
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She looked around. Darkness had begun to settle again.
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“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “I came this way already... didn’t I?”
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She spun around, dizzy. Trees looked the same in every direction. The fog swirled thick and low, clinging to her knees. There was no path. There was no sound — only her breath and the thrum of her pulse.
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Her vision swam.
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She sank to her knees.
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If she died here, would anyone even find her body?
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She dug her fingernails into the wet soil, trembling.
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“I don’t want to die,” she said to no one. “Please… someone. Help me.”
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And then — just when she was ready to surrender — the forest opened.
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A soft glow shimmered through the mist.
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It wasn’t the sun.
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The fog parted in front of her like a curtain. There, standing beneath the outstretched limbs of a massive camphor tree, was a woman — not human, not entirely.
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She radiated a faint light, like the moon on still water.
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Her kimono shimmered with bioluminescent threads, emerald and indigo dancing across its surface like fireflies. Long black hair cascaded down her back, silky and untouched by the wind. Her skin was smooth, a pale olive green that pulsed gently with light. Her eyes — almond-shaped, deep as forest wells — fixed on Yuki with a calm strength.
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The woman did not speak.
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She simply extended a hand.
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Yuki stared at it, eyes wide with disbelief. Her lips trembled.
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"Wh-who are you?" she rasped.
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Still no answer.
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But something about the woman’s presence quieted Yuki's panic. Her heartbeat slowed. The trees around them seemed to lean closer, listening.
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The woman gestured again.
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Yuki stumbled forward.
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---
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The trees grew denser as they walked — yet it never felt oppressive. Where the mysterious woman stepped, the forest glowed faintly, guiding their path. The moss beneath their feet lit in soft greens and blues. The air smelled like ancient rain and blooming night flowers.
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She led Yuki to a clearing where a small spring gurgled, its waters crystalline and cool. Without words, the woman knelt beside it and cupped water in her hands, offering it.
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Yuki drank.
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It tasted like memory — like the first time she laughed, like her mother’s voice, like the scent of plum blossoms in spring.
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Tears rolled down her cheeks.
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“I thought I was going to die,” Yuki whispered.
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The woman smiled faintly, but said nothing. She pointed toward the sky.
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Yuki followed her gaze.
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Above the treetops, a narrow path had formed — not a road, but a trail of glowing leaves, floating midair, weaving through the darkness like a bridge made of starlight.
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“You… you’re the Guardian, aren’t you?” Yuki said slowly. “The one from the old tales?”
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The woman nodded.
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Yuki had heard stories as a child — of the Spirit of the Wilderness, who appeared only to those lost between death and hope. They said she was a myth. A fantasy told to comfort frightened children.
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But she was real.
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And she had come for her.
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---
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They reached a hill, its summit overlooking an unseen village beyond the trees. Lanterns blinked faintly in the distance. Safety. Home.
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The woman paused. She would go no further.
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Yuki turned to face her.
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"Why did you help me?" she asked.
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The Guardian tilted her head. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was like wind through bamboo: soft but ancient.
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"Because the forest remembers who it once belonged to."
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Yuki didn’t understand. But she felt it — the truth in her bones.
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The woman placed a hand on Yuki’s chest — just above her heart. A pulse of light surged through her, warm and awakening. Her limbs no longer trembled. Her breathing steadied.
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Then the Guardian stepped back into the mist.
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And disappeared.
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---
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⏳ One Year Later
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Yuki stood at the edge of the forest, holding the hand of a lost child she had just found. She had become a guide — a whisperer of forest paths, a rescuer of wanderers.
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They said she always knew where to go.
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But only Yuki knew the truth.
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Because once, when the forest had tried to swallow her whole…
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It whispered her name back.
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