Tokyo was louder than I remembered.
The moment I stepped off the train, the city's weight returned—its pulse, its crowds, its blur of neon and exhaust. But something inside me had shifted. I could feel it.
A week with Hanabi and Aoi-chan had changed everything.
Hanabi was healing. Still fragile, still shaken, but whole. Granny had spent days cleansing her soul, weaving protective charms into her spirit like invisible thread. And me—I wasn't the same girl who had fled the subway in fear.
Now, I could feel things I used to ignore. Whispers in the wind. Shadows that moved where light should have stood still. People who looked normal until I looked closer.
The spiritual world didn't hide from me anymore.
"Back to this mess," I muttered as I exited the station and adjusted my backpack. The sky above Tokyo was slate-gray, hinting at rain, and the street was filled with umbrellas bobbing like a restless sea.
I had one destination before going back to the dorm.
The shop.
His shop.
The little store tucked between a closed-down DVD rental and an internet cafe. The one that hadn't been on the map.
The moment I pushed the sliding door open, the smell of old incense and citrus filled my nose.
"You're late," said the man behind the counter without looking up. His long silver hair was tied back neatly, and his sleeves were rolled up as he dusted shelves covered in unfamiliar relics. "I was expecting you three days ago."
"I stayed longer in Hiraizumi. My sister needed more time."
"You needed more time." His eyes finally met mine, and they were clouded, as if seeing through me. "The way your soul shimmered that day—child, you've stepped further than most ever do."
I walked slowly toward the counter, trying to find my footing. "What is this place, really?"
He smiled, as if amused by the question. "A place between worlds. Much like you."
"Granny said I had the gift. She said I can move between worlds. What does that mean?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he lit a match and dropped it into a small copper bowl filled with herbs. Smoke rose in slow spirals.
"It means doors will open for you, whether you want them to or not. Spirits will recognize you. Some will seek your help." He paused. "Others will want to silence you."
I felt a chill slip down my spine.
"I don't want this," I admitted. "I didn't ask for it."
"No one ever does." He folded his hands and leaned forward. "But it found you for a reason."
We stood there in silence for a moment, the only sound being the faint crackle of the incense.
Finally, I asked, "What should I do now?"
"Go back to your life. Live it. Go to class. Study. Laugh. Make friends." He handed me a folded paper charm sealed with red ink. "And when the veil between worlds starts to shimmer again—because it will—remember what you've already survived."
I took the charm with both hands, bowed slightly, and left the shop.
Back outside, the city buzzed around me—but it felt farther away somehow. I walked the familiar route back to the dorm, passing the bookstore, the small café where I sometimes worked, and the corner vending machine with the broken lemon soda button.
Everything was the same.
But I wasn't.
When I reached my dorm room and unlocked the door, the air inside felt colder than it should have.
I stepped in slowly.
And there, standing by the window, was the transfer student.
The girl I had seen only once before.
She turned around.
And smiled.
"Hello, Hikari-chan," she said, her voice like silk brushing over thorns. "I've been waiting for you."