Chapter 1: “The Garden of Unraveling Time”
I had always felt out of place, but it wasn’t until I stepped into the moonlit garden that the centuries unraveled before my eyes.
The garden lay tucked behind my family’s old estate, forgotten by most and rarely visited. On nights when the weight of the world felt unbearable, I would wander there, seeking comfort among the soft petals of the wisteria and the gentle rustling of bamboo in the breeze. Tonight was one of those nights.
I closed the gate behind me, grateful to leave behind the loud arguments with Yumi, my best friend. She meant well, but lately, everything felt so wrong—like I didn’t belong anywhere, like I was living in a story I had no control over. The guilt I carried, the mistakes I couldn’t undo, gnawed at me.
As I walked deeper into the garden, a soft light caught my eye, drawing me toward the center. In the middle of a clearing stood an ancient stone, a relic my grandmother had once told stories about. It was smooth and round, with strange carvings etched into its surface. I had always dismissed the legends, chalking them up to the kind of folklore that old women liked to pass down, but tonight, something felt different. The air was thick with a sense of something… waiting.
I crouched down, running my fingers over the stone’s cool surface. I could feel the pulse of the earth beneath me, as though the ground itself was alive. A sudden chill ran through me, and I quickly stood up, ready to leave the garden and my troubled thoughts behind. But just as I turned, a brilliant flash of light blinded me. I stumbled backward, my heart racing, and then— darkness.
When I opened my eyes, the world was different.
The soft rustle of the garden remained, but it was no longer mine. The air was heavier, filled with the scent of incense and burning wood. The soft hum of voices floated toward me from a nearby road—voices that spoke in the same language I knew, but their tone and cadence were… different. More formal, more refined.
I blinked, trying to steady my breath. I was no longer in my family’s garden. At least, not the garden I knew. The trees, the stone, even the moon itself seemed to belong to a different world, a different time. Slowly, I turned around, searching for something familiar, but what I saw instead made my heart skip a beat.
A man stood a few paces away, his hand resting casually on the hilt of a katana at his side. He was tall and lean, his presence commanding even in the stillness of the night. His dark hair was tied back, and his robes were those of a samurai—sharp lines and muted colors, with the faint glint of armor beneath. He looked at me with a mixture of confusion and suspicion, and I froze, unsure of what to say or do.
“Who are you?” His voice was deep, steady, yet guarded.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. How could I explain that I had been in the same garden only moments ago, but it wasn’t this garden? How could I tell him that I didn’t even know where—or when—I was?
“I… I’m lost,” I finally managed to say, my voice trembling.
His gaze softened, though the suspicion didn’t fully leave his eyes. He stepped closer, studying me carefully. I could feel my pulse quicken under his scrutiny, the weight of his presence almost overwhelming. There was something about him—something magnetic that drew me in, even though I barely knew him.
“You’re not from here,” he said quietly, more to himself than to me. I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.”
He glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was nearby. “This is no place for a woman alone, especially at this hour. Come with me.”
His words were more of a command than an invitation, but I didn’t argue. What choice did I have? He turned, leading me through the garden and onto a narrow path that wound through the trees. I followed, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. Was this a dream? Had I somehow traveled back in time? Everything felt too real— the cool night air on my skin, the sound of his footsteps ahead of me, the distant flicker of lanterns from a nearby village.
After a short walk, we arrived at a small, hidden shrine nestled between the trees. The samurai stopped in front of the entrance, gesturing for me to follow. “You’ll be safe here for now. No one will bother you.”
I hesitated, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as I stepped into the shrine. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the space, casting long shadows across the floor. The air was thick with incense, and the faint scent of cherry blossoms lingered in the air. It was quiet, peaceful even, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
The samurai stood by the doorway, watching me with an unreadable expression. I met his gaze, and for a moment, we were both silent, the weight of unspoken questions hanging between us. Then, slowly, he stepped forward.
“You’re different,” he said softly, his eyes searching mine. “There’s something about you… something I can’t place.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the air between us. His words were gentle, but there was a gravity to them that made my heart race. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt drawn to him in a way that made no sense. He was a stranger, and yet… it was as if I had known him forever.
“I don’t belong here,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “I don’t know how I got here, or how to get back.”
He stepped closer, his presence warm and solid. “Then perhaps it’s fate that brought you here.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I looked up at him, my breath catching in my throat as our eyes met. There was something in his gaze—a quiet intensity, a pull that made it impossible to look away. I felt my heart flutter, my pulse quickening as he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine.
For a moment, everything else faded away. The confusion, the fear, the questions—they all melted into the background as I stood there, my hand in his, the world shrinking down to just the two of us. His touch was gentle, yet there was a strength to it, a steady reassurance that made me feel… safe.
“I don’t even know your name,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Takeshi,” he replied, his voice soft yet firm. “And yours?”
“Amaya.”
He nodded, his fingers lingering against mine for just a moment longer before he stepped back. “Amaya,” he repeated, as if testing the sound of my name on his lips. “I will help you, Amaya. But first, you need to stay hidden. There are those who would take advantage of someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Someone… out of place,” he said, his eyes darkening. “The world is not as it seems, and neither are the people in it.”
Before I could ask him what he meant, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the shrine. Takeshi’s expression changed in an instant, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “Stay here,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent. “No matter what happens, do not come out.”
And with that, he was gone, slipping into the shadows as the footsteps drew closer. My heart raced as I crouched behind the shrine’s wooden beams, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. I could hear muffled voices outside—angry, tense—and the unmistakable sound of steel being drawn from its sheath.
The garden had unraveled time itself, but I had no idea what it had in store for me next.
The muffled sound of swords clashing filled the air, and I held my breath, waiting for Takeshi to return—but then, everything went silent.