The wind had died down, plunging the village into an almost eerie silence. From the top of the hill, Yahiko and Mata gazed at the forest below. The dark treeline seemed distant, almost unreal, as a rising mist crept through the valley.


    Yahiko didn''t like this.


    A vague feeling, a dull unease, a tension he didn''t fully understand weighed on his shoulders. As if something in the air had changed.


    He exchanged a glance with Mata, then, without a word, they began their descent.


    Their steps were quick but measured as they crossed the village, walking past the houses in silence.


    They passed by old Gribou''s house, an elderly yet hardworking man. He was the one who had taught Yahiko the basics of fishing in frozen lakes, passing down his knowledge with kindness. He raised three goats, caring for them meticulously, and whenever he had extra milk, he often shared it with Yahiko''s mother. A good man—generous and respected by all.


    When they saw him, Yahiko and Mata only gave him a brief greeting.They merely muttered a quick, "Good evening, sir," as they walked by.


    — "Where are you heading at this hour? Night is falling!" the old man called out, intrigued.— "We need to check something, we''ll be back in just a few minutes," Yahiko answered without slowing down.


    They continued on, passing the last houses of the village. With only about a hundred inhabitants, the village was made up of small wooden and stone homes, nestled close together to withstand the harsh winter. For a brief moment, the unease faded, as if losing sight of the horizon and the clearing had lifted the oppressive sensation. But the instant they stepped beyond the village''s borders and Yahiko raised his eyes toward the dark treeline once more, the feeling returned—stronger, heavier.


    This time, there was no doubt.


    Something was wrong.


    Each step on the pristine snow seemed to muffle the sounds around them, as if the world itself was holding its breath.


    Beside him, Mata felt it too. He wasn''t speaking anymore, his eyes scanning the surroundings cautiously. More tense than usual, he looked like he was fighting an instinct that urged him to turn back.


    Then, they saw it.


    A footprint.


    They stopped simultaneously.


    It was of moderate size but oddly shaped. Too big for a fox, too narrow for a deer. Its edges were sharp, as if something heavy had passed through recently.


    Yahiko swallowed slowly.


    This wasn''t normal.


    But they kept moving forward. Slowly, as if their very lives depended on it.


    With each step toward the forest, the tension became nearly unbearable.


    They passed a second footprint.


    Then a third.


    With every step, the tension rose, their stress intensifying.


    The forest was now dangerously close. Yahiko lifted his gaze toward the dark mass of trees.


    There was something there.


    A crushing weight pressed against his back. A feeling of being watched. Hunted.


    It was there. Hiding.


    Within the frozen darkness between the snow-covered trunks, something was watching them.


    Short of breath, Yahiko knelt down, staying alert, his gaze locked straight ahead. With his fingertips, he traced the contours of a deeper print in the snow. The edges were too sharp, slightly arched—but arched in an unnatural way. He swallowed hard. The fresh powder hadn''t yet covered the mark.


    Whatever had made this print had passed by recently.


    Perhaps only minutes ago.


    — "What the hell…" Mata muttered, his voice rougher than usual, almost stifled by the tension.


    He crouched beside Yahiko, his face tightening as he studied the print.


    Yahiko opened his mouth… but no sound came out.


    A freezing breath brushed against the back of his neck.


    He snapped his head up.


    In the shadows of the forest, something was staring at them.


    He couldn''t see its shape—only a presence. A primal instinct screamed within him.


    The darkness between the trunks seemed denser, deeper. As if it swallowed the light.


    Mata felt Yahiko''s unease and tensed up as well.


    — "You feel it too?" Yahiko whispered.Mata slowly nodded, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his wooden sword strapped to his waist. A slight tremor ran through his arm.


    It wasn''t fear.


    Just a tension he had rarely experienced.


    For a moment, they felt like everything was on the verge of shifting.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    If that thing moved...If they took one step too far…Something would happen.


    This was the limit.


    Their limit.


    The invisible boundary between life and death.


    Their hearts pounded in unison, a rapid, deafening rhythm in the unnatural silence.


    Then, they made their decision.


    Despite their youth, their recklessness, and their courage… they weren''t fools.


    They turned back.


    But without ever turning their backs on the forest.


    Not even for a second.


    They stepped back cautiously, every movement precise, controlled.


    One step at a time.


    Slowly.


    Once they had put enough distance between them and the treeline, they finally allowed themselves to pick up the pace toward the village.


    They were exhausted.


    Drained of all energy.


    Every muscle, every fiber of their bodies had been stretched to its limits.


    They were sweating profusely, despite the biting cold of the day.


    The invisible weight that had pressed upon them… it might still be there, lurking in the shadows.


    They had been right to retreat.


    But one thought lingered in Yahiko''s mind, repeating over and over as they reached the first houses of the village:


    If that thing was watching them… what was it waiting for?


    He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Yet, a dull unease clung to him. Something in the freezing night whispered to him… that this was only the beginning.


    As soon as they entered the village streets, doors creaked open.


    Figures emerged slowly, drawn by their hurried return. Among them were the elders, their gazes evasive, and younger men whose expressions hardened upon seeing the two boys.


    Breathless, Yahiko and Mata recounted in detail what they had seen and felt.


    The footprints.The oppressive atmosphere.That unsettling sensation of being watched.


    A heavy silence followed their words.


    Too heavy.


    The elders exchanged looks full of unspoken meaning.


    — "Wouldn''t it just be tracks from some wild animal?" one of them suggested firmly, his tone dismissive.


    — "A migrating animal from a far-off region? Ha! That reminds me… Last week, I saw birds flying overhead, massive as deer. I had never seen such a species before. You boys are just imagining things. Relax," another added, his tone casual, almost mocking, as if to end the conversation.


    The younger men exchanged glances, visibly unconvinced.


    — "Yeah… but still, a footprint like that isn''t something you see every day," muttered one man, arms crossed.


    — "Exactly… That''s not the kind of animal we usually find around here," added a woman, her voice uncertain.


    But none of them openly contradicted the elders.


    One of the old men reached out, placing a firm hand on Mata''s shoulder, a conciliatory smile on his lips.


    — "You''ve probably caught a fever from training so much in this cold."


    Before he could protest, a middle-aged woman folded her arms and spoke with finality:


    — "Enough now. Go home. It''s getting late."


    Her tone left no room for argument. The discussion was over.


    Yahiko and Mata remained still.


    They were speechless.


    A tense, uncomfortable silence settled over them, heavier than the winter air.


    The two friends exchanged one last glance, then turned on their heels.


    Their footsteps struck hard against the frozen ground as they walked away, jaws clenched, swallowing their frustration.


    — "This is complete nonsense," Mata finally blurted out, kicking a frozen pebble. "They really think we''re just a bunch of kids!"


    Yahiko didn''t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed straight ahead, his expression tense.


    He knew what they had felt. He knew they weren''t crazy.


    And yet, the elders had brushed off their testimony as if it were nothing more than a child''s overactive imagination.


    — "We should have insisted," he muttered, his fists tightening.


    — "What for? They would have just come up with another stupid excuse," Mata grumbled.


    He gritted his teeth, holding back his irritation. But no matter how much he tried to push it down, he couldn''t shake off the feeling of being completely ignored.


    They had seen those footprints.


    They had felt that presence.


    And yet, no one had taken them seriously.


    Then, suddenly, a complete shift.


    Mata stopped dead in his tracks, sniffing the air with an almost animalistic focus.


    — "Wait… is that…?"


    A scent drifted from Yahiko''s house, carried by the cold night breeze.


    A thick, comforting aroma that instantly melted the tension from his shoulders.


    His eyes widened. His gaze sparkled like a child''s at the sight of a feast.


    A bit of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth.


    — "Oh damn, Yahiko… tell me that''s what I think it is!"


    Yahiko, who had also picked up on the mouth-watering scent, smirked.


    — "Smells like grilled fish, doesn''t it?"


    Mata was already gone.


    A blissful grin split his face as he picked up his pace, his hunger completely overpowering his anger.


    He licked his lips, utterly consumed by the thought of the meal awaiting him.


    — "That''s it, I give up. We''ll talk later!" he declared, his energy suddenly restored.


    The mere thought of a warm evening, a hearty meal, a hot wash, and a soft bed wiped away all of his frustration.


    Without hesitation, they pushed open the door and stepped into Yahiko''s home, leaving behind the freezing night and the ominous shadow of the forest.


    Inside, a warm glow bathed the room, cast by the fire crackling gently in the hearth.


    The smoky scent of fire-grilled fish still lingered in the air, its rich aroma blending with the fragrance of dried herbs that sizzled over the flames.


    The golden flesh of the fish was slowly kissed by the fire, while winter vegetables roasted alongside it, absorbing the spices and the essence of the embers.


    After the freezing atmosphere outside, the warmth of the home felt almost unreal.


    Yahiko and Mata sat at the table, where Haruka, Yahiko''s mother, was already serving the food.


    His little sister, Fumi, greeted them with a mischievous grin.


    — "So, Mata, did you lose to my brother again?" she teased.


    Mata rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his fish.


    — "Tsk. As if!"


    — "You say that every time," Fumi snickered, sticking out her tongue.


    The mood was light, as if the tensions from earlier had evaporated with the warmth of the meal.


    Despite the frustration lingering in him, Mata let himself sink into the comfort of the moment.


    Over time, this house had become more than just a place he visited.


    It was a refuge.


    Haruka had always treated him like a son.


    He even had a second sleeping mat in Yahiko''s room, proof that he was far more than just a guest here.


    Haruka gently placed a hand on his shoulder, a warm smile on her lips.


    — "Eat while it''s hot. You must be exhausted from all that training."


    Mata nodded, suddenly quiet.


    He didn''t say it out loud, but he deeply appreciated these small gestures, these quiet acts of care.


    They meant more to him than any words ever could.


    After the meal, the two boys washed up before collapsing onto their bedding.


    Exhaustion claimed them instantly.


    The next morning, Yahiko and Mata woke up feeling well-rested.


    The moment their bodies had hit the mats, the warmth of the home had melted away the tension from the previous night.


    Around the table, the scent of fresh bread and a warm herbal drink drifted through the air.


    Fumi was already seated, picking at her food while shooting annoyed glances at the two boys, who were still half-asleep.


    — "You two snored all night," she grumbled.


    Mata stretched with a groan before grabbing his bowl with newfound enthusiasm.


    — "No way. Yahiko, maybe, but me? Never."


    Yahiko simply raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his tea without bothering to reply.


    Haruka approached the table, her gaze soft.


    — "Boys, could you go fetch a block of ice after breakfast? We just ran out, and we''ll need it for drinking water."


    Yahiko nodded immediately. It was a routine task in winter—tedious, but not difficult.


    — "We''ll go after we eat," he confirmed.


    They finished their breakfast, dressed warmly, and finally stepped outside, ready to set off.


    But the moment they crossed the threshold, they noticed something unusual.


    A small crowd had gathered near the old man Gribou''s house.


    A dozen people were standing together, whispering among themselves.


    Some looked worried. Others seemed puzzled.


    Intrigued, Yahiko and Mata exchanged glances before approaching.


    — "What''s going on?" Yahiko asked.


    A man with his arms crossed let out a heavy sigh before answering in a grim tone:


    — "One of old Gribou''s goats vanished last night."


    The two boys froze.