The sky—previously calm—fractures with a violent streak of lightning, tearing through the heavens like a divine judgment.
Nearby, a stray dog and a cat, their ears twitching at the disturbance, turn toward the boy. Their faces twist in pure terror, instincts flaring as they race toward him, muscles straining with desperate speed. But before they can reach him, a force unimaginable freezes them mid-sprint.
The world halts.
Time itself comes to a screeching stop. The trees, caught in a violent wind, hold their twisted, frozen forms. The birds, once soaring through the sky, are suspended in an eerie stillness, wings caught in mid-flight, like statues made of feathers. A single drop of water, falling from the tip of a leaf, hangs motionless..
Then, the world turns white.
The entire landscape, every form, every color, bleaches into an endless, blinding white void. All that remains is the boy,and his fish.
In the endless void, the boy and his fish walk, but go nowhere. Until—
A hand
A hand — a cold, unfamiliar hand — settles on Hanako's shoulder. The touch is light yet oppressive, like frost peeling on bare skin. A voice follows, deep and measured, terrifying yet soothing.
"This world is cruel and unforgiving. It yields nothing but pain, futility, and disdain. You embraced it. You loved it. You lived it. And where did that bring you?"
A pause. The silence stretches, heavy and deliberate.
"To me."
Hanako whirls around. No one is there.
But then — far in the endless white void — a figure in yellow appears. Seated at a table with a tea kettle, the figure is impossibly distant yet suffocatingly close. Hanako feels the pull, an unspoken command. His feet move without thought, and he walks forward.
The voice continues, smooth and relentless:
"What is life but a fragile dream, shared by the desperate, agreed upon by fools? You believe you walk with purpose, that your hands shape the world, but you are nothing more than a leaf caught in a storm — spinning, grasping, helpless against the winds of fate.
Like a tree in autumn, you stand helpless as the world around you withers — watching as all you cherish dries up and flies away like dying leaves in the wind. Bound to the rise and fall, to the endless cycle of joy and sorrow, to a life that gives only to take.
You call it living.
I call it suffocating."
The boy's knees feel weak, his breath shallow. Placing the fishbowl on the table with trembling hands,the water sloshes gently, he then pulls a chair from under the table and sits down.
At last, the entity becomes visible — devilish, with hands covering his eyes and draped in a yellow cloak that billows unnaturally despite the still air. He moves with eerie grace, reaching for the tea kettle. His voice remains calm, almost peaceful:
"Life is like steeping tea leaves — slowly unraveling, releasing its essence into the world, yet destined to fade with time. The longer it lingers, the more bitter it becomes, and no matter how rich its flavor once was, it will eventually be nothing but dregs at the bottom of the cup."
He pours the tea carefully, the amber liquid swirling as it fills the cup. He hands it to the boy.
Hanako stares at the fishbowl, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can you save her?"
The man in yellow tilts his head, a slow, deliberate smile curling his lips. "You know I can. But are you willing to do what must be done?"
The boy, eyes locked on his fish, presses his palm against the glass. The fish weakly bumps against his hand as if sensing him. His voice shakes. "Her life matters the most to me."
The man in yellow gestures with an elegant flick of his wrist. "Look down Hanako."
Before Hanako, two cups appear — one filled with black tea, the other with green.
"Drink the black, and this moment will dissolve like sugar in water. Your companion will slip away, but you will never know sorrow, for I will take the weight of memory as my price. You will walk away unburdened, untouched, as if she had never existed at all.
Drink the green, and she will live — ten years, full and bright, untouched by suffering or sickness. A gift, a mercy. But all gifts require balance, and in return, I will take something of equal worth. Something you will not miss — until it is already gone.
So, tell me, dear child… which taste of fate will you choose?"