When spring came the following year Takeshi’s mother took the children and moved back to her parents’ village. They left their fields in the care of their neighbours and gave their house to another family.

Kisuke and Takeshi exchanged few words of farewell. They promised to meet again someday, but even as youngsters they knew their futures were unpredictable. Winter could steal either one of their lives before they could meet again, so all they could do was silently pray that they would live long enough for that day.

Kasumi shyly wished Kisuke well, and warned him to not stray too far from the winter path. Though he was touched by her concern Kisuke assured Kasumi that he would live long enough to see her and her family again. He told her that when they were older he’d come find her again, and they could be good friends again as they were now. These dreams were enough to make Kasumi smile, but it was forced. So much had changed in such a short time, and spring would only bring more.

Then the mother of the four children called them away, and they set off for a village somewhere else in the valley.

As Kisuke watched them go he wondered if he really would see any of them again. He hoped that if not in this life then in their next, or wherever they ended up after death.

Though he seldom spoke of death and dying anymore, it remained Kisuke’s belief that dying did not mean the end. It would be too cruel of the fate if leaving one life meant you could never see your loved ones again.

–––––

Many years later Kisuke had grown into a fine young man. He and Fuyuki were both woodcutters, the old man having trained Kisuke as his father would have had he lived.

They would go to town together to sell their wares, Old Fuyuki showing Kisuke the best places to visit. He said the closest town was a meeting point for many of the villagers, a place where food and warmth could be shared. People came there to test new ingredients in new recipes, to showcase their skills in embroidery and textiles. It was a place for fun and entertainment, filled with street performers and travelling musicians.

Furthermore, it was a place where people’s paths crossed with each other.

Every time Kisuke went to town he looked out for Takeshi and his siblings, hoping that they might reunite after all these years. Unfortunately, Kisuke’s search hadn’t borne any fruit, but he remained hopeful.

Fuyuki encouraged Kisuke as much as possible in his search, but also kept in mind that he and Takeshi might not meet again until they were old. He made sure not to over-encourage Kisuke, nor shut down his hopes entirely.

He’d become a sort of father-figure to the boy over the years, a gruffer, more grizzly version. Fuyuki and his wife had had three daughters who married out, so their home was quite lonely save for Kisuke and his mother when they came to visit.

For a while Kisuke wanted nothing but the simple things, like keeping food on the table and a roof over his head. He wanted to be able to care for his mother and maintain good relations with his neighbours. He wanted nothing in life because he believed he had all that he needed.

And yet, something was missing. Life was a little bit dull for Kisuke. Perhaps it was that spark of energy many children lose when they cross the threshold into adulthood. He still thought about ghosts from time to time, but they were overshadowed by Kisuke’s daily routine.

He didn’t make much time to think about what might be missing. Life for him was all work.

Time only ever slowed in winter, the season that reminded Kisuke of his father. It reminded him of Takeshi and his family. It reminded Kisuke that sometimes time stops when things happen, but not a heartbeat later time continues moving again.

The following winter Kisuke’s mother tried to set him up with another village girl–a childhood friend of his. She’d noticed a dissatisfaction with her son and thought a wife might help relieve him of his discontent. Surely that was what he was missing–companionship.

But Kisuke wasn’t interested. He went with Fuyuki as usual, into the woods dressed in warm straw coats and boots. The sky was overcast with no signs of clearing, but there was enough daylight for them to work and return home safely.

They gathered some wood and strapped it to their back. Old Fuyuki then suggested going deeper into the wood to find some of the more ancient trees.

The old trees would burn nicely, and it would last them well into the depths of winter. Kisuke agreed, though they had to be careful to avoid chopping a tree with a rope tied around it.

Those trees were marked, the rope indicating that it housed a spirit called kodama. Many kodama were considered kami, powerful spirits who can help or hinder you depending on their mood and how you treat them.

Kodama in particular could be rather vengeful if you cut down their tree, and the two men certainly didn’t want any spirits incurring their wrath on their village.

As they went deeper into the woods to search for a good tree it began to snow. Kisuke worried that they would get lost, but Old Fuyuki was certain he would remember the way back, for he had been breaking branches on small bushes as they went to remember their trails.

But it seemed that the old man forgot that snow covers everything during a blizzard. And a blizzard did come, coating everything in a thick white blanket. Wind howled through the trees and the sky grew dark.

Fuyuki finally realized it was well past time to go home, so he and Kisuke hurried back the way they came.

But which way had they come?

Their tracks had been covered in the storm, and there was no sign of the trail Old Fuyuki had made. The two men found themselves lost in the winter woods without any signs of where they had come from.

But they did not panic, for Old Fuyuki was with them, and he had found himself lost many times before on winter nights. He happened to know that this mountain was littered with little huts built by woodcutters for this very reason.

That is, men who came before them had built shelters to spend the night if they got lost.

With great luck they found a little hut nestled between two ancient trees. Its roof was leaking and the walls were filled with holes, but for the most part it was a decent shelter from the wind and snow.

Kisuke followed his mentor into the hut, and the two set their packs of firewood down. It was too cold to start a fire, and their firewood was too frozen to thaw, so Kisuke wrapped his straw coat around him to keep warm.

Huddled inches away from Fuyuki, Kisuke saw the old man’s eyes were apologetic. But it was fine. Kisuke nodded to his former mentor and they both went to sleep.

Things would be better in the morning.