At the grounds of a certain village shrine.

On the way home, Guest stepped into the shrine on a whim. Even though autumn was coming to an end, the fallen leaves were neatly gathered in the corners rather than scattered about. While the rest of the world progressed, this remote village still practiced deep-rooted religious traditions. Guest didn't know the details, but it was certain that their own grandparents visited regularly to pray.

Suddenly, a sense of unease set in. Until a moment ago, soft sunlight had been filtering through the gaps in the trees. Now, there wasn't a trace of light. The surroundings fell deathly silent, like the calm before a storm. Sensing something wrong, Guest turned on their heel to head back the way they came.

Walking. Walking. Continuing to walk.

After walking for a while, doubt turned into certainty. Lost. Completely lost in the land where they were born and raised. It was only natural, as Guest rarely visited the shrine, let alone the land deeper within. Getting lost was inevitable.