?The first light of 2026 didn't arrive with a fanfare; it crept across my floorboards in a slow, pale amber crawl. I winced as the glare hit my face, my eyes stinging with the leftover grit of last night’s tears and woodsmoke.

  ?After a quick trip to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and scrub the sleep from my teeth, I headed to the kitchen. The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the refrigerator. As I set the kettle on the stove and began whisking eggs for an omelet, a small, sleepy weight pressed into my lower back.

  ?"Oni-chan..." a muffled voice groaned into my shirt. "Mei is too tired. Carry me?"

  ?I looked down to see Mei, her hair a chaotic nest of tangles, looking up at me with drooping eyelids. I couldn't help but smile. "The Great Commander is requesting transport already?"

  ?I leaned down, and she scrambled onto my back, her small arms looping around my neck. I carried her through our morning routine like a human taxi—first to the bathroom to help her reach the sink, then back to the table where Grandma was already waiting.

  ?"Your tea, Grandma," I said, setting the herbal brew down before sliding a plate in front of Mei.

  ?"Ketchup!" Mei demanded, her energy returning at the sight of food. "I want a face!"

  ?I carefully traced a smiling face in red sauce across the yellow eggs. Mei beamed, matching the expression perfectly.

  ?"How was the festival, Yoshito?" Grandma asked, her eyes twinkling over the steam of her mug.

  ?"It was good, Grandma," I replied, but Mei didn't let me finish. She jumped up, nearly knocking over her orange juice, and launched into a high-speed retelling of the fireworks, the plushie cat, and the takoyaki. Watching them laugh, the heaviness of the previous night felt like a distant dream.

  ?"Eat up, you two," I said, checking the clock. "It’s January 1st. We need to get to the shrine for the New Year’s blessing."

  ?By 10:30 AM, the air at the Kyoto shrine was crisp and biting. We stood together before the offering box.

  ?I wish for a happy, safe year for the three of us, I prayed, my eyes squeezed shut. And please... let me get that scholarship. I need to take care of them.

  ?Beside me, Mei whispered her own wish: "I want Oni-chan to feed me yummy things and take us to the amusement park!"

  ?Then, the world broke.

  ?A high-pitched ringing, like a tuning fork struck against my skull, drowned out the chanting of the priests. I opened my eyes and gasped. The bustling crowd had turned into statues. A pigeon was suspended mid-air above the gate; a coin was frozen in the space between a man’s hand and the offering box. Silence—absolute and terrifying—blanketed the shrine.

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  ?“Akira…” A voice, faint as a breeze, seemed to call from the thicket of trees behind the main hall. My legs moved before I could think. I followed the pull until I stumbled upon a miniature shrine, no larger than a birdhouse, tucked away in the shadows. Inside sat a small, weathered wooden box.

  ?I reached out and flipped the lid. Resting on a bed of old silk was a single golden feather.

  ?The moment my fingertip brushed the quill, the world dissolved into a blinding white light. Heat surged through my veins. When I blinked, the colors rushed back. The sound of the crowd slammed into my ears like a physical wave.

  ?"Oni-chan? Are you done wishing yet?" Mei asked, tugging on my coat.

  ?I looked around, heart hammering against my ribs. Grandma was still bowing her head. The pigeon was gone. The box was nowhere to be seen.

  ?Just my imagination, I told myself, rubbing my eyes. I’m just more tired than I thought.

  ?In Nara, the morning was far less peaceful for Suzuki Aiko.

  ?"Aiko... Aiko!"

  ?The voice was a distant fog. I groaned, burying my face in my pillow until my mother’s hand shook my shoulder.

  ?"Wake up, honey! We have to get to the shrine hurry up and get ready."

  ?"But... Dad and Arata aren't even back yet," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

  ?"They'll be home this afternoon," she said, pulling the curtains back. "Your father is under a lot of pressure with this new project—the Ar Console. It’s supposed to be better than any VR on the market. It doesn't just show you a world; it uses neural pulses to make you feel the wind, the heat, the weight of objects. It's the future, Aiko. He needs to secure this deal."

  ?I dragged myself out of bed, the routine of a bath and a breakfast of miso soup and natto passing in a blur. As we walked toward the local shrine, my mind was fixed on one thing: the scholarship for Kyoto High School. It was one of the most elite schools in Japan. Getting in would mean my future was set, and it would bring me closer to the city where my father spent so much of his time.

  ?At the shrine, Mom clapped her hands twice. "I pray for our family's happiness," she whispered, "and that your father's project is a success."

  ?I closed my eyes, focusing all my will on that scholarship. Please. Just let me be good enough.

  ?Suddenly, the world went cold.

  ?The sound of the wind through the ancient cedars stopped. My mother, standing right next to me, didn't even seem to be breathing. She was a still-life painting of a woman in prayer.

  ?“Aiko…”

  ?A shimmer caught my eye near the base of an old stone lantern. A small, wooden box sat there, looking out of place amongst the moss. Driven by a curiosity that felt like a physical tug, I opened it.

  ?Inside lay a silver feather, glowing with a soft, moonlight-colored radiance.

  ?As I touched it, the world didn't just fade—it vanished. For a split second, I felt like I was floating in a void of pure silver. Then, with a jarring snap, I was back. My mother was finishing her prayer, the wind was whistling again, and the sun was shining.

  ?I stood there, trembling slightly, checking my palms. Nothing.

  ?"Let's go home, Aiko," Mom said, oblivious.

  ?"Yeah," I whispered, looking back at the empty spot by the lantern. "Coming."

  ?I convinced myself it was a hallucination—a trick of the light or a dip in blood sugar. I didn't know then that across the mountains in Kyoto, a boy with a golden feather was thinking the exact same thing. And I certainly didn't know that something big was going to happen.