Chapter Text
Kasumi
Across the world there are thin places,
Spots where time changes spaces.
Find one and your dreams will come true,
Just listen close to what’s new.
In the United States a girl wonders,
Wishing for a life without slumbers.
The mountains of Japan call to her,
And she is not an amateur.
Mt. Haguro holds the environment,
From hardship comes enlightenment.
The mists will help her travel,
After that it’s her future to tackle.
The Trek and the Mists
Rolling over the hills they fade, hazing the view of the valley. A young woman appears atop a mountain peak, sheer cliffs on one side and a forested slope on the other, as if it had been cut in half by a god’s blade. Thick and densely filled with water droplets, the air clings to her skin. Legs burning after the steep hike to the top, she pauses to admire the fruits of her labor, thinking that this view was definitely worth it.
A cool breeze picks up, chilling the water and sweat on her skin. Shucking off her backpack, she takes her time refueling for the climb down. A protein bar and cold water really hit the spot. She also collected some blackberries on the hike up! “Mmm. Alright, let’s do this.” She mutters to herself. Grabbing a small black climbing harness and some rope from her bag, she gets ready for the descent. Not by trail, but climbing down the steep face..
She excitedly secures the rope to a tree near the edge of the cliff with a slip knot, and threads the other end through her harness loop twice. She ties a large knot at the very end of the rope, and tosses it down the cliff. Not being an experienced climber, she is trying out her own inventions. The idea is that she will be able to climb down the cliff face without any resistance, and catch herself in time with the rope if she slips. Even if she can’t catch herself, the knot at the bottom should stop her, though that would still be a huge fall. Mark, her friend who actually climbs, told her that this is an idiotic idea, it would never work, and rappelling down would be both safer and more fun, but she didn’t listen. In addition, she refused to tell anyone where she was going so they couldn’t stop her.
Holding the rope, she lowers herself over the edge and grabs tight to her first holds. Pebbles skitter off the top, falling in slow motion down into the valley. They’re obscured by the mists after a few seconds. Foot then hand, foot then hand, she lowers herself slowly and carefully, focusing intently. The rock is stable, and she stops testing each hold, trusting it to carry her weight. As she grows more confident, she goes faster and faster, eager to reach the bottom and proclaim her victory over Mark.
About halfway down, she notices that the mists are thickening, so much that she can no longer see her feet. They seem to be grabbing at her, reaching out their wispy tendrils… All of a sudden, the small shelf she was holding breaks off the mountain, and she tumbles into the air. Clambering for purchase, she grabs for the sharp cliff face, succeeding in tearing up her hands only. Remembering her plan, she reaches for the rope, but she is falling too fast and it will not stop. Her last hope is the knot at the end, but as she hits the misty cushion everything goes black.