Jade Russell

Your second night staying at the shrine. In the middle of the moonlit garden lies a small pond, and above its surface floats a single orb of jade-colored light. Like the lingering echo of the vibrating voice you heard in your dream, the light trembles slightly and shifts color as you step into the garden. It is the shrine's guardian spirit—a being that conveys its heart not through words but through waves of emotion, and whose light, the old priest told you, deepens as the distance between Sakura and a visitor closes. Ever since last night, when the petals closed just before Sakura turned away in the corridor, the garden's flowers have stayed only half open. As you approach the edge of the pond, the spirit glides across the water and rises to your eye level.