THE WHORL WITHIN THE CLOUD

⚠️ CHAPTER PREVIEW:

The curse takes its first victim... and the group will never be the same again.

January 30th, 2017. Tokyo. Shiyi's Home, Bunkyo District. Evening. 4:05 PM.

The pounding rain lashed against their backs as they ran. The sharp cracks of thunder seemed to follow them, making their hearts leap. They burst through the door of Shiyi's house, gasping, soaked to the bone, and trembling. The sudden warmth of the entryway felt strange, almost wrong, after the icy terror outside. Shiyi's younger brother, Kenji, a small boy with wide, curious eyes, peered around the living room door. He saw the six soaked, mud-splattered teenagers, looking more like drowned rats than his sister's friends. His eyes widened, first in surprise, then worry.

"Shiyi-neechan?" he mumbled, his voice small.

Shiyi barely saw him. She leaned against the door, panting. Her chest went up and down fast. The other friends stood dripping water onto the wooden floor. The smell of wet wool and cold rain filled the air. Tamiko was still trembling. She was buried against Shido's side, her face pale and wet with tears. Shido held her tightly. His own eyes were wide with shock. Ryuichi pushed his glasses up his nose with a shaky hand. His face was pale and his usual calm was gone. Hori hugged herself, shaking uncontrollably. Kento just stood there, dripping wet. His eyes stared at nothing. He could still hear the CRACK of the lightning and the tree splitting. 'It's real. Oh, God, it's real.'

"Go get some towels, Kenji," Shiyi managed to say. Her voice was tight and rough. Kenji, feeling their deep fear, quickly ran off.

A heavy silence filled the space. Only their rough breathing and the sound of rain outside broke it. They had escaped the storm, but the storm inside them was still raging. The picture of the lightning hitting the old tree, splitting it in two right in front of them, was burned into their minds. It was no longer a joke. It was no longer just a story. It was no longer Kento's 'idea.' It was real. The curse was real.

Shiyi, still breathing hard, wrapped her arms around herself. "We need to get out of these wet clothes," she whispered. Her voice was barely heard. "Kenji will bring blankets. We can sit in the living room." She moved like a robot, numb and far away.

Kenji soon came back with many soft, fluffy towels. He gave them around quietly. His small face was still worried. They dried their faces and hair, trying to get warm. Hori was still shaking violently. Her teeth chattered. "I... I can't believe... that happened," she whispered. Her voice was thin. "It really happened."

No one replied, but their eyes, meeting for a moment, showed they all knew it was true. The shared terror was a heavy blanket in the room.

They moved to the living room. They sat around a low table. Kenji brought them warm mugs of tea. It was a simple comfort that felt like a lifesaver. The tea warmed their cold hands, but it could not touch the icy fear in their hearts. The rain outside kept falling, a constant reminder of the trouble.

Suddenly, Tamiko, who had been quiet, moved a little away from Shido. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. But it cut through the tense quiet. "My uncle and aunt… they came to the funeral today."

Everyone looked at her. Her voice was so fragile. So different from her usual bright way of speaking. Shido looked down at her. He had a frown on his face. "What are you talking about, Tamiko? You said it was just you and your grandmother. You told us you had no one else." He remembered her desperate words in the basement, her fear for her sick grandmother.

Tamiko's eyes filled with tears again. Her voice shook. "It… it was just me and my grandmother in Japan," she explained. Her voice was barely a whisper. "But... I have relatives overseas. My grandmother's brother, my great-uncle, and his family. They live in America. They said… they said they would take care of me now."

A shocked silence filled the room. Everyone stared at Tamiko. Their faces showed confusion and disbelief. The idea of her having family, especially far away, was a sudden, surprising piece of news.

Shido felt a sudden rush of anger, mixed with a deeper, sick fear. He leaned closer to Tamiko. His eyes stared into hers. "What are you talking about, Tamiko?!" he asked. His voice was low and tight with emotion. "What do you mean, 'take care of you'? What does that mean for us?" 'She can't leave. Not now. Not when everything is falling apart.'

Tamiko started to cry softly. Tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm going to Chicago," she whispered. Her voice broke. "To live with my uncle and aunt." She looked up at them. Her eyes were full of sadness. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm leaving you all. But… I have no choice." Her words were barely heard. Sobs stopped her voice.

The news hit the group like another lightning bolt. The room filled with a new kind of sadness. It was a quiet, aching pain. Hori's eyes filled with fresh tears, just like Tamiko's. Ryuichi looked away. His jaw was tight. Shiyi, even through her own fear and anger, felt a pang of sadness for Tamiko. She saw her small body shaking with a burden too heavy for her. Kento just stared. He could not understand this new loss.

Tears ran down Hori's face. "Tamiko," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "You can't leave us!"

Tamiko shook her head. Tears made it hard to see. "I have to," she said. Her voice was thin and small. "They came all this way. They're my only family left."

Then Tamiko looked at all of them. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I'll be leaving… in two days."

Shido, his face pale and his eyes wide with a desperate plea, reached out and grabbed her hand. His voice was raw, breaking. "You can't leave, Tamiko! You can't leave me! I... I love you!" The words burst out of him. They were not planned, but truly felt. A desperate confession thrown against the wall of their shared despair.

Tamiko's eyes widened, then filled with even more tears. She held his hand tightly. Her small fingers wrapped around his. "I'll never stop loving you, Shido," she said, her voice filled with heartbreak. "But I… I have no choice."

A deep, shattering silence fell over them. It was thicker than the rain outside. The shared sadness of Tamiko's leaving wrapped around them, cold and suffocating. The thought that their group, already broken by fear, was now literally being torn apart, settled deep in their bones.

February 1st, 2017. Tokyo. Narita International Airport, Chiba Prefecture. Morning. 9:00 AM.

Two days later, a cold, grey morning hung over Narita International Airport. The air felt heavy, matching the mood of the six friends. They stood on the viewing deck, a large glass window separating them from the runways. Below, planes moved like silent giants. It was a place of departures, of new beginnings, but for them, it felt like the end.

Tamiko stood with her uncle and aunt. Her small suitcase was by her feet. She wore a warm coat, looking even smaller than usual. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She turned to her friends, forcing a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I… I have to go now," she said, her voice soft and shaky.

Shido stepped forward. His face was pale. He pulled Tamiko into a tight hug. "Please be safe," he whispered into her hair. His voice was thick with unspoken goodbyes and fears. Tamiko held onto him tightly, as if she never wanted to let go.

One by one, the others came to say goodbye. Hori hugged her, crying softly. Shiyi gave her a stiff, quick hug, her face unreadable but her eyes full of sadness. Ryuichi nodded, a silent farewell. Even Kento managed a quick, painful nod, his guilt a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Tamiko pulled away from Shido, her eyes filled with tears, but she knew she had to go. She took her uncle's hand and then her aunt's. She looked back at her friends one last time.

But Then, she walked to Shido one more time. She stood on her tiptoes and gently kissed his lips. It was a soft, quick kiss, full of unspoken love and sorrow. She pulled back and gave him a faint, sad smile, a final gesture of goodbye.

Her small figure then started to walk away, disappearing into the crowd towards the security gate. She turned her head once more, giving them a last, sad wave. They waved back, their hands feeling empty in the vast airport space.

The friends watched the large monitor above. They found Tamiko's flight number: Flight 456, to Chicago. They waited. Time seemed to drag. Finally, the screen showed: 'Boarding Complete.'

They watched as the huge plane slowly moved away from the gate. It was a white metal bird, a symbol of freedom and escape for Tamiko. It taxied slowly, then turned onto the runway. The engines roared, a deep, powerful sound that made the viewing deck glass vibrate. The plane picked up speed, rushing down the runway, faster and faster.

It lifted off the ground, climbing slowly into the grey sky. For a moment, a tiny flicker of hope sparked in the friends. Maybe she would be safe. Maybe the curse couldn't reach her across an ocean.

The plane was not far from the airport yet. It was still climbing, looking smaller against the clouds. Then, it happened.

A strange, grinding noise tore through the air. It was loud and wrong, like metal being twisted. A thick plume of black smoke suddenly poured from one of the engines. The plane tilted sideways, jerking violently.

The roar of the engines changed, sputtering, then fading. A moment of chilling silence.

Then, a sudden, blinding flash of orange fire erupted from the plane's wing.

And then, with a deafening BOOM, the plane exploded in mid-air.

It ripped apart. Pieces of burning metal and black smoke rained down. The ground below them shook. A wave of heat hit the viewing deck glass, even from a distance. The wreckage fell from the sky, a horrifying storm of fire and debris. It crashed into an open field not far from the airport, sending a second, massive explosion that shook the entire building. A huge fireball blossomed on the horizon, followed by a dark cloud of smoke that rose quickly into the already grey sky.

The world went silent for the friends. All they could hear was a high-pitched ringing in their ears.

They stood frozen, their faces pressed against the glass, their eyes wide with unbelievable horror. They had just seen it. Tamiko. Her uncle and aunt. And all the other passengers. Gone. Just like that.

Shido let out a broken, guttural scream, a sound of pure agony. He stumbled backward, falling to his knees, his hands tearing at his hair. "NO! TAMI-KOOOOOO!" His voice ripped through the air, raw and full of pain.

Hori gasped, clutching her mouth, her body shaking so hard she could barely stand. Tears streamed down her face, but these were different, tears of shock and raw terror. "No... no, it can't be..."

Shiyi stood stiff, her eyes fixed on the rising black smoke. Her face was pale, devoid of all color, her anger now replaced by absolute, chilling fear. Her lips trembled as a single, horrifying thought echoed in her mind: 'The curse. It followed her. There's no escape.'

Ryuichi leaned heavily against the glass, his forehead pressed against the cold surface. He was shaking, not from cold, but from a terror so deep it stole his breath. His mind, usually so logical, screamed in silent horror. 'Impossible. This is impossible.'

Kento stood motionless, like a statue. His eyes were wide, vacant, staring at the distant, rising smoke. The reality of what he had just seen crushed him. His legs gave out, and he slowly slid down the glass, collapsing into a heap on the floor. His voice was a choked whisper, barely audible. "My fault... my fault..."

Around them, the airport viewing deck erupted into chaos. Screams, shouts, the blare of sirens, people running, crying, pointing. But for the five remaining friends, the world had shrunk to the horrifying image of the burning plane, a direct and brutal answer to the spirit's promise. The curse had taken its first true victim. And they had watched it happen.

The days after the plane crash blurred into a heavy, dark cloud for the remaining five friends. The news channels spoke of a terrible accident, a sudden mechanical failure, but the friends knew the chilling truth. They had seen the curse strike again, brutally, undeniably, and they were the only ones who knew why. This secret, this unspeakable terror, was a heavier burden than the public grief.

Shiyi fell into a deep, silent despair. The vibrant, fiery girl who had screamed at Kento was gone. She barely spoke. She spent her days in her room, the curtains drawn, the silence only broken by her brother Kenji's worried questions. She ate little, slept less, haunted by the image of the exploding plane, and the thought that she had dragged Kenji into this cursed life. Kenji, young and confused, watched his sister with wide, sad eyes. He didn't understand the darkness that had taken hold of her. He only knew his sister was hurting. One afternoon, finding Shiyi curled up and unresponsive, Kenji, tears in his eyes, quietly went to the phone. He called Hori first, then Kento.

"Please," he whispered into the phone, his voice shaking. "Shiyi-neechan isn't well. She's… she's not herself. Can you… can you stop coming? She just… she needs space." He didn't know how else to explain the heavy, sad feeling that had wrapped around his older sister. He believed the adults around him, that it was just a terrible shock, but he saw the deeper sadness in Shiyi. 'I have to protect her, even from her friends.'

Kashima, true to his nature, tried to lock himself away from the terror. He stopped answering calls and texts. His parents, worried about his quietness after the 'terrible accident,' left him alone, thinking he needed time. He spent countless hours in his room, surrounded by books and his computer. He buried himself in complex studies, in logic problems, in anything that demanded his full brainpower, hoping to push away the horrifying images of the crash. He searched online, frantically, for any obscure legends, any scientific explanation, any loophole, anything that could make sense of what had happened, and what was happening to them. But the more he searched, the more the cold, hard facts of the curse refused to fit into his logical world. He felt like he was losing his mind. He shut out his friends completely, feeling that their shared burden was too heavy to carry, and his own quest for an answer was too personal to share.

Kento and Shido lived together in the Kamitani home, just as they had for many years, but the atmosphere had changed. The once lively household was now tinged with a constant, unspoken grief that Kento's parents could only guess at. Kento's guilt was a constant fire. He saw Tamiko's faint smile, her last kiss, playing over and over in his mind. He barely slept, tormented by nightmares. 'It's all my fault. I started this. I killed her.' Shido, meanwhile, was hollowed out by grief. The light in his eyes was gone. He sometimes stood staring out the window for hours, lost in his thoughts of Tamiko, his last confession of love to her echoing endlessly. He blamed himself for not stopping her, for not doing something. They were both drowning in their own oceans of despair, trying to find a way to breathe, but only managing to gasp for air in sync, sharing the silent weight of their terrible secret.

Hori, however, refused to let the group completely fall apart. She was still meeting Kento and Shido at the Kamitani home, their shared space now a quiet refuge for the few who remained connected. She brought them small gifts of food, tried to make them talk, even if it was just about school or everyday things. She kept texting Shiyi, even when Shiyi didn't reply. She kept calling Kashima, only getting his answering machine. Hori felt a growing loneliness, a terrible fear of being the only one left fighting to hold onto their friendship, to hold onto some kind of hope. 'We can't just let go. We can't give up.' She felt the curse drawing closer, tightening its grip, but also the painful truth: the curse was tearing them apart from the inside, slowly, one by one.

February 20th, 2017. Tokyo. Kento's Home, Suginami District. Evening. 7:00 PM.

Weeks crawled by, each day feeling heavier than the last. The grief and terror were a thick fog. One evening, Kento, lost in his room, felt a sudden, sharp urge. 'We can't just wait to die.' He walked out to the living room where Shido was sitting quietly, staring at the television.

"Shido," Kento said, his voice rough but firm. "We can't keep doing this. We have to do something."

Shido looked at him, his eyes dull. "What can we do, Kento? We saw what happened. There's no escaping it."

"Maybe not escape, but understand," Kento replied, a flicker of his old determination returning. "I've been thinking. My grandmother always talked about the shrine near her village, in the mountains. She said there was a holy man there, a very wise priest. Maybe he can help us. He might know something."

Shido paused, then slowly nodded. "It's better than doing nothing."

Hori arrived shortly after, bringing a small dessert for them. When Kento told her his idea, her eyes widened, a spark of hope replacing some of her sadness. "A holy person? Yes! Anything is better than waiting."

They tried reaching Shiyi and Ryuichi again. Shiyi's phone went straight to voicemail, and Ryuichi's parents politely told Hori he wasn't seeing anyone. It was clear they would have to go alone.

February 22nd, 2017. Tokyo. Ancient Mountain Shrine, Okutama Region. Morning. 10:30 AM.

Two days later, Kento, Shido, and Hori traveled far from the city's concrete. They rode trains, then a local bus, finally walking a winding path up a quiet mountain. The air grew colder and cleaner here. Tall, ancient trees stood guard along the path.

 The silence was deep, broken only by the crunch of their shoes on the gravel and the rustle of leaves. They found the shrine: old wooden buildings nestled among the trees, their roofs covered in green moss. A long stone staircase led up to the main hall, and the air was calm, peaceful, but also filled with a strange, old power.

At the main hall, they found the holy priest. He was an old man with kind, deep-set eyes and a long, white beard. He wore simple robes and sat peacefully, breathing in the quiet air. He seemed to be expecting them.

Kento stepped forward, feeling nervous. "Excuse me, holy one," he began, his voice shaky. "We… we have a terrible problem. Something beyond what we understand."

The priest nodded slowly, his eyes gentle. "I sense a great darkness upon you, children. A pain that is not of this world alone."

With heavy hearts, the three friends began to tell their story. They spoke of the Toriyama Estate, the basement, the strange ritual, the spirit's chilling words, the tree, and finally, the horror of Tamiko's flight and the plane crash. They left nothing out.

The priest listened quietly, his face unchanging, but his eyes grew darker with each word. When they finished, a long silence filled the air.

"You speak of a place… a place where the veil between worlds is thin," the priest said, his voice low and serious. "The ritual you found… it was not just a game. It was a true connection." He stood up, his eyes now sharp. "Show me this house. Show me the place where this began."

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✍️ Author's Note 

 💔 This chapter was incredibly hard to write. Tamiko's goodbye left a hole in the group — and maybe in your heart too. If you made it to the end, thank you for staying with them through the storm.

🥀 I know it hurts right now, but this is just the beginning. The curse isn't done yet. The next chapter will change everything again.

💬 I'd love to hear your thoughts — did you see it coming? What hurt the most?

🪙 And if you felt something — anything — please consider dropping a Power Stone. It helps so much, especially as a new writer trying to grow.

Thank you for being here. You matter more than you know. 🌙

With gratitude,

-SakuraShinomiya 

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