The quiet prayer echoed through the air, as if someone had been waiting for her breathless prayer, the fog that veiled the mountain began to stir with will. From within its shifting silver folds, a figure emerged, half-swallowed by mist, as though summoned by her whisper. He didn't rush, didn't speak with force, but his presence filled the silence like a heartbeat in the stillness.
Perhaps he said something—soft, low—but Misaki couldn't hear. Pain dulled everything: her ears, her breath, her thoughts. Then, slowly, something began to rise. A glow. Silver and serene. It shimmered faintly at first, a subtle gleam at his shoulders, then spread like moonlight on water. The air trembled with his grace.
Slowly, the glow gathered around him, folding gently like wings. And then—he rose. Not like a mortal, but more like a star being called back to its sky. Misaki felt it deep within her Soul. Warm, gentle like a protective light embracing her all of a sudden.
It reminded her of the time she had stood near the Sword of Justice. The same sense of something sacred, something honest and protective. Her breathing slowed. Her clenched fists softened. Misaki let out a breath, she didn't realize she was holding. And the light, like arms made of sky, wrapped around her. Whether it was sleep or something deeper, she didn't know. But she surrendered. And the world, at last, let her rest.
After who knows how long,
She awoke not in fear, but in warmth.
The bed beneath her was soft. The silence around her was kind. A delicate fragrance floated through the air, part vanilla, part lotus. Familiar. Sacred. It was the scent she had missed the day before, when grief had clouded everything.
Then, a voice.
"Misaki … are you alright now?"
Misaki jolted.
"Mitsuo-sensei…?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
"Yes, Misaki chan, don't worry I'm right here."
A hand brushed her cheeks with a steady warmth. She reached for it without thinking, clutching it as she once clung to her mother when afraid. His other hand cupped her cheek with a touch so calm, so human, it anchored her. Having entered such a comfort zone, Misaki's true childlike feelings came out through her sobbing. At that very moment Mitsuo hugged her affectionately to calm her down.
"Hush.. You're safe now," he murmured.
"And I promise, as long as I breathe, no harm will ever touch you."
Then, with a soft smile in his voice,
"And besides, is it really that easy to defeat our brave little Misaki?"
After this, Mitsuo, who was still hugging Misaki, started patting her head tenderly and continued,
"...But despite all this, if you still want to cry a little, you can cry without hesitation, there is no one here who'd judge you..."
Hearing this, Misaki's tears grew even more intense. But tonight, after enduring so much stress, Misaki's body couldn't handle her crying anymore. So suddenly,
A hiccup escaped her lips, an unexpected sound that momentarily interrupted her sobs. Still, the harsh truth remained that sometimes, no matter how much we wish to, we simply cannot stop ourselves from crying, Misaki couldn't either. As her emotions swelled, so did the frequency of her hiccups. At that moment, Mitsuo realized—this time, he had to be the one to calm her down.
Gently patting her head, he said,
"Misaki, crying is never a sign of weakness. It actually helps ease the storm inside. So don't think of your tears as weakness and don't let them take over you. especially when you're not weak, never so."
She forced a calm smile, holding back her tears. Mitsuo gently handed her a clay bowl of water.
"Drink. Slowly."
She obeyed, without a single word.
Then, Mitsuo held out a bun wrapped in cloth toward her.
"I think someone's a little hungry, Wouldn't Misaki want to eat this bun?" he teased.
"T-Thank you for your kindness, Sensei, b-but I'm alright," Misaki replied, her voice trembling from sobs.
Mitsuo watched her tear-stained face for a moment. Then a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued teasing,
"Hmm… Are you sure you don't want to taste this delicious~ bun?"
A light flush of embarrassment colored Misaki's cheeks.
"Umm… Sensei, I'm… I'm absolutely fine—"
And just then—
Grrrrrowl..!
Her stomach made its own case. Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she curled in on herself, utterly embarrassed.
Mitsuo chuckled—gentle but said in a teasing tone.
"Well, you might feel perfectly fine—but it seems your tummy has a different opinion."
She buried her face in her palms.
"Sensei, I…"
"Alright, Alright"
He leaned in, lowering his voice playfully,
"What if I tell you this sweet bun came from Lord Akimitsu himself? What would you do if he gets upset because you refused his offering?"
Mitsuo said while pulling her hands away from her face and wiping a stray tear from misaki's cheek.
She froze.
"L-Lord Akimitsu gave me this…?"
"Of course," Mitsuo said.
"He saw your efforts. You swept his temple while others slept. This is just his way of saying thank you to you."
Her face lit up for a fleeting moment, but the glow dimmed as a heavier thought settled in. Her voice trembled as she spoke, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Every time I came here—whether to visit, to find a quiet moment of peace, or simply to clean his temple—I did it out of love and respect for him. Being here, doing these small things... it soothes my heart. That's why I kept coming. Please believe me, Sensei, I never needed a gift to prove his love for me."
As her words trailed off, two silent tears slipped down her cheeks.
Her confession seemed to reach Mitsuo's heart. After a brief silence, he gently wiped her tears and spoke in the same calm voice as before.
"Misaki, do you know what Lord Akimitsu would say to you if he were here right now?"
Misaki shook her head.
Mitsuo rested a gentle hand on her hair, a soft smile touching his lips.
"He would say that: while most people consider crying a weakness, it truly isn't. But when we cry too much—like you are now—it can leave a hollow space in our heart. And if we're not careful enough, that emptiness can quietly be filled with negativity. Should we really let that happen?"
Misaki shook her head again, eyes wide. Mitsuo smiled.
"Would you like to know what we should fill it with instead?"
She nodded. Mitsuo lifted the sweet bun toward her.
"I'll tell you what Lord Akimitsu would say… but first, he wanted you to eat this."
Misaki gently held his hand and began to eat without a word. The moment was small. Fragile. She chewed quietly, eyes closed, lips curved in simple joy. And as she did, Mitsuo watched—not speaking, not moving. Just watching. His heart stirred, his gaze softened, and for a moment, something unspoken glinted in his eyes. Because sometimes, when someone finally accepts love, it heals the one who gives it too.
After a while when she'd nearly finished, he spoke again.
"You see, when the heart feels light after crying, that emptiness can feel like darkness. And darkness invites negativity. But we must resist—and choose Hope instead. That's all."
Misaki, still chewing, sat a little straighter. Though her eyes held no vision, they seemed to shimmer faintly, as if catching light from within.
Mitsuo reassured her gently,
"Yes, Misaki, it's true—and everyone should come to accept it. The world may give you many reasons to feel disappointed, but even then, only those who hold on to hope are able to move forward."
At his words, a soft smile bloomed on Misaki's face. Though her eyes remained sightless, they welled with tears again—this time glistening with a quiet shimmer of hope.
The innocent expression she wore stirred something tender in Mitsuo's heart, just as it had the day before when he'd found her singing alone by the lake. Standing at a distance then, listening silently, her voice and the radiant of her presence had filled him with the same unspoken warmth he felt now.
He smiled softly, teasing her to gently lift the mood.
"Although, Misaki does look more beautiful when she smiles than when she cries."
Her smile widened. "Is my smile really that beautiful, Sensei?"
"It truly is, Misaki,"
He replied warmly. Then, with a thoughtful tone, he added,
"There's one more thing I want to suggest. A person who has always walked the path of truth should never stray from it—not even by mistake. Because in this world, not everyone has the strength to stand by the truth until the end. But as far as I know you, you never compromise with lies or injustice, no matter what. So whatever your true feelings are—no matter how awkward or difficult—they must be expressed. Every single time. Alright?"
His words filled Misaki with renewed strength. Hope blossomed into Invincible courage, and that courage lit up her face more than ever. As her eyes shimmered with that inner light and a radiant smile
spread across her lips, she nodded with confidence.
Seeing her renewed spirit, Mitsuo smiled again.
"So, our Misaki loves sweets, doesn't she?"
She blushed, then smiled and nodded. And in that moment, the two shared a quiet joy, gently wrapped in mutual understanding.
And just like that, in a quiet room, gentle, soft laughter and the sweet, delicate sounds of giggles began to ripple across the space. In that tender, unplanned moment—drifting as naturally as breath—there stirred a shared desire to create a memory worth holding. And so, with that gentle, fleeting joy, another pearl was threaded into the sacred string of Misaki's life—and Mitsuo's as well.
At the Entrance to the Court of the Universe:
A strange, visionary figure stood before the gates (if they could even be called that) at the threshold of the universe itself. His form defied logic: a child's face, innocent and untouched by time; a broad, powerful torso pulsing with primeval energy; and frail, wiry legs like an old man who had walked too far in life. It was as though each part of him had aged differently, shaped by the different times of countless realms, each running in its own rhythm.
As he approached, the invisible doors parted without a sound, responding not to command, but to presence. They sealed shut behind him just as silently. This is the birthplace of all creation, the fate of entire creation gets decided here. This court is the epicentre of the countless universes, only the ones with extreme spiritual power can see it with universe's order.
The Strange figure walked through a vast, dim corridor where no sun or star cast light. Only the rippling glow of a rainbow path beneath his feet illuminated the way. Then, gradually, clusters of golden and green light began to gather above him, radiating a slow, sacred warmth. As these lights took shape, a sudden surge of energy burst through the space, and from above, an infinite column of light descended like an aurora of gold, green, and violet hues. At the same time, a ring of shimmering rainbow water formed beneath him.
The traveller or better yet Time himself, knelt low and bowed deeply. His voice was respectful, unwavering.
"God. Mother Nature. Accept my obeisance."
God and Mother Nature smiled gently. Their voices echoed in harmony.
"Toki, why have you abandoned 'Jikan no Sekai' to come here in person? Though you are Time itself and untouched by its constraints. Still, you could have reached us through telepathy. Why endure such difficulty?"
Toki kept his head bowed. His voice was humble.
"My Lord, all of creation belongs to You and Mother. Not even a speck of dust moves without Your will. I came here not of impulse, but because I believe You have permitted it or I would not be here otherwise. I seek answers to questions I cannot overlook."
Mother Nature's smile deepened with gentle curiosity.
"What question troubles you so greatly that Time itself would walk this path for an answer?"
Toki lifted his gaze, still kneeling.
"Mother, I have strived to fulfil every duty You entrusted to me, with utmost sincerity. Yet I find myself perplexed. Those rare souls who walk with wisdom and uphold the virtues of the Supreme Soul, without whom this entire creation might collapse, why must they face so many trials? They who never sought glory, who walk their path with quiet honour, why must they constantly prove their worth?"
He paused for a moment, then continued.
"Yes, I could have spoken to You through thought. But some truths, when passed through shorter paths, lose their weight. Besides, in these trials, something troubling persists. Those who must prove themselves often find more foes than friends, even when surrounded by kin. The enemy does not always wear a different face. Often, they come cloaked in familiarity, hidden among loved ones. Their deepest wounds are delivered not by strangers, but by those closest to them."
Toki took a breath.
"I am Time. By Your grace, I am eternal. I was present at the dawn of creation, and I shall remain even beyond its dusk. I do not begin, nor can I end. I am impartial and unshaken, acting only under Your command. Through me, your judgments unfold. Travelers enter my stream, some finding their way, others losing it. Many confuse right for wrong, and wrong for right, chasing fleeting triumphs. They gain much, yet their desire is never quenched. They are forgotten, or worse, remembered with contempt."
"Then there are those who choose truth. Their path is steep, lined with obstacles, yet they persist. Their desires dwell on a higher plane, and few can understand them. But even after they're gone, their memories are etched into time not for glory, but for the light they left behind."
Toki's voice grew quiet, almost reverent.
"Some take the wrong road and somehow find the right end. Others follow a path they thought righteous, only to be lost. I have seen it all. Their joys, their struggles, their searches. Even when they achieve something, those who took refuge in falsehood fail to treasure it—and are lost once more. Those who remain honest suffer deeply, but eventually succeed. And when they disappear, a few of them, those rare and great souls, are granted a place in memory, if only briefly. Perhaps, one day, even that will fade. Perhaps that is the law of creation. Only I remain by Your command, carrying the countless memories of those who once passed through me."
He bowed once more, and sighed.
"I know all of this is a result of Your divine design. I do not question it. I never have. But when I saw Kiyoko and Akimitsu—those two who never chased desire, who performed their duties with quiet integrity—facing trials of their own, that's why, a question stirred in me."
"They are not without emotion, yet they have always hidden their hearts, so that their duties may never be tainted by personal longing. Why must they now be tested? What more is there left for them to prove? Is this trial truly for them or for the entire universe?"
Toki raised his eyes slowly.
"Why has the Sword of Justice descended here? What will it bring? What shall it leave behind? And… why, for the first time, do I feel something unfamiliar within myself...towards them?"
He lowered his head in reverence.
"My Supreme Father. My Eternal Mother. Please guide me through this storm that swells within me. Show me the path… or let me be lost only in Your will."
Both God and Mother Nature looked at each other, then turned to Toki and said with gentle affection.
"Toki, first, let's talk about emotions, shall we? You see, those who are truly emotionless are incapable of reacting to anything at all. Until now, perhaps you hadn't encountered a moment intense enough to reveal your emotions. That's why no question, concern, or reaction ever arose within you and so, you believed yourself to be without feeling.
Yet you've always accepted the responsibility of delivering the judgments of the universe. From our perspective, such a role may appear neutral—but does neutrality equate to being emotionless? And still, despite all this, you believed that you felt nothing. But now, having learned of Kiyoko and Akimitsu's suffering for seemingly no reason, a storm of questions stirs in your mind."
"Tell us, Toki—can such questions arise in one who truly lacks feeling? In someone who lives above all thoughts and emotions? Ask yourself this. Sometimes, the answer lies within the question itself or nearby, right before your eyes. The task is simply to recognize it. Hopefully, this time, the answer will not be too far from your reach."
There was a pause. Then God continued,
"Secondly, before we speak of Kiyoko and Akimitsu, let us ask you a question. Toki, do you believe that all things in this creation operate under the will of the Supreme Soul?"
Without hesitation, Toki answered with unwavering faith,
"Of course, my Lord. There is no doubt in me."
Mother Nature smiled softly and said with kindness,
"Then, when you asked about Kiyoko and Akimitsu—saying they never allowed their personal feelings to interfere with their responsibilities—did it not occur to you that even their feelings might have been permitted by the Supreme Soul? That perhaps such emotions were placed in them for the greater good of the world? And still, they chose to overlook them and fulfil their duties."
Toki looked toward the supreme source of all creation and spoke solemnly,
"I understand, Lord."
He stood, bowed, and said,
"Then, please allow me to take my leave."
But just as he turned, God's voice called gently after him:
"Toki, you are the first part of My existence. When creation began, you left a fragment of yourself within Me and emerged from My core, carrying the larger part, alive with feeling. You could sense the boundless power within Me, yet pride and greed never took root in you. Perhaps that is what granted you the strength to master your own emotions.
Since that moment, you have carried My entire essence within you—without concern for consequence, without desire for reward or gain. And most remarkably, you became not only a vessel of My will but a knower of creation's deepest truths, both seen and unseen. In your selfless devotion to duty and to the Supreme Power, asking for nothing in return, you proved yourself. You are a primordial guru. That is why all should look to you to learn the true greatness of life."
God paused, eyes filled with memory and reverence.
"And remember, you asked Me another question: 'Is this trial really theirs? Or is it the trial of the universe itself?' Toki, isn't the answer clear? If they are part of the Supreme Soul, then this test belongs to all of creation. And if so, do only they endure the outcome? Or does the Supreme Soul suffer with them, too?"
Toki's eyes widened, a look of realization and sorrow settling over him.
"Then all this time… through them, you have been the one suffering. Even today, I did not appear because I feared for them but because I feared for You, my Lord. Therefore, this Toki will forever bow to Your greatness."
He knelt again; head lowered in deep reverence. God and Mother Nature smiled—softly, warmly—and with great love said:
"Toki, this is why we, united as the Supreme Power, have cherished and respected you from the very beginning. May you be well."
At the mention of the Sword of Justice, God and Mother Nature exchanged a knowing glance and smiled. Toki understood. He felt the message resonate in his heart.
Closing his eyes, he bowed slightly, bringing his hands together in the prāṇa mudrā. At that moment, small tears gathered at the corners of his closed eyes.
Then, a white ray of light emerged from the purplish-golden-green aurora above, descending upon Toki. The light formed a radiant pillar that enveloped him completely and, in a heartbeat, he vanished within it. The beam scattered into shimmering particles, dissolving the Court of the Universe along with it.
And so, the Court of the Universe quietly concluded.
---------
To be continued...