SCARS & PETALS

The next morning, Tsukiko found herself standing outside a modest herbal shop tucked into the corner of the village square. A wooden sign above the door read Takeo's Remedies, and the faint aroma of dried herbs and spices wafted through the open window.

Inside, an elderly man with a weathered face and sharp eyes was carefully bundling lavender stalks with twine. Tsukiko stepped in, the soft chime of a bell announcing her arrival.

"Morning," the man greeted, his voice raspy but kind. "What brings you here, miss?"

Tsukiko introduced herself and explained her search, watching as the man's expression shifted from polite curiosity to quiet intrigue.

"Lunar Bloom, eh?" Mr. Takeo set the lavender bundle down and leaned on the counter. "I haven't heard that name in decades. Thought it was just a fairy tale."

"Fairy tale or not, any information would help," Tsukiko urged, her voice steady but hopeful.

The old man paused, his fingers tracing the edge of the counter as he thought. "There's a story my grandmother told me when I was a boy. She used to say there was a flower that bloomed only under the full moon, up near the mountain lake. They said its petals glowed like silver in the night."

Tsukiko's heart quickened. "A lake near the mountains? Do you know how to get there?"

Mr. Takeo nodded slowly. "I haven't been up that way in years, but the trail's still there, I reckon. It's deep in the forest, past the cedar groves. Not many go there—it's quiet, almost sacred. Some even say it's protected by the spirits."

"Spirits?" Tsukiko asked, tilting her head.

The man chuckled softly. "Just old village superstitions. But I'll warn you, it's not an easy path. Steep and overgrown in places. You'd best prepare yourself."

"I'll manage," Tsukiko said with determination.

Mr. Takeo gave her a long look, then nodded. "Wait here." He shuffled to the back of the shop and returned moments later with a small cloth bundle. "Dried yarrow. It'll help if you run into any trouble—cuts, bruises, that sort of thing. Take it, no charge."

"Thank you," Tsukiko said, touched by his kindness.

"Good luck, young lady," Mr. Takeo said as she turned to leave. "And if you find that flower, bring back a story worth telling."

Tsukiko smiled. "I will."

Without wasting a moment, Tsukiko adjusted her backpack and set off for the lake Mr. Takeo had described. 

With each step she took, the weight of her journey felt both heavier and more promising. 

The path Mr. Takeo had described was far from easy. The woods grew denser with each step, the air thick with the scent of pine. 

Birds called faintly in the distance, their voices almost lost in the rustling of the trees. Her boots crunched over the dry leaves beneath her, and the occasional branch snapped as she pushed through thick brush.

By midday, she came across a small stream, its gentle gurgle filling the silence. She knelt down to take a drink, the cool water refreshing against the heat of the day.

"Not the Lunar Bloom, but still beautiful," she murmured, admiring a bright red flower nearby.

She straightened and glanced up the path, knowing she had miles to go. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. The trail was growing steeper, and the ground was slippery from loose rocks and dirt. She wiped sweat from her brow and sighed.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself, her voice swallowed by the vast quiet. "How did anyone find this flower?"

Just then, she heard rustling in the bushes. Her heart skipped, but it was just a deer, its hooves tapping lightly on the earth as it bounded off into the trees. Tsukiko exhaled and chuckled to herself.

"Well, at least something's enjoying itself," she said, before resuming her climb.

By the time evening came, the trail had narrowed to a faint path, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the forest floor. Her legs ached, and every step felt like a struggle. The sun was setting fast, and the temperature dropped with the fading light.

"I'll need to go back to the inn," she murmured. The forest was growing darker, the sounds of distant animals and rustling leaves growing more prominent in the quiet. As she's back to her inn, her hands shake slightly from exhaustion.

As she sat at the balcony, watching the stars, the forest around her seemed to close in. The only sound now was the occasional gust of wind. Tsukiko stared into the stars, her mind racing. She couldn't stop now.

"I'll find it," she whispered to herself, as the night pressed in.

The next morning, after a restless night spent, Tsukiko packed up her belongings and set off again. 

The crisp morning air was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the blanket she had left behind. With each step, the path became more challenging. The trail narrowed, and the trees grew thicker, their roots twisting across the ground like natural obstacles.

The forest seemed alive around her—birds calling overhead, leaves rustling in the breeze, and the distant sound of a stream babbling nearby. 

Tsukiko kept her pace steady, though her muscles were sore from yesterday's climb. Every so often, she paused to check the map, glancing up at the jagged peaks ahead that loomed like silent sentinels.

As she ventured deeper into the woods, the path became less defined, forcing her to step over rocks and navigate through thick underbrush. The air grew heavier, the atmosphere more charged with the sense of isolation. 

Tsukiko reached for a branch to steady herself, only to have it snap under her hand, sending a shower of leaves fluttering to the ground.

"Great," she muttered to herself, brushing off the leaves from her jacket.

The trail steepened, and Tsukiko's breath grew heavier with each step. Her legs burned from the constant uphill climb, and the distant sound of rushing water seemed to mock her fatigue. Still, she pushed on, driven by the thought of the lake and the elusive Lunar Bloom.

Suddenly, the earth beneath her feet shifted. 

She gasped, her body jerking forward as she lost her balance. Before she could react, she felt herself tipping over the edge of a cliff. Panic flooded her chest, her body teetering dangerously on the precipice.

Instinctively, she reached out, but her fingers couldn't grasp anything solid. Just as the ground seemed to slip from beneath her, a strong arm shot out, wrapping around her waist, pulling her back with surprising force. 

She inhaled sharply, feeling the warmth of his body against hers as he yanked her safely into his chest.

She looked up, stunned, into the eyes of a stranger—a tall, lean man with dark hair tied loosely at the back. His intense, sharp gaze met hers with his hand, still firm around her waist, held her steady.