Chapter 8 : Unknown Help
I sat on my bed late at night. Outside my tent, it was almost pitch dark. Crickets chirped in the forest, mixed with strange, distant sounds of the monsters lurking beyond the trees.
My gaze drifted to the bandages wrapped around my body—the scars Reiji left behind before he abandoned the team. I still didn't understand why he turned out that way, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Now there were only five of us left.
Soft footsteps rustled just outside my tent. So, not everyone was asleep.
Then I heard Kira's voice.
"Hey, Mizuno…" she said quietly. "Can I come in? If you don't mind."
"Yeah."
She stepped inside, looking tired and worn. She had only just regained consciousness after being knocked out in the fight against Lurer.
Her eyes met mine, and her expression softened. She wasn't in any better shape than I was, but maybe that was what connected us. In this brutal world, she was the one I had fought beside more than anyone else.
She gave a small nod and lowered herself beside me, moving carefully like every part of her ached. For a while, neither of us said anything.
I glanced at her. "How are you holding up?"
She let out a faint breath, almost a laugh, but without any real humor. "I could ask you the same."
"I asked first."
That got a small, tired smile out of her. "I'll live," she said. "Barely, but… yeah."
I nodded. "Good."
Another quiet stretch passed. It wasn't uncomfortable—just… still.
"What about the others?" I asked. "Yasuto and Leo?"
"Yasuto's asleep," she said. "Knocked out the moment we got back." Her gaze dipped slightly. "Leo's still unconscious… hasn't woken up yet."
I frowned a little but didn't press.
"And Satoshi?"
She glanced toward the tent flap. "He's up. Doing something on his laptop… wouldn't stop typing."
A faint huff of amusement escaped me. "Of course he is."
The silence returned, softer this time. She shifted, leaning back against the tent pole with a quiet exhale.
"…You did good out there," she said after a while, like she wasn't sure she should say it.
I looked at her. "So did you."
She shook her head lightly. "Still got knocked out."
"Yeah," I said, "but you still helped a lot."
She didn't answer right away. She just looked at me for a moment—really looked—then her expression softened again.
"…Thanks."
I gave a small nod.
She kept her eyes on the ground, staring at the base of the tent as if she were debating whether to say something.
"Did Reiji really leave the team?"
"Yeah," I said. "Honestly… it might be for the best. He was becoming a problem."
But even as I said it, my voice didn't sound convincing. Not even to me. Reiji was a pain in the ass—but he was also the only one willing to take risks when things got bad.
She didn't reply right away. The look on her face was a mix of disbelief and reluctant acceptance, like she was still trying to process it.
"You should get some sleep," I said after a moment. "You look exhausted. We still have to reach Shizumori."
"You're right," she murmured, pushing herself up. "You should get some rest too. Tomorrow's going to be long."
She stepped out of the tent slowly. Just before leaving, she paused and glanced back.
"I'm going to check on Leo," she said softly. "Make sure he's okay."
A brief pause.
"Goodnight."
Then she was gone.
I lay back on my bed, staring up at the tent ceiling. Sleep didn't come easily. The fight with the Lurer kept replaying in my mind—every movement, every close call. It left a weight in my chest I couldn't shake, a quiet question lingering underneath it all:
Can I enjoy my leftover ramen ever again?
At some point, exhaustion must have won. I don't remember falling asleep.
When I opened my eyes again, it was morning.
There was movement outside the tent—shuffling, voices, footsteps.
Either everyone was already up or something out there was waiting to take my head off.
Thankfully it was the first one, everyone was already awake and sitting around on the nearby logs. It felt right like this—no gore, no violence. Just a quiet moment to breathe.
Yasuto sat wrapped in bandages, looking worn but steady. Somehow, he still managed a warm smile when he saw me, lifting a hand to wave me over.
"Morning," he said gently. "How're you holding up?"
I sat down beside him. "That's least of the concern you were bruised more than me."
He chuckled under his breath and flexed his bandaged shoulder, wincing just slightly. "I'll be fine. I've handled worse." His tone was calm, reassuring—like he was trying to ease everyone else more than himself. Then his expression shifted, just a little. "I'm more worried about Leo."
I frowned. "He's still unconscious?"
Before Yasuto could answer, Satoshi spoke up from across the logs, his eyes still fixed on his laptop.
"He's awake," he said, his voice even and precise. "But mentally unstable. Elevated stress response, erratic behavior… he's close to breaking."
I glanced toward him. "You've been watching him that closely?"
"I observe patterns," Satoshi replied simply, typing a few more keys before finally pausing. "And Leo isn't hiding it very well."
Yasuto sighed quietly. "He's not built for this… not like the rest of us. But he's trying."
That didn't sit right with me.
I pushed myself to my feet. "I'll go check on him."
Behind me, Yasuto gave a small nod. "Be patient with him, alright?"
Satoshi didn't look up again, but he added, almost absently, "And be careful what you say. Your words will have consequences."
I didn't respond. I just headed off, already feeling that something wasn't right.
I pushed the tent flap aside and stepped in. Leo was awake, sitting up—but barely holding himself together. His hands were tangled in his hair, shoulders shaking, breaths uneven like he couldn't get enough air in. He didn't even notice me at first.
"…Leo."
He flinched, his head snapping toward me, eyes wide and unfocused. "I can't do this," he said immediately, no buildup, no hesitation. "I can't do this, Mizuno."
I stepped closer, slower this time. "Hey—"
"No." He shook his head hard, like he was trying to shut something out. "Don't—don't try to calm me down. I've been telling myself the same thing over and over and it's not working." His voice cracked. "I thought I could handle it. I thought maybe this time would be different, but it's not. It's the same feeling. That same… pressure."
I didn't interrupt.
"The pressure's too much," he said, quieter now. "Out there, when it matters—it just crushes me. And everyone else keeps moving like it's nothing."
"That's not—"
"It is." His eyes locked onto mine. "You don't get it. You move forward. You fight, even when you're hurt." His voice dropped. "I just… break."
Silence settled between us, thick and heavy.
I exhaled slowly. "You think I don't break?" He didn't answer. "I just don't do it where everyone can see."
That made him pause. I stepped closer, stopping right in front of him. "You're not weak because you're scared. You're weak if you decide that fear is the end of the story."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"I already know what you're thinking—that this is just who you are. That when it matters most, you'll fail."
He looked away. "…Yeah."
I nodded once. "Then stop trying to be someone else."
That got his attention.
"You're not a fighter," I said. "Fine. Then don't pretend to be one."
He frowned. "Then what am I supposed to do? Sit back while everyone else—"
"You're a unique musician."
He went still. I held his gaze.
"You shape noise into something that actually means something. You didn't give up even after your keyboard broke and unlocked your full potential, even for just a minute but it was a game changer against that monstrosity."
He didn't respond—but he wasn't shutting down either.
"You think strength here is just swinging a weapon?" I shook my head. "It's not. Half the time it's holding yourself together when everything in your head is telling you to fall apart."
His breathing slowed—just a little.
"You're still here, Leo. Even after everything. Even now." I gestured toward him. "Shaking, doubting, ready to quit—and still here. That's not someone who 'can't do this.'"
His fingers loosened slightly in his hair. "…It doesn't feel like that," he muttered.
"Yeah," I said. "It never does."
A brief silence followed.
"What if the pressure gets to me again?" he asked quietly.
I shrugged faintly. "Then it does—and you push through after. Even if it's messy."
I leaned back slightly. "You don't need to be perfect out there. You just need to not give up mid-step. I'm not asking you to be the strongest one here—I'm asking you to stay."
That hung in the air. For a few seconds, he didn't move. Then slowly, his shoulders dropped a fraction—not fixed, not okay, but not breaking either.
"…I hate this," he muttered.
A small breath escaped me. "Yeah. Same."
That earned the faintest, tired huff from him. It wasn't much—but it was enough to tell me he hadn't let go yet.
By the time we stepped out of the tents, the others were already packing up. The quiet from earlier was gone—replaced by the usual low movement, gear shifting, Yasuto giving quiet instructions.
No one said it out loud, but everyone felt it.
We couldn't stay here.
"Ready?" Yasuto asked, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.
I gave a small nod. "As I'll ever be."
Kira glanced at me briefly, then at Leo. He looked tired—still shaken—but he was standing. That was enough.
We kept moving through the Eternal Forest.
The tents were long behind us now, swallowed by the trees. Even in daylight, the forest didn't feel any less wrong—just quieter in a way that made every sound feel closer.
No one talked much at first. Just footsteps, branches brushing past, the occasional glance exchanged and dropped just as fast.
"So what now?" I finally asked. "We just keep walking until something happens?"
"We don't have a better plan," Yasuto said. "Stopping here helps no one."
"Comforting," I muttered.
Kira adjusted her grip on her weapon. "We're basically guessing direction in a forest that doesn't end."
"Not entirely," Satoshi said.
That made me glance back. He was walking a little behind us, same calm expression as always, like nothing around us was even worth reacting to.
"What do you mean 'not entirely'?" I asked.
He reached into his bag and pulled something out.
A small compass.
The same one we'd taken from the body back in the Lurer's cave.
I frowned. "We still have that thing?"
"Yes," he said simply. "You didn't ask what I intended to do with it."
He held it up.
The needle wasn't steady. It twitched slightly—then settled.
Not pointing north.
Pointing somewhere deeper into the forest.
"…That's not normal," Kira said quietly.
"It isn't meant to be," Satoshi replied.
Yasuto narrowed his eyes. "So what is it pointing to?"
Satoshi didn't look at any of us when he answered.
"Forward."
Whatever was ahead—it wasn't random anymore.
"Alright," I said, tightening my grip. "We follow it."
And we kept moving.
At first, nothing seemed different. The forest stayed the same—dense and endless in that quiet, suffocating way. The trees loomed too close together, their branches tangling overhead like they were trying to block out the sky entirely. Even the light that filtered through felt dull, like it didn't belong.
But the compass didn't waver.
Satoshi walked near the front now, eyes flicking between the needle and the path ahead. For once, even he seemed more focused than detached. Yasuto stayed beside him, alert despite the stiffness in his movements. Kira and I followed just behind. Leo trailed slightly, but not as far back as before.
That alone felt like progress.
"How long do we keep trusting that thing?" I asked after a while.
"As long as it remains consistent," Satoshi replied without looking up.
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not meant to be."
I exhaled quietly.
At first, it was subtle. A turn that didn't feel familiar. A tree that looked… slightly off. Then another. And another.
"…Wait," Kira said, slowing her steps. "Isn't this the tree we had marked long ago?"
I looked to the left. A split trunk. Clean down the middle. I was sure I'd seen it before.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "We did."
Satoshi stopped walking. His eyes moved across the surroundings quickly, sharper than usual.
"No," he said. "We didn't."
"That's the same tree," I said flatly.
Kira frowned slightly. "…Are you sure about that?"
"It's identical," he corrected. "That doesn't make it the same."
Yasuto exhaled quietly. "Everyone stop for a second."
We did.
The forest felt tighter now. Not physically—but direction didn't feel stable anymore. Like the paths between the trees weren't fixed.
Leo shifted uneasily. "I don't like this…"
"None of us do," Kira said under her breath.
I turned to Satoshi. "Compass?"
He held it up.
The needle spun not a twitch. Not a small adjustment. It spun fast, completely out of control.
"…That's new," I said.
"Yes," Satoshi replied.
"Got any useful insight to go with that?"
"…No."
Great.
The ground under my feet suddenly felt less reliable. Like if I took the wrong step, I'd end up somewhere else entirely.
"Routes are changing," Yasuto said quietly. "This place… it's shifting around us."
"Then how do we move forward?" Kira asked.
No one answered.
For a moment, all we could hear was that faint, unnatural rustling of leaves—like the forest was adjusting itself around us.
Then—
A voice.
Light. Almost bored.
"You're doing it wrong, you know."
Every one of us snapped upward.
There, perched on a high branch like it was the most natural thing in the world—
A girl.
Small. Maybe twelve, maybe younger. Hard to tell. She sat with one leg dangling, the other tucked under her, completely relaxed like she wasn't in the middle of the most cursed forest imaginable.
She tilted her head, looking down at us with mild curiosity.
"…You've been walking in circles for a while now."
No one spoke for a second.
Then I narrowed my eyes. "And you've been watching?"
She shrugged lightly. "A little. It was kind of interesting at first."
Kira frowned. "You're… not attacking us."
The girl blinked. "Should I be?"
"…No," Kira said quickly.
"Then I won't," she replied simply.
That alone made this situation feel even stranger.
Yasuto stepped forward slightly, careful but composed. "Who are you?"
She rocked her foot idly. "No one important."
"People who say that usually are," Satoshi said.
She smiled faintly at that—but didn't confirm or deny it.
My gaze dropped briefly to the compass in Satoshi's hand, then back up to her.
"You said we're doing it wrong."
"Yeah," she said. "You're following it like it's supposed to guide you on its own."
"It was guiding us," I said.
"Mm," she hummed. "Not here."
I crossed my arms slightly. "Then what's it supposed to do?"
She leaned forward a little, resting her chin in her palm.
"It's not a pathfinder. It's a selector."
That made Satoshi's attention sharpen instantly. "Explain."
She pointed lazily at the compass. "There's a switch on the side. Tiny. You probably didn't notice."
Satoshi turned it slightly in his hand—and paused.
"There is," he said.
"You press it," the girl continued, "and then say where you want to go."
Silence.
"…That's it?" I asked.
"That's it."
Kira frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Neither does this forest," the girl shot back lightly.
Fair point.
Yasuto looked at the compass, then at her. "And it will take us there?"
She tilted her head again. "If the place exists—and if you're allowed to reach it."
"…Allowed?" Leo repeated quietly.
She didn't elaborate.
I exhaled slowly. "So instead of wandering around blindly, we just… choose."
"Exactly," she said. "Took you long enough."
I gave her a flat look. "You could've said something earlier."
"I could've," she agreed. "But then I wouldn't have gotten to watch you walk in loops."
"…You're enjoying this."
"A little."
Kira sighed under her breath. "Unbelievable…"
Satoshi was already focused on the compass again, fingers brushing over the small switch.
"This changes everything," he murmured.
"Yeah," I said. "It does."
I looked back up at the girl.
She was still watching us. Calm. Unbothered. Like none of this affected her at all.
"…You've been here a while," I said.
"Long enough."
"You know this place."
"Better than you."
I hesitated for a second.
"Then— Come with us."
The others glanced at me, slightly surprised I said it out loud.
The girl blinked and started to laugh.
Not loudly. Just a soft, amused sound.
"Oh, that's a new one."
I raised an eyebrow. "That a no?"
She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, still smiling faintly.
"You don't even know what I am."
"Does it matter?" I said.
Kira crossed her arms. "You're clearly not hostile. That's already better than most things we've met."
"True," the girl said. "But I like it up here."
She leaned back slightly against the trunk, completely at ease.
"Besides," she added, "if I start walking around with you, I might actually get dragged into something annoying."
Leo muttered under his breath, "…We are pretty annoying."
She pointed at him. "See? He gets it."
I huffed a quiet breath. "So you're just going to stay here?"
"Yep."
"And just… watch people get lost?"
"Sometimes I help," she said. "Like now."
"Out of kindness?"
She smiled faintly again. "Out of boredom."
Yasuto gave a small nod. "Either way… thank you."
She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't mention it."
Satoshi pressed the small switch on the compass and all of us instinctively focused.
"…Say it," the girl reminded.
I glanced at the others. Kira met my eyes. Yasuto gave a small, steady nod. Even Leo, still shaken, looked a little more grounded now.
"…Shizumori," I said.
For a second nothing happened, then the needle snapped into place.
Firm and Steady.
I looked up at the girl one last time.
"…Guess this is it."
"Guess so," she said.
A small pause.
"Try not to die before you get there."
I smirked faintly. "We'll do our best."
"Mm," she hummed. "I'll be disappointed if you don't, after all I wasted so much of my precious time guiding you."
With that, she leaned back again, already losing interest. Like we were just another passing moment.
I turned forward.
"Alright," I said. "Let's move."