"Wait!"
Shizume struggled to keep her balance as her feet slipped across the loose gravel of the embankment.
"Come back!"
Her feet touched level ground and she was off again, running hard, shoes pounding up a cloud of dust from the dirt road.
"Don't leave me here!"
But it was already too late. The revving sounds of the engine were growing fainter, accompanied by the crunch of tires on the unpaved road. Shizume caught a glimpse of yellow, and then the school bus vanished around a turn in the path. Gasping for breath, she fell to her knees, legs shaking with exhaustion and fear. They can't have done this, they can't have left me behind. Wiping her sleeve across nose Shizume sniffled nervously. They can't have forgotten about me. Someone will remember, they'll come back. They have to...Shizume knelt in the road for a long time, staring after the tire tracks that vanished away into the forest, willing the bus to appear around the corner. Straining her ears for the sound of the engine, she hardly dared to blink, hoping, knowing that the bus would appear any second now. Yet the only sound Shizume heard was her own pounding heartbeat, and the bus did not return.
Wiping her nose again, Shizume got shakily to her feet. Only twelve years old, her parents had refused to buy her a cell-phone, something she now wished for fervently. She slipped off her shoulder bag, rooting around through the contents to try and calm her frayed nerves. Shizume always felt better when she was doing something, even if it were only reviewing facts or taking inventory of her situation. Even as she rummaged through the bag, she shot covetous glances at the road, still hoping the bus might suddenly return.
Shizume had been excited at the prospect of a fieldtrip, all the students had been. A day spent playing in a mountain forest, looking up at towering ancient trees and watching as graceful deer wandered amid the leaves. For children born and raised in the urban bustle of Tokyo, the prospect seemed down-right magical. Yet now, alone and forgotten, the trees were strange and menacing titans, tall pillars like the bars of a cage, rising up around her, trapping Shizume in an alien world. The road was nothing but a winding track of dirt, a thin and untended line in a wild place, not like the wide, paved roadways of the city. Thinking back to the two-hour drive spent winding up the endless mountain face, with nothing but forest as far as the eye could see, the vastness of this place settled down on her like a weight. Feeling very small, Shizume tried to focus on the things in her bag.
Intending to spend the day hiking and running through the woods, Shizume hadn't wanted to carry much around with her. Her mother had nagged her into bringing a flashlight, and the teachers had insisted that each student bring along a notebook and pen for recording what they saw, so that they could discuss it in class the next day. Aside from these, the bag was empty.
Nervously clipping the bag shut, Shizume tried to remember everything she knew about what to do in an emergency. She recalled alarmingly little.
I'm supposed to stay put, and wait for someone to come find me, right?  Glancing around at the empty, silent forest, Shizume knew she couldn't bear to simply sit there, hoping she'd be remembered. Waiting, with the trees looming at her back, would give her mind time to fill up with worries and think of new fears. She needed to do something, to keep moving. Slinging her bag back up onto her shoulder, she started walking, following the road into the trees.

~~~~

An hour later, Shizume struggled up the steep path, head bent against the rising wind. The trees were taller than ever, their tossing bows dyed red by the setting sun. Her school uniform, with its light fabric and short skirt, had never been intended to withstand the cold of a mountain night, and as her legs grew slowly numb, Shizume was becoming frantic to find some kind of shelter. Worse yet, with every passing minute she became more certain that she was lost.
Shortly after setting out, Shizume had come to a fork in the road. Not remembering the junction from the ride up, she had had no choice but to guess at which way the bus had gone. Yet the further she walked down her chosen path, the wilder it became, with rocks and weeds springing up from the loose dirt as the way grew narrower. The ground had grown steeper, the trees pressing in ever closer. Now as night drew near, she was certain the bus could never have managed this road.
As Shizume crested the top of the rise, the wind abruptly dropped down. Lifting her gaze from the ground, she let out a small gasp at what she saw.
The ground before her was smooth and level, and a wide space had been cleared of trees. Built here was what looked like an old shrine, its slanting, shingled roof speaking of traditional Japanese design. Although it was only one story tall, a tower rose up from the roof, casting a dark shadow across the ground before it. A high wall surrounded the shrine, broken only by a simple Shinto gate. Through the gate Shizume could see the shrine's entrance, and the path of smooth stones that ran from the door to the ground at her feet, seeming to invite her inside. With the sinking sun at its back, the entire building was dyed a strange crimson by the last red light bleeding out of the sun.
For a moment Shizume stayed where she was, fearful of this strange building and its bloody colour. Yet soon she remembered how very cold she was, and looked toward the shrine hopefully. Surely the people there would be willing to let her stay the night, and help her find her way home?
Eager for the sight of another human face, Shizume sprinted forward along the stone path. But as she passed beneath the bright red gate, she slowed, catching sight of the shrine doors. Thick ropes had been strung across them, tightly sealing the wooden doors. Strange, jagged paper shapes, like small white lightning bolts, hung from the ropes. Shizume vaguely remembered a history lesson, years ago, that had said such ropes were considered sacred in olden times, and were used to mark off special places. Yet she had never heard of such ropes being use to tie doors shut.
Cautiously, she drew closer, and a shiver ran down her spine. Beneath the ropes she could see deep cuts in the wooden doors, weathered slash marks that spoke of ancient violence. A deep sense of apprehension filled her, and Shizume found herself wondering if perhaps she should take her chances in the forest, rather than try to enter through these sealed doors. As she wavered on the brink of indecision, a sudden cry broke the silence.
"Help me!"
Shizume jerked back, eyes wide. The voice had been high, a child's undoubtedly, filled with a tone of desperate panic. It was the voice of a cornered animal that looks over its shoulder to see the hunter drawing near.  
The voice had come from inside the shrine.
Shizume stepped forward, resting her hands on the cold wood of the door. A strange buzz hummed beneath her palms where they lay over the ancient slash marks.
"Hello?" she called urgently. "Is there somebody in-"
"Let me out!" the voice came again, the words growing ragged with desperation. "Let me out! She's coming!" The doors shook slightly, and Shizume could hear a faint thumping, the sound of tiny fists hammering against the wood.
Shizume began tugging at the sacred ropes, trying to pull them away from the doors. The ropes were old and rotted, and they tore easily from the pegs that held them in place. As she pulled the last rope out of her way, the pounding stopped. Shizume felt her heart skip a beat; was she too late?
"Hey! Hang on, I've almost got the doors open!" she called. Although she knew it would do no good, she yanked desperately at the doors. Maybe if the wood was as weak and rotted as the ropes she would be able to pull them-
Shizume staggered off balance as the doors swung open. A gust of hot, dry air blew out from the shrine, like an ancient beast exhaling a breathe too long held.
The doors weren't locked? But then why couldn't the child-
Shizume's thoughts trailed off as she took in the room before her. It was a small, round chamber, lit by the flickering light of dozens of candles. Stones shelves of varying height lined the walls, each one packed with a cluster of dancing lights. Hardened streams of blue wax stained the edges of the shelves, and marked out tiny candle-filled niches in the walls. Thick grey smoke swirled about the chamber roof, a blurring miasma that refused to drift away into the cold mountain air. Candles hid most of the floor, anchored in pools of hardened wax, seemingly placed at random. Yet there was a clear space, just barely wide enough for an adult to walk along, running from the doors before Shizume across to the other side of the room. As she stared through the haze of smoke, she caught a glimpse of movement, another set of doors swinging open, a small form hurrying away.
"Wait!" Shizume called after the disappearing figure. "I've got the doors open, you can get out now!"
As she ran across the small room, Shizume didn't hear the doors fall shut behind her.