"You think you die alone, but that's not true. Nobody is alone in this world."

- Azusa Hayano (Geologist)

The old photos made her conscious of her age, and of how much time had passed since Asako had left her life. With one last glance, she tucked them into her backpack and stepped out of the car.

The morning was quiet, and a light breeze whispering through the sea of trees as she started down the path. The birds sang softly, their songs accompanying the rays of light that danced through the leaves of countless trees. There were few people around, for which she was thankful. It wasn't far before she saw the faded blue ribbon. Carefully, she stepped over the rope and picked her way away into the forest, ignoring the sign warning against it.

The ribbon led her away from the path, and the forest fell into silence. The ground grew uneven, and she turned her eyes away from the trees to the tangled roots and moss below. There were a few other ribbons, ropes and tapes around, though she did not want to follow them. She already knew what she would find at the end of those.

Her breath softened as reached the ribbon's end. A picture frame lay toppled within a bed of blue flowers, their petals striking against the forest's green hue. She picked up the picture frame and set it on the ground; she would deal with that later. The flowers she planted were thriving, despite not being native to the area. Setting her backpack down, she began to brush away the leaves threatening to overtake the delicate blossoms.

A twig snaps and she turns to find a man behind her. He looks to be within his mid-thirties and seems terrified to have stumbled upon another person. He has no belongings with him, save a small bag.

"Hello."

She keeps her voice soft, but the man steps back.

"H-hello."

"Don't be afraid," she smiles slightly, though she knows why he is here. "Would you like to sit down?"

He shakes his head, waiting to escape back into the forest, but his mind changes when her expression falls. She pats the ground beside her, arranging her skirt to accommodate a secondary presence in the small clearing.

"Come, talk to me. How are you?"

He sits, still nervous, eyes flicking away from her gaze.

"Fine."

"Are you sure?" she asks, but doesn't pry when he quickly nods. "I am a bit sad myself."

He looks over, curious as to why she of all people could possibly be sad. She hands him the picture frame.

"My sister, Asako, died here five years ago. I come back every year to change the photo and make sure the flowers I planted are still alive. They were her favorite, Hepaticas."

The man turns his eyes towards the photograph inside, a molding photo of her and a girl like her, no doubt her sister. Both are smiling at the camera, not a care in the world. He hands the picture frame back to her, and she takes the old photos out of her backpack.

"She seemed so happy."

She holds two out for the man to see; one of her and Asako in their elementary school uniforms, and the other of them at the beach.

"I can't decide. Which one do you think I leave this year?"

He glances at them, then points to the photo on the left. She nods, replacing the moldy photograph with the new one. The silence settles before she decides to speak.

"I won't tell you not to do it. That is your choice, and yours alone. But, in case this may help, let me tell you that even when you feel alone, when you feel like you are a lost soul in this world, there is always someone who loves you, even if you don't know it yet."

He looks at her. She holds the picture frame in her hands, eyes roaming over the photograph inside as if trying to recall that more joyous time. The silence descends as she places the picture frame next to the Hepaticas. Then she stands, smoothing out her skirt and picking up her backpack.

"I'll be here for another hour, I still have places to visit. If you change your mind, my car is the silver Toyota in the parking lot."

xx

An hour had passed, but she had not seen him. She stands next to her car, heartbroken for someone she does not know. She wishes she could have done more, said more, but she knows that battles of the mind are the hardest to fight. The clock on the dashboard of her car ticks off another minute.

Slowly, she sinks into the driver's seat and starts the engine on her car. She could not save him. Closing her eyes, she leans her head back, feeling the headrest press against her hair, and takes a deep breath before opening her eyes, only to be met with a figure reappearing from the forest. Her breath catches as she throws open the door to see the man from before looking around. He spots her, and meets her at her car as she twists her hands nervously, holding back the tears that threaten to spill over.

"Hello again."

Her voice cracks.

"What is your name, miss?"

"Kyoko..."

The man holds out his hand. She takes it, and he places his other hand on top of hers.

"Thank you, Kyoko."

She smiles, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"Of course."

xx

(A/N: Inspired by the Vice documentary on Aokigahara forest, this short story ) is dedicated to all those who have taken their lives, or who have attempted or contemplated doing so, in Aokigahara. May their souls find the peace that eluded them on Earth, and may those who survived know how much they are loved.)

{Please enjoy "Before My Time," the Oscar nominated song from the remarkable film Chasing Ice which I based the feeling of this short story upon.}

https://youtu.be/q-5HXc3Bb4Q