They met in a clearing so peaceful it seemed unreal.

Nika was sitting in the grass, weaving wreaths of tiny white flowers. When she looked up, she saw a boy standing nearby—as if he didn't want to get too close. He was wearing a strange, semi-traditional kimono, and his blue eyes were beautiful… and unsettling. The pupils were elongated, almost snake-like.

"Can I… look?" he asked quietly.

"Sure," she replied, surprised by his politeness. "Want to try?"

She handed him a few flowers. His fingers were colder than they should have been, but gentle. She was teaching him how to weave the stems, laughing when he got it crooked.

"I'm doing it wrong," he murmured.

"No, it's just too stiff. You have to be calm," she said gently.

He looked at her then as if that single word meant so much to him.

She shared a cottage cheese roll with juice with him. He ate slowly, as if the taste were something new.

"You're... strange," she admitted with a smile. "But nice."

"That's good," he replied. "I'd rather be nice."

He hesitated, then asked, "Do you know what Yo-kai are?"

He began to talk about magical beings: spirits, guardians, monsters, and protectors. About those who fight with honor and those who change shape. He spoke with passion, but also with a hint of sadness.

"And you? Who are you?" Nika finally asked.

He didn't answer.

He just smiled faintly, stood up... and walked into the forest. He disappeared as if he'd never been there.

--

That evening, Lord Ananta couldn't sit still. He paced the room, his furry, gray-blue boa slipping from his shoulder. His butler, an old Yo-kai with a calm voice, watched him carefully.

"Your Highness, you walk like a man in love," he observed.

"Silence," Ananta growled. "I can't… stop thinking."

He opened the wardrobe of talismans. Each one had a drawing of a different Yo-kai.

"He's human," he said quietly. "And I… a han'yō. Neither here nor there, I'm half human, half Yo-kai."

"And yet your heart has already chosen," the butler replied. "You only suffer by fleeing."

Nika suddenly appeared in an unfamiliar room.

A rich interior. Silks. The scent of incense. Before her stood he—Ananta—holding a bouquet of wildflowers. He looked… awkward. His blush betrayed his nerves.

"I apologize for the suddenness," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Where am I…?" she began.

"This is my world." He took a breath. "Nika… I've fallen in love with you."

She fell silent.

"I'm not asking for much," he added hastily. "Stay with me. Even as a friend. Be there."

Nika lowered her gaze.

"You're kind," she said sincerely. "But we're from different worlds. I don't belong here."

Something inside him snapped.

The door slammed shut. The windows closed with a bang. The air thickened as if before a storm.

"No… you can't leave," he whispered, a red glint appearing in his eyes.

He turned abruptly and headed down the corridor. Nika, alarmed, followed him.

They entered a vast hall.

The walls were filled with keys.

Hundreds. Thousands.

Each key had a different shape, a different metal, a different symbol. On the handles were drawings, runes, miniature images of creatures.

"This is my collection," Ananta said, his voice hardening.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered. "But I can't bear it if you leave."

He hesitated.

The key jingled softly in his hand.

"I'll… I'll think about it," he added, as if more to himself than to her. "Give me a moment. Don't make me choose for both of us."

He turned to her. His eyes now had distinct red rims around their pupils.

"Any one of them could make you stay," he said quietly. "Make you think it's right. Make you love me as I love you."