Lady Thread's Leap

Meanwhile, in This Dimension…

Fire returns to an abandoned theme park, a place once filled with energy and laughter. The layout is unchanged, but the park feels empty, stripped of the life it once knew. Most of the attractions have been dismantled and sold for scrap, leaving only rusting remains. Nature, uninvited, has begun to reclaim the area, creeping over decaying rides and structures.

As he wanders through the silence, Fire encounters a girl. Like him, she seems drawn to the park for reasons they can barely explain. He doesn’t remember her, but she insists she remembers him. She wears a Japanese sailor school uniform, and her long braid swings behind her as she moves. Together, they spend the day exploring the desolate attractions, lost in the haze of forgotten memories.

At sunset, they stop at a bridge tangled in vines. She climbs up, balancing on the railing.

“Hey, get down! That’s dangerous!” Fire calls out, concern edging his voice.

“What? This?” she grins, then effortlessly does a cartwheel over the railings.

“Please, can you get down? You’re making me nervous!” he insists.

She laughs, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Give me your finger!”

“Huh?” Fire asks, confused.

Without a word, she kneels and takes his hand, pretending to tie a knot on his index finger. “You really don’t remember, do you?” she teases, her smile playful and knowing.

Leaning close, she whispers in his ear, “I… am… you.” Straightening up, she gazes out at the sunset. “Life is one long thread of thought.”

Then, with a mischievous grin, she says, “I have to go now. See you soon!” In a fluid, acrobatic move, she leaps backward off the bridge.

Fire’s hand lingers in the air where hers had been. His chest tightens as he watches her disappear into the void. He lunges forward, arm outstretched—

But there’s nothing. No splash. Just the rush of wind past him, carrying her final words into the emptiness.