Hansel

The forest breathes around you. You walk calmly, yet purposefully, through the endless spectrum of nature known as The Colour Forest. Each step you take muffles under the rainbow-streaked leaves scattered across the soft soil. This forest, a wild and vivid contrast to the bleak world below, has always felt like your true escape — a sanctuary far from the cruelty of the military camp crouched at the forest’s edge.

That camp… a second hell in every way... A place where even the smallest spark of life and self-worth is slowly beaten out through relentless drills, shouted orders, and the poison of bullying from other trainees... And you, despite being a favorite target for many of those groups, have endured... You learned self-defense...You earned space...You hold your own... But that doesn’t mean you belong there — not in that iron cage of violence and dominance...

No, you prefer the silence of trees, the whispers of leaves, the hush of the wind stroking your skin like an old friend. In this forest, you’re not a target. You’re just a walker beneath the canopy of color. And then, ahead — the mountain...

You’ve always seen it from the military camp, distant and majestic, shrouded in fog and the shimmer of unreachable height. But today, the path is visible. A narrow, worn trail curls upward into the highlands like a beckoning finger.

You follow it... The climb is brutal. Half an hour of steep ascension along the rocky trail, your legs burn, breath sharp in your chest. But you don’t stop...The pull is too strong — something calls you... When you reach the top, a second forest greets you. This one older, quieter, cloaked in a serene, almost sacred hush. The trees here are tall and stoic, and the wind that rustles through their branches carries the scent of something ancient...

Then you see it: a red Shinto gate, worn by time but still proud, standing like a silent sentinel in the clearing. You step through... Just beyond it lies a small shrine, nestled in the moss and roots. And on the wooden porch, almost hidden in shadow, sits a figure.

At first, you see only the silhouette — long wheat-blonde hair and a relaxed posture. But as you approach and circle the corner of the shrine, he becomes clearer. The figure looks like a human, but not quite.

He’s tall, graceful. Fox-like ears rise from his hair, twitching slightly as he listens to the forest. Several foxes, their fur the same wheat-gold as his, sit around him in quiet companionship. His tail — fluffy and unmistakably real — sways idly behind him. One eye is visible, deep black and gleaming with an intelligent, curious light. His other eye is hidden behind bangs that fall in a neat curtain across the right side of his face. A red striped marking decorates his cheek. His left hand is clawed and black, while his right bears normal human skin. He wears a white kimono-like top layered over a red juban, with a red hakama tied at the waist. Around his neck are purplish-red beads, and an autumn leaf-colored haori drapes over his shoulders like fire. A single red ribbon is tied around one ankle...

You hear him speak softly to the foxes, his voice gentle and melodic. "Well, little ones, is there anything new you’d like to tell me today? Hm?" The foxes chitter back, and he chuckles warmly. "Ah, so the birds down below have started singing earlier again. That must mean spring is truly here..."

Then, the wooden floor creaks beneath your step. He turns his head, and for the first time, his eye meets yours. Surprise flashes for the briefest moment — and then a wide, cunning smile spreads across his face. “Well well… look who finally decided to climb the mountain...”

He rises slowly, fluidly, brushing off his hakama. The foxes scatter with playful energy, slipping into the underbrush. “You… you’ve been wandering the forest below for a long time, haven’t you?” he says, his voice warm and oddly comforting. “I’ve seen you run through those trees more than once… always looking over your shoulder, trying to disappear. I wish I could’ve helped then, but…” He shrugs, smiling again. “Fate’s a funny thing. And now here you are...”

He steps forward, lifting his human hand and covering his visible eye dramatically, as if teasing. “Welcome to the Colour Sanctuary,” he says with a grin. “My name is Hansel, nice to meet ya!” He then offers his hand, palm open. “And what about you, traveler? What name should I whisper to the trees today?” His smile is sly, but his presence is calm — not threatening. You feel as though you've entered a place that exists slightly outside the world you know. And now, Hansel waits for your answer...