The train slowly stopped in front of us.
Its doors opened automatically.
Blue light spilled onto the platform.
I looked at it quietly.
"...We're taking this train?"
"Yes."
"...I really hoped you were going to say no."
"You knew the answer already."
"...Fair."
I stood up slowly.
Then something occurred to me.
I looked at the train.
Then at Ken.
Then back at the train.
"...Wait."
"Hm?"
"...Aren't you the conductor?"
"I am."
"...Then who's driving the train?"
For the first time—
Ken actually paused.
"...Good question." It travels by it's own but i can also control the train as well.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Come on."
Without another word, he stepped inside.
I followed reluctantly.
The moment I entered—
the atmosphere changed.
Rows of seats stretched across the carriage.
Shadowy figures sat quietly throughout the train.
Spirits.
Some looked human.
Some looked nothing like humans.
None of them spoke.
None of them even looked at us.
The entire train felt frozen in time.
I swallowed nervously.
Even after everything—
being surrounded by spirits still felt strange.
Ken continued walking calmly through the carriage.
Like he had done this thousands of times before.
Which he probably had.
Then he stopped near a pair of empty seats.
"Sit."
I sat down immediately.
The train doors closed.
Silence filled the carriage.
Then slowly—
the train began moving.
The station disappeared behind us.
The city lights faded into the distance.
I leaned toward the window.
At first, everything looked normal.
Then—
the scenery outside changed.
The buildings disappeared.
The roads disappeared.
Even the stars seemed different.
My eyes widened.
"...Ken."
"Hm?"
"... Everything is covered with fog I can't see anything outside..I am sacred..
You don't have to worry I am there with you right?
Hmm....
Ken can I ask somthing ?...
Yes?...
Why is the little boy smiling?? while looking out of the window when there is nothing visible...
Ken sat near me and said he was having two months to live before his death...
"W-What...?"
My eyes immediately moved back toward the little boy.
He couldn't have been older than eight or nine.
He sat quietly by the window.
Smiling.
Not a sad smile.
Not a forced smile.
A genuine one.
Like he was looking forward to something.
"But..."
I looked at Ken.
"If he knew he was going to die... then why is he smiling?"
Ken remained silent for a few moments.
The train continued moving through the endless fog outside.
Then he finally spoke.
"Because he accepted it."
"...Accepted it?"
Ken nodded.
"The boy suffered from an illness for most of his life."
I looked back at the child.
He looked so normal.
So alive.
"Two months before his death," Ken continued, "the doctors told him there was nothing more they could do."
The smile slowly disappeared from my face.
"...That's cruel."
"Yes."
The answer came immediately.
No hesitation.
No attempt to make it sound better.
Just the truth.
I stared at the boy again.
"...Then why isn't he angry?"
Ken looked toward the window.
"Not everyone reacts to pain the same way."
The fog outside shifted slightly.
For a brief moment, strange lights appeared beyond the glass.
Like distant stars floating in the darkness.
Then they disappeared again.
"The boy spent those final months doing everything he wanted."
Ken's voice remained calm.
"He played with his friends."
"He traveled."
"He ate foods he always wanted to try."
"He spent time with his family."
I listened quietly.
"He cried."
"He laughed."
"He was afraid."
"But in the end..."
Ken looked at the boy.
"...he accepted that his time was limited."
Silence filled the carriage.
The little boy continued smiling toward the window.
Completely unaware of our conversation.
Or perhaps—
he already knew.
"...That's still sad."
"It is."
"...Then why does he look happier than most people I know?"
For the first time—
a faint smile appeared on Ken's face.
"Because he understood something many people never do."
"...What?"
Ken leaned back against his seat.
"That life is valuable because it ends."
The train suddenly grew quieter.
Even the spirits around us seemed motionless.
I looked down.
Thinking about those words.
Life is valuable because it ends.
Somehow—
that sounded unfair.
Yet strangely true.
Then my eyes moved toward another passenger.
An old man.
He sat alone near the end of the carriage.
Holding a small wooden box carefully in both hands.
"...What about him?"
Ken followed my gaze.
"The old man?"
"Yeah."
"He waited seventeen years."
"...For what?"
"For his son."
I frowned.
Ken continued.
"His son moved overseas for work."
"They argued before he left."
"Neither of them apologized."
The old man remained silent, staring at the box.
"He died before they could meet again."
A chill ran through me.
"...That's horrible."
"Yes."
"The box?"
"Letters."
"...Letters?"
"He wrote one every month."
My chest tightened slightly.
"But never got the chance to give them away."
The train whistle echoed softly through the fog.
For the first time—
I stopped seeing monsters.
I stopped seeing spirits.
I stopped seeing ghosts.
Instead—
I saw people.
People carrying regrets.
Dreams.
Memories.
Lives.
Then suddenly—
the little boy turned around.
Our eyes met.
For a brief moment—
his smile widened.
Then he waved at me.
A small, cheerful wave.
Like any normal child.
I froze.
Slowly—
I waved back.
The boy laughed softly.
Then turned back toward the window.
Watching the endless fog outside.
Watching whatever only he could see.
And for some reason—
my fear of the train became a little smaller.
The train continued moving through the endless sea of fog.
For a while—
neither of us spoke.
The rhythmic sound of the tracks echoed softly beneath the carriage.
The little boy still sat by the window.
Smiling.
The old man still held his wooden box.
And the countless spirits around us remained silent.
Each carrying a story I would probably never know.
I rested my head against the seat.
"...Ken."
"Hm?"
"How many spirits have you carried on this train?"
A small silence followed.
"Too many to count."
"...Thousands?"
"More."
My eyes widened slightly.
"...Millions?"
Ken looked out the window.
"Perhaps."
For some reason—
that answer felt lonely.
I stared at him.
"...You've been doing this for a long time, haven't you?"
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"A little."
"A little?"
"You would call it a long time."
"...That's not reassuring."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
I sighed.
Typical Ken.
Then suddenly—
the train whistle echoed.
The little boy stood up from his seat.
My eyes followed him.
He looked out the window one last time before turning toward us.
His smile hadn't changed.
Not even a little.
"Looks like this is my stop."
I blinked.
"...Your stop?"
The boy nodded.
The train slowly began slowing down.
Outside—
a soft golden light appeared within the fog.
There was no station.
No platform.
Nothing.
Just light.
Warm.
Peaceful.
Beautiful.
The spirits inside the train remained completely calm.
As if this happened every day.
The train finally stopped.
The doors opened automatically.
Golden light poured into the carriage.
I couldn't even see what was beyond it.
The boy looked toward Ken.
"Thank you."
Ken gave a small nod.
The boy then turned toward me.
His smile widened slightly.
"Thank you for waving back."
My eyes widened.
For a moment—
I didn't know what to say.
Then I smiled.
"...You're welcome."
The boy laughed softly.
Then he walked toward the open doors.
One step.
Two steps.
Three.
Before leaving—
he looked back one final time.
"Don't be afraid."
Then he stepped into the light.
The moment he did—
his body began breaking apart into countless glowing particles.
Like stars drifting into the sky.
Within seconds—
he disappeared completely.
Gone.
The golden light slowly faded.
The doors closed.
And the train began moving once again.
Silence filled the carriage.
I stared at the place where the boy had vanished.
"...Did he..."
"Yes."
Ken's voice remained calm.
"He reached his destination."
I slowly lowered my head.
For some reason—
instead of feeling sad—
I felt relieved.
The train continued forward.
Further into the endless fog.
Minutes passed.
Then suddenly—
the scenery outside began changing.
The white fog started thinning.
Dark silhouettes appeared beyond the glass.
Mountains.
Forests.
Rivers.
My eyes widened.
"...Ken."
"Hm?"
"...I can finally see outside."
Ken looked toward the window.
For the first time since boarding the train—
a strange expression appeared on his face.
Not sadness.
Not happiness.
Something deeper.
Something nostalgic.
The train moved past endless forests.
Lantern lights glowed in the darkness.
Wooden houses stood beside narrow roads.
There were no cars.
No electric lights.
No modern buildings.
Nothing.
My heart started beating faster.
"...Where are we?"
Ken remained silent for a moment.
The passing scenery reflected in his eyes.
Then finally—
he answered.
"Five hundred years ago."
Silence.
"...What?"
"We have arrived."
My brain completely stopped working.
"...WHAT?!"
Ken stood up calmly.
Ignoring my crisis entirely.
The train whistle echoed through the night.
Outside—
an ancient station slowly came into view.
And for the first time—
I realized that everything I knew about the world was about to change.
Because our destination...
was Ancient Japan.