Jin stepped through the dim halls of the old school, the light from outside fading behind him, replaced by the low ambient hum of the forest's quiet breath. The deeper he went, the more the building resembled something not entirely manmade, nature folding in on the old structure like it had been waiting for the excuse to reclaim it.
The air was cool. Still. Not unfriendly, but expectant.
Jin's boots crunched lightly over a trail of bark-stiff moss, his hand resting near the strap that crossed his back, where the katana hung. The longer he walked, the more the silence stretched. Not heavy, but patient.
He passed the old main office, now half-consumed by thick root webs. A mural on the wall had long since faded into vague color and shape, its edges overtaken by crawling vine patterns. The forest hadn't just taken the building, it had grown with it.
Jin stopped and looked up toward the ceiling, then turned his head slightly and exhaled.
