In a quiet town nestled between misty hills, a boy named Haru found an old paper lantern drifting along the riverbank. Its faded red paint carried the mark of a forgotten festival, and inside was a folded note: “Light me when you are lost.”
That night, when the moon hid behind clouds and the streets seemed endless, Haru lit the lantern. To his surprise, it floated ahead of him, glowing brighter with each step. He followed it through winding alleys until it stopped at a small bridge where an elderly woman sat, waiting.
She smiled, holding a lantern of her own. “I once followed this light too,” she said. “It always leads us to someone who needs us.”
From then on, Haru carried the lantern not just for himself, but for others who wandered in the dark. The river never stopped bringing lost souls, and the lantern never failed to guide them home.
