A shiver ran over my arms as yet another wave of cold air hit my skin. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to warm myself up at least slightly, but that did little to nothing. The icy wind still blew over me and the damp forest still seeped away my strength. With all it tossed at me, it seemed as if the mountain had come alive. It certainly tried it hardest to deprive me of the little determination I had left.

While the weather had turned against me, nature itself did its best trying to enchant me with vivid colors. I saw bright yellows, lively oranges and deep reds everywhere I looked. The trees and shrubs looked worthy of being painted over and over again, yet I couldn’t allow myself to stop and marvel at them. Instead, my eyes were glued on the battered roof I had made out only a few minutes ago. It was still mostly hidden in between the tree tops but close enough to give me the courage to continue onwards. I would not be chased away by a few gusts of wind.

It was only two months ago that I had heard about this shrine and the many telltales surrounding its abandonment. Some told of gruesome accidents visitors had while attempting to climb the slopes, others simply pointed out that the shrine was too far off the roads for regular visitors. Regardless of the reasons, the shrine had been left to rot, and had been so for many decades.

Luckily for me there were still traces of a paved path leading up to the shrine and mossy stairs to help me pass the steepest inclines, but that was all. There were no signs nor hand rails that had survived the passage of time and the few brittle remains of wooden posts that could be found every now and then had long since been conquered by moss and fungi. I could only hope for the shrine to be in a better condition.

With a long sigh I continued my way. My legs felt almost too weak to continue by now and I couldn’t help but curse at my lazy former self that didn’t spend its days better than with gaming alone. Despite this, I somehow still found the determination or rather stubbornness to continue on. It wasn’t much further anyway.

When I finally reached the summit the sun was already close to setting. In its reddish light stood a building that was as small as it was shabby. Not only was the roof missing about a third of its black tiles, the wood it rested on looked brittle, too. The left side of the building had even begun to sack, indicating that the shrine wouldn’t be around for much longer.

The remaining walls of the once colorfully painted building weren’t better off either. Everywhere I looked, I could find holes in them, some even as large as a fist or two. The white and red paint had fallen off partly as well and now was lying in heeps on the rotten floor planks.

“It’s so run down…” I couldn’t help but mutter.

Even though the shrine looked like this I couldn’t bring myself to turn around and just leave again, not after fighting half the day to reach this place. I was only a single coin away, nothing much when compared to the work I had put in and the chance of Mira accepting my confession.

That was all the reason I had come here for: love. Not some random non-existing god, a made-up story or freak accidents that happened lifetimes ago. It was all about this one girl.

I had loved her ever since I had moved to her hometown a year ago, but was simply too shy, too weak, too everything as if I ever came close to asking her out. She was out of my league, painfully so, and us being friends didn’t help either. If anything, it made confessing to her even harder to do.

Sure, I wasn’t fat nor ugly, but I wasn’t a hunk either. Dark brown hair, glasses, skinny… if anything, I was average in both my looks, my grades and even my name, Riku. Mira had no reason to lift our relationship to the next level for it to become more than just friendship. In order to at least have a fighting chance I had to step up my game before it was too late!

Reading love guides and books or watching one of the many videos on how to confess your feelings obviously did not fix my insecurity. They only showed me how to do it anyway, which could be described in thousands of words or many hours of video material - or in three words instead: just do it.

At the end of all of this, I stood here, at the ruins of a shrine I had used most of the day to reach, despite not believing in gods at all. Why? It’s because I knew that after doing all of this confessing would be a small deal in comparison. I had made my way here, facing both the cold and ignoring the protests of my aching legs and feet, so what was uttering a few words? It was nothing!

It wasn’t about the gods or silly rumors, it was about setting a symbol for myself. I would leave my offering at this shrine, together with a somewhat honest prayer, and would leave again. That way I would always be able to think back to the little coin I had brought here after facing this whole ordeal.

Not hesitating any longer, I fished the coin I had selected out of my bag. It was the most pristine and shiny one I owned - I had even cleaned it thoroughly!

I took a few steps towards the shrine and… froze, as there was no offering box to be found, not even a vase - or any other container for that matter.

Reluctantly I placed the coin on one of the stair slats that looked slightly less weathered than the others and directly into the dying sunlight which made it glow as if it was red hot. It was perfect…

Contrary to the offering box, the prayer bell had been left exactly where it should be. Its rope had collected some moss and the bell itself was more rust than metal, but at least it was still there.

Somewhat satisfied, I pulled on the rope, only to be rewarded by two dull sounds. It was as I had expected. The bell was far too old and rusty to bring forth the beautiful ring it undoubtedly had in the past.

Slightly discouraged by this failure, I pulled again, harder this time.

“Why won’t you ring?!” I complained, to no avail.

I pulled a third time, this time using not only one hand to pull at the rope, but both of them at the same time. The bell gave in immediately. It was created to look and sound beautiful, not to be sturdy and forgiving, so when it received this last attack of mine, it just came down, broken off from the hook that had held it in place for decades.

The bell crashed onto the ground next to me, before shattering into dozens of pieces. This one time I heard it ring, both equally beautiful and terrifying at once. And at the same time there was a sharp pain, followed by the feeling of wetness running down my legs. A metal shard had embedded itself deep into my flesh. Blinded by the pain I hit a nearby pillar, while cursing out loud.

“DAMN IT!”

My weak attack proved to be too much for the weathered shrine to handle. There was a loud rumble, then hell broke loose. Wood and Stone began falling down, parts of rusty iron and even tiles. I cried out in shock but my legs wouldn’t move. They didn't allow me to at least react to the large wooden bar that was making its way down the roof and towards me. I was doomed.