The old temple rose like a scar in the forest
Faded red pillars cracked from time
Roof caved in at the center
Stone statues lining the path leading up—headless
Their prayers stolen
Shigure stood before the gate with bare feet and dirt on his palms
The bread still untouched in his pouch
Carried like a talisman
There were no guards
No monks
No incense
Just wind pushing at his back
As if urging him to enter
He stepped inside
The floor was broken in patches
Rotted planks creaked beneath him
But the walls still held memories
He could hear them
Not words
But breaths
Whispers trapped between cracked murals and prayer scrolls long forgotten
He passed under a collapsed archway
Into the main hall
At the center was a single statue
A towering figure with arms stretched to the heavens
No eyes
No mouth
Its stone face smooth as if scrubbed clean of identity
Shigure stared at it
And the silence screamed back
This place had once been holy
People had come here to pray
To cry
To believe
Now it was only dust and quiet disappointment
He approached the altar
Laid the piece of bread on it
It looked wrong there
Like kindness offered to something incapable of receiving it
He spoke
Not to the statue
But to himself
"I used to think if I suffered enough the gods would notice"
He chuckled once
Dry
Bitter
"They didn't"
The wind passed through a hole in the wall
And for a moment
He imagined it sounded like a sigh
He turned to leave
But the ground shook
A low hum
Not physical
Not from the earth
But from inside
He turned slowly
The statue's chest
A faint glow
He stepped closer
Hand out
It pulsed
Once
Then stopped
The light died
Whatever it was
It was gone
No answers
No salvation
Just a reminder that something once listened here
Now even silence had moved on
He left the temple without looking back
Not because he feared it
But because he understood it
There were no gods left in this world
Only people
And pain
And quiet places where prayers used to live