Oiwa was betrayed in life—and haunted in death. But what if her story is really about the ghosts we carry, and the courage it takes to let them go?

And in that silence, a thought starts to form: Am I the only one who feels this way?

Surely, no one else could possibly understand what it’s like to be trapped in this strange limbo—a place where time moves, yet nothing seems to change. Where even time itself drifts, untethered, unbothered by your presence.

It’s as if you’re being carried down a river with no clear destination, no sense of control—just moving, existing, waiting for something to shift.