Moru and the Garden of Waiting Stars

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Emma pressed her nose against the cold window of their new house, watching raindrops race down the glass. Her younger brother Leo sat beside her, drumming his fingers impatiently on the windowsill. "I wish something would happen," he sighed. "This place is so boring." The old countryside house creaked gently around them, as if it were settling in for a long nap. Outside, their backyard stretched toward a dense forest, everything gray and still under the autumn rain. Emma noticed how the trees seemed to lean toward their house, branches reaching like gentle hands. "Maybe tomorrow will be different," she whispered, though she wasn't sure she believed it herself.

That night, Emma couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about how empty everything felt - no friends nearby, no familiar places, just this creaky house and the whispering forest. She slipped out of bed and padded to the window. The rain had stopped, and moonlight painted everything silver. Then she saw it - a soft, golden glow pulsing between the trees, like a heartbeat made of light. But this wasn't something far away to chase after. Instead, the glow was moving steadily toward their house, growing warmer and brighter with each pulse. Emma's breath fogged the window as she watched, transfixed. Whatever it was, it was coming to them.