Whispers In The Moonlight

The name Kim Sang-woo lingered in my mind, refusing to be forgotten. There was something about it—something familiar yet elusive. It felt like the key to unraveling the mystery that had been woven around the journal and the secrets it held.

After school the next day, Hye-jin, Min-jun, and I gathered at her house, spreading the contents of the chest across her desk. The map was aged and brittle, its edges curling, but the landmarks were still clear.

Hye-jin tapped her finger on the map. "This looks like the area near the old cherry blossom grove. Isn't that land abandoned now?"

Min-jun nodded. "It is. No one goes there anymore—it's considered haunted."

"Haunted?" I asked, a nervous laugh escaping me. "You're kidding, right?"

Hye-jin shrugged. "It's just a rumor. But it would explain why no one's explored it in years."

---

Later that evening, I sat cross-legged on my bed, flipping through the journal again. The handwriting was elegant but slightly rushed in places, as if the author had been in a hurry to record their thoughts.

I paused on a page filled with a sketch of a cherry blossom tree. Beneath it, the words "The grove holds the truth" were written in bold strokes.

The grove.

It had to be connected.

---

The next day, Min-jun and I decided to visit the grove. The air was crisp, and the trees were bare, their branches stretching toward the sky like skeletal hands. The path leading to the grove was overgrown, but we managed to navigate it, pushing aside thorny vines and stepping over fallen branches.

When we reached the grove, I gasped. Even in its desolation, it was beautiful. The ground was covered in a blanket of dried leaves, and the trees formed a canopy overhead, their gnarled branches intertwined.

In the center of the grove stood a single cherry blossom tree, its bark smooth and unblemished despite the years.

"This must be it," Min-jun said, walking toward the tree.

As we circled the tree, Min-jun pointed to a small metal plaque embedded in the trunk. The words engraved on it read: Kim Sang-woo – Keeper of Secrets.

"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Min-jun ran his fingers over the plaque. "I don't know, but it seems like he was important—like he knew something no one else did."

---

We returned to Hye-jin's house, eager to share what we'd found. She was sitting at her desk, her laptop open, a determined look on her face.

"I did some digging," she said as we walked in. "Kim Sang-woo was a historian and a professor at our university about fifty years ago. He specialized in local legends and folklore."

"Why would a historian hide a journal in a clock tower?" I asked, sinking into a chair.

"Maybe he found something—something he wasn't supposed to," Hye-jin said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Min-jun leaned over her shoulder, studying the screen. "It says here that he disappeared under mysterious circumstances. No one ever found out what happened to him."

A chill ran down my spine. "What if... what if he knew too much?"

Hye-jin's eyes met mine. "That's what we need to find out."

---

Dear Diary,

The mystery keeps getting deeper. Today, Min-jun and I found a plaque in the old cherry blossom grove with Kim Sang-woo's name on it.

Hye-jin discovered that he was a historian who studied local legends—and that he disappeared without a trace.

Who was he really? And what was he trying to uncover?

I don't know what's waiting for us, but I'm starting to think this journal is more than just a relic of the past. It's a doorway to something bigger—something that could change everything.

Love,

Eun-ji