Chapter 1: The Artisan's Gift
In a dusty corner of the city sat a small, weathered shoe repair shop named "Old Memories." Its owner, Rahmat Ali, was an elderly man whom most people saw as just a simple cobbler. However, Rahmat possessed a secret gift. Whenever he held a pair of worn-out shoes, the scuffs on the soles and the creases in the leather told him a story. He could sense how far the person had walked, the sorrows they carried, and even where their future was leading them.
Rahmat Ali firmly believed one thing: a person's footprints never lie.
One gloomy afternoon, as dark clouds gathered overhead, Rahmat was stitching a pair of old leather boots. Suddenly, a shadow fell across the doorway. A young man in a deep blue raincoat stepped inside, holding a pair of peculiar black shoes. They looked almost brand new, but as soon as Rahmat took them in his hands, his heart skipped a beat.
He closed his eyes, running his fingers over the smooth leather. Usually, the touch of a shoe brought flashes of a person's past or glimpses of their future. But today, there was only darkness. This shoe had no history, and its owner's future was invisible—as if this person didn't belong to this world, or had completely erased their own existence.
Rahmat slid his spectacles down his nose and looked up at the young man. the stranger's face was completely expressionless.
"Son, these shoes are new. There isn't a single scratch on them," Rahmat said, his voice trembling slightly. "Why have you brought them to me?"
The young man gave a faint, mysterious smile. "I didn't come to get them fixed, Uncle. I came to ask—where is my destination? You can see everything, can't you?"
Rahmat Ali realized that his lifelong gift was about to face its greatest mystery.