Young adult fiction continues to be a vital medium for exploring the complexities of the human experience, often tackling subject matter that other genres might avoid. From navigating identity and mental health to confronting religious trauma and loss, these stories provide a necessary space for readers to process profound emotional challenges. Kelly Murashige, whose debut novel The Lost Souls of Benzaiten earned critical acclaim for its fantastical exploration of trauma, is set to return with a sophomore effort that promises to be equally resonant.
A New Exploration of Grief and Healing
Murashige’s upcoming novel, The Yomigaeri Tunnel, shifts its focus toward the heavy themes of death and the enduring weight of loss. Described as a heartfelt contemporary fantasy, the story follows a teenager on a magical journey to resurrect a childhood friend. For readers who appreciate the emotional depth of authors like Dustin Thao and Ann Liang, this speculative coming-of-age tale offers a poignant look at hope and the possibility of healing in the wake of tragedy.
The Legend of the Yomigaeri Tunnel
The narrative centers on Monika, a student unable to move forward as she grieves the loss of her classmate, Shun. Her journey begins when she learns of a local urban legend during a Japanese Club meeting—a mythological passageway known as the Yomigaeri Tunnel. The legend suggests that those who survive its harrowing trials can bring one soul back from the dead.
Monika can’t bring herself to celebrate her last summer before college. Instead, she’s still grieving the loss of the one classmate who didn’t make it to graduation, a boy named Shun with whom she had a complicated relationship.
Then, during her final Japanese Club meeting, Monika hears about the Yomigaeri Tunnel, a local urban legend. Those who venture into this mythological passageway undergo harrowing trials to confront their hidden secrets and worst fears. According to the lore, anyone who makes it through the journey is rewarded with the ability to resurrect one soul from the dead.
Monika jumps at the chance to bring back Shun, but she soon discovers she’s not alone. Sharp-tongued and fierce Shiori is hell-bent on reviving her mother and won’t let anyone stop her. As Monika and Shiori confront the ghosts of their pasts, they have to decide: Are they friends, or foes?
Exclusive Cover Reveal
While The Yomigaeri Tunnel is scheduled for release on July 1, 2025, we are pleased to share an exclusive first look at the novel’s haunting cover, illustrated by Yuta Onoda. The artwork captures the ethereal and mysterious atmosphere that defines Monika’s journey into the unknown.
Cover illustrator: Yuta Onoda
An Exclusive Excerpt from The Yomigaeri Tunnel
“HOLY CRAP,” Shiori says, those three syllables bouncing off walls we can’t see and knocking back into us.
“Don’t let go,” I say, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to hear the shake in my voice. If it weren’t for Shiori’s fingers, still clamped around my wrist, I would be lost entirely.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She shakes my arm, presumably flinging her other arm out in her frustration, though I obviously can’t see or appreciate the dramatic gesture. “Oh my God. It can’t be this dark all the way through, can it?”
When I swallow, I’m pretty sure it echoes. “Do you think we can use flashlights? Or would that be breaking some kind of rule?”
“What rule?” I can hear her rummaging around in her jacket pockets. “Common sense?”
“Wait,” I say, tugging on her sleeve. “I’m serious. What if we’re not supposed to use a light? Maybe this is part of the test. It’s a test, right?”
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Or a great way to end up faceplanting and knocking ourselves unconscious before the ‘test’ can even begin.”
“Yeah, but—”
That’s when the entire world falls away.
A scream builds in my chest but never manages to leave my throat. The darkness yanks at my clothes and whispers along my neck, pulling me down. I don’t know if I accidentally shake Shiori off or if she releases me in her panic, but even as I try to swipe for her, I feel nothing.
So this is how I die. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Or, well, I guess I can. I can’t see much of anything. Ha, ha. But I knew this was a possibility. I can’t be that upset about it. More than anything, I’m glad I was able to say goodbye. Not everyone gets that privilege.
I’m just about to give in and let go when I hit something solid. The pain takes my breath away, little shockwaves spitting out of my shoulder and leaving me stunned. It takes me a few seconds to recover from the impact, and when I sit up, I find myself alone in the dimness.
“Shiori?” I call out. The effort makes my ribs throb. “Where are you?”
No answer.
I’m not surprised. That would be too easy.
“Okay,” I say to myself. I glance over my shoulder, but there’s no light coming from that way. It seems I’m supposed to continue forward.
I take a small step, the sound of my boot against the gritty tunnel floor reverberating around me. I stretch out a hand and study my palm. Tiny black crystalline particles coat my skin. Rubbing my fingers together, I take a breath and keep walking. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, but I guess that’s a good thing. At least I’m still alive.
At the sight of something in the distance, I slow to a stop. I squint, trying to make it out, but the dusty light of the tunnel obscures it.
I reach for my phone. Maybe I can use the flashlight, or at least text Thea to say I’m pretty sure I’m losing my mind.
My fingers have just brushed my denim pocket when a light explodes in the center of my vision. I try to raise a hand to shield my eyes, but my arms are so heavy, I can’t even lift a finger. My entire body seems to be collapsing in on itself.
If this is what people describe as an LSD-like trip, I’m glad I never touched drugs. There’s nothing fun about this.
That’s not what my uncle said, a tiny voice says. I think it’s in my head at first, but as silence falls around me, I realize it came from somewhere too far ahead for me to see.
I blink hard as the light around me fades. The first thing I see is a set of stairs beneath my sandals. And they’re moving.
I try to whirl around to see if Shiori’s crouching behind me, just as she was at the beginning of the tunnel, but I can’t seem to turn. I can only face forward.
Dropping my head, I study my legs. My kneecaps are the size of my regular elbows. My sandals, which I remember having for years when I was a child, aren’t even as big as my normal hands.
I’m an elementary school kid again.
What’s not what your uncle said? someone says.
I look up. At the top of the stairs, a few girls lean on the railing, their neon-colored shirts bright even in my hazy memories. I recognize them, but they look so strange, almost alien, their faces squished and their bodies like sticks.
He said, one girl continues, it’s supposed’ta rain tomorrow. For, like, a lot of days.
How many? another girl asks.
I try to raise my hands to cover my ears, partly to test if I can move and partly because their voices are freakishly high, like they’ve been huffing helium. But I still can’t get my arms to do anything.
Then I’m falling again.
For a second, I’m weightless. Floating. My eyes take in everything around me: the gray cement steps; the dark metal railing smelling of coins and hands; the rock wall to my left; the cafeteria at the top of the stairs; and, all around me, hungry children on their way to lunch.
I remember this now. In the days to come, it will rain, for forty days and nights. Our parents will send us to school in rainboots and ponchos, umbrellas tucked under our arms and lunches wrapped in plastic to keep out the moisture. In the evening, it will storm hard enough to shake the buildings and wipe out electricity grids. At one point, I will say, Maybe the torrential rain will just wash us all away. I will secretly hope it will, because in my child mind, getting swept down a river of stormwater, floating in the inner canopy of an umbrella, is like something out of a cartoon. I will enjoy the rain, for the most part, but water will keep soaking my socks, leaving my toes shriveled like umeboshi.
Right now, though, I don’t know any of that. All I know is how it feels to fall.
My knee hits the steps, splitting my skin. A sharp pain explodes in my bones as my elbows scrape against the cement.
Oh my God, someone says from behind me. Are you okay?
My cheeks are burning even worse than my elbows. I’m fine. Thank you.
Somewhere behind me, someone is laughing. I instinctively try to pivot, even though I know I couldn’t a few seconds earlier.
I can now, though, my body twisting until my eyes land on a boy with short, dark, spiky hair. He stands at the base of the staircase, his eyes sparkling as he laughs. After a second, his friends join in. One even points at me, as if they all need a reminder: There she is. The target of our mockery.
My eyes flick back to the guy who first started laughing. The one with hair like a Chia Pet.
My skin is still prickling, both from embarrassment and from my fall in the stairwell. I want to shout, IT’S NOT FUNNY, but I can’t make myself speak.
With the boy’s laughter ringing in my ears, I turn back around and continue up the stairs, clinging to the railing like a ninety-year-old lady.
This is the first time I ever see Shun.
Excerpt from The Yomigaeri Tunnel by Kelly Murashige, forthcoming from Soho Teen in 2025
The Yomigaeri Tunnel will be released on July 1, 2025.
