wanderer's moon | kaedehara kazuha

04 | dreams of a future

Nara was supposed to go home. The plan for the evening was to buy groceries in the city, cook some food for herself and rest for the night (if there was something to rest for anyway). She had that in mind, but her legs brought her here instead—the shores north of Konda Village. The landscape in front of her consists of a part of Ritou to her left, and a foggy glimpse of Jinren Island in the distance. However, that was not what Nara pictured in her mind. At least, not what she wished to see.

Instead, her dreamy eyes glazed across the sea that stretched the ocean, reaching the edge of the world, the shores of another nation and the oblivion. Within those waters was a glorious cloak of stars and its constellations, each distant sun connecting one after another with no end, forming divine bonds which many find complicated to pronounce. Many constellations were rather difficult to define and comprehend as an amateur, but approach a mage or an astrologist, they might offer you knowledge as valuable as uncharted secrets.

A quiet chuckle, then a sigh, leaves her lips, distant eyes looking up at the night sky before they slowly flicker over to the moon high in the oblivion, its moonlight shining down on her as if it was acknowledging her.

What makes home...a home?

Nara knows home is made up of what the heart feels—solace, tranquillity, and security. But is it just all...that? Because she knew the answer was wrong for many reasons, especially when the night rises as fast as the sun blinks into non-existence.

When the world goes dark, Nara's vision becomes clear like a wild animal with sharp senses. As if the absence of summer crickets that ceased when sunset is nearing, raised the hairs all over her skin. She becomes aware of the stillness that exists in the night skies and seas, rising with the moon.

And yet, even when the world was silent on the darkest nights, her thoughts shine the brightest.

Truths and lies birth a chaotic space in her soul, lost and empty at the unknown tear of her personage. She could not see the difference between being herself and being at home when white noise is constantly tingling in her ears.

Perhaps it is why she cannot sleep in the comfort of her home. Only could she close her eyes and wish for stability. Yet her mind and heart lay unrest as the night breeze whispered a lullaby. Even if she does get to reserve energy for a new day, a few hours were more than enough, despite her body raging at her nerves that she could not compete against sunny skies.

"It's a pity, isn't it? The more we look up to the sky, the more grounded we feel. We'll never know whatever more constellations that feature our sun is out there, our gaze limited on the edge of the atmosphere."

Nara did not need to turn around to know whose voice it belonged. She could recognize it when her surroundings are lonely, only welcoming those that approach with wariness. However, the owner of the voice is not someone who is wary of anything, but mostly invites himself into her quiet space, interrupting at sensible moments that she finds grateful for.

"It is a pity," she replies, a painful, weary smile on her lips. "Are you not with your friends? It's quite late to be out here in the open, don't you think?"

"I could ask the same."

She sensed him stepping forward to stand beside her, shoulders a few inches away. Even on a cold, windless night, there seemed to be warmth engulfing a part of her. Her gaze had shifted to the water, the distorted reflection of herself gazing back at her, then looking at the samurai's reflection.

"I was about to ask you how you found me, but I guess I don't have to."

"Hm? I cannot indulge myself in seeing you?" A teasing tone was evident in his voice.