wanderer's moon | kaedehara kazuha

11 | the world shouts out incessantly

Seashells half-buried in the cerulean-covered sand adorns the shore, the glimmers of each speck glistening from the merciful sun. Overcast clouds are scarcely obscuring the star, making it all the more remarkable for a perfect day to walk the reposeful beach. The duo arrived at Kannazuka island from their voyage at sea with a small boat, just an hour after noon for them to rest under a lofty tree as the autumn breezes past them a little colder than usual, a hint, Kazuha said; that winter is around the corner.

Nara kneels down to the sand, covered knees wet with sea salt water, and cups it with the bowl of her palms. It is frigid, yet not frosty to seize the surface. Despite the golden sun raining down on the world, the earth below is on the cusp of snow. The still water which rests on her palms mirrors the orb of the sun as if she collected it in her hands. If the world was so effortless to capture, this might have been one of its methods, but Nara has yet to learn the splendours of it to earn it.

"The tides come and go, the birds return still for which, their souls yearn for sea."

There he goes again, Nara could not help the mirthful smile on her lips. Cosmic blooms flow out of his mouth every once in a while, but Nara does not mind. His voice was already enthralling to hear, and so does his noble yet humble soul. There is an unfathomable feeling living inside the depths of her heart, yearning and urging to pry open her ribs and let out all of that alien feeling—but Nara is afraid. It was not the first time she encountered this conflict, for which it grew unknowingly, only for her to realize it too late.

Perhaps his transient presence impacts her like the cratered moon, while his absence throb wisps of her soul like the luminous moon. If after all those moon drip nights she stared at the glory in the starry sky, made her all the more vulnerable to the world, then perhaps—Kazuha is one as a whole for which he is the sun, the wind, and all of nature.

It shows in the way he smiles in her direction, and the enduring storm that obscures her heart cleared away as if he were parting the clouds for the sunshine to make way. It shows in the way he marvelled at the skies in day and night with a peaceful expression on his face as if he had accomplished everything he wanted, yet hungry to learn more about the world.

And part of her envied that—envied him. To be able to make peace with oneself. To be able to be content with one's feelings. To be unburdened by what life throws at her.

When the sun lowers, Kazuha led them to a cave, safe and sound from monsters and ronins. There are vines covering one side of the wall, leading to a small opening where the sunlit sky peeks into the dim cave. They are not the only travellers occupying the cave after all, based on the hints of life scattered near the stony walls; an abandoned tent, a bed made of parched long grass.

Kazuha must have noticed the scrutinizing look on Nara's face, considering that this is the first time she had to stay the night outside of her home.

"Are you alright?" He asked, having just placed his small bag on the ground. Nara snapped out of it, glancing at him.

"Y-Yes, it's just—I'm a long way from home so it might take some time for me to adjust," she assures him with a small smile.

"Don't worry, it's normal to feel that way. I was once an inexperienced wanderer who was accustomed to living a luxurious life," Kazuha began setting a few twigs in the middle of the cave where a previous traveller used to make fire. "Eventually, you will find that home is not only in one place, but everywhere around you. The forest, the boundless ocean and the highest mountains. You will learn as you walk the earth and sail the seas."

His words left Nara in silent esteem. There was nothing she could convey to respond to the wiser when she barely grazed the sky. As Kazuha busied himself with the campfire, Nara strode towards the makeshift tent, sitting on the bed of grass—slightly discomfiting, but still bearable for enough rest—and takes out a few snacks the elder lady made for her before she set off.