The Universe Listened | Kiribaku

With golden string, our universe was clothed in light

CHAPTER ONE

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This is what happens when you meet the love of your life 10 years later:

You're on a plane heading back to the city you reside in after having just watched a child from your dance studio compete and win in a nationwide competition. You're one of the last few to board, annoyed at yourself for being a little late.

You see him. Bright red hair standing tall just like you remember. Childlike excitement just like you remember. A stupid smile. A stupid fucking smile that you hated yet adored at the same. Wide eyes, so red, a slight shake to them like always. Golden skin you remember holding and touching just like it was yesterday.

Everything comes rushing back to you. All the feelings, so warm and comforting at the pit of your stomach. So vivid like they never even left.

There's something different here, in his eyes you see something different. More life perhaps? Light? Upon further inspection, a little more staring, you notice that he's looking outside. Not like looking the way he would when he "looked" at you when you spoke. It wasn't ever like he was staring back; never felt like this either. But his eyes. They were jumping around. From object to object like he was actually seeing the world and it dawned on you that he had done one of those experimental surgeries on blind people. You realize that it worked. That he could see.

You say his name. Once. Loud but clearly not loud enough because although he looks in your direction for a brief moment, it doesn't grasp him fully. So again. You say his name. You wait.

He stands. Slowly. And then he's looking at you, or in your direction at least. Squinting. His face works. You watch pieces click behind his eyes, one by one. Like a long lost puzzle. Finally, you're sure he sees you. You say his name. Hold your breath as you wait, counting time as it passes.

He says it back and it takes you everything you have to not crumble right there. To not fall apart in his arms. Again. He says it again. You're pushing people past you, squeezing your way down the thin aisle, doing your best to not trip and fall over others.

Within seconds, he's in your arms and everything about it feels right. He was made to be here, in your arms, close like this. You aren't even sure if you're breathing anymore.

You break away, look at him, flick your eyes over to a flight attendant and ask if you can change your seat. She's hesitant, eyes you and him, before nodding. It's done and you're next to him, holding his hand so tightly as if it were the only thing keeping you safe. Riot, that stupid dog you remember so well, is at his feet. He's looking older now, a little more grey in some areas. You let him smell you before you run your fingers along his head, once twice.

He talks your ear off the entire flight. He started working at Mina's studio after they graduated as an instructor. He helps young disabled kids learn the ways of dance. You learn one of his kids, a young deaf child is dancing in your city. You learn he's here for the weekend and you almost combust. Right there, it's like your skin is unravelling, bundling up on the floor by your feet.

When you land, you follow him to the large building where the competition is being held. His student is brilliant. Amazing. He doesn't win, however, he does come very close. You watch the way he talks to the child, kneeling down, smiling and kind and breathtaking in every way imaginable. He reassures him of his skill. Congratulates him on taking second place proudly.

He cancels his hotel and goes back to your small apartment with you. All night, you talk, reminisce. Get caught up on all the things that had happened during the many years the two of you were apart. You learn about the procedure he had done on his eyes, what he can see now. The world, but only when it's close. He still can't sense depth and things that are more than seven feet away are blurry blobs of mashed colour. But he'll take what he can get, that's what he tells you.