Water Moon

by Samantha Sotto Yambao

Time has no borders except those people make. On this particularly cold autumn day, Ishikawa Hana fashioned that border out of the thinnest layer of skin. Eyelids were useful that way.

Happiness has little to do with what you have, and everything to do with what you do not.”

Losing your way is oftentimes the only way to find something you did not know you were looking for.”

“Love is something that people are taught to want. But all we really need is to not be alone when we come home and to have someone to wave goodbye to us at the door when we leave.”

Each person has his own idea of what freedom tastes like. For you, it might be soothing and warm like the joy of staring out the window on a rainy day, not wanting to be anywhere else. For my next client, it might taste like courage, intoxicating and darkly sweet.”

When Keishin asked her why she liked painting reflections, she told him that it was because the most desirable things were the ones that you could see, but never touch.

“The door is not locked. You can turn around and leave anytime you want.” “I could, but my father taught me better than to abandon someone simply because it’s easier to walk away.” “You don’t even know me.” “We could change that. You could start by telling me your name.” “I—” Hana’s eyes fell to his lips. Her name in his mouth was a dangerous thing. She imagined how his lips might shape its syllables and how his voice might turn them into a stream of honey wine. Sweet drinks were the worst traitors. You drowned in them with a smile. “I can’t.”

Second times were almost always more enjoyable than firsts. Kisses. Sex. Lab experiments. As far as Keishin was concerned, first times were created for the sole purpose of getting failure out of the way.

“Do not look at me.” Hana pulled her collar closer around her neck. “I’m hideous.” “What? No. No. I was just surprised. That’s all. I swear. There’s nothing you need to hide. You’re still…” Heat rose up Keishin’s neck. “Beautiful.” “Be careful.” Hana tightened her grip on her clothes. “Lying is becoming a habit for you.” “I’m not lying.” “Then you are blind.”

Her features were as carefully curated and assembled as any constellation, but more fascinating. Stars were interesting but did not hold his attention.

Curled on her mattress next to Keishin, her face near enough to feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, Hana dangled from a tree that towered over everything she knew. From this distance, the world below was tiny, and she was free from its grasp. Still, she had no wings. She nestled her cheek against Keishin’s chest and closed her eyes, wondering if falling into him would hurt as much as crashing into the ground and shattering all her bones.

“There is something about autumn that makes things more beautiful. Out of all the seasons, it is the most honest about time. Summer and spring blind you to its passing with their colorful displays. Winter paints over everything in white. But autumn is not shy about things coming to an end. It welcomes it, waving leafy flags of red, yellow, and gold. It celebrates its sadness.”

The last few minutes of sleep were always thicker, creamier, and more delicious than all the hours that came before them.

It was easier to chew on misery if you did not know what happiness tasted like.

“Some people are simply not fated to have children. Like me.” Keishin frowned. “But you have children. We met them at your home.” “They are my sister’s. When she died, I raised them and loved them as my own. And they have loved me,” Fumiko said. “As much as they could. There were many nights when they lay next to me and cried for their real mother until they fell asleep. Even though the stars lit up the village’s sky, those were the darkest nights I ever had. And yet, I could not help but feel that I deserved it.” “Deserved it?” “I had sent up a hope that had no place among the stars. I hoped for children even if there was no trace of a single child’s name on my skin. When my sister’s children were placed in my care, I could not help but feel that somehow, I had stolen her fate.” Fumiko looked up at the sky. “There is no greater misery than holding in your arms something that you know is not truly yours. In the worst of times, I thought that I would have preferred to have traded places with my sister.” “Why?” “Because death is kind and swift. Longing is a life sentence.

“I don’t think that I have an answer to your question. It was not a specific day or an exact moment. I did not wake up and suddenly feel that I loved you. The only answer I can give you is that it happened gradually. Slowly, and unnoticed, the way the ocean turns rocks into sand. And you are an ocean, Hana. Gentle and quiet, yet powerful enough to sweep away any man or ship. I drowned in you a long time ago and I did not even know it.”

Last times almost always came in disguise, never revealing who they were until they were gone and all you could do was miss them.

This rumor traveled faster than most, not because it was thrilling, but because once they had heard it, people could not bear keeping such misery to themselves. They passed it on quickly, hoping that if they shared it, they would have less of it living in their minds. I can tell you from my own experience that it did not work.”

The library guards everything and nothing at all. Books do not find value when they are written. They find value when they are read. Every book here is both worthless and priceless at the same time. It depends on who you ask. As I have not yet had the pleasure of reading half of the library’s collection, I can say that only the books that I have taken from the shelves and stored in my heart are truly precious.”

Hiroko gestured to a shelf across the room. “That section of the library is my favorite. It is where all possible endings live. When a writer changes his mind about the fate of a character, his story’s alternate path finds its way here. It’s quiet now, but when the books wake up, all the endings like to argue which one is best.”

Hiroko led them to a dark corner of the library whose shelves were covered by cobwebs and a thick layer of dust. “This section houses all the stories with happy endings. As you can see, it is not very popular. Even the fireflies avoid this place.” “Why?” Keishin said. “People come here to escape, not to envy.”

“The only choice we have in this world is to be content,”

“Do you want to hear something weird?” Keishin said. “Stranger than trains that get lost at sea?” Hana knelt on the floor and set down the maps. “Not that strange.” Keishin smirked. “I don’t like maps.” “Why not?” “They remind me of all the things people pretend to know, all the things we make up to make us feel like we understand everything and are in control. Maps are more of an art form than a science. They’re designed at the discretion of their makers. Some things are shrunk, others are enlarged, some places are kept, and some are left out. We draw thick red lines around spaces we claim as our own as if we could actually see where one space ended and another began. But borders are simply constructs. They exist only in our minds.” Hana kept quiet, unsure how to completely yet politely disagree. Borders were real, and the ones that were the most difficult to cross were not the invisible lines between towns, but the walls people built around themselves. Borders were necessary. They kept secrets safe.

life is about finding joy in the space between where you came from and where you are going. I may never get to where I want to go, but I can look back on my life and say that I did not waste a second of it being bitter that I was not someplace else. Happiness does not exist in a place. It lives in every breath we take. You need to choose to take it in, over and over again.”

Rmember this

“It’s funny how the mind finds ways to fill itself up with worthless things as though it was afraid of being empty.” “Or quiet,” Hana said.

“You’re bleeding.” “It’s nothing,” Keishin said. “It is strange how ‘nothing’ looks exactly like blood.”

We are in an illusion we conjured. We built the bars of this prison and created our own jailers. Have you thought about what would happen if we stopped?” “Stopped?” Hana said. “This cycle.

“Your name is on my skin, but greater gods have carved your fates into your bones. You and I were never meant to be.

His father had once told him that there was only one measure of how well a person spent his day. It depended on how much of the day you spent pining for the future or regretting your past. By that scale, Keishin was undoubtedly having a terrible one.

“Stop looking for me, Kei. I live in your past. You can line up at the restaurant all you want, but yesterday has no door.”

YESTERDAY 👏🏻HAS 👏🏻NO 👏🏻DOOR 👏🏻

“Leaving him was the worst mistake of my life,” the woman said as though the entire restaurant had disappeared and she was talking to no one but herself. “Why did you do it?” “For the same reason all fools give up good things. We look at our hands and wonder what we could hold if they were empty.”

Ooommmgggg