too small for the sky

A sixteen-year-old me had run into the garden just as wild as her surroundings, with messy tears running down her cheeks and found the best thing in her life.

Kazu had taken one look at me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me through the flowers to the very back of the small meadow. He’d ignored my blabbering and sniffing and sat me down. I learned how to make a flower crown that day, and all the names of the constellations, and how very much I did not want to go back to the castle. 

Quiet. 

Silent.  

Invisible. 

I keep my eyes focused on the spot where the sun is supposed to set. I’ve been staring there for so long my vision has begun to blur at the edges, exhaustion boring down in my mind for how long I’ve been here. I bite my lip, impatience pulsing through my veins.

I’ve crammed myself onto the ledge right beneath the bridge, the one that leads from the palace to the marketplace. The palace gates close at sunset, which means I have to be out before then, but also wait here until it’s time. 

I grit my teeth as the sand and rocks dig their way into my palms, rubbing them raw as I reposition myself so that I have a better view of the gate. Three guards, two at the edges of the massive gate, one prepared to escort any last visitors. 

No one comes, and the guards close the doors. The sun dips just past the horizon, and the stars begin to twinkle once more. My fingers search for a moment, then latch onto a ledge and I heave myself over the bridge. The motions are familiar and easy, done over a hundred times. Fingers dig into worn down notches in the rock. I let out a breath, and follow my anxious feet into the quiet marketplace. 

The path past the marketplace is one that I have gone through too many times, so many that I’m sure my footprints are worn into the dirt and dust. Today is the same as any other. I run through the dark shops, my heart getting lighter the further away I get from the palace. The sun is all but gone now, and there’s nothing but the stars and moon to glare down at me. And yet, to me, I have finally started living.

When I reach the edge of the marketplace and enter the village, I take a sharp turn and make my way to the run-down little garden at the end of the library. It’s a small one, and overgrown too, but my heart flutters at the sight of the pale moonflowers and clusters of primroses. As I slow to a steady walk, I turn to ease the small gate closed behind me, begging it not to creak. I let out a sigh as it still squeals. Turning around, any annoyance is immediately forgotten and I skip through the weeds and flowers because he’s here.

Three years ago I had come to this exact garden, not looking for anything in particular but also lost beyond reason. My mother and father, who were both mere court members, without any real say or status in the castle, had concluded that they couldn’t keep the rest of the family living the way it had been. They had finally decided that their only daughter was to be married off in hopes of receiving more favor in the court and a bonus in their salaries. And even though I had never had a special relationship with either of my parents, it had stung. It had hurt. It had been scary.

I had run out of the castle then, straight past the guards and over the gate. I still remember the hot, angry tears running paths down my cheeks. The wind made the tears sting and my hair stick to my wet, tear-soaked face. And yet I couldn’t stop myself from running through the winter marketplace, almost empty at sunset. 

And by the time I had made it to the little garden, I was missing a shoe and being covered in dirt and tears. I wasn’t sure why I even stopped, but I had. It had changed my life.

Because a sixteen-year-old me had run into the garden just as wild as her surroundings, with messy tears running down her cheeks and found the best thing in her life. Kazu had taken one look at me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me through the flowers to the very back of the small meadow. He’d ignored my blabbering and sniffing and sat me down. I learned how to make a flower crown that day, and all the names of the constellations, and how very much I did not want to go back to the castle. 

So now I’m in this little village twice a week. Always after sunset. Always to meet Kazu. 

“Kaaa-zuu!” I call softly, even though there isn’t anyone living near our garden. 

A faint, quiet Sooo-ji can be heard from the other end of the garden. A grin spreads across my face, and I smile shamelessly.

I wander to the very end, where the garden opens up to a giant plain of wildly grown grass. And, sure enough, Kazu is sitting at the edge with another messily put together crown of morning glories and lilacs, and some other flower that I can’t remember the name of. Stars, he looks so pretty in the moonlight, dark hair and pale eyes. I’ll never get sick of this, I think. 

He stands to meet me, and I stop walking a foot away and fall into his arms. It’s not cold anymore, but I still can’t help but feel warmer here. When I pull back, Kazu sweeps back my hair, running his fingers through it, before placing the flower crown gently on my head. He steps back after a moment, as if to admire his work. I smile, and he pats me on the head.

“What are we doing tonight?” I ask once we’re sitting on the damp green grass, staring at the stars. I’m staring at the stars, but I’m pretty sure he’s staring at me. The thought makes my smile wider. 

“I want to show you something.” He leans back on the palms of his hands and I give him a look. 

“You show me something every time I come.”  

“This is special, I promise.” 

He stands and then turns to help me up. I take his hand steadily and brush off any dust clinging to my dress. He points to the edge of the meadow, past the garden and into the wilder wild. “It’s a little far, but you’ll like it.” 

“Okay. Let’s go.” I don’t let go of his hand and, like that, Kazu leads me through the long grass and wildflowers. 

Soon, we’re halfway through the field, and the village is mere speckles in the other direction. It’s peaceful here. No heavy weights on my shoulders, no eyes on my face, nothing to stop me. And call me weak, but I never want to leave. 

“Are we almost there, Kazu?” I say while I spin around on the grass, brushing my fingers across the tall, spiky blades. 

When I look up, the sky is covered in stars, too many to count. If I squint hard enough, I can make out three of the constellations Kazu taught me. 

“Look there.” He points to an opening in the trees beside us, and I narrow my eyes to see past them. While I’m still standing on my tippy-toes, my gaze squinted, Kazu grabs my hand and I stumble to follow him through the trees, laughing as I go. 

I’m still giggling when we make it past the trees, happy tears at the edge of my eyes. We slow to a halt, and I open my eyes. I gasp. 

The trees open up once more, except this time to reveal a small lake, one as flat as a sheet of glass reflecting the stars and moon and clouds. It looks as if the sky is upside down and this shimmering piece of sky is a pool of infinity. And the sky today is perfect, covered in endless stars, with a few large, puffy clouds listlessly floating across the sky. The sky is perfect, and it’s mirrored in the lake as though the water recognized the beauty and couldn’t help but reflect it. My heart clenches.

“Kazu…” I mouth softly, eyes unmoving from the lake. “It’s beautiful.” I don’t know how, but I feel him smile beside me.  

“I knew you’d like it. You always like where I bring you, Soji.” 

I glance at him now with a frown, but all that does is make him smile. He pulls me closer toward the lake, and drags me down to lay beside him. The grass is spiky and tall, and my feet rub against the damp soil, but I can hardly feel any of it. All I can see is the sky, and all I can feel is Kazu, warm and solid and here. 

“Kazu,” I start, and hear the grass rustle as he turns to look at me. “I feel small next to the sky. Do you?” 

“Feel small? Maybe. The sky is big, but also so very far away. But I think being this small is a little comforting. I can mess up, but even then it won’t be very big.” I hum softly as he speaks, and when he finishes, I close my eyes. 

“The world is so big, though. I don’t want to be small.” 

“You’re not small, Soji. You are the world.” My lips pull into a smile even as I keep my eyes closed. 

“Flattery suits you well.” 

“Too bad I can’t find anyone to flatter.” 

I elbow him in the side, and Kazu lets out a breathy laugh. A comfortable silence falls, and I open my eyes to stare at the sky again. The clouds pass by slowly, and every so often the moon gets covered and the stars get brighter. 

I do feel small compared to the sky. The sky is big and wide and full of stars. The sky is bright and beautiful, and I don’t think I’m much compared to the sky. But then again, the sky is full of burdens. Even the sky rains when it is sad. The sky roars when it’s mad, it dims when it’s disappointed, it strikes the earth when it’s hurt. Maybe being the sky is hard after all, and maybe it’s better that I’m small. Maybe it’s true that I would rather be here than up there. I’m not quite done living, after all. 

Abruptly, I turn and face Kazu, curling around so my legs are drawn up, and I lay on my shoulder. “I’m tired, Kazu.” He turns to face me as well, reaching across to push away a strand of hair. “I can’t see the end, and it never stops. I’m tired, Kazu.” 

“I get tired, too. I can’t promise you it will end, or get better. But every time I come here it gets a little better. You make things better.” Tears prick the edges of my eyes, and when they fall they run trails down the side of my face into the earth. 

I don’t want to go back to tight dresses and fitted heels, I don’t want to go back to being watched by the entire court. I don’t want to have to talk to suitors who are all too old for me and don’t care who I am, only how I look. I don’t want to go back to all the voices telling me I should smile more, and talk to the other girls my age, and be less nervous around people. With all those thoughts running through my mind on repeat, I squeeze my eyes tight and hold back a sob. 

“It’s okay, Soji.” Kazu turns me around gently with long fingers and tucks me close to his side. “It’s going to be okay.” I wrap my arms around myself, and he holds me tight, safe. I can’t help but think I’ll miss feeling safe and warm like this, even if I’ll be back next week. It always feels like I’m losing a piece of my heart every time I have to leave the meadows. Every time I have to leave Kazu. 

“Sleep, now. I’ll wake you when you have to go back.” I let the rest of my tears fall into the damp earth and let the stars lull me to sleep. I don’t want to go back.

When I wake, the world is rocking slowly, up and down. Not in a stiff or bothersome matter, but in a soothing way. Up and down, up it goes, down it goes. The world seems a little muffled, as though I’m hearing everything through a sheet of cotton. But up and down it goes, over and over and over again. And when I open my eyes, all I can see is Kazu and the meadows, and maybe life isn’t so bad. 

“Welcome back, princess.” Kazu doesn’t look down at me in his arms, just keeps walking slowly back toward our little garden. I pout, just a little, at the nickname. 

“I’m not a princess, I’ve told you this before.” I go loose and let my head loll back onto his chest as my words slur out. Sleep still clings to me a little.

“You come from the castle,” he points out, and I sigh. “You’re always wearing dresses, and you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I let out a hmmm at his arguments, and poke him in the chest.  

“Still not a princess.” 

“You can be my princess, then.” That puts a smile on my face, one that doesn’t disappear until we’ve made it all the way to the little wooden gate. 

The walk back to the castle is slow and monotonous. The sun has yet to rise and the marketplace is barren. Everything moves a little slower and I can’t help but feel as though I left behind all sources of life at the little garden with Kazui. Now I just have to pretend for a little longer, wait a while more, until I can go back to being alive. 

I can do it. 

Four days later, I find at the edge of the carpet with my ear against the door to my father’s study. I had been preparing to go out once more, when the conversation within had caught my attention. I don’t know why, but it feels important. It feels intentional. I can’t help myself. 

“Did you say they were–” 

“I told you, Huraji, it wasn’t like that, it was sudden. I don’t know if it’s still out there anymore, but it killed almost twenty of them off, just like that.” 

“What age were most of them?” 

“Around eighteen, pretty young.” 

“How did they die, remind me?”

“It was so fast, I didn’t know a plague could move that fast. The medics and healers said it was some sort of new variant, one that targeted young people… I’m not sure. I can clarify with a few of the healers, but they said the plague died with the patient, and just as quickly.” A long, heavy sigh. A bit of rustling and a headache I can almost hear from outside the rooms. 

“Names? Do you have names at least?” 

“Only most of them… Liam Mairi, Emmaline Sommers, Junpei Yoshino, Hannah Rooney, Satoru…” A long list of names comes out of the man’s mouth, and it doesn’t sound like they were all from the same village, or province even. I listen briefly, wondering if I’ll recognize any names. 

“Kitt Azer… Kazuya Hya-” 

I gasp and pull away from the door as though it might have shocked me. My skin runs cold. I- Kazu wouldn’t. It couldn’t have been my Kazu. That makes no sense. 

I run back to my room and wait in awkward silence. It’s not Kazu. He would tell me about something like that, and even then, there’s no way he can just die like that. And… there are lots of Kazuyas out there. It’s unlikely. 

By the time I’m under the bridge waiting for sunset, I’m completely sure of myself. I’m going to walk into the garden, call his name, and spend the night living life again. I’m sure, I tell myself.

This time, as I wait under the bridge, I don’t feel the heat. My fingers dig into the stone, red and raw, but I don’t feel any of it. My legs go numb after a while, and the tingling, spiky sensation stretches up my thighs, but all I can see is the sun dipping under the sky, slowly, too slowly. By the time the sun has finally slipped away and the guards step from their posts, I’m buzzing with anxiety. I won’t let myself call it fear, but my whole body is tingling with anticipation. 

The run through the marketplace is long today. The never-ending village blurs beside me as I run, and yet everything feels too sharp and bright at the same time. Stars, where am I going? 

I skid to a stop once I make out the white wooden gate, and wipe away stray tears that had squeezed out as I ran. Dragging my hands down my skirts, I pull open the door. It’s silent today, no whining, no squealing, the gate opens as though it knows I can’t handle the noise today. 

The garden is quiet, silent and forgotten. Ordinary, though. It is the same as all those other weeks, every other night. Nothing is different. 

Taking steps inside, I push the gate closed behind me and take a breath. 

“Kaaa-zu?” I call and wait patiently for a response. Seconds tick by like hours, and part of me is forever stuck in this moment, waiting, waiting, waitin-

“Soo-ji,” The barest whisper over the wind sounds, in between the lines of the garden, and my heart skyrockets. I pound through the small little garden until I make it to the very end, the same bushes where I would always find Kazu. Gentle Kazu, patient Kazu, kind Kazu. Always here, always safe, always warm. 

Nothing is here. 

“Kaaa-zu?” I whisper again, I call, I desperately try to find, but no, nothing is- it’s all gone and nothing is here. Where did it all go? Why did you leave without me? Where are you, where are you, where are you? 

No response. 

The garden is empty.