“Kazuha.” You waved. “You’re out very late tonight.”
The lone samurai sat up, turning around. His ivory hair was free from its low ponytail, falling around his face in messy, layered waves. The strand of red was feathered in front of his left eye, like it had fallen from behind his ear. There was a softness to his face, one you hadn’t seen during the day, that was highlighted by the glow of the moon. He looked like a well and truly relaxed young man, swathed in crinkled robes and his wrist braces abandoned at his side.
“You’re out here just the same. Couldn’t sleep?” His melodic voice has a hint of roughness, like you had woken him up from a light doze when you walked onto the deck.
“Oh no, I probably could, I just came out here to meditate.” You walked over and sat next to him.
“Meditation?” Kazuha raised a slim eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type.”
You chuckle. “Is that an insult?”
Kazuha shakes his head softly. “Not at all, you just seem to be a very active person. I didn’t expect such a calming hobby.”
“Well it’s been recommended to me by a trusted friend. She said that it would help me. You know anything about it?”
Kazuha tilts his head to the side, strands of his hair curling on his shoulder. “I do. When I was younger, it was part of my samurai training. According to my father, it helps cultivate balance and harmony of the body and mind.”
“Did you find it difficult?” You shuffled as you spoke, pulling your legs into position and placing your mediation book in front of you.
“Not particularly.” Kazuha responded. “I was never a very energetic child. It was easy for me to sit still.” Kazuha huffed a small laugh. “Besides, as the former young master to my clan, it was somewhat of a requirement to be calm, and I had already been practicing in other activities that needed patience, like calligraphy and poetry.”
“Lucky you. I hardly know what I’m doing.” You chuckled and leaned back on your hands.
“It will get easier as you go along, I’m sure. Everything does.”
“Yeah, just gotta… trust the process.”
Kazuha laughs softly, his eyes crinkling only just around the edges. “How have you been progressing?”
You sigh. “Not much. A friend has been helping meditate for longer periods of time, but I haven’t been able to reach this ‘meditative state’ the book talks about.” You, rather pettily, flick the corner of the book and wince when your nail hits the cover. “I came out here to try and meditate alone, hoping the rocking of the boat or the waves or whatever would help me chill out.”
“Oh, alone? Would you like me to leave?”
You shook your head. “No, I’m not going to kick you off the boat deck, besides, I like talking to you.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “Though, if you’ve meditated before, care to share any advice?”
Kazuha tilts his head in thought, his doe eyes squinted. “Have you tried laying down?”
“Sorry?”
“I mean, do you always sit while trying to meditate? Have you ever tried meditating lying on your back?”
“Uh, no. The book I’m using only shows examples of meditation while sitting up straight.”
Kazuha nods like he understands and moves closer to you. He hovers his hand over your spine, but never touches. “That might be the problem. Meditation requires good posture, but if you are not used to maintaining good posture, it can be more difficult when trying to meditate sitting up.”
His hand maps along your spine, from the base of your neck to the small of your back. “See, your spine might not be well aligned and it could be inhibiting your ability to breathe properly. Lying on your back will align and create proper posture and support of breath. You should practice taking deep breaths on your back to learn how to take in more air than you’re used to.”
The almost touching of his hand along your spine sent shivers all the way to your scalp, but you forced yourself to pay attention to his words. “So you think I’m not reaching that meditative state because my posture isn’t correct? And you think laying on my back will help fix that?”
“It is possible.”
“I'll be sure to try it then.” You smiled at him and he leaned back, nodding back at you. “What were you doing out here so late?”
“Just thinking.” Kazuha turned to gaze out at the sea, an endless darkness with the occasional white of the crashing waves and the glimmering stars. “Being out here is a balm to the mind, very relaxing. Good inspiration as well.”
“Inspiration for what?”
Kazuha’s lips tick up. “If there’s any subject I enjoyed while being raised as a young master, it was poetry. Now, I enjoy thinking of haikus.”
“Oh, I was never good with haikus.”
“You’re familiar?”
You nodded. “Poetry of all kinds, really. My mother used to write a lot of it and I have a close friend who enjoys it, as well as ballads, plays, stories, any kind of art honestly, though he doesn’t really paint, I’m the painter of us two, or I’ve been trying-”
A soft chuckle breaks you from your ramble and you blush lightly. “That is to say, I’m familiar with most poetry, but not as familiar with haikus. Would you tell me about them?”
Kazuha tilted his head back, his face serene as he carefully thought out his words. “Nature was seen as something beautiful, something people strived to live in harmony with, that it had a soul just as you and I do. Haikus focused on the good of nature; flowers and trees, the sunset,” he chuckled for a moment. “They strayed away from the horrors of nature, like natural disasters or plagues.”
“That sounds nice. I’ve read a lot of poetry about nature but I think it’s interesting to try and get such a profound meaning across in so little lines.”
“Beautiful as they are, it can be quite frustrating trying to find the right words.”
“Are you writing one now?”
Kazuha huffs with amused frustration. “I am, and it is quite insistent on running away from me.”
You laugh. “I’m sure you’ll catch it eventually.”
“I cannot simply catch it, it has to come to me.”
“How poetic.” You say teasingly.
Kazuha scoffs playfully. “You try it.”
“Oh no,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “My mother and my friend are the poetry writers, not me. I think I'll stick to the difficulties of painting.”
“Alright.” Kazhua shrugs. “If you think yourself unable, I won't push you.”
“Unable?” You gasped. “I’m not the best in the world but I could string a few lines together, I’m not unable!”
“Go on then, there’s plenty to take from all around us.” Kazuha waves his arm out, presenting the night sky, dotted with stars, the crashing waters that look more black than a typical beach blue, and wind, flying through the flags to give them quite the dramatic look.
“Are we looking at the same thing?” You grumbled, but sat up straight. “Uhhh… turbulent waters… strong and… fierce? Under the stars… hold on.” You mumble the words as you clap for each syllable. “Strong - and - fierce - un - der - the - stars okay that works.”
You mumbled as you thought for who knows how long, Kazuha sitting beside you quietly, letting you work and gazing at you with a soft appreciation. You clapped your hands for a final time and turned to Kazuha with a triumphant grin.
“Ha! I’ve got it and it only took me… how long has it been since I started?”
“I have no way to tell time at this moment.”
You waved it off. “We’ll just say two minutes even though it was totally shorter than that.”
Kazuha’s lips ticked up. “Of course.”
You twist in your spot till you’re sitting criss-cross, facing Kazuha directly. “Alright, are you ready for this? Prepare yourself because you’re about to hear the most amazing shit you’ve ever heard. Award worthy, I’m telling you.”
Kazuha lightly covered his lips with the tips of his fingers and nodded at you to continue.
You took a deep breath, as if you were reciting the most revered poetry in the world. “Turbulent waters/Strong and fierce under the stars/Protect us kind sea.” You bowed awkwardly in your sitting pose.
Kazuha clapped, his smile more pronounced. “That was good.”
“It was good?”
“Very good.” Kazuha nods seriously.
“I feel like you’re being polite.”
“I am always polite.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll leave the poetry to you and my friend.”
“Not your mother?” Kazuha raised his eyebrows.
“Dead.” You shrugged. When Kazuha stayed quiet, a strange look overcame his face, and you spoke softly. “Don’t worry, she was old and died doing something she loved.”
“I see.” He murmured. “Still, I apologize if what I said was insensitive.”
You shook your head. “Nah, don’t stress. It’s not a big deal.”
And to you, it really wasn’t. One of the first things done when you arrived in this world, was to mourn the fact that you’d never be able to see your family again. Over the years, that little bit of pain that stayed alongside you, even after you had accepted your life here, had begun to fade. You knew your parents, and you knew they’d never let your death destroy them, you knew they were the kind of people to live for you. You were always comforted by the fact, finding peace with the idea that they’d be alright, at least, eventually. Strict and controlling as they were, they were still affectionate in their own ways, maybe not the most healthy ways to be affectionate towards your child, but you knew they were trying, and mattered a lot more than what most would think.
You couldn’t help but still hold care for them, but you were changing, moving, growing. If they had seen you now, worldly and skilled, you’d hope they’d be proud of you.
With these thoughts in mind, it didn’t so much as make you twinge with sadness when someone mentioned your cover story parents, who were dead, just as how your parents were essentially dead to you.
The two of you sat in silence for a few moments longer until you saw Kazuha’s head tilting onto his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He looked at you with soft, tired eyes that made him look like he was about to cry.
“Maybe you should go to bed. You shouldn’t sleep out on the deck, you could get sick.”
Kazuha’s eyes went from soft to incredulous but didn’t seem bothered enough to argue, so he stood from his spot on the deck and walked off with a calm ‘goodnight’.
Finally alone on the deck you decided to do what you had come out here to do in the first place. Taking Kazuha’s advice, you shuffled until you laid on your back, spreading your feet slightly and resting your hands on your stomach so you could feel yourself breathe.
You laid there, eyes closed, breathing deeply. You were consciously aware of so many aspects around you. The swaying of the boat left a comforting swing in your stomach everytime it rocked, the breeze draped over your body in a way that you couldn’t tell if it was Venti himself or just the way the wind flowed.
Through these motions, you noticed how deep you actually were breathing. You could feel every expansion of your lungs, your hands noticed the rise and fall of your stomach. The situation was so strangely soothing that you felt as if you could fall asleep, and soon enough you knew that’s exactly what was happening.
In an attempt to avoid falling asleep, you snapped your eyes open, but instead of being greeted with the starry sky, you were in an endless black void. You were so shocked you didn’t move for many seconds, simply staring into the abyss you had just been taken to. It wasn’t until you noticed an odd feeling around you that you moved.
Sitting up, you realized that the ‘floor’, or whatever you were sitting on, was covered in a thin layer of water, no more than an inch deep. The odder part being that no matter how you touched the water it only slid right off you.
You struggled to your feet, your arms and legs feeling weak and nearly numb. You stumbled around, being unable to tell if you were even moving. That was until you came across a white and purple shimmer, dimmed and unsaturated, but light enough that it could still be seen in the consuming darkness. The more you inspected it, the more it looked like a wall of some kind, one that extended up and to the sides, warped in a way that indicated it was spherical.
“This must be my mind barrier that Jinfeng told me about.” You whispered. With a shaking hand, you reached out, fingertips pressing into the shimmer. It melded to your hands, flexible and giving, a texture like mesh. You pushed further, seeing how far it could stretch before it finally gave way, a small puncture.
You were so fascinated, so caught in your discovery, you didn't notice the figure on the other side. Snarling and quick, it darted towards you. You hardly had enough time to scramble backwards, the only thought going through your mind being stop it! Stop it! Stop IT!
Just as the figure closed in, the punctured closed, the transparent wall hardening like stone. You both saw and felt as the creature rammed into the wall, claws trying to sink into the surface, scraping across the sides.
Immediately, you were filled with burning hot pain. It traveled through your whole body, every nerve lit aflame, tangling together and pulled taunt. You heaved, simultaneously feeling like you were about to vomit and as if your body was completely devoid of oxygen. When the pain felt like it was reaching its crescendo, like the monster would finally be able to break through your barrier, you sat up, gasping for air.
Your eyes were wide, taking in that ocean sky. Breathing was difficult, like there was something constricting your chest. The hands, you noticed, that were wrapped around your arms didn’t help. They were burning, tight, as if they were holding you down, but you were in no state of mind to think of it.
“Stop it!” You gasped out desperately. “Stop touching me! Get away!”
Immediately the hands released you and you scrambled forward. You fell on your hands, the wood on the deck rough and grounding, you pressed your forehead down till it too was poked by the edges of the planks. You breathed, heavily, eagerly, trying to get as much air into your lungs as possible.
It took awhile for you to breathe normally again, to notice that the pain you had felt within your mind had not crossed over. Your limbs were not weak, your insides not burning. You straightened up after the light-headedness finally fading, turning around to see who had grabbed you in the first place.
Behind you sat Aether and Ariel, worry clouding their faces, hands clenched into fists on their knees as they tried not to reach out, to touch you, to comfort you.
You could only sigh defeatedly, exhaustion weighing down your body. “I think something just tried to kill me.”