Chapter 1 - Worlds Traversed Through Komorebi

A howling broke the silence of the forest. It carried through the trees in a momentary absence of the breeze, striking harshly against the eardrums of a boy and a girl. The girl was knelt down when she heard, inspecting the tracks left behind by the beast. The boy stood guard behind her, his sword pointed towards the source of the noise. The girl continued examining the marks unperturbed, feeling the soft indents left in the soil by the roots of the tree.

The pair were beside a more orderly row of cypress trees that framed the road leading to the fortress, warding off the wilderness around it. The boy, fearing they might be seen so close by, tapped incessantly on the girl’s shoulder and when she eventually turned to look, she was blinded by a thin strip of sunlight that had found its way through the trees. The boy stepped across the beam’s path and she saw the alertness in his brown eyes.

She stood up, leaning on the hardened trunk for support, then moved to wipe the mud from her hand on his shirt and giggled as he leapt out of her reach, tripping onto the soft floor. When he did not move, she tentatively peered over, finding an embarrassed smile concealed beneath his brow. She offered her hand but he waved it away, pulling himself back up to standing on his own, level with her cerulean eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, the world briefly falling away until only their faint heartbeats could be heard. A second set of howls the only thing that could come between them.

They moved swiftly through the forest, the boy slightly ahead, their presence covered by the wild carpet laid out for them beneath their pounding feet. They cast intermittent glances over their shoulders as they fought through the tangle of bushes and vines towards the forest edge, illuminated by fresh strips of sunlight pouring through gaps in the canopy above.

They stopped just before the clearing, careful not to cross the boundary for fear of being exposed. Instead, they waited for the glare of the setting sun to attempt their siege, and the boy sought to pass the time by fashioning a sword for the girl from a fallen branch. But the one he chose was damp and splintered as he tested it against a trunk. So he found another, drier piece, and handed it to the girl, who whispered a simple ‘thanks’ as she sheathed it by her side.

They sprawled on their fronts, staring up at the fortress, but all they could see was the stone wall perimeter and lone oak sentry close behind. In the stillness, the boy started to notice the girl’s gentle panting beside his ear, feeling himself being drawn closer to its source. The girl lay, untangling the leaves clinging to her hair, strands resting beside the boy’s cheek. Fresh scents of shampoo mixed with the damp ground tickled his nostrils as he tried not to sneeze. The girl turned and colour rushed to his face at the nearness to hers. Instinctively, he raised a finger to his mouth shaped to silence her, but the girl just giggled through a stifling hand.  

They waited an age for the sun to fall into place – hatching their plan. With sufficient cover for their assault at last, they rose to their feet, forgetting to brush the foliage that still clung to their clothes. Staying low, they stalked the forest edge and up the slope, knowing of a weakness in the battlements – a forgotten gate at the edge of the wall. They peered over into the foreground, a deserted lawn the only thing between them and their assault.

The coast was clear – with no sign of the beast – but still the boy hesitated. The girl pushed him aside and unlatched the gate as the hinges creaked. Holding their breath, a few seconds passed until they were sure no one had heard. Carefully this time, they pushed the gate backwards on itself and stepped onto the immaculate grass, leaving disorder behind.

They darted towards the wall and edged along it to the corner where the gatehouse would be. Stopping to listen one more time, water bubbling from a cauldron was the only thing they could hear from inside.

The boy looked at the girl and narrowed his eyes, the girl nodding back at him and raising her sword. Then they charged out into the open, screaming defiantly without fear, the howling returning from the side. They breached the interior to lay claim to their siege, the beast leaping up from behind them, the orange sun flooding into the room around their backs.

         “There you two are,” a lady shouted to them from across the kitchen. “Leave those sticks outside and take your muddy boots off, before your mother sees the pair of you like that.”

         “They’re swords, Margaret,” the boy began to protest.

         “Well leave your swords outside then, little knights,” Margaret replied.

They stepped outside and flung the sticks as far as they could, the beast-turned black Labrador chasing after them. Removing their boots, they started racing through the kitchen, away from further calls to wash their hands before dinner was served.

The girl took the boy’s hand and they charged through the hall and up the stairs to his room. The distant sound of tears tapped against the windows of their conscious minds, concealed by the dying embers of the world they still occupied.

*

They arrived promptly after the third call for dinner. Deep in conversation, they ran back down the stairs to find the boy’s mother stood in the doorframe, watching them fondly. They rushed towards her, failing to register the redness around her eyes. She ruffled the boy’s hair, whilst the girl began recounting their adventure. Margaret served dinner at the counter top, whilst the three of them sat on stools too tall for them to comfortably reach their plates, not that they minded at all.

At some point they heard the front door open and close. Powerful strokes against the hardwood floor did not arrive at the kitchen door, instead pausing at the study, before slowly fading away. The mum said nothing, the dog remained dutifully by their feet.  

After dinner, the boy’s mum chased them upstairs, invigorating a new world for them under the bubbling foam of the bath. Then, cleansed from the world outside, they piled into bed, where she read them a story about Moles in Little Suits. The mother kissed each of them goodnight as they settled into the covers, leaving a thin strip of artificial light for them through a crack in the door.

Neither the boy or the girl could sleep for long though. Against the caustic sounds emanating from the library below, they were powerless to their imagination. The girl took the boy’s hand under the covers and squeezed it tight. Then they lay motionless, staring up at the reflection of the night sky on the ceiling above. The shouting rose up the stairs, followed by a sharp bang. Hurried footsteps followed, then a second door shut tightly beside theirs – sad vibrations felt through the wall.

*

In the morning, sunlight scorched the walls of their room. The pair, seemingly unburdened by the events of last night, skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Margaret and the dog were waiting for them.    

They heard the sound of gravel crunching on the drive, followed by the bell, sending the dog furiously howling across the hall. The girl’s mother was waiting on the other side, the boy’s mother descending the stairs to open it, betraying no signs of the night before either, a peculiar smile affixed to her face. The children protested that she stay to no avail. So in front of their mothers, they embraced, secrets that traversed worlds shared between them.

*

A week or so passed, when the boy woke again in the night. But the girl was not there to comfort him as the voices grew louder, noise spilling out into the hall. Although he couldn’t understand what the words meant, his body tensed against the oscillations in pitch.

He waited until morning, before tip-toeing out of his room and peering over the bannister to check the coast was clear, seeing suitcases in an uneven pile beside the door. He reached the kitchen and saw his mum stood in shoes and a coat, conferring a secret to Margaret through hushed whispers into her ear. Margaret’s eyes widened at the sight of the boy and the Mum turned to see him standing quietly in the doorframe, her shoulders sinking low. She glided slowly towards him and crouched down, until her eyes were level with his. Even in their watered down state, he could make out the same colour as his own.

She began telling him how much she loved him, that they were both going to live somewhere new. This upset the boy, as he called to mind all the places he had left to explore. Then he noticed a creak in the door beside him, glancing over to the study that was still obscured.

His mum took his head in her hands and tried to explain that she was moving away – that he was going to a new school – that they would be together again in time for snow. He saw fresh tears forming, initiating some of his own. Then he watched as she drove down the row of cypress trees, the dog nuzzling herself under the boy’s waving hand that slowly descended around her shoulder, as the car disappeared out of sight.

*

Later that day, Margaret called for the boy, who was sitting on a sofa in the library, staring up at imposing rows of books that he couldn’t yet reach. He stepped out into the hall to see a new set of suitcases by the door and helped Margaret load them into the boot of her car. The dog gave him a sad, knowing look, before turning to run back to the kitchen and out of the back door.

His father appeared from his study. Unlike his mum, he only bent slightly at the knee, providing his hand for the boy to shake. The boy allowed his hand to be engulfed in his father’s grip, before the man promptly withdrew back across the hall.

This time it was him who was leaving, but no one watching by the door. He turned anyway, just in case, before the house disappeared, blinded by the late summer light filtering through the trees.