No garden!

I wake up.

Heavy eyes.

Heavy breath.

Heavy body.

I’ve felt this before. After Grandpa’s passing, it came rushing in all over again.

I don’t want to get out of bed. Much less out of the house.

Look at me. Spreading ashes on the window sill, miserably smoking once more. But is there any point not to?

I’m reaching my right arm up while lying down, as a repeated subconscious compulsion to grab something in the middle of the smoke. My hand always comes back empty.

Perpetually looking at the same spot in the ceiling gives me no different thoughts.

I’ve spent all that time creating a garden for him. Now that he is gone, what purpose does it serve?

What purpose do I serve?

Heck, I’ll keep losing every person I love again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Just as I expected before losing him, only a few pesky days have passed, yet his face in my mind is already becoming blurry and distorted.

I don’t feel like caring for anything because, inevitably, everything will turn into this same dense fog. It all feels unreal and devoid of meaning to me.

I live for others as I don’t have any dreams for myself. Even if I had them, I’m just an average run-of-the-mill guy with no means of bringing them to life.

It would be best to be like Yada when I met her. Refuse life itself. Reject everything. Not moving an inch, spending my days thoroughly waiting for the last.

But as I remember her…

For now, I should feed those two. I can do that, at least.

It also doesn’t help that every day feels the same. Here again, in the kitchen, preparing toast in my shabby, worn-out pajamas, repeatedly waiting for that little menace to steal them.

Weirdly, he doesn’t come.

And why do they smell burnt if I just put them in the toaster? Oh, right… the garden is in flames.

…

The garden is in flames?

The garden is in flames!

This can’t be! Did I accidentally burn it while smoking?!

All of my hard work is being gradually undone before my eyes, engulfed by unassailable fire.

The glass greenhouse has melted altogether, and its frame is in shambles. Everything inside it has been ignited.

The trunk and branches of the ancient ginkgo tree are pitch-black as charcoal, and its leaves, mostly fallen, are all burnt. The smaller garden trees are toppled over the increasingly dark and patched grass.

The bonsai are unreachable behind a vortex of blazes and undoubtedly beyond saving.

Using water from the pond or hose is useless in extinguishing the fire. It’s flaring up. An uncontrollable raging vermillion conflagration, releasing frightening, noxious obsidian clouds.

This is truly a vision of hell.

Even the beanbag has not escaped unscathed by this calamity.

Hold on… Where’s Yada?! Where’s Baba?! I have to get them out of here!

They’re nowhere to be found. I can’t…

I can’t take this anymore… I can’t have lost them too…

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to breathe under this unbearable heat. My lungs ache immensely. I’m on the verge of fainting.

Get up, damn it! Don’t you quit like you always do! Not right now!

The gate is open…

There’s an unidentifiable figure in front of it, amidst the murky fumes. The wind blows, and it becomes more discernible.

Could it be? Yes… It’s him! It’s Baba!

He’s looking straight at me.

Then, he turns around and runs out of the property.

Has Yada already left the house? Is he taking me to her? I should follow him.

The fire is spreading fast, beginning to consume the whole house. The weakened structure is crumbling under the destructive force of this inferno. The roof and upper floor collapse when I reach the street’s corner.

“Wait, Baba!”

I can’t keep up with him. Not only did having inhaled those toxic gases for so long make me have sudden violent fits of coughing, but pajamas and slippers weren’t clearly designed for running outside.

I’m sprinting through deserted roads. Luckily, there are no pedestrians around to witness my current awful state.

I spoke too soon.

A swarm of people is coming, charging in my direction. Could they be firefighters going to my house?

No. I can’t believe it.

It’s a horde of heavily armed Vikings marching to war, thousands with impressively large braided beards and intimidating presences. The front lines rode on armored winged horses. The group furthest behind, composed of Aztecs, was pulling movable catapults filled with briefcases.

They get past me as if I didn’t exist.

The sky is filled with resentful dragons. Even the Ninja Dog is among them. They are scorching the whole area, wrecking entire buildings with just their claws. Naked giants are flinging cars against the Norse and Aztec troops that counterattack both enemies.

What is happening? Have I finally gone mad?

Now, it’s raining bunnies. They fall slowly and gently land on the ground.

A mob of emus runs behind me. Jackson picks me up on his back while the others pick up the rabbits individually. Baba was also picked up by one of them and is riding it, a distance of three emus in front of me.

We go through highly narrow streets that get progressively wider. After a while, they begin wobbling up and down. Hills and valleys of concrete act as ocean waves. Lengthy looping segments made us travel upside down. The terrain changes from city to dunes, to mounds, to jungles, to mountains, to glaciers, to marshes, to tundras. The road ahead never seems to end.

Suddenly, the mob stops.

We’ve reached it.

I’m back at the house again. But…

It is intact!

Yada is in the middle of the garden. Baba, now just strolling, goes next to her feet. As I enter, everything outside turns completely white.

She comes to me. Kisses me on the forehead. She holds my face with her two hands and says:

“NO!”

…

…

Oh.

It happened again.

Yes. All this time.

None of this is real. Nothing is what it seems to be.

I’m trapped inside this story and the one writing it…

Is me.

…

I fall asleep.

ᙏ̤̫

“It’s time to eat, Ru!”

The emerald-eyed maiden kisses the sullen young man’s forehead, leaving his favorite instant pasta nearby. That shifted his attention from writing, inducing him to drop the pencil and numerous papers.

The doorbell rings.

“Just a second!”

She takes off her apron before opening the door. The house was messy, but there was no time to clean anything.

“Hi, Momo! It’s been so long! How have you been?” The unanticipated guest asks.

“Nice to see you, Ai! Same as always, and you? Please, do come on in.”

“Same, same. Don’t mind if I do.” She parks her scooter near the entrance.

The visitor removes her shoes and sits on the tatami mat, legs to the side, beside a low wooden coffee table. Holding a hair tie in her mouth, she molds her sapphire hair into a ponytail and swiftly uses it to wrap it up. From her jacket pocket, she takes a soft pack of cigarettes and shakes one to her mouth.

Meanwhile, the residing girl prepares matcha tea. She brings it to the table in a jade teapot, forming a set with two ornamented teacups.

“You should stop that bad habit, Ai.” she discourages the maiden while bringing an ashtray closer to her.

“Yeah, I know. I can’t help it these days. I’ll drop it again soon enough… How’s my brother?”

“The usual. Since your grandfather passed, he’s been like this. For the last month, he kept writing every day, laying on the bean bag in the garden, barely speaking a word.”

"I expected that. Thank you for your patience and for taking care of him. I know how tough it must be for you.”

“Not at all. You must remember how I was when I first met him. Not that different. But he never gave up on me. Now, it’s my turn to do the same for him.”

“You are the best girlfriend he could have ever found. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

“In my perspective, I was the lucky one. He became my light. At some point, everyone has to face their darkest fears. We must strive to understand that and do our best to support them. I think he has finished eating. Let me bring his plate inside.”

Close to the boy, she whispers in his ear.

“I’ll always be here for you. I’ll wait as long as you need to. Just give your best each day. Take your time.”

The girl takes the plate, and the boy starts writing again.