Fragments.
wishing, hoping, and praying.

This story was originally called The Traveling Circus, and this was written last December, and this was originally the second chapter but is now the prologue. But this story is still originally mine... haha, yes, I’m lame.

You told me once that you always wanted to go to Japan.

I told you that I had played there almost fifteen times, and I said the city was a usual city. But just more lights.

You said, sure, the city’s great – but you wanted to go to the temples, to the shrines, to see the ever popular cherry blossoms.

I said, fine, I’ll take you to Japan. Together we’d see the temples, we’d see the shrines, and if it was legal, I’d break a branch off a cherry blossom tree and give it to you.

Even if it was illegal, I think I still would have done it.

But I never did, because it never happened.

“Wow, Civil,” Gold whistled, stepping into Ueno Park, his trusty chocolate snack by his side. “The train ride was so worth this.”

“Mhmm,” Civil mused, running a hand through his long, dark hair before tying it into a short ponytail. The train ride was longer than he thought it would be, and he complained during the entire trip, but he had to agree with Gold. The park was well worth the trip.

They approached a long pathway, shaded by thin, dark brown branches of Gingko trees and their richly colored leaves. Autumn had begun in Japan, and leaves that were fern green for most of the year were shifting into a magnificent golden yellow. Each step they took along the path, they would notice the subtle transition as each tree passed by and as their colors would blend with one another until they realized the color had changed completely. As every soft breeze would flow by, they would hear a calming rustle of leaves before seeing some settle on the ground, adding to the thick yellow carpet that lay along each dark tree trunk.

“Hey, Civil, isn’t Japan supposed to be full of cherry blossoms?” Gold asked, looking up at Civil with his curious blue eyes as he tried to control his blond hair from the wind.

Civil blinked, looking down and remembering he had someone with him. “It’s November, and they bloom at around April,” he said flatly, repeating what he had read from a pamphlet.

“Oh, darn,” Gold murmured, nibbling on a chocolate stick in the corner of his mouth. “I wanted to see them.”

Civil nodded; he had wanted to see them too. He looked around and noticed the groups of people, some tourists and some locals, huddled together and taking photos among the multicolored trees.

Would we have done the same?

“But the trees now aren’t that bad,” he said softly, looking up at the gliding leaves.

Unlike most twelve years old, Gold wasn’t clueless. Sure, he was naive at times, but he was smarter than most kids his age. He could sense the sentiment in Civil’s voice and the change in his body language. He didn’t complain was much as he had expected in the train. Something was bothering Civil, and when something bothered Civil, it was best to leave him to his thoughts. That was something Gold learned from his years with him.

“Hmm,” Gold began, making sure his voice was between naive and understanding. “Want to split up? We can just meet up here in... two hours?”

Civil’s dark eyes squinted at the boy. Sure, he wasn’t his parent, but he knew it wasn’t smart to let a kid wander off on his own.

As if reading his mind, Gold waved the problem off. “Don’t worry, I won’t talk to strangers and stuff.” He raised a thumbs up at Civil as he pocketed his box of chocolate sticks in his jacket. “Besides, this place is huge! I have a lot of places to see. You’ll only slow me down.”

Civil frowned. “No way am I leaving you alone,” he said, grabbing the collar of Gold’s jacket before he could run off. “You’ll just be a bigger pain in the ass if you get lost.”

“I won’t get lost.” Gold wriggled away from Civil’s hold and stepped away. Civil turned around and met Gold’s eyes, surprised at the maturity in them.

“I’ll be fine,” Gold said resolutely, another smile forming on his face. “Really.”

Civil studied this boy, and it hit him that Gold knew something was up with him. He looked away for a bit, embarrassed. God, was he really that obvious? He didn’t think he was an open book.

“Oh, okay,” he said, the collar of his dark coat muffling his words. “We’ll see each other in two hours.”

Gold nodded, and walked away before Civil could change his mind. He held his camera close to his chest as he began his picture taking. Sighing, Civil watched the kid until he disappeared in the crowds. Then he turned around to follow a path that led... well, he didn’t know.

It was only when he was walking alone on that path when he realized how much he wanted her walking with him.

After nearly an hour of sight seeing and asking people for directions, Civil sat down on the grassy slope, one knee bent with one arm casually rested on it.

He sighed, and took out a cigarette from his pocket as he watched the fountain sway in front of him. It was already a cold day, and sitting next to the fountain made it even colder. Once in a while, he’d feel the water droplets settle on his face after each jet of water shot up in the air.

After lighting his cigarette, he slowly leaned back and rested against the slope. He brought the thin stick to his lips and the small red flame at its end glowed as he took in its bitter taste. He looked up at the array of branches and persimmon leaves looming over him. A trail of smoke would rise from the tip of his cigarette and curl into the air before disappearing.

Exhale.

He closed his eyes. All he could hear were the noises from the city far away. But if he focused enough, he could close those sounds out. So he concentrated on the rustling leaves above him, the footsteps of people walking along the pathway, and the rush of water that shot from the fountain and rained back to the metal they came from.

He brought the cigarette to his lips.

Why am I here?

Inhale.

Why was he still asking himself?

Exhale.

He knew why.

Civil didn’t know how long he was asleep, but he knew he would have slept longer if it wasn’t for the large leaf that had landed on his face.

“Gold,” Civil hissed, jerking to his feet and scolding himself for losing track of time. He checked his watch and realized that he was thirty minutes late for their meet up time. He brushed off the leaves and grass that clung to his jacket as he ran for the crossroad they agreed to meet up at.

Running back wasn’t easy, either. He still had to ask people for directions once in a while to make sure he wasn’t getting lost. When he was sure he was heading for the right place, he was running past a large group of European tourists when he spotted something at the corner of his eye and stopped.

He spun around.

Was his mind playing tricks?

He slowly walked back, weaving through the same people he had run past. He was picking up his speed in every step he took. Soon, he was running again, frantically scanning each path that broke off from the main pathway.

There.

There was the dark green scarf he had given her, the one with the black and yellow tips. Her wavy russet hair still fell below her shoulders. Her hair bounced in every step she took down the stairs in a temple’s entrance.

Civil stopped, allowing the crowd of people to pass by, allowing the temple’s dark orange entrance to disappear from his view every other second. His eyes didn’t waver from their spot though. His arms hung at his sides, his fists were clenched; undecided on what to do.

He knew that there was a very small chance it was her. What were the odds of them meeting after nearly three years with no communication whatsoever? Was she really going to be at the exact same place, at the exact same time?

But still, he ran.

The odds were against him, he knew that. They were as many as the leaves that fell from the yellow green trees around him. Old stone statues of roaring dogs seemed to tell him that he was running in vain; that it wasn’t her and that he should just go back.

But still, he ran, hoping that the rays of sunlight that peaked between the leaves were on his side, that maybe, they’d make sure that it was her; that he was running to her.

He sprinted past tall, slender red-orange arches with thin, black characters painted on their pillars. He raced down ancient concrete stairs, the same stairs people had once used hundreds of years ago. The rustling leaves grew louder in his ears, until he reached the temple.

There she was, her back facing him, looking up at the large temple. She was admiring the intricate, gold and celadon green roof, the dark orange walls, with obvious scars of time marked against their sacred surfaces, and the weathered wooden fence that still stood tall.

Before he could even think, before he could hold himself back, he found his legs running toward her and grabbing her hand.

He felt his lips move. “Hey – “

He didn’t want to admit it, but every part of his body wanted it to be her. Every part of him was wishing that maybe, she was at the same place, at the same time; wishing that maybe just once, the odds weren’t against him, maybe things could work out.

So when it wasn’t her, every part of him was crushed.

“Nan ishiteru no?” The girl asked politely, although stepping away from the strange foreigner who had grabbed her hand.

At first Civil was just staring at her; shock, disappointment, anger, sadness mixed in his eyes. “Oh, sorry,” he breathed soon after; surprised he still had something in him to reply. “Um, gomenasai.”

Although there was obvious amusement in her voice at his accent, she nodded and left him alone, offering a small smile as she walked away.

Civil stood there for what seemed like hours, but it was only minutes. He allowed his feelings to simmer down to a manageable level before slowly walking back. He clutched his chest, feeling the poison of his cigarettes kicking in his lungs. Or maybe it was just total disappointment – but he preferred the former.

He was walking back up the steps when a gentle wind blew by, and he heard a chorus of clunking noises.

Civil looked back and noticed a dark brown arch, and hanging from it, were columns of small, rectangular wooden tablets. He approached it and realized that there were words written on each tablet. A majority of the tablets were written in Japanese, while the rest were in English or another language. It didn’t take long for Civil to conclude that written on each tablet was a wish or a prayer, some dated very recently, and some dated up to ten or fifteen years ago.

He wondered if any of the wishes were granted.

And maybe if he should leave one.

But looking back at what he just did, he realized there was no point.

Wishing, hoping, praying... didn’t seem to work for him.

He turned around and walked back up the steps, back under the golden trees, under the thin, red orange arches, and past the stone statues that had told him to turn back. They were right after all.

Civil found Gold, who didn’t look too bothered by having to wait. He was had an ice cream in one hand, and in the other, he was taking pictures of all the trees around him, as if he had just seen them for the first time. He turned around, his camera still pressed to his eye when he noticed Civil in his camera’s view.

“You’re late,” Gold said simply, lowering the camera.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Civil mumbled, walking up to him.

“It’s okay,” The young boy shrugged it off and took another lick. “Anyway, I was looking at this map, and there’s this really cool shrine – “

“Let’s go.”

Gold blinked. “What?”

“Let’s go,” Civil repeated, already walking past Gold for the exit. “I’m sick of this place.”

The boy caught up with him, making sure his ice cream wasn’t going to drip. “But just a while ago, you were saying – “

Civil stopped and turned around. “That was a while ago,” he said sternly, his voice rising. “Now, I hate this place, so let’s go.”

Gold sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You’re so grumpy.”

Civil didn’t reply. He just furrowed his brow in irritation at the number of people that were in his way. He glanced down at Gold, and it irritated him even more when a wave of guilt washed over him when he saw the boy’s cheerless face.

“Fine, fine,” Civil said loudly, stopping to turn around and face the boy again. “We can go to that city you wanted to go to tomorrow.”

“Really?” Gold asked, instantly brightening up.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, not willing to admit a part of him felt a bit better. “Just... finish your ice cream. We’re having a real lunch.”

“But you don’t know how to order food in these restaurants.”

“I can look at pictures.”

“But – “

“Just shut up, or you’re not eating anything.”

Gold laughed. “Okay, Civil.”

Another breeze blew past, brushing dark strands of Civil’s hair to fall from its ponytail. At the shrine, the columns of wooden tablets clunked against one another. All the prayers and wishes were whisked along with the wind, between the leaves and into the sky; wishing, hoping, and praying that maybe, they might be granted.

I saw a temple, I saw a shrine, even a couple of tombstones, but I was a little late for the cherry blossoms. The trees were nice, nonetheless. You would have loved it, I know. You probably would have had nearly two hundred pictures just of the trees.

Maybe you’ll see the cherry blossoms soon.

Or maybe you already have.

You know, I told myself I’d stop wishing, hoping, and praying that I could see them with you.

But I can’t.

author note.

So, as I said in the note above, I’m editing The Traveling Circus. Remember this sort of a prologue, so things are vague. I still can’t think of a good title and summary though, grah! But I want to answer a question I got before I edited the story.

Fresh Harvest: Do you have a lot of experience or have you done a lot of research about Japan? Or are you Japanese?

Nah, I’m not Japanese. But I’ve been to Japan, so I’m trying to write out all the things I saw, but some things are changed for the story’s sake. There were a lot more places I visited when I went to Japan, but I don’t think I can fit them all into the story. For the dialogue, I ask my Japanese friend. (:

Please, please review! (: