Young Writers Society

It was like all of the air had been taken from her lungs. She choked on her next breath in, sputtering and coughing. After her coughing fit, Asha gazed up at the stars in awed silence. Yuni loved her.

It was such an unfamiliar feeling. No one had loved her before. Not really. That was love born of obligation and duty. Yuni loved her for something more than that. Asha didn’t quite know what or why, but it didn’t matter. Because Asha thought that she loved Yuni too.

Somehow, that realization didn’t feel as much of a shock. Of course she loved Yuni. She had started to a long time ago, even if she hadn’t realized it. She continued to stare at the sky. Yuni loved her.

Slowly, the ground began to feel hard against her back and she sat up. The awe began to fade, and Asha remembered their last conversation. Guilt, unlike anything she had felt before, began to throb in her stomach.

The light of the full moon, not nearly at its highest in the sky, shone directly across the courtyard. It was too serendipitous to be real. The mark Yuni had shown Asha, the symbol of her name, was illuminated by the light.

In a trance, Asha rose and dried her clothes with magic, tiny droplets of water jumping off of the fabric and spraying on the ground. She crossed the pond, unconsciously freezing patches of water in ice to support each step. An ethereal glow that could have been a trick of the moonlight surrounded Asha. Reverently, she stroked the symbol with her fingertips, aware of every grain and grove in the wood.

She stepped up onto the porch and removed her shoes. With silence she didn’t know she possessed, she eased open the fragile paper door. A glow so dim that even the translucent paper of the door had concealed it emanated from the middle of the room, a dark figured huddled next to it.

Asha stepped onto the grass mats that made up the floor and slid the door shut. Outside, a cricket began to chirp. With gentle footsteps, she made her way over to Yuni. A small lantern burned in the middle of the floor, lighting Yuni’s slack face. Asha’s stomach panged with guilt as she noticed the dried tear tracks on her face. Her long hair was unbound and shining in the lamplight.

Willing energy into her fingertips to warm them, she stroked Yuni’s face. Yuni’s nose wrinkled and her eyes fluttered, but she remained asleep. A futon piled with expensive looking blankets and pillows lay in the corner. Taking a deep breath, Asha knelt down, sliding her arms underneath Yuni’s limp form. She was much lighter than Asha anticipated. How could so much strength be contained in such a small body?

Carefully, she stood up. Yuni’s hair almost reached the floor from Asha’s arms. Once again, Yuni’s nose crinkled, but she opened her eyes, blinking in confusion.

“Asha?” she asked, voice thick with sleep.

Asha hushed her. “Go back to sleep, Yuni,” she whispered.

“But you were mad at me.” Yuni sniffled, and she bit her bottom lip.

“I’m not anymore,” Asha said, starting to walk. “It’s okay.”

“No,” Yuni said, eyes starting to glisten. “I was mean.”

Asha set her down in the bed. “I forgive you,” she said, tucking the blankets around her.

“But-”

Asha hushed her again. “Shut your mouth.” She leaned in and pressed her mouth to Yuni’s. A tiny sound came from Yuni’s throat, unable to make it past her lips. The kiss was chaste, but Asha’s heart was racing. Yuni was looking up at her-- such an unfamiliar sight for Yuni to be the one to look up-- eyes wide and still glistening.

“Asha,” she breathed. Asha stood up to leave, but a hand tugged on the skirt of her dress. Yuni looked up at her with that same expression. It felt like she couldn’t look too long or she’d become unable to breathe. “Stay.”

Asha knelt back down, and Yuni shifted over to make room for her. After Asha had slid under the covers, Yuni laid her head on Asha’s chest.

“You knew?” Yuni asked.

“Today,” Asha said. “But I loved you for much longer.”

“You love me,” Yuni whispered in an awed voice Asha wasn’t sure was meant for her ears.

“Yes,” Asha said. “So much.”

But Yuni didn’t reply. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut against the light from the lantern, face half hidden in Asha’s chest. Asha smiled fondly and doing the last magic of the day, snuffed out the flame in the lantern.