The Sky, the Sea, and a Song
Keishin had been to the beach only a handful of times in his life, and yet each time he strolled along the shore, a sense of familiarity washed over him and warmed him down to his toes. He rationalized the feeling as a result of man’s primordial connection to the sea, a carryover from the time when life emerged from the planet’s prebiotic soup. His toes were of a simpler school of thought, happy to simply accept that they liked the sea because they enjoyed the feel of the sand between them. Today they were bereft, taking it personally when Keishin denied them the pleasure of a stroll. This beach was unlike any he had ever visited. Here, where powder-fine sand ended, clouds lapped at the shore. Keishin crouched next to the puddle they had climbed out of and dipped his hand into the sky at his feet. Wisps of a cloud curled around his fingers. “Incredible…” he said, his voice more air than sound.
“You are lucky,” Hana said.
“Lucky?” Keishin stood up and brushed the sand from his pants.
“I cannot remember the last time I saw something and felt a sense of wonder. Unless you count the time I—” Hana’s eyes darted from Keishin to the clouds crashing into the sand like waves.
“Unless you count what?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on. You’ve just shared your deepest secret with complete strangers at a train station. This can’t be that bad. I can trade a secret for it if you want.”
“There is no need for a trade.”
“Good. I would hate to have to tell you all about the time I accidentally set fire to the lab. Go on then. When was the last time you saw something that left you in awe?”
“Not something.Someone.”
“Oh?”
“You.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because you broke every rule I knew.”
Keishin knitted his brows. “What rules?”
“Too many.”
“Name one.”
“Instead of pawning a choice, you offered me one. Until the day I die, I will never fully understand how you came to stand with me on this beach, helping me search for my parents.”
“You were a mystery to me too.” Kei took a step closer. They were running for their lives and searching for a dead woman, but all he saw was the halo of calm in Hana’s eyes and his face staring back at him from her irises. He envied his reflection. It could go where he could not. He wondered how many of Hana’s secrets it knew, a privilege he doubted he was ever going to share. No matter how close they stood, Hana was always a universe away. Without thinking, he reached out to touch her cheek, his oldest instincts compelling him to know the unknowable. It was softer than he’d imagined. “You still are.”
Hana looked away, hiding the blush that had formed where Keishin’s long fingers had grazed her skin. She pointed to agroup of wooden structures standing on stilts in the distance. “That is where we will catch our next ride.”
“Our ride. Right,” Keishin said, tearing his thoughts from Hana’s face. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “I don’t see any boats.”
“There aren’t any. Boats cannot travel on the Sky Sea.”
—
It was a village built on thick timber stilts, extending several houses from the shore. Weathered wooden planks connected one house to the next, forming a complex web of streets above the sea of clouds. Vendors hawked a universe of goods from colorful stalls along the streets, some items confounding Keishin with their possible use.
“Why is that man selling bottles of sand?” Keishin whispered in Hana’s ear. “And why are people buying it from him? They can just scoop some up from the shore for free.”
“That is not sand.” Hana picked up a bottle and offered it to Keishin. “It’s time. Not much, just a couple of minutes inside every bottle. Selling any more than that is forbidden. People like to take them along on trips in case their journey takes longer than expected and they run late.”
“Time?” Keishin held up the bottle and examined the little grains tumbling inside it.
“You do not see vendors selling it very often. It is quite rare. But sometimes pieces of time wash up on the shore. The vendors gather them up and sell them.”
“Wash up from where?”
