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Calamity was the misfortune of soldiers on the front lines, torn piece by piece. Calamity was the strife that left a person clutching their chest without explanation.
A girl met calamity. She was no princess, priestess, knight, or hero. She was no different from any girl that someone saw in the street. But she tried to save calamity, and her price was her existence broken into two halves.
Calamity existed as a thought in a human’s mind: merely something that culls. Calamity is drowning tides and wildfire’s rage, the protector of some, the terror of others. Calamity is fickle. Calamity tears those who break the world and its people. Every companion of it died or left, except for its stray shadow. The first time the girl and calamity met brought disaster, and never stopped bringing more.
But calamity as chaos decides the eye of the storm. It can pick a boy to shelter and forge. Calamity is chaos incarnate, but it is also the playful soul, looking for a roof.
The world is fickle. People pray to war for the glory, honor, and righteousness of violence. Men wish for wealth. Children pray for learning. Guardsmen seek glory. But few people wish calamity. It’s a name remembered only by a few and hated by most.
Calamity must fight. Because the violence calamity caused a year ago was a typhoon, nothing more. That death calamity brought behind bars was just an unfortunate day for a felon. Wounds heal and mistakes are forgotten. Calamity must fight against time itself.
Calamity may be strife, discord, and death. But not all glass is clear, and not all rain is sorrow. Calamity is nothing more than a human word—a way to label death, disappearance, and violence. But humans change, words merge, and then calamity is something else. Something that rules over the tyrants, something terrifying to vanquish terror. Calamity may tear the heavens in half, but calamity is also a watcher of the night—calamity to the thoughts that make men hate each other. Calamity is the good luck that comes when falling to the ground, yet still avoiding the pain. However, some things remain the same. A stone dropped into a lake will find that the lake will smooth its presence with time. Humans still forget to stop and think about how beautiful the world can be without pain.
The longer the girl and calamity stayed away from each other, the more calamity slipped from her mind. She was terrified of losing its playfulness, mysteriousness, and loyalty.
Change is difficult for anyone. Water must endure the burning sun to rise. And calamity must suffer too. The people who went close to it were torn to shreds. Perhaps the girl never understood who calamity was until she saw it herself. But she did not forsake calamity. And calamity could never let her go.
It took the girl so long to admit. But there’s something beautiful about calamity in its harmless chaos that kept the world interesting. There’s a charm in its inability to let go of anything in its embrace. She meant it when she said she wanted to stay with calamity as long as she was alive.
It wasn’t logical to love calamity, just like it wasn’t logical to marry the force that makes leaves fall. Knowledge gave advice and warned her. The follower of war told her to stay away. But it was true. She loved the winds that sent enemies away from those calamity wished to protect. She loved disaster to disaster before it struck.
A girl loved calamity. She wondered if calamity could even love her back.
She so quickly brushed with death, for herself, for calamity, and the man who thought of such misfortune into existence. Calamity named her yet let her go, near the white cherry flowers sending snow-like petals into the air. It fought to keep her alive. So, she was swept into the near shore once more. The souls she met on the other side stayed away. There, her memories of calamity leapt into the fog.
She sits under the white cherry trees at night. The sky is dark, but clear, with the pinpricks of stars. A scent follows her everywhere she goes. She wants to chase it for the rest of her life.
Sometimes, with the chaos of the world around her, she forgets to stop and think. It’s not a mistake she makes today. Because today, there are so many reasons to be happy. Because today, disaster doesn’t strike.
Calamity watches over her in the night. It waits for nothing; it stays content with seeing her happy. She looks up to the expanse of the sky. There, she sees him.