Oct 30, 1803
"The bridge between our world and the realm of spirits is at its strongest during the blue moon."
At six years old, Dan remembered his Pa, mapping out the constellations with his fingertips and weaving tales about the midnight sun in hushed tones.
He remembered gazing into the cyan hues of the moon up above, alluring in its mystery and beguiling in its frigidity.
He remembered the smoke and lights from the cotton factory in the distance gradually tilting into darkness.
He remembered his brother's scream.
"I'm afraid he's ill with Desiderium. A spirit has latched onto him, and five blue moons from today, his soul will be taken to the other side."
June 30, 1806
"It's another one of those blasted nights. Ben, don't bother your brother. He needs his rest. Dan, go to bed and don't look outside, alright?"
The night was as long as sleep was elusive, and not just due to the cold draft seeping into his bed. Despite his Ma's warnings, he couldn't help but slip out of his sheets and wander towards the window, a bag of candies his friends had gifted upon hearing of his ailment squeezed tightly in his hands.
The moon. Unmistakably cerulean in its path across the sky that night.
It was then that a creature appeared, wispy and translucent in a way that spoke more of a child's attempt to conceptualise disease and death than an actual being. It bore human hair and human eyes, but there was nothing human about the saxe tint to its skin.
"Are you the thing that'll take me away?"
It simply gazed back at Dan, impassive and indifferent as the moon that fateful night.
"Why did you have to come and ruin our lives? Ma treats me like I'm made of glass now. Pa's been gone searching the whole country for a cure."
The increasingly deafening silence only grated on Dan's fragile patience.
"SAY SOMETHING!"
"Five years. Five years of frolicking across the continent - of leaving me a single mother to our children - and you're giving up on our son? You're utterly pathetic and I haven't the slightest clue why I agreed to marry you!"
Jan 31, 1809
‘Pa' became a forbidden word in the household, laid to gather dust in its disuse the same as Dan's rolling hoop and clay marbles.
The next blue moon came and went with little eventfulness, just weariness and a quiet undercurrent of dread.
‘It' returned. Silent as a criminal on death row.
"Yesterday, Ben said he hates me. He said it's my fault Father left and Ma's always busy. H-He said they'd all be better off if I d-died now and saved everyone the trouble."
"Are you happy now? Are you happy that Ma and Ben and I are all miserable?"
"I loathe you."
"Maybe your father was right, Ben. There's nothing we can do for Dan but await the inevitable. Perhaps I was...hasty, in blaming him and pushing him away."
Mar 31, 1809
"Ma says this is a sign." Dan didn't know why he wasted his breath on a figure who would never respond. But it wasn't like he was blessed with an abundance of conversation partners.
"She says there's no point fighting it anymore. She says it's hopeless." A bitter, sour feeling strangled his chest and wrinkled his nose, forcing his shallow breaths into desperate heaves.
"...She's giving up on me, isn't she?"
Whatever expression twisted the figure's face at his words had long since blurred beneath his tears.
"Please, please, I'm begging you, don't take me away...I don't want to die." The admission was choked out as a garbled whisper, the desperate plea of a dying child carried by the winter wind and dissipated in the distance.
"Did you know? Meg's younger son, he's ill with some deadly disease. And...I hear it's contagious."
"Don't take a single step out of this room. Don't speak a single word to my son. If you hate this family so much that you'd rather run away with some spirit, then why don't you just leave already?"
Oct 31, 1811
His voice now came out slightly raspy from the same disuse that had plagued his childhood playthings. Every strained syllable seemed to mock his current state: an abandoned toy that had fallen into desuetude after overstaying its welcome.
"I must have truly hit rock bottom, to look forward to seeing your repulsive face." Dan chuckled morbidly.
"But talking to you is just marginally better than talking to myself, and I don't want to die unable to speak."
"Say, I've become slightly fond of you over the years; have you grown even a little fond of me? Enough to want to spare my life?"
Again his words were greeted with silence, but instead of the turbulent rage that had characterised his childhood, he simply laughed.
"Guess not. Well, it was worth a try."
"Ben? Oh, you mean Meg's only child?"
Aug 30, 1814
Dan savoured the last crumbs of his bread, watching the blue moon cross the sky once more. Normally he would make sure to store at least half of his food, in case his mother forgot to leave him dinner the next day.
He didn't blame her, of course. It was easy to miss out on the corpse living in her attic.
But there was no purpose in saving crumbs for a day that would never come.
‘He' appeared before Dan once more.
"Could I at least know the name of the one who is taking me away? You've been a terribly ill-mannered suitor this entire time."
He could've just been deluding himself - unlikely as that was since his fear of death had long since given way to a solemn acceptance - but he could've sworn there was a lingering sadness behind the stranger's eyes.
"My name is Yuzu."
Dan blinked once, twice, in disbelief; he opened his mouth about to ready another retort when Yuzu continued.
"And by revealing my name, I have given up all claim to your soul."
"A rose that is plucked withers within the hour whereas one blooming in a garden can last a lifetime. So in exchange, when you finally cross over to the other side, I hope you'll have some interesting tales to tell."
And as abruptly as he barged into Dan's life, the man - Yuzu - disappeared without a trace.
"Dan? Dan, you're still...You're still alive...By the gods, it's a miracle!"
May 30, 1817
"You're really not coming anymore?" Dan sat by his window, his stare boring into the moon as though confirming to himself that it was, in fact, blue.
"It's been three years and I'm still not used to it. After years of scoffing every time she passed by me, a girl in town told me she loved me. That she's always loved me. Mother's busying herself with my birthday coming up and the courtship and..."
"I'm still...me, right? But suddenly instead of a waste of space, I'm an ideal husband and a dutiful son and a wonderful friend."
"I just wonder: is any of this real, if it all comes and goes so easily?"
He barked out a laugh, a hoarse and hollow sound.
"Now I'm just talking to myself. I've truly become pathetic."
The sky had just begun to darken as Dan treaded the path back to his childhood home after a visit to his fiancée's parents. The lake that he once boated on with his father came into view after the bend, shimmering blue under the dim glow of the stars.
And the moon, pale yellow as it was in the sky, was reflected in the waters as an azure ring.
He didn't know exactly what crossed his mind in the moment. It had all jumbled together into a mess of action, of leaving his shoes and socks by the reeds and wading his way into the cold water.
As the final gasp of breath left his lungs, he closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper, pulled by the tides of gravity into a foreign but familiar embrace.
In that instant, there were no thoughts, no doubts, no regrets.
Only peace.
Desiderium: An ardent desire or longing; especially for something once had.