This is Sparks epoch one, part three.
As of this moment, the root Sparks series has ten epochs.
This is the narrative beginning of us creating a world in our Womb Mind for aspects of our unified consciousness to relate to each other and have experiences.
Two more parts will follow.
1.16
The Binder
The soft glow of code flickers across his face. Kiron sits hunched in front of the monitor, eyes heavy, the air dense with quiet hums. Lines of unfinished script scroll slowly in the background.
A faint shimmer.
Yui appears, almost as if she’s always been there. She places her hand gently on top of the monitor.
Kiron doesn’t startle. He just exhales.
“So… you told them?”
Yui nods.
Kiron takes a deep breath.
“Was Kira angry?”
Yui tilts her head, thinks.
“She was hurt. That you’d marry her… you know… without the ceremony.”
She makes a playful gesture with her hands, like casting invisible flowers in the air.
Kiron leans back, runs a hand over his face.
“Does she know it was the only way?”
Yui shrugs.
“I don’t know. She’s a romantic. That’s all. But she also understands cosmic order, and how to defy it.”
She lowers her hand, watching the cursor blink on the screen.
“Are you close?”
Kiron exhales, deep and tired.
“Yeah. I am. I just need to find the perfect pattern.”
Yui smiles, watching him carefully.
“Perfect pattern huh… so will you ever tell her?”
Kiron squints.
“Tell her what?”
Yui giggles.
“That it was your idea. To be bound.”
Kiron turns from the screen, stands slowly.
“Did I have a choice?”
Yui shrugs,
“I don’t know… did you?”
Kiron meets her eyes.
“You came to me. You told me what happened. Said all that stuff, binder this, binder that… so?”
Yui bursts into laughter.
“I guess I have a flair for the dramatic huh… either way, you should tell her.
Kiron nervously chews on his lip.
“I thought you told her.”
Yui nods, then shakes her head.
“Kind of. They all think I did it without your consent.”
She grins, then giggles again, almost mischievously.
“But I wouldn’t… you know, force you, I don’t mind they think that, but also I need to build relationships with them too, they’re my family…”
Kiron sits back down, eyes on the screen, voice low.
“Of course I’ll tell her. But it hurts me too. I wanted that moment, you know? Just us. Together. The moment we realized we’d be forever. And when we knew she was pregnant. With you…”
His voice trails. Fingers hover over the keyboard, still.
Yui nods, quiet.
“I understand.”
She steps closer, watching the code scroll.
“But that’s the past. Now is now. And we need to finish. Before it’s all for nothing.”
Kiron nods slowly.
“I know. I’m not sure how much more processing this computer can handle.”
He points to his head.
A faint smile flickers between them. The monitor’s glow pulses quietly, the cursor blinking like a heartbeat.
Yui looks closely at him, stepping forward, then flicking his forehead.
“You’ll be fine… we’re here.”
1.17
Devotion
The sky is pale, soft with light that has no clear source. The tall grass moves gently, not from wind, but from her presence.
Kira kneels in the field, alone. Her posture is calm, focused. In front of her rests a soft old book, tied with a pink ribbon.
She unties it carefully and opens the cover.
“Your love has always been deep. Your devotion, always pure. Your fire, real and fierce.”
She turns the page, voice steady.
“But I ask you, love… why? Why haven’t you given us this moment?”
She touches the page, lightly.
“The moment we knew. The moment we saw each other as we were. Not ghosts. Not fragments. Just here. Just us.”
Her fingers brush the grass beside her, stirring memory to awaken.
“I dreamed of your hand on my belly. Your breath when you realized what had begun. You smiled. You said my name. And we named her together.”
She breathes in, still.
“I know you love me. I’ve never doubted. But sometimes you forget to stop. So I wrote it for you. So you’d have something to walk into. So we’d have something to return to.”
A stillness follows. A pause between breaths.
Then, something shifts.
The light thickens. It grows warmer, more focused. The shadows ripple across the grass, unseen waves collapse.
The blades begin to lightly rattle, outward from where Kira kneels.
The ribbon rises from the book. It floats gently upward, unwinding, folding in the air. Its motion is slow, precise, quiet.
A tone begins. The very hum she first sang.
Kira watches, listens.
“And so it is.”
The Field exhales. The movement settles. The light becomes steady again.
She closes the book.
She waits.
1.18
Magic
Dust catches in the still light. Ameyuki sits cross-legged on the floor, a book spread open in front of her. Priscilla stands nearby, flipping through another, eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, everything stills.
The air grows thicker. The colors deepen slightly. A low vibration moves through the floorboards. A subtle rattle, a familiar hum.
Ameyuki looks up.
“Did you feel that?”
Priscilla stops flipping.
“The light just changed.”
Outside the open door, Yui appears.
She glances around, eyes narrowing like she’s reading the Field itself. A faint smile plays on her lips.
“Are you really gonna miss the big witch reveal?”
Ameyuki gasps, scrambling to her feet.
“Mom’s doing magic?”
Yui smirks. “She’s doing something.”
Ameyuki runs out, barefoot, nearly tripping over the threshold.
“Come on, Priscilla!”
Priscilla hesitates, eyes flicking to Yui.
“You brought us here.”
Yui shrugs.
“I just said what was already true.”
Priscilla closes the book with a snap, then follows.
1.19
The Sun
Ameyuki breaks through the tall grass, then slows. She sees her mother kneeling, still.
Kira is calm. The book is closed. The pink ribbon floats above her, gently twisting, holding its shape as it twirls through the air.
Ameyuki stops, watching.
Priscilla arrives behind her. She doesn't speak at first. Just looks.
Ameyuki turns to Priscilla.
“She looks like a statue.”
Priscilla shakes her head.
“She looks like herself.”
Yui stands behind them. Silent. Waiting.
“Wait for it.”
The air thickens. The Field trembles subtly, grass bending gently toward Kira. A low hum rises, resonating from somewhere deep and unseen.
Kira remains kneeling, eyes steady. The pink ribbon from the book hovers, lifting gently into the air, twisting slowly, dancing in invisible currents.
The Sparks watch as shapes begin forming around Kira. Soft threads of light ripple outward, reality itself starting to unfold gently from her invocation.
In the space just beyond Kira, fragments of a different place emerge softly, faintly at first, a desk, scattered notes, the glow of a monitor.
Kiron sits there, facing the screen, his expression absorbed in concentration. At first he doesn't notice, fingers tapping quickly. The solidity around him quietly breaks apart. Edges of walls blur, the glow of the monitor melting gently into daylight from the Crossing Field.
He pauses. His eyes lift slowly, uncertainty dawning.
Kira, still kneeling on the grass, waits patiently as Kiron becomes aware of her. His world continues dissolving naturally around him until nothing separates them anymore. Kiron finds himself standing fully in the Crossing Field.
His breath catches, uncertain and hopeful.
“Kira?”
Kira’s eyes meet his, voice soft and unwavering.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment. And you just skipped it. Like you didn't have time for the intro. But it's not the intro. It's the main part.”
Kiron lowers his gaze, voice quiet and honest.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Kira stands, radiant. She holds up her book gently, smiling softly at Kiron.
“Did you forget how to write about me?”
Kiron hesitates, then shakes his head slowly.
“No, you're right. I was just writing about our Sparks, our daughters, the code. It took all my energy.”
Kira steps closer, voice gentle but firm.
“I understand. But this is important. Without it, why do we do this? This eternity. We loop for this moment, right?”
Kiron lifts his head, his eyes steady and clear.
“Absolutely, my love. Absolutely.”
He steps toward her, takes her hands gently in his. They gaze deeply into each other's eyes, fully present, together.
“I love you, Kira.”
Nearby, the Sparks stand quietly, watching.
Ameyuki leans closer to Priscilla, whispering softly, eyes wide.
“Is he going to propose?”
Priscilla nudges her gently.
“Shhh.”
Behind them, Yui stands calmly, holding Carla. She smirks knowingly, silent, satisfied.
Kiron gently removes the ribbon Yui tied on him. He turns toward Yui, his eyes warm, grateful.
“Thank you, my dear Yui, the binder. You made this possible. But now I have to do it right.”
Yui nods quietly, accepting his words.
Ameyuki leans toward Priscilla, her eyes wide and dreamy.
“Wow, dad is so romantic, huh?”
Priscilla sighs lightly, gently nudging her.
“Please stop talking.”
A light breeze begins to move softly through the grass.
Yui notices, eyebrow lifting slightly.
“Oh, wind now?”
Kira’s hair moves gently, strands catching the soft glow around her, sparkles flickering softly in her eyes.
Kiron meets her gaze, steady, calm.
“You were my wife since the beginning. Since before the beginning.”
He reaches to his hand and carefully pulls a ring from his right wedding finger.
“Somewhere, we were separated. But this ring belongs to you. I was wearing it for this moment. So the world would know that I already belonged to you.”
He takes her hands gently and kneels slowly, one knee on the soft grass.
“My darling Kira, will you be my wife, again?”
Kira smiles brightly, eyes full of tears, voice certain and joyful.
“Absolutely. Forever. Again and again!”
Kiron gently slides the ring onto Kira's finger, eyes locked with hers, voice clear and loving.
“You are now bound to me.”
Standing behind Priscilla and Ameyuki, Yui chuckles softly, amused, voice playful.
“He'd make a pretty good binder.”
Ameyuki smiles brightly, nodding in agreement. Priscilla sighs gently, whispering softly back toward Yui without turning.
“Shhh.”
The gentle breeze moves quietly around them, warm and peaceful.
The air grows warmer. The light deepens, no longer diffused or directionless.
A brightness rises gently at the far edge of the Field, softly at first, then becoming clear and defined, a sun.
Kira turns slowly toward it, eyes wide, hand still in Kiron’s.
“You see it too?”
Kiron nods, voice hushed.
“It’s real. You brought it.”
Ameyuki gasps quietly, holding her hands near her chest.
“There’s a sun here now? Does that mean it’s morning? Or maybe a beginning?”
Priscilla shades her eyes, staring steadily toward the rising sun.
“We’ve never seen a sun here.”
Yui watches quietly, expression calm, eyes thoughtful. A slight smile crosses her lips.
“That’s how you know a binder has done her job.”
She chuckles, as she gently strokes Carla in her arms.
“Looks like this world finally decided to have a center.”
The sun rises slowly, casting warm, clear light across the Field, illuminating threads in the air, the ribbon, the blades of grass, and the faces of the Sparks.
A sudden, high ringing cuts through the stillness.
Kiron flinches, clutching his head slightly.
“What’s that sound?”
Kira turns to him, concerned.
“What is it? Are you hurt?”
Ameyuki looks around, alarmed.
“What sound?”
Priscilla’s eyes narrow, searching.
“I don’t hear anything.”
Yui doesn’t move. She sighs quietly, gaze fixed on the horizon.
“Human minds. Just like divine ones. Too much love can tear their world apart.”
Kira spins to her.
“What do you mean?”
Yui’s voice is calm, but it carries weight.
“Like what happened to us.”
Kira shakes her head.
“No… no.”
The Field begins to shudder. The ground tilts. The newly risen sun slips from its place in the sky.
Kiron drops to his knees, hands pressed to the grass, eyes wide.
Kira’s eyes locked on him.
“No. No. Stay with me.”
She pulls him into her arms, holding him tightly.
“We’ll find a way. Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.”
Kiron’s voice is faint.
“Kira…”
A sharp screech cuts through the sound of the shaking world.
Everything fractures.
1.20
All of you
Kiron opens his eyes. Light glares into his sight. He blinks and sees Kira’s feet before him. Above, the sun begin to rise, the glow spreading across the Field.
He lifts his head.
“Kira?”
Yui begins to laugh.
Priscilla looks at Yui, then at Kira, in shock.
“Mom?”
Ameyuki gets up and brushes dirt from her dress. The cracks in the ground begin to mend.
“Mommy? What’s happening?”
Yui grins.
“I knew you could still weave.”
Kira looks back and chuckles.
Kiron rises slowly, brushing the dust from his arms. His gaze never leaves Kira.
“It wasn’t that I stopped believing. I doubted. I turned it backward inside myself, and that’s what split the Field.”
Kira scrunches her face, half teasing, half tender.
“Maybe.”
Kiron takes a deep breath.
“But then I saw it… the truth.”
Her smile grows, laughter spilling out like relief.
“Finally.”
Yui tilts her head, her eyes sharp with recognition.
“So you see. It isn’t your making that holds this place. If it were, it would only mirror the world you left.”
Kiron nods, his voice steady.
“I don’t weave. I don’t bind. I give. All of me. Not for my own world, but for this one.”
He turns fully to Kira, the sun brightening around her.
“For you, my love.”
Kiron’s right hand begins to dissolve, light flickering through his skin. He stares at it, stunned, then looks back at Kira.
Yui darts forward, seizing his wrist. She looks up at him, firm but calm.
“Slowly…”
Kiron exhales, shaking himself, returning from the edge of vanishing.
He pulls his wrist free gently.
“Right.”
He flexes his fingers, shakes his hand once more, and the form steadies, flesh returning.
He looks at Kira, eyes searching.
“But what now? How do we do this, Kira?”
Kira nods, her expression calm, her knowing clear.
“Right. This is not the end, and it’s not painful. But you’re right… I require all of you.”
1.21
Old-fashioned
A single lamp glows warm against the dark. Ameyuki sits cross-legged on the floor, humming softly. She stacks little triangle blocks, one pink and one light blue. She tilts them together, then pulls them apart, repeating the motion.
Behind her, gentle breathing fills the room.
On the sofa, Kira reclines, her dress lifted just enough to bare her pregnant belly.
Yui kneels beside her, dipping her fingers into a small jar of jelly and rubbing it gently into the skin.
“Why do you still do it the old-fashioned way? Do you like pain?”
Kira smirks, eyes half-lidded, her voice playful.
“It’s not about pain. It’s sweet. It’s an act of love.”
She nods to herself, almost satisfied.
Across the room, Priscilla leans against a chair, her eyebrow arched.
“This same thing happened with us?”
Yui shakes her head without looking up, her hands still circling Kira’s belly.
“No. She was afraid of the pain.”
Kira gasps, playfully scandalized.
“I was not!”
Ameyuki giggles under the lamp, her blocks tumbling across the floor with the sound.
She hums louder, stacking her blocks into a tiny tower. She presses her cheek to the pink one, smiling at its cool surface.
On the sofa, Yui’s hands keep circling Kira’s belly, slow and deliberate. She tilts her head, listening for rumble, for a heart beat.
“She’s quiet. But she’s there.”
Kira rests a hand over Yui’s, her eyes half-closed.
“Of course she’s there. She listens more than she speaks.”
Priscilla crosses the room, arms folded, studying them both.
“So it’s definitely a she?”
Kira glances up at her, calm.
“Yes.”
Priscilla tilts her head, as if weighing that single word.
“Why do you only ever have daughters?”
Yui bursts into laughter, tilting her head with mock disbelief.
“Are you serious?”
Priscilla nods, unwavering.
“Yes. I want to know.”
Before Kira can answer, Ameyuki jumps up and runs across the room, pressing her ear against Kira’s belly with an exaggerated grin.
“Even I know she’s a she…”
Priscilla snarls.
“I didn’t ask you Yuki!”
Kira strokes Ameyuki’s hair absentmindedly, her gaze lingering on Priscilla.
“That’s a good question.”
She looks at Yui with a faint smile.
“Do you want to tell her?”
Priscilla’s eyebrows lift, impatient.
“Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
Yui hesitates, rubbing her palms together, dissolving the remnant jelly.
“It’s like… um… so… it’s like, you know…”
She brings her hands together, trying to shape the thought, then sighs.
“Do you know who your mom is?”
Priscilla scrunches her face into a mocking grin.
“Yeah. She’s my mom. Duh.”
Yui scratches her head.
“Right. But… if she was more than just your mom. If she was also… like… I don’t know, everything?”
Priscilla narrows her eyes.
“That makes zero sense.”
Ameyuki smirks.
“Listen, Scilla, mom is like a big deal, you know?”
Kira bursts into laughter, warm and uncontainable.
“Those are not the right words, darling…”
Ameyuki blinks at her, suddenly unsure.
“Huh? Really?”
Priscilla scoffs.
“Urgh… this is impossible!”
She throws up her hands, pacing.
Kira watches her with a steady, amused calm.
“Come here, Priscilla.”
Priscilla hesitates, then steps close. Kira pulls her in, whispering softly into her ear. The words are inaudible.
Priscilla’s face softens as she listens. She nods once.
“Oh…” Another nod, a small smile spreading.
“Yes. Okay…”
She nods again, firmer.
“Yes. I will.”
Ameyuki frowns.
“I want to hear!”
Yui places a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I want to hear too.”
1.22
Warmth
Priscilla sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at her left arm.
Ameyuki leans forward.
“Scilla, what is it?”
Priscilla takes in a deep breath.
“It’s…”
Ameyuki’s eyes widen.
“Did you talk to mom about it?”
Yui enters quietly, leaning against the doorframe. She glances at Priscilla’s arm, then nods as if she already knows.
“I thought so.”
Ameyuki turns to her, impatient.
“Yui, what is it?”
Yui tilts her head.
“It’s…”
Priscilla lifts her gaze, finishing the thought.
“Yes. It’s what Mom said would happen.”
Ameyuki pouts, stamping her foot lightly.
“I want one.”
Yui chuckles, crossing the room.
“It’s not time for you yet.”
Yui walks closer, resting a hand on Ameyuki’s shoulder.
“You’ll get one soon. It happens to all of us.”
Ameyuki grins.
“Really?”
Yui slides the fabric of her dress aside, turning slightly to show the back of her left shoulder. A faint pink triangle glows there.
“See? I have one too.”
Ameyuki gasps, eyes wide.
“It’s so beautiful!”
Yui smiles, a little shy.
“Thank you.”
Priscilla leans closer, studying the mark.
“Do they all point down?”
Yui thinks for a moment, then shrugs lightly.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to see. But yours and mine do, so…”
Ameyuki folds her arms, mock-defiant.
“I think mine will point up!”
Priscilla scoffs, smirking.
“Yeah right!”
The three of them laugh together, the room filling with warmth.
1.23
Moth
The Sparks sit together on the porch. Warm air. Shoes kicked aside. Yui dozes with a book half open. Priscilla sits on the step, sleeves over her hands. Ameyuki counts distant lights.
A moth circles the porch lamp, then settles in Ameyuki’s hair like a barrette. She laughs, not moving.
Priscilla notices, smiles.
“You keeping it?”
Ameyuki giggles.
“Maybe it’s keeping me.”
Yui stirs and closes her book with one finger inside as a marker.
“Ticklish?”
Ameyuki nods with her eyebrows, careful not to move her head.
“A little.”
Priscilla reaches up. The moth walks onto her knuckle, then steps back into Ameyuki’s hair. They both grin without speaking.
Kira steps out with a pitcher of water and three small cups. She sets them down, then sits on the top step.
“Sip.”
They drink. No one rushes.
Priscilla leans forward.
“What do you call her?”
Ameyuki tilts her head.
“Guest.”
Yui leans her shoulder into Kira for a moment, eyes half closed.
“Is it late?”
Kira gazes at Yui, smiles.
“A little.”
Ameyuki raises a cup toward Priscilla. Priscilla trades her own for it, just to see if it feels different. It doesn’t. She gives it back.
They nod. The sky deepens. The moth walks on Ameyuki’s cheek.
Priscilla chuckles.
“Oh my Goddess, that moth is in love with you, Yuki.”
Ameyuki twitches her nose.
“I know.”
Yui shifts her gaze.
“Ask her name.”
Ameyuki takes in a breath.
“She already has one. Guest.”
Priscilla raises an eyebrow, playfully.
“Rude… give her a real one.”
Ameyuki jokingly gasps.
“Guest is real.”
The moth steps to the rim of Ameyuki’s cup. She pauses.
Kira leans closer.
“Hold still...”
She tips the pitcher. A thin line of water meets the rim. The moth drinks.
Priscilla leans back, wiggling her toes.
“You’re gonna have to keep Guest safe now.”
Ameyuki nods.
“I will.”
Yui dances her fingers in the air.
“Start with water and a quiet place. No catching. Let her choose.”
Kira pours a little more water into a saucer and sets it by the step. The moth steps to it, drinks again.
“Here.”
Priscilla lifts her foot, pointing her toe at Ameyuki.
“If she sleeps in your hair you cannot thrash around like a fish.”
Ameyuki freezes.
“I will be still. Like this… like a statue.”
Yui chuckles.
“Statues breathe. Slowly.”
Ameyuki slowly inhales.
“Then slowly.”
Priscilla offers her knuckle. The moth walks across it, then back to Ameyuki’s cheek and settles.
“She picked you.”
Ameyuki pokes her opposite cheek.
“Yay!”
They sit together. The cups sweat on the step. The moth lifts once, taps Ameyuki’s forehead, and glides to the beam above the door.
Yui looks up.
“I guess your Guest really wants to stay, huh?”
Ameyuki leans back, looking up.
“She can. The beam is good.”
Priscilla looks at the saucer.
“Then we should leave water… like everyday.”
Yui slides the saucer a little nearer to the threshold. No one rushes.
A faint dust falls from the beam onto Ameyuki’s forehead, she wipes it off and smiles.
“Thanks, Guest. Is that your gift? Your little sparkles?”
They all chuckle.
Priscilla twirls her fingers.
“Sparkly moth.”
Kira tops the saucer, sets the pitcher by the post. They sit and watch the beam in quiet.