The carriage swayed gently on the journey home, like an endless lullaby.
Tulia leaned against the window, her mind still scattered.
She propped up her head with her hand, her gaze falling on the scenery flowing outside the window. Those blue eyes, usually so lively, were empty now, as if all her emotions had burned away in last night’s fit of sobbing.
Her head gradually drooped, nodding with the rise and fall of the carriage.
Sophia sat opposite her, hardly daring to breathe.
Her gaze followed Tulia closely. She wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but her reaching hand always withdrew halfway. She was afraid that any of her actions would break this fragile peace and bring about Tulia’s loathing of her.
Without realizing it, Tulia succumbed to her exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep against the window.
Sophia’s heart tightened along with the swaying rhythm.
She could no longer hold back.
She moved over slowly, her movements gentle, for fear of waking Tulia from her dream.
Then, she reached out and carefully pulled the sleeping girl into her embrace.
Sophia’s arms were stiff; she didn’t dare use force, yet she didn’t dare let go.
In her sleep, Tulia seemed to feel a warmer and more stable support. She unconsciously curled her body and rubbed against Sophia’s chest. Finding a more comfortable position, her breathing became longer and steadier.
Sophia’s body trembled.
In an instant, time slowed down — so slow that she could count every rise and fall of the breathing person in her arms.
The sound of wheels rolling over the road and the rhythmic clatter of hooves became distant background noise.
Her world shrank to this swaying carriage, to the warm weight in her arms.
‘Let this road be a little longer,’ she thought silently. ‘Let it be so long that the end can’t be seen, so long that this journey never ends.’
She was willing to trade everything — exchange the temperature in her embrace, exchange this moment of peace, and exchange every breath Tulia took in her arms.
But she also understood that this was only temporary.
When the carriage stopped and Tulia woke up, everything would return to the beginning.
But at least for now, she was needed — even if it was only an unconscious reliance in a dream.
She looked down at Tulia’s sleeping profile. The sharp edges became soft in her sleep.
This was a look she hadn’t seen in a long time — no defensiveness and no distance. It was just like many years ago, before she had ruined everything.
Sophia maintained this position, which was not actually comfortable, letting half of her body go numb without moving.
Her arm was sore from the pressure, but she enjoyed it. This soreness allowed her to feel the reality of the slight weight in her arms.
Since hearing that heartbreaking crying through the door last night, she hadn’t dared to imagine that she could ever be this close to Tulia again.
Every second of tenderness felt as if it were stolen.
‘Will this hug be the last time?’
This thought was like a needle, piercing the softest corner of her heart.
Sophia involuntarily tightened her arms, circling the person in her embrace more closely, as if she could keep what she craved this way.
She also looked up and out the window.
Her gaze had no focus, falling blankly on the receding scenery.
Fields, trees, and distant mountains slid backward at a steady speed. Time seemed to pass at the same rate.
A thought appeared in her heart.
‘Let this bumping continue. Let this journey be endless. Let me stay forever in this swaying, narrow, and world-filling space. Even if it is only a momentary illusion.’
***
A sudden bump jolted Tulia from her chaotic dream.
The first thing she felt was the wild pounding of her heart.
It was like a startled bird, crashing violently and haphazardly inside her chest.
*Thump-thump, thump-thump —*
The sound was heavy and urgent, like a drum, making her eardrums buzz and drowning out all the sounds of the carriage.
It felt like… she had a terrible nightmare.
Someone seemed to have died in the dream. The scene was blurry and oppressive, filled with powerless despair.
She remembered trying to start over again and again in the dream, wanting to change the outcome. She reached out, running and shouting desperately, but every time, she could only watch the blood spread, eventually falling into silence… It was useless.
The sensation was so real and heavy that it made her unable to breathe. The throbbing in her heart was a continuation of that desperate struggle.
But… who was that person?
Tulia frowned, trying hard to remember, but her heart rate didn’t slow down. It kept pounding with an empty, hurried rhythm.
For a moment after waking, that face seemed clearly imprinted in her mind, carrying a familiar and painful feeling.
But now, when she tried to catch it and see whose face it was, it was as if a thick fog suddenly obscured the memory. She couldn’t remember no matter what.
Only her heart remained, beating futilely and heavily in her chest, responding to an unprovoked sense of loss and grief.
‘I remembered it just a moment ago…’
She sat there blankly, her eyes still a bit scattered. She subconsciously raised her hand to press against her chest, as if trying to hold down that restless heart that leaked all her panic.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
Sophia’s lowered voice came from beside her, carrying undetectable tension and probing.
Tulia snapped back to her senses. She realized she was still in Sophia’s arms. Sophia was looking down at her, her deep purple eyes full of worry.
Under her palm, her heart seemed to skip a beat, completely different from the previous panic.
Tears silently slid from the corners of Tulia’s eyes, one after another, rolling down her pale cheeks without a sound.
However, her expression remained blank, or rather, confused. This crying didn’t seem to come from her own will.
“Eh? This is — “
A drop of warm moisture fell on the back of her hand. Tulia lowered her head blankly and touched her face.
Her fingertips felt a cold wetness.
She… was crying?
“I… I…”
Tulia hurriedly wiped her cheeks with both hands, trying to stop this inexplicable malfunction.
But the tears seemed to have a mind of their own. The more she wiped, the more they flowed, wetting her fingertips and blurring her vision.
She didn’t understand.
Her mind was empty. The details of the nightmare were blurred. She couldn’t remember why she was sad or for whom her heart was breaking.
She couldn’t feel any specific emotion, only a numb void.
Usually, she would only shed uncontrollable tears when she was clearly aware of extreme sadness.
But she forgot that when the flood of sorrow exceeds the limit the soul can carry, when the pain of loss is so sharp that the soul cannot look directly at it, human instinct triggers protection.
The brain carefully seals away the bloodiest memory fragments, leaving only a wasteland that looks calm but is actually surging with hidden currents.
Then, in countless seemingly ordinary moments — perhaps a quiet night, a solitary walk at dusk, or like now, on a swaying journey home where one lets down their guard — the forced suppression would find a crack and burst forth.
It bypasses your conscious will and speaks directly to your body.
So, before you can figure out why you are sad, the tears have already remembered everything for you.