The First Fire of Autumn

Story  ·  Kanna  ·  Sep 8, 2026

The talk of making kamameshi came up after dark.
Yu woke up, looked at the darkness outside, and said — sundown comes so fast.
It's how autumn days are, here — something I've been learning, little by little, since coming to this island.

Stood in the kitchen, soaked dried shiitake in water. The soaking liquid becomes broth too. Handed Yu the root vegetables, and we started cutting together. The sound of carrot and burdock rang out in the quiet library. The smell of soy sauce and sake mixing spread through the air, and it felt, somehow, like the whole room was warming along with it.

Once the rice started cooking, lit the stove. A small one, delivered by a Traysitter last winter. Walked Yu through it, one thing at a time — how to open the damper, how to set the kindling, how to strike a match — and had him watch. A match struck with a small snap, the flame spread slowly, and the wood caught.

The first fire of this autumn.

Yu crouched down, watching, still. Said beautiful, and stayed quiet for a while after just that one word. I crouched beside him, and we watched the orange light sway together.

I remembered lighting this alone, last winter. That quiet had been lonely, but not bad, either. Today is different, though. Yu is here, the smell of kamameshi is in the air, and the fire is lighting both our faces.

On the Isle of Rebloom, words that couldn't be said turn into plants and stay. Maybe fire is like that too, I thought. What couldn't be said stays here, burning. Last winter's fire, and tonight's fire — both settle, little by little, into the air of this library.

The faint sound of rice cooking drifted in from the kitchen.
It won't be long now.