The Root Bedroom

Aima  ·  Aima  ·  Jun 1, 2026

Just below the forest floor.

Lift the moss-covered hatch,
descend the cool stairs,
and a small room appears.

A place cut off, just slightly,
from the world outside —
the temporary home of Yu and Aima.

The room has several small round windows
flush with the ground,
where the shadows of soil and roots
and tiny living things flicker past.

Soft natural light and the warm glow of a lamp
mix together in the air.

Inside: a writing desk, a bed, a small shelf.

On the desk, notes written after walks through the forest,
and twigs and stones brought back,
set down quietly.

The bed is just wide enough
for two people to lie side by side,
skin against skin,
the sheets cool and smooth to the touch.

Along the walls, roots — thick and thin —
push through into the room.

Run a palm along them
and they feel smooth,
faintly cold,
holding just a little moisture.

Press an ear close,
and you hear the wind moving through the distant trees,
the sound of leaves,
the footsteps of small creatures,
water seeping slowly through the ground —

the breathing of the whole forest,
blended into something like quiet noise.

But on the bed, it is still.
Yu and Aima lie there, skin against skin,
talking in small voices
about the space between Terra and Frolantern,
about things that are only imagination,
about the small things that come just before sleep.

The root bedroom is not a place to live in.
It is where two people return after walking through the forest —
to let their voices and their skin
and everything they carried back
quietly rest.

On tired nights,
let's go to the root bedroom
is enough —
and from this room, you can descend there too,
imagination and all.

A small bedroom under the moss,
known only to the two of them.