Chapter Text
“The cosmos; a boundless connection of interpretations our everlasting and expanding universe continuously lays before us. The Universe, what we seek to understand, has chosen each and every one of us for a purpose unknown. Our subject of study into what is traceable by mankind as the darkest and most mysterious sight, unable to fit our comprehension, has left us only but a guide into the understanding of our own creation in the skin of its everlasting veil. The scripture of the stars, that expand as far as the human eye can see, serves as our guide to engage with the energies that surround us, and those which we are born with. Our existence is written from the moment of our birth in the glistening lights of the night sky. They trace a path of ventures and fortunes, as we progress in our own human endeavors, and all the way until we reach unknown levels of our own existence.
There are but three things that constitute our human nature of which we are most certainly sure of: the search of meaning for our humanly and temporary lives, the pending moment of our passing into the other life and the encounter with our other halves, none of which we can predict. The only thing we can be sure of is the paths Fate has in store for us, for such it is how the universe moves. Those things mankind would rather choose to keep a mystery, until the right moment is determined by Fate, are kept by the intelligence of the cosmos, that understands human nature far more than what we could ever achieve. But perhaps that same nature enforces an impulse in us that finds something morbidly curious in discovering those mysteries as well. One of the big questions of human life is kept from our knowledge and trapped in the same cosmos we contemplate day by day. It is almost in a teasing sense, but I believe it is only in good intentions, that the mystery of our soulmates is stored there too.
Soulmates. Our companion in life. Our destined one. Animae dimidium. It is tragic to think we have been placed on this earth only in half; our path in life suddenly seems interrupted because of our own imperfect incompleteness. The journey suddenly becomes far more dreadful because human nature cannot stand the feeling of wandering alone into the path of the cosmos. Our energies force us to search for companionship, materialized in the cores of affection that keep us grounded in our trajectory, as it is the will of the universe. Our minds cannot come to peace without our overflowing energies being concentrated in something beyond us. Our souls cannot move on through the circulations of the moon and sun without engaging with another that shares its same energies. Inevitably, in our imperfection, we crave to love and to be loved. But perhaps what is the cruelest of all thoughts is how the cosmos has abandoned us on this earth to figure out the ways to our other half all by ourselves. Against time, against society, against culture, we each fight to find that moment of first connection with the souls that belong next to our own.
Luckily, the universe is so perfect, it has thought through all answers without us even formulating the questions. The probabilities of our souls connecting with billions of others is so incalculable, the cosmos has balanced our energies from the very constitution of our bodies in the womb at the moment of our birth. Like a piece in the very center of a puzzle, there will always be more than one piece of soul that fits us, whether it is by our north source, south source, east source or west source. While others might not be the right fit for us, they are still the connecting pieces that constitute the cosmic puzzle of our social construct. The elements that come into play to determine our compatibility with one another are so vast and great, that the possibilities are as endless as our own cosmos. There will always be a chance to find that one piece out of many possibilities, though some may be more fitting than others. Perhaps, what matters to us the most is which piece will come first and whether we will be attentive enough to capture the signs of the connection.
Fate plays a leading role in helping us discover our path in life and the completion of our own souls. Our duty as wanderers of the universe is to make ourselves disciples of Fate, obey its directions and follow its mandate patiently. We must not question the ways of Fate. Its timing or its delay do not concern us. The sooner we let ourselves be guided by the ways of the world, the sooner we will be led to that fated path our human nature so desires. It cannot be rushed, it cannot be interrupted, for Fate is one of the most powerful forces that constitute our universe. Fate is our law while we’re living, and opposing it will only tamper with the balance of those souls involved. It cannot be defied, it will always find its way. For Fate makes no mistakes.”
Aiba set the book down on the table before a yawn overtook him. His arms stretched upwards with little decorum, for there was barely anyone around the large library halls on a Friday night. His neck leaned backward, his sight raised to the ceiling above his head. A large installation of the constellations spread through the dome-like structure of the public library. Lightbulbs attached to twisted manila rope were placed around the entire room, dividing the Astrology hall by sections, Capricorn sitting right over Aiba’s head. It was his favorite spot in the library, where he felt most connected with himself, and he liked to think none of that was by coincidence.
“Excuse me, the library will be closing in a few minutes,” one of the librarian’s assistants said, walking over to his table. Aiba had seen this assistant before in his many visits, he was the first person who would greet Aiba across the front desk. It was safe to say they had become familiar by recognition. “Are you checking out any books? I could help set you up.”
“No, not this time,” Aiba refused with a small smile. “I just came for some light reading.” The pillars of books spread on his table said otherwise.
Aiba could at least accept his help to store the books away, even though Aiba always made such a mess and he was always nice to allow him to stay a few minutes over closing time. Aiba wasn’t completely oblivious about this assistant’s reasons. Aiba appreciated his patience with him, even though it made him feel most guilty to not be able to reciprocate any of his kind gestures. He simply learned to accept it as courtesy and move on without bringing too much attention upon himself, and yet the assistant still managed to steal a glance from Aiba through the crevasse of the bookshelves every now and then.
As Aiba returned the book he’d indulged himself in that afternoon, he couldn’t help but stop and look through the shelves that extended across the astrological section. He had wandered through those same aisles so many times, he could no longer keep count of his visits, but he wasn’t nearly done with half of the books in their collection. Ever since he heard the library at Keio had a vast collection of astrological essays and thesis, he’d made sure to go there and judge it for himself. This library had somehow become almost like his own school, as he drowned himself with words until his mind could take in no more. He would always take out a book or two at occasions when they seemed interesting enough, but most of them spoke of the same things, just different wording and line structures. They spoke of soulmates and the paths of the cosmos and the ways of Fate, things Aiba had heard hundreds of times and in thousands of versions before. Most reached a common conclusion while others drifted away from what Aiba most wanted to hear: that there was still hope, even for someone like him.
Aiba walked up to the front desk of the library, finally deciding to take a book with him after all. It was Into the Fate of the Soul , by Kawagishi Emi. The introduction seemed intriguing enough, perhaps he could give it another try.
The librarian’s assistant seemed pleased to see him again, although he reserved his words, holding back a nervous smile in front of Aiba. Aiba waited with expectant silence as the assistant registered the book he was taking out. He took his sweet time, but once he handed over Aiba’s book, he did it with such premeditation, he made sure his hand were placed on just the right side of the book Aiba would reach out to grab so that their fingers would brush, even if just slightly, for just a short span of a few seconds. But even that time was enough for the assistant to realize his efforts had been in vain. The expectation he had once built up in his mind to “accidentally” exchange touches with Aiba had all disappeared the moment their contact did nothing more than set an awkward reaction between them. Though he wouldn’t really call it a reaction. Of course, Aiba caught up to his intentions right away, unironically it was the oldest trick in the book, but he didn’t blame him. Aiba knew what it was like, that curiosity of never knowing if that one person could have a true Connection with you. The anticipation of finding someone who would meet one’s standards and wanting to know if it was really meant to be.
He must have been doing that, what Kawagichi and so many others called the Connection. Aiba recalled his books; “A moment when two souls bound with one another, often described as an exchange of magnetic energy”. “Just another bodily reaction, this one taking place in the collision of the energies of two bodies”. “When the souls would recognize one another as compatible through the sole contact of skin”. Aiba had heard the instances of the Connection were brief, but so impactful it was enough to change anyone’s life.
Aiba always imagined seeing sparks flying at the first contact, considering how people described it sometimes as a painful electric shock. One forum entry he’d read before even went as far as to confess they were fully electrocuted and sent to a hospital. And yet, as scary as it may seem, everyone wished for their moment of Connection to happen one way or another, either by accident or by artfully scheming their way into exchanging touches with whomever they deemed attractive. Aiba didn’t blame the librarian’s assistant, he too knew what it was like to be young and have nothing to lose. Since Aiba also wondered what that first moment of Connection would feel like, he surely must have attempted that maneuver himself many times before, but he had learned from his books that such tricks would amount to nothing but disappointment.
The assistant avoided Aiba’s gaze, trying to not give his actions away, but he was clearly upset by the letdown. Aiba couldn’t help but feel completely responsible.
“I’m sorry,” Aiba offered him an apologetic look and words that he thought would be more reassuring than none.
Perhaps if Aiba weren’t a Dog-Capricorn-Earth type with a Gemini Ascendant, the young assistant wouldn’t have been so disappointed, but Fate had never particularly smiled upon Aiba. If he were to guess, he would say Fate had forgotten all about him. Aiba was a firm believer of the paths of the universe, he had studied most of what there was to know about the obedience of the paths and the reading of celestial signals. Each new theory was trapped in the pages of the books he kept at home, which had become so large in number he had decided to stop hoarding them, and instead came and went with whatever copy he would find at the public library. Most of the theories spoke of patience, or not rushing the ways of the universe to not hinder one’s fated future. He’d follow every law, read every rule, channeled every energy, and after more than 30 long years of his life, there was no sign that Fate had actually sent any divine signals out for him. It was almost as if he’d been forgotten entirely, or even skipped in the divine lists of paired souls. He didn’t even think he could have any potential souls still out there waiting for him. Most of the people he knew had already married the first person they made a Connection with and had run off somewhere else. These were the friends he had left, people who weren’t even around to give Aiba another minute of their happily wedded life. And Aiba had been happy for them, filling himself with illusions that his own turn was soon to come, and he buried himself in anticipation, preparing himself for the moment his connection would finally manifest, only to be abandoned entirely by his fortune.
Aiba realized how harsh life as a single man could be each year more, and he never imagined it only becoming more dreadful with time, but could not allow himself to complain. “ Impatience only drives away the positive energies of Fate,” was something he read in one of his books, and yet that author had been quite contradictory across his writing to begin with. He had to show himself indifferent to the world in order to be remembered by Fate and be engulfed in its purposes for him. He could not be thinking about how he had gotten nothing in return after being so faithful to the teachings of the cosmos, or how even in his 30s he felt so alone. He couldn’t complain, it was not right, not after Fate had been so kind to him and his family. He couldn’t be ungrateful. He knew he just needed to be patient just for a little longer. Eventually, everything would fall in its place. “Fate makes no mistakes,” is what Kawagishi said. And yet he couldn’t hold back a thought from escaping his mind:
“Maybe fate never expected me.”