The wind was howling outside, whistling and ripping past the black window. There was no rain, and despite the fast paced wind, bugs and other beings were still making their noises.

Sana was warm in my arms, peaceful and sleeping. He was safe here, though vulnerable. Under the blanket, he was making soft breathing sounds, barely there in the quiet. They were against my body, pushing out in a steady rhythm. What was he dreaming about? I wanted to know.

I had my own dreams, too, but I had to keep them at bay. Be in the present. But, the present was so wonderful now. It was impossible to deny what could come in the future. Images of my grandma's smiling face in her wedding photos. Her whole life ahead of her. We'd have similar pictures, even though I was forty now. Still, so much life ahead of us.

The box containing her uchikake was upstairs in my sisters' room, in the closet. One day soon, I'd drape it over Sana's shoulders. Make him warm, safe. Just like now. Nothing would really change, but so much would change. We'd be just the same, but the significance. He'd be my family. Loving him always.

There was nothing much to do in the dark. I should have been falling asleep. But, I was antsy. So much energy since I'd seen what was in that box. All these questions. Too many to think of answers to. So much I didn't know.

Combined with Sana wanting to start a family, that uchikake was so much more. It was like we were younger, thinking about our whole lives. We were older, though. Did it make a difference? We'd met later in life, but we were still thinking about what younger people think. Did it matter that we were older? Having a wedding, wanting to start a family. Setting up house. Settling down.

It didn't feel like we were settling down. We were about to go on tour, just starting out at Fleeting World. It was like we had a whole new life, this new start. Maybe, if I thought about it too much, it was like starting over. A second chance that I didn't know we needed. Anything that came before wasn't so important, maybe. We could go together, go forward proudly.

It was almost a different reality. But, there was so much reality left. I couldn't forget what our realities were. I had hope, but I couldn't run away with this. I had to be level headed. That's where it was good that I was older, able to be mature like this. Think logically. Our reality is that he's still sick, and we have to go slow. We can't be like young people and throw caution to the wind. It was better if we didn't.

He made a small noise in his sleep. Kind of like a happy crab. A smile slipped onto my face, adoring him. My arms went tighter around him, and his nose snuggled into my chest more, an automatic response. Loving and needing me even in his sleep.

I want to protect him forever. That's what marriage means to me. I can keep him like this forever, make sure he's okay. Every day, even until I'm very old. I'll love him just the same when he has white hair and a wrinkly face. It doesn't matter what he looks like. He'll make weird noises in his sleep, and I'll hug him close. I know he'll love me just the same.

Somewhere outside, a dog was barking. My arms adjusted on Sana, holding him more securely. Hopefully, the dog wouldn't wake him up. He needed his sleep, even if I couldn't get any. My sleep wasn't as important. He was healing himself.

As time went by, I was thinking about our wedding. I didn't know what it could look like. I only knew I wanted it to happen. Those first ideas of walking with him in the shallow surf, rainbows of flowers all over us in garlands and in our hair. Holding hands with him, and falling into the little waves with laughter. A pink and orange sunset above us, cascading to the waves. Turning our white dresses warm colors. Pulling him to me as we got wet, loving him in the water.

That image couldn't happen. I knew that now. Even back then, it was an impossibility. He couldn't walk like that even back then. It had been a foolish attempt at what I thought was normalcy. But, that wasn't our normal. What could be a new image? Something that I could hold dear instead? Something more real to us. I didn't want to think about him walking anymore, because that was unfair to him. It wasn't the real him anymore, and that was okay. I wanted to imagine the real him. I loved him, no matter what he was capable of. I loved him, and wanted to reject any idea of anything different.

Him sitting in his wheelchair, wearing an overly fluffy white dress. Garland of rainbow tropical flowers around his shoulders and down his front. More flowers as crown in his hair. Bracelets of flowers around his wrists. Holding a bouquet of more of them, smiling up at me as I went to embrace him.

Holding him up on the dance floor, swaying with him. He wouldn't have to do anything, I'd support all his weight as we danced. His sweet arms around my back, his face buried into my shoulder as we danced together.

Taking pictures in front of the ocean with everybody, our formal photos. Him wearing my grandma's uchikake over a modern dress, holding my hand as we faced the photographer.

These were better. My heart was squeezing in my chest. His sweet smile, hard to figure out his thoughts behind it, but a clue was in his eyes. The tight corners, showing me he was really happy.

I had no idea about the rest, except moments like these. Snapshots of what the day could be like. I wanted to know. I wanted to be there, see it with him. We'd be in his hometown, and he could show me around. How wheelchair accessible was it? Would he know or remember? Suddenly, it didn't seem so safe. How could we know?

How would we get to the beach if he was using a wheelchair? Was that still possible? If I thought about it... I paused for a few moments.

Yes, if we put planks of wood down. Maybe, it could work if he rode on the planks of wood that made a sort of walkway. How stable would they be? Would they work? Would we be allowed to do that? Maybe I had to rethink this. He'd been so receptive to getting married on the beach. Excited. But, how safe would it be? He wouldn't be able to get around.

When we'd gone to the beach in Okinawa, I'd carried him on the sand until we'd gotten to our blanket. Could I do the same? I'd be wearing a dress, and I didn't know how delicate it would be. Maybe, the key was finding a dress that wasn't so delicate.

But, a dress. My papa. I sighed in the dark, holding onto Sana a little more. Could I wear a dress at all? He'd be home in a couple of days. It'd be even too awkward to wear a kimono in front of him. What my mom said was true, he wasn't hateful. He was awkward when I wore a kimono. But, he knew a kimono was for my work. A wedding dress was entirely different.

I didn't seem to be able to get past this point. My mom wanted to tell my papa about my being non-binary at some point, but it was impossible to me. Something I could not overcome. But, it was the same thought all the time. If I didn't at least tell him, I couldn't wear a wedding dress, so thinking about carrying Sana around as I wore one didn't make any sense. I wouldn't be able to get past this point.

It was an internal war. I was less emotional now, able to think rationally. No tears to cloud my head about it. He had to know at some point, or I couldn't have a wedding. But, it was so hard to overcome. My mom wouldn't lead me wrong. He wouldn't hate me for being non-binary. But, the pain from his awkwardness about it might be even worse. Knowing I'm making him uncomfortable by just being myself. He'd still love me, but what kind of love is that?

I wanted to be able to think freely. Daydream about a wedding. Any possibility. There was so much ahead of us, but here was a roadblock. My papa's disapproving face. In any image of our wedding, him staring off to the side, trying to avoid my eyes. Maybe it would be the same, no matter what I told him.

There's thing I can't change. What if I told him, and it didn't change anything? Maybe he could not grow, his views wouldn't evolve. It was a new nightmare that I hadn't thought of. Just because I told him, it might not make a difference. The conversation would be open, but it wouldn't matter.

In the darkness, Sana made a snorting noise. Immediately, I looked down. His eyes were still asleep in the bareness of the light. Silently, I made an adoring in my throat, my mouth parted.

For many moments, there were no thoughts. Listening. The dog had stopped barking. The wind was still twirling. But, they floated back. Welcome colors in the dark.

Beyond my papa's face, there was Sana's. Giving me that small smile, smelling the bouquet of flowers in my hands. Telling me the flowers' names, and where they could be found on the islands. All that knowledge that I wanted to know. Him playing with my dress, touching the skirt and making me laugh. So much laughter, despite my papa being strange.

Would I have courage like that on our wedding day? Able to ignore him, because Sana would be smiling at me? But, I didn't want to have to ignore him. I wanted him to be included.

It seemed so impossible. An impossible dream. I had no idea how to make it better or real. As I laid in the dark, listening to Sana and loving him, the more images came to mind, the worse it got. Ruining my plans. Taking me further from what I wanted, from this new reality. We were still caught in the past despite any opportunities.

How to overcome it? I didn't know. The more I clung to Sana, the more I thought about everything, the more this feeling grew, and the more I felt like a child afraid of his father. Vulnerable, uncertain, simply lost.