The Smallest Thing

August 11, 2010
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She was running freely for the first time in ages. There was no war to fight, no places to go, no diplomats to meet, no burdens at all. A gleeful laugh escaped her lips as she twirled around, relishing the feel of soft grass under her bare feet after many long years of trekking over rough, hostile ground. Her light blue dress fanned out around her, and a light breeze gently combed through her hair and caressed her cheek. The air around her smelled like the many cherry-blossom trees surrounding the field. She turned back and, without a word, beckoned for her companion to join her. Her smile grew wider as he kicked off his shoes, the wind ruffling his already-scruffy hair. When he caught up to her, she immediately laced her fingers through his. Their eyes met, and the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly, the first time in a long time. It wasn’t even a full smile, and if you didn’t know him as well as she did, you wouldn’t have noticed it. It was so very small, yet at that moment, it meant the most in the world to her.

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