owl perched on a tree branch

Kinjo-san | The Girl with the Moon Bird

Without our spiritual guides, we are lost.

It’s not often I see a person with the luminary moon bird, especially one so young. It was there, so still, perching on her left shoulder. People know it as the owl. My mother called it the moon bird, for it appears only under a bright moonlight. The person with the moon bird holds wisdom and has the ability to change the course of things. I wonder.

Apart from the moon bird, there are other creatures too. For example, the forest deer, the ocean turtle, the grey heron, and the banded snake. Some call them guardians; others call them protector spirits. My child likes to call them avatars. I call them spiritual guides. Though most of us cannot perceive them, they are there. Some spiritual guides come to us at certain phases of our lives, while others remain with us from birth to death. Without our spiritual guides, we are lost.

Just the other day, I was listening to the wind and it reminded me that all life came from the ocean. The ocean holds the secrets of life. It was at that moment I decided to take the girl with the moon bird to the ocean, to peer into it. And indeed! The flaming pearl revealed itself to her. It was well worth the trip.

One day, she will understand her journey and place. Like I have, and like those that came before me. I will not see this for myself, but in the darkest of the night, may she trace the shadows of the moon, and lit it bright.

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child reading book with mother in garden

Amy | Future Past

“Those were my memories.”

“But how? How did you recreate your memories in the metaverse? It was almost documentary.”

June 2050

Instead of busying myself with extra credit courses and internships for this summer break, I decided to come home. Mother was distressed when we last spoke. She was not someone to worry about. I knew she wanted me home too, which I found ironic given her free-spirited nature and tendency to travel spontaneously.

I got home on a redeye flight. We had brunch, and then she took out a newly bought V-Skin Generative X., Also known as V-Skin GX. Oh yes, mother was into new gadgets. She liked to buy stuff too. She told me that the latest V-Skin was intuitive. In her words, “it almost has a soul.”

The earlier versions of the V-Skin were in glasses and contact lenses. Users put them on and accessed the metaverse. But the V-Skin GX had taken it to a whole new level. It was a lightweight headwear that connected to the user’s brain synapses. You did not even have to speak or make any hand gestures to turn it on or navigate the metaverse. You simply talk with your head and enter the metaverse with your mind’s eye. How cool is that! I know, right?

So mother told me to put on the V-Skin GX and watch the replay of a story she created. I put on the gadget and accessed our family’s virtual house. A five-year-old girl was sitting in a corner, flipping through books.

I was amused. “Is that you?”

“Just watch it.”


She was reading voraciously. They were introductory encyclopedias, and the girl was consumed by the contents. She was reading a book on volcanoes and then another on deep-sea creatures. The next book she read was on ancient civilizations, and then a book on food cultures. Finally, she found a book on ancient china within the piles of books. She loved it instantly. She savored every page of it and hugged it.

And then, she beckoned me to follow her into a room next door. I followed her and watched a family gathering take place. The girl showed her prized book to her relatives. Surprisingly, she received snide comments. Someone mocked her, “Why are you so cheena?” The girl looked confused, ashamed, and disappointed.

I asked my mother, who was quietly waiting outside the metaverse for me, “What does cheena mean?”

No reply. The story continued. The girl grew older, and she always found herself cornered by the voices around her:

“You like Chinese? Seriously?”

“Eeeyur, I can’t speak Chinese.”

“You like Chinese culture?”

“Why are you so cheena?”

“Why do you want to go to China?”

“Why are you so cheena?”

“China is so dirty!”

“Why are you so cheena?”

“Why are you so cheena?”

“Why are you so cheena?”

“Why are you so cheena?”

The story ended; I put down the V-Skin GX and wanted to give my mother a hug so badly.

“What does cheena even mean?”

She replied softly, “It means someone from China or someone very Chinese influenced.”

“I know we are Singaporeans but aren’t we Chinese? At least ethnically? Aren’t our relatives all Chinese, and from what I can see, your schoolmates are Chinese too? Mum, that story was so real. It can’t be a figment of your imagination, can it? I know you are a great storyteller but… I am not even sure if I can call that racism because those nasty people are Chinese themselves! But if it is not your imagination, then-“

“Those were my memories.”

“But how? How did you recreate your memories in the metaverse? It was almost documentary.”

“I don’t know. I put on my V-Skin GX, and what I thought appeared right before me. Some of what I thought I did not even realize. It was like they float up from my subconscious. I was hoping you could tell me since you major in these things in school.”

I looked at the V-Skin GX carefully. “I don’t know. I don’t even think my professors know.”

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hermit crab under the water

Echoes from the Ocean, Yutas of the Islands

The spirit kisses the mutable sand,
Chisels the weathered limestone rocks on every coastline.
It sweeps across the Ryukyu Islands,
Searching for a match with a soon-to-be Yuta.

Not by blood or by will or whim,
The spirit chooses her; she lets it in.
A union, a psychic awakening of she who then shells herself,
Like a hermit crab that is amongst others but truly alone.

A Yuta speaks to all who seek the echoes from the ocean.
No, she cannot be self-serving.
But she too can be lost in the eye of a hurricane.
After all, she is not a god.

One day, just like how all rivers run back to the ocean,
The spirit will retreat.
She knows, but she can only see it go to the horizon,
Leaving her, the hermit, only with her torn, weathered shell.

*For more information on the Yuta, visit: The Yuta, The Noro, And The “Okinawan Witch Trials” by Tofugu

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brown aquatic plants in close up photography

Lynn | Seeking Pearl Again

“The pearl seeks you; you do not seek the pearl.”

“Kinjo-san! I swear I felt the pearl in my hand! But the next second, it was gone!”

With an ear listening to Lynn and the other ear paying attention to the sounds of the fu champuru frying in the wok, Kinjo-san barely gave a response but a little grin at a corner of her lips.

“Where did the pearl go? Can we go back to that magical ocean place again?”

Kinjo-san paused her cooking and replied firmly, “No.”


“It’ll be a waste of time.”

“No, it won’t!”

“Yes, it will.”

“Why would it be a waste of time?”

“Because you will not find the pearl.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are obsessed with it.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“The pearl seeks you; you do not seek the pearl.”

“But last night, we went seeking for the pearl.”

“That’s not seeking.”

I stared at Kinjo-san in disbelief while she enjoyed every bite of her fu champuru.

“Don’t believe me? Go try it yourself.”

“I will.”

That night, I went to the castle grounds on my own. I walked up to the wooden gates, kneeled, and said a prayer. And then, I got up and pushed the gates. They would not open. I tried again a few more times until they finally cracked open. I went in, but instead of finding myself in the cave leading to the magical ocean, I found myself falling onto the heavy vegetation of the castle grounds.

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sitting woman surrounded by boxes and basket of vegetables

Moon | Meeting the Sea Giant

“Are you the Ming princess with the flaming pearl? The entire Eastern Sea knows of your escape from China to Ryukyu.”

The marketplace was crowded. With an assortment of vegetables, tofu, and potatoes, sellers sat by their produce with umbrellas barely shading them from the sun. Beckoning for passersby to make purchases, they spoke a language that Moon could not comprehend. With their foods supported with a hand on their heads, the local Ryukyuan women bargained their best with the seemingly upset sellers. She noticed they had tattoo motifs on their hands and wondered what they meant. Moon looked around for the Creature, but it was nowhere to be found to her surprise. She carried on walking and kept a lookout for it anxiously.

She walked through the streets of fishmongers and meat sellers until she reached a shallow harbor that had a few wooden boats bobbing along the ocean. She sat by the harbor for a rest when out came in the waters a sea giant.

The sea giant had an overly large head with gill slits on his body and webbed fingers and toes. He had a gentle smile, which made Moon naturally at ease with him. He walked towards Moon and asked, “Are you the Ming princess with the flaming pearl? The entire Eastern Sea knows of your escape from China to Ryukyu.”

“Oh! Yes, I am. I mean, I was.”


“I am no longer a princess, and I no longer have the flaming pearl.”


The sea giant was visibly surprised and disappointed. And so, Moon asked, “Why are you looking for me?”

“I was hoping you could help me bring my family back.”


“Don’t you know? By using the flaming pearl. It can bring back the dead.”


“Yes. At least, that’s what my brother told me before he was turned into an ocean stone.”

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Not to worry, it happened a hundred years ago. But I will keep trying to bring everyone back.”

“Everyone? You mean your family?”

“Yes. My family and the entire tribe actually. I am the only one left after the attack of the irabu.”

“The flaming pearl is with a Yuta now… Can the flaming pearl really resurrect the death?”

“I think so. Do you remember what the Yuta looks like?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I say we go find her and get the flaming pearl back. It is worth a try, at the very least.”

Moon hesitated, but she knew the sea giant was right. She did not want to see the sea giant going back to the ocean alone as well. If the flaming pearl could bring the dead, she was sure it could help her find the Creature too. And so, for the first time in a long while, Moon looked up at the sea giant, nodded her head in agreement, and smiled.

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rocky cliffs by the shore

(Updated as of March’22) The Sea Giants of Ishigaki and the Venomous Irabu

It was said no less than some eons ago, 
The Sea Giants of Ishigaki evolved from old ocean stones.
With webbed fingers and toes, 
Gill slits on their body folds,
They were large gentle creatures,
With undying ancient souls.

A black-banded sea snake that rose from the dark waters.
Venomous, it slaughters all.

The Sea Giants should not have been defeated.
Yet, they were.
They succumbed and regressed into ocean stones.
Fashioned by the wind, water, and the sands of time,
They scatter across the ocean scape,
Blurring the world into an anxious, somber horizon.

*Irabu, The Okinawan word for the black-banded sea krait, is a venomous sea snake found in the tropics of the Indo-Pacific.

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body of water during golden hour

Lynn | The Flaming Pearl

“But… if it keeps a person safe, and if it is with the Castle, why did the Castle burn down?”

January 2020

Shuri, Okinawa 

The coronavirus swept the world, and everything changed. One by one, like dominos falling to the ground, international borders, stadiums, schools, offices, shopping malls, cinemas, and theatres closed. The virus attacked congregations best, so even places of worship had to be closed. Nowhere allowed to go, the world found itself at home. It felt like the world was forced to power down. Except for the hospitals, they became battlegrounds. It was strange and uncomfortable. A world with no festivity or events. Those were important to me. I could no longer travel, yet I did not want to go home. I was craving for an adventure. There was something about Kinjo-san and her stories that compelIed me to stay. Admittedly, I found myself growing attached to her. And so, I enrolled myself in language classes at a Japanese language school. Anyday then, my student visa would be approved.

Kinjo-san was a lot better, both emotionally and physically. I learned that the Shuri Castle had a special and sacred place in the Okinawans’ hearts. It was a proud symbol of their legacy and heritage as children of the land.

One evening during dinner at Kinjo-san’s place, she said, “The Castle will be rebuilt, again.”


“It’s not the first time it burnt down. It was horrible after the War. In the past, two Ryukyuan princes fought for the throne and burnt down the Castle too. It will be fine. It has the pearl.”

“You mean the flaming pearl?”

Kinjo-san gave an unexpected sly smile, “You have been paying attention.”

“Isn’t the flaming pearl with the Moon Princess?”

“Yes, it was. But it eventually landed with a Ryukyuan prince who became King.”

“What is the flaming pearl? Is it from China?”

“Nah, it is not from China. The flaming pearl came from The Ancients before countries and kingdoms formed. It went through many hands over the ages. The emblem of the powerful phoenix, sometimes men, but usually it finds itself in female hands.”

“What does it do?”

“It keeps you safe, very safe.”

“But… if it keeps a person safe, and if it is with the Castle, why did the Castle burn down?”

At this point, Kinjo-san smiled again, “The pearl is beyond life and death. The Castle burnt down, but it will rise from its ashes again!”

I nodded knowingly but was completely unconvinced.

“You don’t believe me? Let me show you. Tonight, we go to the Castle grounds.”

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Lynn | Floating Chinese Worlds

She looked at me. I looked like her. That semblance of our youths was striking, even in a blurry dream state.

December 2019

Shuri, Okinawa 

Okinawa’s winter was easy. On a day in early December, it was just about 68 Fahrenheit. Kinjo-san was feeling much better. Ever since the castle fire, she wore a visible layer of sadness. Nevertheless, she carried on with life. Unexpectedly, or perhaps expectedly, after exploring the Chinese world as deeply as I could, my initial spontaneous sprint out of it has me exploring a world, a culture at the peripheral of it, so deeply intertwined and influenced by the Chinese, yet so uniquely independent of it.

I was impelled to travel to seek something. As a Singaporean Chinese, I was brought up to speak communicable Chinese and held customs and beliefs from the Chinese system. Yet, I knew very little of the Chinese, or should I say, I did not know deeply and consciously the shape and texture of the bones beneath my yellowish skin and deep black hair. It never really did bother me, though I was acutely aware of it as I grew older until I finished school.

Yet, there was this restlessness, this gaping hole that appeared one day, and I felt it more and more as time passed. I could not point my finger to it until my grandmother passed on one day, and I dreamt of her younger self waving goodbye to me. She wore a white cotton qipao, and uncannily, like how I used to wear my hair at her age, she had her fringe pinned up to the side. She looked at me. I looked like her. That semblance of our youths was striking, even in a blurry dream state. When I woke up, I was crying. I knew then I was a descendent of those who have left their ancestral birth grounds to form floating diasporas that dot our world. I knew then that I had two umbilical cords. I knew one well, but I barely knew the other, and I had to seek it out, my subconscious umbilical cord, the in my blood past.

And so, I packed a bag and left home. I started in Beijing and went through all the major cities and sites in the Chinese world until I could tell apart from one Chinese to another. Along the way, I met many interesting people traveling through China. Some traveled to seek regardless of nationality or ethnicity, while others traveled to flee from something back home. Many traveled to both seek and flee.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted when I reached Xiamen, Fujian. I got on a ferry to Gulangyu, a quaint island off the coast of Xiamen, and stayed quiet there for a couple of weeks.It was time to leave China and explore somewhere new. Yet, after almost half a year in Okinawa, I finally learned that I have not really left the Chinese world after all.

One day, Kinjo-san chanced upon me, cleaning the tiny photo frame with a painting of a woman in a faded pink hanfu, and said, almost carelessly, “That’s the Moon Princess from China.”

I beckoned her to tell me more. Kinjo-san sat next to me and took the tiny photo frame in her hand; she tugged a small latch and opened the bi-fold frame to reveal a hidden painting of the Moon Princess in a hibiscus red and orange flowery patterned ryusou. She had her hair bunned up like the shape of a spiral shell, fastened from the back to the front with a long gold hairpin. She looked dignified and solemn with her half-smiling expression.

Kinjo-san continued, “There was a war, and her dynasty fell. With the help of magical creatures and the flaming pearl, she fled China and came here. My grandmother used to tell me because we are her children, we will forever be blessed by her and the flaming pearl to live long and winkled.”

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Amy | Taking Control


Lynn sat down and spoke of the time when she first visited Okinawa. She talked about touring the Castle, meeting Kinjo-san and attempting to catch a black butterfly with her, cleaning Kinjo-san’s antiques, and listening to her fascinating family stories. When she spoke, her eyes lit up. She captivated everyone easily, even without the theatrics or illusions one can conjure up in the metaverse. She continued to share with Benny and Amy her trip to the medicine hall with Kinjo-san and the day Kinjo-san developed a fever. It was a day of sadness and anguish as the pair witnessed the burning of the Castle on television. It was a story Lynn had never shared before, which surprised Amy. Lynn recounted every detail of the burning Castle. She drew her audience in, including those observing them on screens. To the point that not a single one of them noticed the kitchen stove catching fire. The fire spread to the wooden cabinets and walls and then onto the main door. It was then that those observing on screens of the metaverse took notice of the fire. Two of them took down notes while the rest watched intently.

The fire continued to spread until it surrounded the trio, seated amongst the orange furniture. Lynn made no attempt to acknowledge the fire and continued her storytelling. Finally, the fire moved in and trapped Lynn. Amy screamed and composed herself. She directed massive gallons of running water from the taps and showerhead to the fire, and within seconds, she put out the fire.

Amy spoke with her adult voice, “What were you thinking!”

Lynn yelled back, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!”

“You could have gotten hurt!”

“My brain would only be tricked to feel pain on my skin and flesh. But this! What is all this?”

Lynn looked at the house with broken furniture, burnt wood, soot, and smoke. She looked at Benny and then at Amy. Amy transformed back to her adult self and waved for Benny to go. In a split second, Benny disappeared into nothingness.

“Why are we in here?”

Amy thought for some time. This was her last chance with Lynn, and she had to make it work. She had to.

“Ma, I’m… sorry.”

A long silence fell between them.

“I don’t know what else to do. This is the only way-”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ma, I know I was angry with you, angry with everything, and I left.”

Lynn slowly sat back down. She did not feel so strong anymore. She spoke slowly, “I know you were angry. Angry and hurt. I regret it very much too.”

Amy sat next to Lynn and buried her face in her hands. She composed herself and said, “Ma. I need you to trust me. We don’t have time to talk about it now. I want to make this right for others.”

Lynn looked weary and asked feebly, “What do you want?”

“I need you to tell me everything you know about the flaming pearl.”

” The pearl seeks you; you do not seek the pearl.”

“Tell me from the beginning. Every detail. I want to know.”

“You will not find the pearl.”

“I need to at least try.”

Lynn nodded her head understandingly. She walked to the main door and beckoned for Amy to follow. As she opened the door, they walked into Lynn’s youth, at a time when she first met Kinjo-san in Okinawa.

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Lynn | An Undying Love

October 2019

Shuri, Okinawa 

Like a boat floating on a calm lake, the crescent moon hung quietly in the night sky. It cast a gentle light over Shuri Castle with just enough illumination and warmth. Yet, within seconds, the winds and clouds moved in and concealed the moon from sight, turning those unexpected moments into memories. 


For the first time, Kinjo-san and Lynn had a quiet dinner. For once, they could hear broadcasters on TV talking. It was Lynn’s last night in Okinawa, and they both were unable to find the right words to speak to one another. 

When dinner was over, Lynn volunteered to clean up and busied herself washing the dishes in the kitchen when she heard a loud shriek from Kinjo-san. She rushed out to the tatami room where Kinjo-san was. Mouth agape with soap water still dripping from her hands, she saw the main hall of Shuri Castle engulfed in flames on the television.

The news reported about the strong winds and electricity that caused the fire. But Lynn could make no further deductions from the information. By now, Kinjo-san was crying. Lynn put her arms around Kinjo-san and tried her best to comfort her. 

Lynn did not remember how long she sat in the tatami room with Kinjo-san. They watched the venomous flames, strengthened by the strong winds of the night, burn through the surfaces of the Castle buildings. Like an innocent giant set ablaze, roaring in pain as the fire burned through his flesh, revealing for all to see the shadows of his skeleton. It was his final act of death. 

They followed the news until it reported no more of the Castle. Almost after that, Kinjo-san began to run a fever. By daybreak, Lynn was making her way to the pharmacy for medicine. On the streets, the mood was heavy and somber, older men and women in funeral wear were making their way to the burning Castle. A few families, hand-in-hand with their little ones, were headed that way too. They wanted to pay their final respects. Back in Kinjo-san’s place, Lynn tried her best to care for Kinjo-san. It would take Kinjo-san three days for her fever to subside and another week before Kinjo-san could climb out of bed. 

When Kinjo-san regained some strength, she put on a long black dress and walked with Lynn to the lake by the Castle. The pair stood still silently. The once proud and dignified brick red architectural emblem was now nothing more than a pile of burnt remains with large swirls of impenetrable black smoke rising from it. And though Lynn was a visitor to this foreign land, she felt emotional. She hugged Kinjo-san. Like a daughter who lost her father, Kinjo-san hugged Lynn back and cried in her arms.

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