𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 12 - 𝒜𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 ℬ𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓈 (5)

In a land full of grass and wet mud, two boys ran across a field with all they had. One was shorter, the height of a taller dwarf boxwood with soft blue eyes that held onto the last vestiges of innocence, while the other was an inch taller with gray-colored ones that looked like they held clouds. As they both covered a certain distance, the shorter one trailing behind the taller, their ragged clothes, full of tiny holes, were soaked deeper in rainwater along with their raven hair.

The shorter boy saw the tree in the distance, and he reached out to it as if wanting to touch its soaked bark. His steps turned faster, trying to surpass the boy in front of him; alas, the boy was only growing faster. The wind howled and then it howled faster as the boy observed a frog in the grass inching closer to his run path. And so the wind stopped, the boy lost his footing, and he soon tasted mud. Immediately he got up, trying to reach his goal, but then his ankle burned. It was not an ordinary burn; it was a twisted burn, the kind that caused the young boy to whimper.

As he sniffed, he called out in a weak voice, "Kilosto! Stop!"

But Kilosto had gone far ahead. The boy observed his friend moving closer to the bark with his still-growing fingers as he cried and whimpered. Rubbing his eyelids, he got up and limped to his destination, one-legged, in the freezing cold of the final showers.

One jump, two jumps, three jumps, and then he fell. Gritting his teeth, he tried to run forward again, but then he saw Kilosto touching the stump with a smile on his face. Kilosto, from the medium-length distance, looked at the boy wide-eyed and ran towards him with fright.

"Noir... Noir... when?" he shouted

Noir barked, whimpering like a wounded puppy, "I am never running again. I hate you," and then he pouted, looking at his friend.

Kilsoto had a smirk, as if he owned the world. "Weak. You are weak." Then his smirk faded as he observed Noir's face as he whispered, "What happened?"

"I hate you!"

The boy lowered himself as he lightly grabbed Noir's foot daubed in wet mud, and then his expression tightened as he said, "Shit. It is twisted."

"I hate you!"

Kilsoto looked like he had an intrusive thought that he was going to act upon. Before Noir could react, his twisted ankle was tapped. There was no pain, but Noir cried out loud enough for rainwater to enter his mouth, which he spat out instantly. And then he realized there was no pain and only Kilsoto, who was holding in laughter as he produced funny sounds. As something in his brain twitched, he lunged at his tasteless friend, dragging him into the wet mud. His arms moved like he wanted to punch, but then he hesitated before he tried it again, only to stop mid-action. This caused his friend to burst out into a fit of laughter to such a degree that Noir wasn't sure if it was rain or tears of laughter that flowed down his face. Irritated by the incessant laughter, he lost all control. His fist moved at the speed of lightning, and then he landed multiple soft punches on Kilsoto's face like a woodpecker biting into wood.

Tap-tap-tap!

Then, he squeaked, pouting, "Stop."

Kilsoto didn't stop; his crass laughter continued, causing Noir to finally have enough. His hands dug into the mud below, and then he cupped them into a fist, dragging the muck from below along with the wet grass. Then, Kilsoto, whose eyes had widened with an understanding of the future, muttered, "Stop." Unfortunately for him, this time it was Noir's turn to cause havoc.

Teary-eyed, he threw it all at his friend's face with the strength of an ant as a smile of victory colored his face. Kilsoto tried to move his head away, but it led to no gain. With a splat, the muck landed at the middle part of his face; it slapped his nose and then spread elsewhere. Kilsoto had closed his eyes, but that had only minimized the damage. Some of the muck entered Kilsoto's mouth, causing his eyes to flash open with a look of absolute disgust; his lower lip was pushed in front, and the entirety of his face had frowned.

Observing this change, it was Noir's turn to laugh. The rain increased in pace, and the muck on Kilsotos' face turned into muddy water, heading for his mouth. He spat out everything to the side before he pushed Noir backwards. Now felt backward, accompanied by only his laughter. As Noir's backside was daubed now, Kilsoto lunged at him, playfully headbutting his chest and then rubbing his muck-laden face on Noir's hands and feet. Noir's laughter stopped, and his eyes widened with a look that couldn't believe something like this could happen.

"Stop! Mother will kill me..." he said.

Then he gripped Kilsoto by his shoulders, and then he pushed him back into the mud. Kilsoto, laying flat on the ground, raised his index finger with a cheeky look in his eyes. Smiling, he moved his index finger left to right, and then he smiled harder as he watched the 3 cycles of change in his friend's expression. And thus, as the rain grew heavier... started a cycle filled with mud and laughter filling an empty space in each other's hearts.

Now the children sat under a tree, its roots hanging from the sky, its branches and leaves so tall and wide that it covered those below in a protective dome. Rain did pass through this dome, but it was scant; the majority of it came from the leaves, branches, and roots that had soaked beyond their capacity.

As a droplet of water fell in a certain rhythm, surrounded by the thundering rain, Kilsoto looked at his friend's face with a smile that hid a certain worry.

He asked, "Everything okay?"

Noir, who leaned against the tree, mumbled as softly as a pup, his gaze locked to his twisted ankle, "Why do you want to run so much?"

He watched his friend's expression turn into an uncharacteristic seriousness, causing the curiousity within to amplify.

Kilsoto said, in a haze, "Because everything turns clear."

"Clear?" Noir's expression tensed in deep thought, and then he said with horror, "Are you drinking with the adults? Mother told me it is bad for children."

Kilosoto didn't respond, still in a haze—a look that he had when he ran. He paused for a second before he said, "The pain disappears. When I run, I only want to run. I run until all problems disappear. Until nothing hurts."

Noir furrowed his brows in grave injustice. "But then why does it hurt for me?"

"Because you are an idiot," instantly muttered his friend as if he had already prepared his words.

"I am not an idiot."

Kilsoto tapped Noir's shoulders in a way that said it was okay to be an idiot. Then, he muttered, "A good old uncle told me that if I run with my heart, all problems will disappear."

"Uncle? You know, all uncles are bad, no? I hate all uncles." Then Noir paused for a second before his voice turned seeking, "With all your heart?"

Kilsoto bobbed his head open and down as the water trickled down his forehead, daubed in mire.

"Yes-yes, like... like... the air feels nice; ahh... all problems go away. Yes. Problems are all bye, bye."

Saying these words, Kilsoto waved his hands, as if actually saying bye. Although comical, at that moment to Noir, he looked thoroughly reassured in his belief.

Observing this belief, gulping, Noir asked, "So if I run with all my heart..." He looked deeply into his friend's silvery eyes, all of my problems will go away?"

Saliva traveled down his throat as slowly as a snail. It contained a certain taste that told Noir that he would be sick tomorrow, but it was warm compared to the temperature outside, a warmth that he clung to.

Then he heard a warmer "Yes."

A certain log wouldn't move out of his throat. His body trembled slightly as he somehow muttered, "Really...?"

As his voice drifted in the turbulent air, he waited patiently for the answer with an ember of hope. For some reason he tried to smile at that moment, but he couldn't. It was then that he heard a voice so reassuring that something let loose.

Kilsoto smiled as he patted Noir's shoulder. "I promise." But then he paused with a disbelieving expression. "Eh? Eh? Why are you crying?"

Noir rejected the claim, rubbing his face, on which flowed tributaries of both warm and cold water.

"I am not crying," he said.

"Crybaby."

With one hand rubbing his face and the other hand pointing, he barked a claim that he knew was false, "You, crybaby."

Kilosoto giggled. "I can see..." then his voice lowered, softer than ever, beckoning something out of Noir. "What happened? Leave the thinking part to me; I can solve every problem."

Noir shook his head, still trying to rub off the saltiness from his face.

He squeaked, his voice barely coming out, "Nothing."

Using a blade of grass that he had plucked, Kilsoto tickled Noir's face.

"Really? I will tell your mother. Okay?"

Noir's eyes widened, looking at his friend, horrified.

"No! Don't!" he screamed.

First, Kilsoto giggled as he watched his friend's reaction, then he whispered, "You know I won't..." He grabbed Noir by his shoulders and continued, "But tell me what has happened."

Noir winced for a second before he opened his mouth, then closed it before he opened it again.

With a downcast expression, he said, "The bad uncle and other bad uncles with him call me a bastard, and then they hit my head." Not hiding his tears anymore, Noir continued, "They make fun of me every day. And today I tried talking to them nicely like Mother said, but the uncle hit me harder and spat on my face. He told me he doesn't want to breathe the same air as me. I don't understand. Mom is always tired and looks sad. She doesn't tell me anything. What have I done wrong? I say sorry, but they call me bad things. They keep calling me bastard. They keep hitting me. Am I so bad?"

Then Noir burst into a fit of hiccups and snot, waiting for his friend's answer.

Kilsoto looked to be in deep thought, after which he said, "What does a bastard mean?"

Noir's voice rose, "I don't know?" then softened, "Mom doesn't tell me when I ask her."

"Bastard... uh... bastard. I have heard it somewhere." After a while his eyes lit up as he said, "Eh...? Is being a bastard bad?"

"It isn't?" questioned Noir, as his tears stopped.

Kirsoto smiled; it was the brightest smile Noir had ever seen.

"Don't brothers call each other bastards?"

"Huh?" Noir's world flipped.

Then a banyan tree, its shade a child promised a child, his words brightening up another's world. At that moment it was raining harder than ever, such that the soil couldn't soak it anymore. The intensity was such that it was louder than thunder.

Yet Noir heard words that seared into his memories forever: "From today, both of us are bastards. So we are brothers..."

Kilsoto stamped his palm on the stump, "Now and forever."

Ring-ring!

Noir absentmindedly got up, feeling the entirety of the pressure on his left leg. He raised his palms to the tree as well, but then suddenly he heard, "You filthy mutts."

Noir immediately covered his head with both of his palms. The rain had stopped, and a man was walking in from the distance.

"No... not again..." Noir whimpered.

Khilsoto smiled as he said to Noir, "I earned some extra money today. You stay; I'll handle everything."

Noir's mouth opened to speak, but he didn't.

Kilsoto smiled and said, "Don't worry, I can run."

And then Noir had to watch him walk towards the horror, his body frozen.

Ring-ring!

He looked to the side, then raised himself to his feet despite the pain. Stamping his hands upon his, he said, "Now and forever."

Ring-ring!

Noir's eyes shot open, and a bright room filled with wood and marble came into view. He felt a crisp texture below his face along with a certain scent, which he liked. His pupils turned downwards, and then he observed a page filled with letters. Then he heard—

Huff...! Huff.....! Huff.......!

along with a,

Ring-ring!

Noir raised himself to the backrest and then, with his right thumb and middle finger, rubbed his eyelids. His fingers then gripped the upper edge of his nose, eyes closed, and then he stayed that way for a second. The ringing sounded again with a monotony that had fizzled out completely as Noir fell deep into his thoughts. When the ringing ran once again, Noir's fingers moved and eyes flashed open. He glanced at the book with a silent resolve directed at something beyond the book.

Then he turned to his phone, which had now turn silent, with the screen emitting blue light with a notification saying, {Missed Call - Rokul}

He tapped the notification, inputted the password, and then dialed the number. A ring or two was heard in his ear, after which there was silence.

Noir spoke, his voice plain, "Yes?"

{"Yes? What you mean... yes? Is that how you greet a friend?"}

Noir stayed silent.

{"So like, there is a problem..."} Rokul hesitated before he continued with an exhale, {"Marcos's sisters' family is dea—passed away. And so... We need you today..."}

"No problem. I'll be there in an hour."

{"Thank you."}

Rokul cut the call.

Click!

As Noir closed the book in front of him, he sighed. His mind traveled to a particular place as he muttered, "Yeah, he is a good friend... he is... one."

Then he finally whispered, getting up, "Claire... the day is a bit too long."