An Unbreakable Connection

The soft dry crunch of grass underfoot was all that was needed to confirm the change in seasons, though the world was far too cruel to leave the reminder at just that.

It was summer...and that fact was permeated through all of existence.

The cicadas sun their obnoxious song well into the night. Celebrating the warm, stifling heat and humidity that made it almost unbearable to move. The bright sun beating down and the inevitable thirst that followed.

Maybe if it was just that it would be all right, but things were never that easy.

The nights were hot as well, almost as hot as the day. The water in lakes and by the coast was practically boiling, not the refreshing cool to be expected and desired. The ground was dry and hard to lie on and during the day there was not an ounce of shade to be had as the trees sacrificed their leaves to the unforgiving ground below.

It was upon that background that, hot and desperate for somewhere to sit down, Seto found himself. His feet were practically sweating through the bottom of his shoes and he sat down on a rock to relieve himself of his exhaustion. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face and down his back. If he was hoping for relief, none would come from the warm moisture.

Seto squinted and looked up at the sun.

All of it came together into a painful reminder of the worst summer of his life. The worst year of his life. It was an impressive title, given how miserable the world was. He shifted his gaze down from the sun and looked ahead.

It had been several summers since then and Seto had just kept walking. There wasn't much choice. Not much to do in the world. Just walking...step after step. There was not particular direction he went in apart from “forward”. Only forward, never looking back.

It felt wrong to look back. It made things harder. Every time he had to leave someone he never looked back, and so he had fallen into the habit. If he looked back, he felt like he was going to be trapped there forever. Every moment feeling like the last, but never quite feeling right. He would leave and come back. Nothing was right. In the end, it just became easier to not wait. To not mourn. Just be done with it and move forward.

Ever forward. Never backward.

Seto stopped after falling into the shadow of a towering building, an all consuming force that blocked out the sun and loomed overhead. He stared up at the centre where a large clock face had long since frozen in place, hands bound by vines – forever imprisoning them where they laid. Windows, smashed and doors strewn. Walls covered in words, desperate pleas of those reaching out for something...or someone to hold on to.

Seto's hand paused over a message, but looked past it to the concrete that lay beneath. There was something deeply sad about the state of the world, in addition to the loss of life and community. As he felt the cold concrete and the silence that consumed the world, a piece of his heart ached for the building. A silent mourning for something that was never really alive, but never the less had died one day.

The sign out the front had said something about a school. Seto had read about them. The old man used to read him stories about schools, but whenever Seto asked more questions the man grew silent and would tell him to go play. Sometimes Seto could see a distant look in the man's eyes – a pain long buried that had been brought to the surface. However, for all Seto's thinking he could never pinpoint why such a wonderful place would bring about such despair.

No, much the opposite. Seto wanted to go to school. He had always wanted the companionship that came along with school. Friends that he could talk to and play with. Extra curricular activities and people to share snacks with as they watched the sun set on their way home.

Without quite realising it, Seto had stepped through the doors into the school and was staring down at the shoe lockers. He stepped up to one and opened it slowly. Empty. Seto looked at the next locker and found a pair of rubber shoes inside. He removed them from the locker and replaced them with his own and slid his feet into them.

The shoes were a little small on him and in that moment of realisation Seto felt his heart sink just a little deeper. He was no longer a child. The shoes were more than enough proof of that. What lost hope could he attempt to gain by walking these hallowed halls?

A lump formed in the bottom of his throat and he pushed forward before it had time to settle. Maybe for a moment he could pretend. There was not much else he could do in his life.

Seto paused by a window, looking out onto the baseball field. The old man had spoken of the games he used to play; baseball, soccer and swimming. Of the three, he had preferred swimming the most. He liked how he did not have to rely on anyone else and the boys who played baseball were always so rough.

If Seto squinted at just the right angle he could imagine seeing other kids playing down there. Laughing and slamming into one another. Hugging and holding hands.

The next moment he felt slap on the back and his upperclassman, Sai, laughed and ask him to ditch class with her and get snacks. Seto explained that he had an assignment due that he should really be focussing on. Sai asked if he was working on the project with that Ren girl and curled her lip. Sai was always teasing him about his friendship with Ren, and he always insisted it was nothing more.

His hand gently reached to his shoulder and he held the fabric of his clothes loosely. He could almost feel her, despite never having felt her before. Her laugh, forever impressed upon his memory. A quiet echo of something he had never had. Something he had never truly known. Not in the flesh.The lump in his throat returned and he hastily moved on past the window.

The old man had said they used to sing songs in school. The whole school would come together and sing what they had been practising. It had been a way of forming unity together. Seto wished for even an ounce of that feeling. He paused by the music room and looked in at the instruments covered in dust. He stepped over broken glass, listening to the quiet crunch as he made his way toward the piano at the front of the room.

Seto took a seat at the piano and ran his fingers along the keys slowly. He took in a deep breath and looked out to the chairs that had been upturned in the class. It had been a wild day and the teacher was late, so everyone decided to throw the chairs around. Finally the teacher arrived and Seto stood up to perform his piece to the class. He pressed his finger down on a key and silence filled the room.

Seto's brow furrowed and he pressed a couple more keys. Nothing. His eyes looked up and he saw broken and cut strings. That would have to be all today. Seto stood back up and bowed toward the empty seats.

The one thing the old man had always said he enjoyed about school was the library. Studying and learning had been some of his greatest passions, though something he wished he had spent more time on – though he would never elaborate further.

The library in the school was just like the one that the old man had kept at the observatory. He walked through the shelves, gently gliding his fingertips along the spines as he walked along.

Seto stopped. There was a table up ahead that he and Ren agreed to study at. She smiled and waved him over and he sat down beside her. They poured over books, highlighted pieces of paper and together wrote...something.

In that moment, Seto realised that he had never asked the old man many questions about his life. So, despite hearing all these wonderful things about research and assignments he was not quite sure on what the end product ended up being. He sighed and turned to the empty seat beside him.

The library was left just as quiet and alone as when he had arrived.

Seto made his way to the roof and looked out at the sunset. The silent clock, held firmly in place with vines, lay still beneath him. He turned up to see another structure on top of the school. He chuckled, imagining Crow standing there on one hand. He would be waiting for him. Maybe he would even jump on him as he came through the door. Give him the fright of his life.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he watched the sun slowly disappear behind the horizon. A sense of loss consuming him even more so. The nights were so lonely. So much worse than the days.

He hugged himself. His fingers digging into his forearms, trying so desperately to replicate the sensation that someone was actually there.

And then he was.

His best friend.

His best friend.

His best friend.

Crow wrapped his arms around him. It was not like him, he would usually just slap him. But in this moment he held him. As real as anything else. Flesh against flesh. Warm breath on his neck. Seto loosened his fingers and looked up slightly.

Why are you crying?

I'm not.

Yes you are.

I suppose.

So what's up?

Nothing.

Something is definitely up.

None of this is real.

…

None of this will ever be real.

…

But I want it to be.

I know.

I want to feel the closeness I felt all those years ago.

You're not alone.

Yes I am.

There are plenty of other people out there.

…

Surely you could connect with one of them?

That's not...it's not the same.

What do you mean?

It's just not.

…

They're not Sai...they're not Ren...

Ah...

They're not you.

…

…

Hot tears ran Seto's cheeks as he looked back toward the horizon. The sun was completely gone now. The sky had grown dark and the moon had replaced it high in the sky.

Seto let out a cry that would have been heard throughout the entire city. A desperate wail that tore at his throat. A guttural plea for companionship that would never be realised. Screaming out in agony for a pain that would never be healed and a dream that would never be realised. A sound akin to that of a wild animal having its throat torn out by a predator. The type of sound that would break crowds into silence. The type of cry that stuck with people. The type of scream that made it unable to speak.

A simple expelling of emotion.

When it finished, the world was silent just as before.

When it finished, nothing had changed.

When it finished, Seto was alone.