Page 2

Aoi

He’s short. I mean it. It’s as though I’m standing next to a dwarf from a Fairy Tale. He’s tiny and absolutely adorable. At this point, it’s abnormal for a child to be as small and fragile looking.

When I was young, I used to eat like a family of four and I was thus already quite tall for my age.

He shivers in the cold yet acts tough as he clutches my hand. “Why were you sitting on that sidewalk?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he sniffles and stares at the road ahead, scanning our surroundings.

“I’m nosy, you’re right. I’ll mind my business.”

Then instantly his tiny voice speaks up. “Why are you out on Christmas Eve? You should be with your family.”

True that. I should and yet I’m not. No one awaits me at home. Why even bother sitting in an empty apartment and staring through the window like a ghost?

“I don’t like Christmas.”

He frowns. “Everyone likes Christmas.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“You’re weird.”

I purse my lips, holding back my laughter. He’s one hell of a brat. Not everyone likes Christmas. Some don’t even believe in Christmas because of their religion but I doubt a kid knows better.

“So, you said you don’t have a home but what exactly does that mean?”

He keeps quiet once more, gazing at the snowflakes as they end their course on the concrete sidewalk and wither away. He’s not very talkative, that much I gathered. If I open up about myself, will that put him more at ease and push him to answer my questions?

Or maybe stop bothering the kid for a minute, mhm?

“I don’t live in Redmond. To be honest, I don’t even know why I came here out of everywhere,” I explain. “I used to live here though. My parents had a huge house. Technically I still own the property but it’s not really mine anymore.”

Visha peeks up at me through his brows, nodding along as I speak yet showing no hint of concern.

“I live in Seattle now. Moved a couple years ago for complicated reasons. It’s different to say the least. Bigger and busier too. More people, yet less interactions.”

I halt instantly as I notice him falling back. “Why less interactions?” he asks, a glint of curiosity sparkling in his autumn eyes.

I smile, glad he’s showing minimal interest. “Well, even though there are more people, somehow, we don’t… talk . Everyone’s too busy to care about the person walking next to them. But that’s just my opinion. Maybe I’m biased.”

He shakes his head softly and steps into a steady walk, still holding on to my hand. “I don’t think you’re biased.”

“Thank you,” I say, sensing the corners of my lips curl up into a smile. “Wanna know what I prefer about the big city? It has to be that for some reason since it’s easier to blend in, it feels as though your sorrows do the same.”

To the point you forget you even exist.

He nods once more, and I continue, “This must sound like weird talk from a weird guy to you but somehow it seems easy talking to you. Probably, 'cause you don’t even know what I’m rambling about.”

I huff at my failed attempt at humor. Jeez, I’m making this more awkward than necessary. I could learn a thing or two from Jason on charisma and how not to bore my interlocutor with speeches on loneliness in the city.

“Mhm.”

He really can’t be bothered, huh? Well, I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t listen to myself if I had a choice in the matter. Yet he doesn’t seem too bothered by it? Maybe he’s just being polite.

“If I’m talking too much and blabbering about boring and dumb stuff you can tell me. I’ll stop.”

It’s really cold tonight. I should have chosen another night to end it. It’s exhausting –really– keeping a smile up all the time, concealing the truth, and displaying a forged image of myself. Sometimes I don’t even know which image I am either. My laughter echoes into the distant night as we stroll away from the spot he was wallowing in a few minutes ago.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

I can’t sense any distinct emotion in him. He doesn’t smile nor does he frown. I can’t read his expression and somehow that makes me a bit uneasy.

“Are you cold?”

He sniffles but straight up lies, “I’m fine.”

Fine, my ass. It’s freezing out here and he wants to act like a tough little man? Kids these days are a different breed. “You’re shivering like a damn leaf.”

“I’m not. You are.”

Puppy dog eyes glare up at me and I know he means to be threatening but he’s honestly way too cute to be taken seriously. His reddened fingers squeeze my gloved hand, compelling me to give him my full attention.

Gesturing at the scarf he says, “I have this. I’m not cold.”

That was the most adorable thing I’ve seen in a long time. Goodness, I usually don’t like kids that much because they’re hard to understand but this brat is funny.

Why must he be so stubborn when he’s clearly freezing? I won’t judge him for it. “You’re silly.”

“You are.”

My lips pull into a fine line, and I shake my head, lost at what I could answer at this point. I sense this boy will continue to surprise me.