It made him recall both wonderful and painful memories, how the warm spring sunset falls on the rows of cherry blossom trees. On those rolling hills, he remembered excited calls of his name, a huge idiotic grin, his hand held by warm, smaller ones.
"Gary!" It was that same voice, but it didn't hold that joyous tone it usually does. It sounded broken, hurt - and he was the cause.
Gary didn't know what happened. They were playing on the highest hill at one point, pointing to the twilight sky, basking in orange light. Tall grass tickling their arms. Then he turned to the smaller boy, drinking in the smile he had on. This was going to be last. The last smile Gary was ever going to receive. He pushed him, he watched him fall, and he left the confused boy in a wreck on the foot of the hill.
Going through countless goodbyes and partings, this is how we see results.
We must learn from our mistakes, we know that all goodbyes ache.
It was too late when Gary realized it was childhood love. Ash hated him now. He was sure. The boy wouldn't even look at him. Somewhere in his heart, he would like to think it was the same thing he went though. Faux hate for a veil of love. But he couldn't find in his eyes, that sparkle he used to see.
"In the end it hurt us more than we'd ever knew."