He realised it early, that acute feeling in his chest, that feeling that told him something was missing.

His awareness of it was provoked by a simple gesture; two little girls of his own age walking through the park, each holding an ice cream cone. One stumbled, the cone flying out of her hand and landing in a melted puddle on the grass. She looked close to crying, when the other girl offered her own cone. The girl smiled, accepted the gift, and the two continued walking.

He observed this interchange with a mixture of cynicism and confusion. For one thing, sharing food was very unhygeinic, what if the other girl had a cold? Why did she not tell the clumsy one to buy another ice cream? Why offer at all?

He didn't understand it.

Under the pretence of improving his sketching skills, he went with his manservant down to the park everyday, to see if any such incidents should occur again. Sure enough, he noticed that similar cases happened frequently. The spontaneous bestowal of a present, the assistance of building a castle in the sand box, people insulting each other then laughing at themselves.

It simply did not make sense.

He could not allow himself to remain ignorant, so he began to research. In his mind, comprehending that queer event would somehow explain the dull ache he was prone to feel. He set up correspondence with numerous psychologists, read many articles and editorials on human behaviour. Soon enough, he'd exhausted the credible supply of sources and started posting his own analysis on the matter. He knew everything about it now; every textbook answer to every situation. He built an artifically intelligent being, to test the foundation of what he'd researched and to prove to himself that he could go without it. Instead, he found that the robot only served to remind him of what he did not have, and that it could not be compared to the real thing. Sensing that he had more to learn, he continued to keep up with the psychology world and its findings.

Four years, three months and seventy four articles later, he still didn't get it.

He sat on the roof, panting from his over exertion, the fairy likewise catching her breath beside him. After a while, she began to talk. She spoke as though she truly knew him, she regretted wistfully that he couldn't remember her. As she spoke those words, he felt a compulsion to pretend that he did recall their supposed adventures together. He did so, and for a moment, the fairy looked astounded. Then she just smiled sadly and shook her head.

"Artemis, you don't need to pretend for me."

He frowned. How did she know? "I thought I portrayed the sentiment perfectly."

Again, there was the sad smile. "It was too perfect."

Silence overwhelmed them again and he began to regret. He regretted not becoming that person his father had wanted him to be, he regretted not being able to understand that pang; the strange phenomena of people being happiest when giving. He looked skywards, blinked once, then twice.

"All right, I am hallucinating," he said. The elf beside him however, jumped up excitedly and began waving her arms around. He hardly knew what was going on, but then there was Butler, a strange dwarf, and then he and the elf were on the ship. She turned to him, her hand extended.

"What do you say? Friends bonded through trauma?"

Friendship. It was a foreign concept. He frowned, remembering his earlier promise, then nodded, taking the hand and shaking it vigorously.

"Friends, but I will have to do some reading on the matter."

The elf rolled her eyes, as though expecting such an answer. "Friendship isn't something you can just read about Artemis! It's instinctive."

He started as the words sunk in. Friendship isn't something you can just read about. The words surprised him. What was an even greater realisation was that the dull ache had dissipated without his awareness. Suddenly, all the articles, reasearch and seminars were rendered useless.

Because he finally began to understand.