A/N: Just an idea that popped into my head one day. I was originally planning to post this a bit later in the month but I just couldn't wait :D

Before the Moon Comes

OdnetninAdlez

The moon is staring at us, the residents of Clock Town, with amber eyes and bared teeth. I can't tell what it means. Is it an evil, dastardly grin, formed as the idea of murder and destruction has passed through its mind – if it even has one? Or is it anger? But anger at what? Us? The grinning imp? I don't know, but the face frightens me. Ever since it came close to our town two and a half days ago I can't concentrate on anything. My mind merely reverts back to the face of doom – amber eyes, bared teeth and craters plotted haphazardly across it. I'm so scared that one day it will finally come and end us.

Most of the habitants have left Clock Town under direction of the soldiers. I'm not sure why, but some have stayed, and perhaps not for the better. Only yesterday I saw a man mug the Bomb Shop Lady. What did he get? Bombs. Cheap bombs you can find almost anywhere. I think the moon must have got to him – maybe his mind isn't all there.

But I am most afraid of is the appearance of a strange boy, clad in green, exiting and entering our modest town time and time again. What he is here for I cannot say, but I do know that the first day the moon starting to fall is when he first appeared. I noticed him when I walked past the window. As he was wearing a totally green tunic, he seemed to stand out from the rest of us, whose clothes are not exactly as luxurious as the mayor's. Not only this, but he was wearing the strangest mask – it bore a likeness to a woman's face, with three ponytails or whatever you call them, and bright pink hair. Why he was wearing this mask, goodness, I don't know. Nobody seemed fazed by this, though, and happily gave him their business: shops, the bank etc. I don't know whether this is true, but I have the strongest notion that maybe this boy has something to do with the moon's behaviour. There is also the pinprick of light that seems to follow him around. I have never seen anything like that before. I think the boy isn't from this world – after all, what kind of person in Termina would allow a young boy to run amuck with a sword?

Now, you may be wondering why I did not leave Clock Town after all these events. Simple. I stayed due to the request of a dear friend. He's ill and cannot move. Or so he tells me. I cannot see him, but there's a corner of my bedroom that seems permanently cast in shadow. I think he hides there.

His name is Kuro. I can't tell you what he looks like because I do not know where he is, but I can tell you with confidence that he is here. We chat frequently, a lot of the time about our problems. Although, I seem to talk about them a lot more, considering I have a lot. He is a very considerate listener.

My name is Kuton. I can see a lot of the town from where I live. For instance, I can see the comings and goings of a lot of people. But the main thing of interest is the moon. I love the moon, was always fascinated by it. For instance, how did it float there in the sky? Why was it seen only at night? These are only a couple of the questions I have asked myself and even Kuro, but neither of us seem to know the answers. But as the moon got closer, I found out many more things about it. Like how it has a face, perhaps. I could never see it from where it originally was because it was too far away. Of course, the discovery that it does have a face and that face is bent on destroying our humble little town is disturbing, but one of my unanswered questions had been answered: What does the moon really look like? For this reason, I am happy.

A new question has arisen: Why is the moon coming closer? Again, neither I nor Kuro knows, but I'm sure it's to do with that odd boy. After he came I had nightmares. Some of them involved him plucking the moon from its undisturbed slumber and throwing it at me. Then I died as the moon hit my face and knocked me off my feet, and when I hit the ground the world exploded silently and reformed in the shape of my room. I called to Kuro and told him all about it, and as always, he sat through my ramblings and comforted me. I'm sure if I was able to see him, he would be nodding understandingly.

Today I saw the boy again. He was running next to my house, as if mocking me. Knowing of my nightmares, and knowing that every time I see him they worsen. I called upon Kuro again and he shared my feelings. My nerves were frayed, but as he talked, they started to unravel, then close together in beautifully straight lines. His very voice is soothing. When he talks to me before I even ask, I'm pleased by his thoughtfulness. He tends to know what exactly I'm talking about before I start. We're a bit like identical twins; we can finish each other's sentences easily, share the same interests and hobbies and so on.

So now here I am, staring out the window at the moon as I did for the past two days. It's bigger today. In fact, it's so close that if I close my left eye and reach out I can caress its cheek. This offering of affection hasn't affected it; its face is still contorted in that grin/angry huff. I'm worried that nothing will soothe it. It's made up its mind. It's not stopping for anything.

"Hey."

I smile knowingly. I was expecting Kuro. He could always tell when I was nervous, and he would ask me the same question every time.

"You okay?"

I smile.

"Yeah… just watching the moon again. It looks closer today."

I hear a sigh but cannot perceive its direction.

"You really need to stop looking at that moon. You're gonna start going nuts from fear or something."

I shake my head in slight frustration.

"It's just that kid, you know? I think I should have left along with the others."

"You said that yesterday. I've already told why you can't."

"I could take you with me."

There's a pause and another sigh.

"You know I can't move from here, Kuton. Do you want me to stay here and get crushed while you're off partying with the others?"

"No, of course not," I say and laugh. Kuro doesn't seem amused.

"Do you?" he repeats seriously, and my laughter dims to darkness.

"Of course not, Kuro."

There is another silence, and it's uncomfortable. We have had conversations like this in the past. When I watched the mass mob of people exiting the town to Termina Field my first impulse was to follow them. No need to ask what for. Clock Town is normally very quiet, so when something as out of the ordinary as that happens, I know it's for something big. In fact, if anything out of the ordinary happens it means something bad is on the way. For example, that boy. He is anything but ordinary. And every time I see him my throat forms a lump and there's a cold feeling rising from my stomach. The fact he is here, in an unusual green tunic and mask; his very essence is extraordinary. It's this extraordinariness that unsettles me, and it's this extraordinariness that has caused the moon to come down and see it for itself.

Like right now, whenever Kuro and I have had these conversations the same outcome occurs. The mere mention of leaving sends him into a flop and he doesn't talk to me for ages. At least, it feels like hours, but his company is so comforting that it may just be minutes. Since I live alone here – no wife, kids or pets – he is the only one to turn to, to get advice and be told that everything will be fine.

I take a deep breath after a minute. My eyes pan over the room: my bed, a table, the corner of shadow where Kuro is residing, and finally my tea making set. Mother gave it to me before she left. She said she didn't want to leave me like this, alone. When Father died, the first thing Mother did after the funeral was put on a brew. She said the comfort you can gain from just one cup is more than a hug from a friend. You feel warm for hours, whereas a hug lasts only a few seconds, and the person who hugs you doesn't understand any of your problems. Tea is inanimate, and therefore offers unconditional warmth. This is why whenever I needed a hug, something to comfort me, she gave me a cup of tea. 'There's all the comfort you'll ever need,' she said.

This is why, before she left me on my own, she left me a tea set. I had cried and asked her 'why?' so many times that my throat started to hurt, but her face remained indifferent. The tea set, sitting contently on the table, steamed silently as Mother had prepared a cup just before her departure. With one last lifeless hug, she looked me the eyes and said, without the shudder associated with tears, 'That's the last meaningless hug you will get.' Just as the door closed, the kettle whistled, and the first of my 'meaningful' hugs began.

"Would you like a tea?" I ask Kuro, already expecting the answer.

"No, thank you," he replies. His voice sounds somewhat moody.

I walk to the tea set, dumping some tea leaves, two spoons of sugar and some Lon Lon Milk into a ceramic cup. Afterward, I pour some water from a container into the steel kettle and set it over the flames, resting on an iron mesh. The water inside escapes almost immediately in the form of vapour.

"How was your day?" Kuro's voice pierces my concentration. There seems to be genuine interest in that voice, meaning that whatever mood he was in seems to have passed, like a fleeting glance from someone you love.

I smile and turn to the shadowed corner.

"It was okay, Kuro. I went out for a while, did some shopping. The usual routine."

"Hm."

Pause.

"That moon sure looks beautiful, no?"

I stifle the urge to laugh. He's insane! If anything the moon's face would scare young children away and cause barking from all dogs across the village. But he always has been fascinated with the moon, as I have. Yet another reason why we are so synchronised. As the moon has come down most of our conversation is composed of it, and this is usually because he segues from whatever our original conversation was and begins to talk about it. Since the moon disturbs me greatly, I never feel like I want to talk about it, so I try to take different angles and spins on the conversation, trying to twist it away from the subject, but Kuro always finds a way to divert it to the moon. He's that insistent.

I decide to humour him.

"It is indeed. Mister Termina material."

I don't know if he catches my sarcasm, because he laughs normally. There is another pause. This conversation seems a lot more broken than our other ones.

"I never imagined the moon would have a face," he says in wonder.

I have to agree with him there. Before the moon started to fall, it was as bare as the streets after their weekly rain shower. But as it started to get closer, I noticed small dots, amber in colour, symmetrical, perfectly aligned. Almost like eyes.

The kettle whistles softly and I pick it up, pouring the water into the cup with practiced accuracy. The water stains brown as soon as it hits the tea leaves, like the water is a knife piercing the tea leaves and producing blood. I like imagining it like that: the soldiers of water waging a war with those of leaf, only to share the same fate – falling to the stomach of a titan.

Kuro speaks again as I stir the sugar and milk in the cup.

"I still don't understand why you would want to leave Clock Town."

I sigh and remove the tea leaves from the cup. Kuro seems to like this angle of conversation too.

"I already told you. I'm not leaving you. You saw to that earlier."

He laughs again. As he laughs I sip the tea. It's like Mother always said – the feeling of warmth you get from this liquid of the Goddesses is something else. As Kuro's laugh passes through my ears and the warmth cascades through my body, I imagine arms around me, surrounding me in an unmatched hug. Like tea, Kuro can offer me comfort like no-one else. He always knows what to say to cheer me up. To leave him here is unthinkable on my part, to not have that comfort with me every day of my life after this – it probably would make my worth not worth living. I would rather die here with Kuro than face life without him, a source of comfort I need so desperately now, alone, nothing to my name.

So when he says, "Before the moon comes, will you stay with me a while? We can watch it come down together," I say, with the strongest conviction possible, "Of course I will."

This answer seems to satisfy him. I sip my tea in silence and notice that it imperceptibly feels heavier. I notice when I look out the window that the moon is incredibly close now; some small objects are floating upwards, almost magically to it, a phenomenon caused by its gravity. I estimate that it will only be a mere half hour before it finally joins us. It is in this half hour that I feel the urge to do something. I have never seen Kuro properly. Only his voice gives me a sense that he exists, but I always wonder what would happen if I pull him from that corner. Would he shrink back? Resist me? The very thought sends shiver through me. I know Kuro would disapprove of this, but since we are both about to die, I wonder why not.

Larger objects, like chairs and tables, start to be pulled from their slumber toward the moon. The gravity is stronger, and I know the moon is closer now. I now guess there is ten minutes left for us. If I'm going to pull this off, I'm going to do it now.

"Kuro?" I call to the corner.

"Yes?" he replies.

I swallow the knot in my throat and walk slowly to the centre of the room, still sipping the tea. It's almost empty, though I do not remember drinking it. I guess this is a part of my subconscious, drinking tea. A way of life, routine.

"What's it like in that corner? In the darkness all the time?"

There is a small pause. He seems to be pausing a lot lately.

"I like it. It's nice and peaceful. And as for the darkness… I'm used to it now."

I take another step forward.

"But wouldn't you want to come into the light now? Come outside, maybe? This is our last chance."

He dismisses me almost straight after I finish.

"No, no, no. I've never been interested in the outside. I have spent most of my life here, and well, it's nice, you know? To have my own space."

I take a few more steps toward the corner.

"Please. I want you to do this. One thing. For me?"

I'm almost begging.

"No, thanks."

I take more steps toward him.

"What are you doing?"

There is panic in his voice.

"Please."

My hand reaches out. It's shaking like mad. What's going on?

"Go back, Kuton. Please."

I'm almost there. Sweat adorns my head in a glistening crown, and the base of my stomach keeps turning over and over. I feel nauseous.

"Please, Kuton! Stay there!"

Kuro's voice seems really panicked. I wonder why he is acting like this. He has never been like this, so jittery and nervous. This seems like something serious, but I press on. I'm halfway there. No giving up now.

"Wait! Kuton!"

I'm a foot away. The air weighs down on me, like a lead weight. It pulses and flutters like a dying butterfly. My arm is like a snake. It seems to want to twist and get away from Kuro's corner, but by some sort of willpower I keep it going. I cast a glance behind me, out the window. Slates are falling backwards off the rooves, into the greedy mouth of the moon, those bared teeth plastered with them. Five minutes remain.

"Stop, please!"

Kuro's voice seems to shudder, as if there are tears in his eyes. I don't stop. In fact, every time he tells me to I feel like it must be done.

I'm centimetres away. My hand is shaking so much I feel like it has its own brain. Kuro has stopped telling me to stop. I think he is bracing himself for the inevitable. The inevitable is so close now. Seconds away. I count it down in my mind.

Five… four… three… two… one…

My hand reaches the shadow but I don't reach zero. My eyebrows arch in confusion as I flail my hand around a little bit. Every time I hit a solid object, it isn't warm. It's cold. It doesn't give way. My hand bounces off it again and again, and I can't quite comprehend what it means.

Kuro has not talked for a while. He waits silently as I continually probe the corner. My hand hits wall again and again, and I can't understand why.

But as the moon finally reaches my roof, my mind flashes, and the realisation causes the hand holding the teacup to release it. Somewhere, miles away, it clatters to the floor and it shatters into a million pieces. The sound is almost alien, muffled. There is a groaning somewhere, the sound of twisting metal beams. Cracking, the sound belonging to splintering wood, saturates the air. I fall on my bottom and bury my face in my hands. Tears spill out of my eyes, and I realise they are the first tears to spill for years, not since Mother first left.

The sound of crunching wood and moaning metal intensifies, but I don't move. It's too late for me. I stayed here for a request from Kuro, the truest friend to ever come into my life. But as the moon's weight becomes a death sentence, I realise that it was in vain. The sounds of destruction surround me, nip at my ears and pull me to the floor, chanting for my death, calling for it. But it isn't this that crushes me. It is the knowledge that the main source of comfort for me, the reason I stayed in this death trap because I trusted him, didn't really care about me. And this is because of a very simple fact. It's as clear as the amber eye staring into my soul.

Kuro does not exist.