Act I - Reason

This is how we met.

I wonder if you remember that day. I always think about it a lot, since it was the day that brought me to you. However, I also wonder: what if we hadn't met? What if I never crossed paths with you? At times like those, I realize that it's impossible to imagine a life without you.

You don't talk about it much, so I often think that you've probably forgotten about it. But whenever you do mention it, there's always an air of courteous detachment around you. You're cautious with your words then, careful not to dig in too deep.

Lately, I've noticed something. Do you keep silent because you know it's a painful memory for me?

It was ironically sunny that March morning, in a morbid sort of way. I remember staring at my polished black dress shoes, focusing on the way that the sunlight would bore into my eyes, reflected off of them. But regardless of what I did, I couldn't shake the thought from my mind.

What have I done?

The oppressive stiffness that lingered in the air weighed down on my shoulders as I stared blindly before me. A painful, aching, premature storm that tore within my chest, the one I had thought was over, had awakened once again. There were faces there, eyeless, blank faces, drowned by the murmur of a distant voice I had no desire to decipher. But I paid no heed. In my mind, I was alone.

Fine, then! Don't ever come back!

A heavy, choking sensation filled my lungs as my ears throbbed violently. Just when had the atmosphere begun to feel so restricting? I could feel my body slowly suffocating, dissolving away into stale air. Guilt mocked me, hovering before me, devouring the little will I had left.

After all, what meaning was there? What was left?

Nothing.

No one was listening. These thoughts screamed inside my mind, but no one cared. It seemed like no one even noticed. I needed to break free, to escape.

No, this isn't right. I can't be here.

I must have taken off then, because the next thing I could remember was the resounding beat in my chest. It escalated, became faster as I ran, rising up my throat. I refused to acknowledge it: I couldn't take the thought of still being alive after taking the life of one whom I loved.

If I keep running, maybe I'll be able to breathe again.

Sunlight and shadows, sliding past my eyes: those images buried themselves into my mind. It's strange how such a beautiful day could seem so sinister, perhaps boasting at my pain. I can remember the way the cool spring air licked my cheeks, the way the tranquil morning ambience made me feel empty and meaningless inside.

But what am I running from? My father? My guilt? Myself?

I stopped, collapsing on a shaded step in front of the church. The birds were singing, but I could only cry.

It was flooding. Flooding out of my eyes. I couldn't keep these feelings in any longer. Ceaseless tears, flowing down my face, exhausted emotions spewed out along with them. I clumsily wiped them away, struggling to calm my breath.

A sharp stinging panged against the side of my head.

There was a brown-haired boy standing at the doorway, tossing a pebble in his hand. His bright blue eyes glistened as he smiled. Where had I seen those eyes before? Laughing, he lightly threw another one as he approached.

"Don't cry," he reassured me with a smile.

"I'm not." I turned away, still a bit lost in my emotions. I didn't want to look at anyone, much less have anyone looking at me. Not when I was like this.

"I'll play with you," he suggested, arms slightly outstretched.

"Shut up! Go away!"

I jerked my head around and buried my eyes in my sleeve. Why couldn't people just leave me alone?

But the other boy was crying. Crying? I looked up at him, getting to my feet as I momentarily forgot my own worries.

"H-Hey…" I put a hand on his trembling shoulder. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…"

His breathing was short and broken as he choked on tears. As I watched his face contort in sadness, I began to feel regretful of my actions. Selfishly, I had been too lost in my own feelings to consider others.

"I… I didn't mean to make you cry," I told him, offering an awkward smile despite my own watery eyes. "Here, sit down."

I took a seat next to the boy, my hand still resting on his shoulder, as if in hopes to steady him. He hiccupped slightly, wiping his face as he looked up at me through clear, honest eyes.

It was then when I remembered. He had been looking at me earlier with curiosity, observing my emotionless expression. Had he worried about me? When I took off, had he run after me?

"It's all right," he told me. "I just wanted to make you feel better, but I'm not that good at that type of thing." He let out a nervous laugh, grinning.

Something must have happened then. A little part of me must have awakened. I blinked, bringing my hands to my sides.

As I smiled back at the boy, I became conscious of it: I could actually breathe now. I looked at his face, his delicate sincerity, truly seeing him for the first time.

Sunlight shimmered softly as the branches shifted in the breeze, casting upon his luminous eyes. When I noticed the sky had the same azure tint, I came to the conclusion that the day wasn't so sinister after all.

In fact, it was actually quite beautiful.

"Thank you," I told him softly.

To my own surprise, I found myself reaching out towards him, embracing him in a hug. The boy stifled for a short moment, but soon relaxed, letting out a sigh as the last of his tears slid down his face.

I couldn't help but notice how his body felt warm and comforting in my arms. It was strange, for at such a young age, to have such feelings… why was it? Was it because it was him?

As he rested his teary face on my shoulder, I didn't realize that there was something he may never know.

That day, I hadn't necessarily thanked him for trying to make me feel better. I had thanked him for giving me something to live for.