Here we are with part two. And now it's a quarter to one and I have to get up for school in four hours and fifteen minutes...anyway, you're not here to read me rambling along, you're here to read the next chapter.
Oh, and a last note? This was originally supposed to be two chapters, but I like it when my chapters are near the same length, so prepare for the third chapter soon.
Review! :D
He didn't know what to do about this. He didn't know Takane's number; it's not as if in their past times they'd been best friends. Hell, they hadn't even gotten along ever since that day where he'd beaten her at the weirdly-made shooting game at the school fair.
And she had been Takane, and then into Ene by a process even she admitted she didn't understand. And back out again in the same method.
And Kuroha, poised to kill them all, had undergone a magical transformation, and he now resembled that other boy, the one that used to have the heart sickness. Ah...Haruka. He'd thought Takane would never stop saying Haruka's name, and never let the silver-haired boy go.
He felt a pang of jealousy directed towards his former friend. Now Takane was probably talking to him, to the ex-Konoha, the boy android who'd been his second-best friend. Both his close friends, free from their constraints, had flown away on new-furled wings and left him counting shadows in the silence they left behind.
Tears filled his eyes, to his horror. It just wasn't fair. Here they were, at their happy ending, and he had no one. They'd agreed to see each other a final time, and then divide themselves away, and they'd done so, and they were gone. The apartment, when he'd gone to retrieve his phone charger - the apartment was empty and devoid of all the things that'd been lying around. Not even scraps of Mary's paper flowers had remained.
It was like no one lived there, no one had ever lived there, and he'd taken a long moment just to stand in the center of the room and inhale, indulging in the scent that'd become the one he'd associated with home. Already, it was tainted by the dry smell of dust.
That had been yesterday.
And now he was all alone in his house. Momo had her idol duties, and his mom had left for work. Not even a month ago, he would've curled up in his chair in front of his computer and tolerated the inane drivel stemming from the girl on the computer, lights out, shades drawn.
With the sunlight streaming in, his room looked open and airy, the piles of garbage he'd yet to clean up contained to their places. Nothing like the summer sun to make a place seem more hospitable.
However, summer was almost over. Yesterday had brought a crisp autumn chill, and it felt finally the right temperature to wear his red jersey.
The arrival of fall made him want to cry. The beautiful red leaves, the cool white clouds scudding across the cerulean sky, the frisky little breeze playing up the street. He'd trade it all for even another hour of the sweltering summer sun, the wavering - but now harmless - heat haze, and most of all, the alleviation of the loneliness.
The memory of sitting on the curb with the rest, licking fresh-bought treats, came back with force like a gunshot. The rough feel of the curb, the sweet and sour flavor of cola-flavored ice, the sticky sensation of melted popsicle drying on his cheeks and hands. Ene's laughter, shrilling, "Ah, Master, you look like a raggedy vagabond!" and his typical reply; "Shut up, Ene." The flashback momentarily felt more realistic than the bed he sat on, and his tears from earlier overflowed, streaming down his face.
He collapsed inwards on himself with a sob.
Around him, the house reverberated with the silence.