As morning came and the harsh sun shone bright, Yao blinked his eyes open. "Ah.. Morning," he breathed. "I wish I could feel the sunlight on my skin, not just on my eyes." Ivan was roused by the soft sound of Yao's words, and he lightly sat up.

"Maybe you could roll down your sleeve just for a moment," he said, ruffling his messy, grit-filled hair.

"I haven't done that in years," Yao scoffed softly, putting his hand gently on his arm. Slowly, he rolled it up, soft, olive skin being shown to the sun again. He had paled considerably since Before, yet he was sure he was still darker-skinned than Ivan. Slowly, he lifted his arm, laughing stupidly as he felt the harsh sunlight on his skin.

From being sheltered so long beneath his sleeve, his skin was soft and vulnerable, and it hurt near instantly to be exposed to the elements so suddenly. Yao flinched when he felt his skin itch from the painful light. He quickly lowered his arm, not laughing anymore. His skin looked so easily burnt, and he sighed, rolling down his sleeve. "Oh well," he frowned, standing up slowly and putting his tree case onto his back. "Ivan, help me out." Ivan did as commanded, and Yao helped him with his own tree. They injected their daily SF, and Yao stretched his arms.

"Do we keep going?" asked Ivan, smiling faintly and glancing around. "Oh, look, I can see the city," he said, pointing to a bump on the horizon. "It glows."

"So it does," Yao agreed, looking first at the city. His gaze then drifted upward, at the speedily moving clouds. They weren't ash clouds, and they were not the distinct grey smog of the Dark, so Yao wondered if they could have been rainclouds. "We need to get to shelter," he said quietly, alarmedly watching the clouds blowing toward where they were. They had perhaps half an hour to forty-five minutes to find shelter. Of course, Ivan didn't understand time, so he would've found those numbers irrelevant had Yao chosen to speak them.

"There is no shelter," Ivan pointed out, glancing around the flat environment that surrounded them. "Where do we go?"

"I can see a tall dead tree," Yao wheezed, unbelieving. "Whoa! Look, Ivan! It's a big tree!" he cried, pointing to a tall object on the horizon. It indeed was a tall dead tree, with a hulking greyed trunk and branches reaching out like rabid claws with no real target. Ivan was amazed. He had never seen a tree so tall or wild before, or big, for that matter. He didn't seem to care that it was dead. It still fascinated him.

"Whoa!" cried Ivan, hands clenching in and out of fists in his excitement. He was mostly trying not to run off toward it to look closer. "Can we go there?! It's so huge! It's not even in glass!" he cried, very animated.

Yao sighed softly, and they went to the tree. It was a lot bigger up close, and Ivan bounced around it excitedly. He had never seen a tree this big before, and was fascinated with its every aspect. He ran his gloved fingers down the trunk, before jumping around the twisted and mangled roots like a child.

"This is a tree," Yao smiled, putting down his tree case and resting his back against the trunk. He put his arms against it in a backwards hug. "A tree that grew not in glass, but in clean air," he laughed quietly.

"It's incredible!" cheered Ivan, bouncing around and back to Yao. He copied Yao, leaning against the tree too. Somehow, their hands came together, and their fingers laced before either one of them had the idea to stop themselves. He was smiling so very widely behind his elephant.

"It had leaves, once," sighed Yao, turning his head a little and looking at his companion. "They were big, green leaves that would turn red in autumn, and then fall off when winter came."

"I thought leaves only fell off when a tree died," frowned Ivan.

"There are no seasons within a glass capsule, Ivan. Leaves fall so new ones can grow."

"I see," said Ivan, although he did not. "Are there still seasons?"

"I don't know," admitted Yao, quietly. "It feels vaguely colder sometimes. But it's hard to feel under thick coats and elephants."

They fell silent for a while, before slowly sliding down and sitting together, backs against the trunk, hands clasped loosely. "I wish the Dark never happened," Yao said quietly.

"Me too."

Another few moments of silence passed. "I wish I'd been born After, you know," Yao continued quietly. "I wouldn't remember things of Before, and I could be as blissfully ignorant as you and the other young people," he scoffed weakly. "You all make me feel so old."

"You are very old," Ivan retorted.

"Maybe in mind, but not in body."

"What's that?" Ivan asked, lifting his free hand and pointing out across the horizon.

"What's what?" huffed Yao. He lifted a sleeve to wipe his elephant's lenses, and ended up smearing grit on them. "Damn it," he muttered quietly. "Describe it to me," he mumbled, letting go of Ivan's hand to try and clean his mask properly.

"It is.. Hard to see clearly," Ivan nodded. "There are lots of.. things," he murmured, squinting off into the distance. It took less than a moment for the rain to start where they were. Ivan only really became aware of this when drops started to pitter-patter onto his hair, and he jolted in surprise and shock.

"Rain!" gasped Yao, grinning widely. "It's rain! Ivan, this is water!" he grinned. "Look!" Yao had managed to clean his mask by now, and was gladly staring up at the clouds. "Here it is!" he grinned, holding out his gloved hand to try and catch some. It didn't want to co-operate, so Yao, in his excitement, did something stupid.

"Rain?" asked Ivan, turning his head and almost jumping when he saw Yao lift the bottom of his mask and stick out his tongue, presumably to catch some rain on. "Yao!" he cried, not touching him in fear of hurting him. "What are you doing?!"

Yao did not answer, just waiting and holding his breath until he caught a drop of rain. It didn't take long, but when the water hit his tongue, it was not as expected. He had never even heard of acid rain. As soon as the hot acid splashed on his tongue, Yao wheezed and spat, trying his best to get it out of his mouth. "Fuck!" he cried into the air, coughing and gagging. Thinking quickly, he put his mask back on, still tasting the disgusting smoggy air in his throat. "Fuck," he mumbled softly. "Ivan, we need to go into shelter," he wheezed weakly, dryly. He just grabbed Ivan by the collar and yanked him into the hollow. There was still a bit of an opening at the top of the hollow tree trunk, but most of it was sheltered.

"Yao! What were you doing?!" cried Ivan, worried sick. "You breathed in some of the air?! I thought you were telling me off for taking my mask off before! What were you thinking?" he whimpered, clutching onto Yao's coat and straddling him, holding him against the inner wall of the hollow. "Do you want to die sooner than you have to?!" Yao was very taken aback, and shrunk in Ivan's grasp. He looked down, trying not to cry.

"I just wanted to taste water again," he sniffled quietly, like a child scorned. "I've fucked up again."

"You make me so worried," Ivan said weakly, leaning down and putting his arms around Yao. "Stop doing that."

Only a scarce few drops of acid hit them now, thankfully not strong enough to eat away at the thick material of their coats. Ivan eventually relaxed a bit, leaning his back against the inner hollow wall and keeping one of his arms around his companion's shoulders. "Is the outside world as good as you'd thought it would be?" Ivan asked after a while, staring blankly forward at nothing in particular. "Has your wish been granted?"

"My wish," Yao echoed, voice empty and dull. "Hah. The outside world is just a shell of what it used to be. Maybe I'll dream of Before when I die."

"I didn't think the dead could dream," said Ivan.

"Yet here I am." Yao scoffed quietly, turning and pressing his cheek gently against Ivan's chest. "You know, Ivan, I think, maybe, I'm in love with you."

"Oh, okay," Ivan said. "What is that?"

Yao laughed, softly, bitterly. He hadn't expected Ivan to know. And he supposed that made admitting his feelings easier. "Love is wanting to spend your whole life with someone; love is laughing at nothing and just wanting to be close; love is being together to the end." He mumbled, upset, especially by that last point. "At least, that's what I've been told. I think you're supposed to make your own definitions."

"I'm going to be with you to the end," said Ivan, turning his head to glance down at Yao.

"You're my only friend, you know that?" Yao mumbled. "I love you."

"Does this mean I love you?" Ivan responded softly, sitting up a bit and gently petting Yao's shoulder.

Yao let out a weary laugh, and leant back. "I guess it does."

i havent updated in ages. haha. cant wait for the next chapter. that'll be the last.

then there'll be an epilogue.