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Saparata takes a tentative step closer towards the waterfall. There, he sees a glimpse of dark hair, black, some may say, but Saparata calls it his favourite shade of purple. The boy sits contented near the edge of the platform, just a step or two away from the waterfall and stream. The height doesn't seem to bother him at all.
The white haired boy takes a few more steps closer, the sound of the water rushing down with urgency growing louder. He doesn't stop until he finds himself standing just one step behind the boy. He doesn't budge or flinch, attention stays right on the stream below him instead of Saparata.
He sits down beside the boy on the hard rocky edge. This time, he flinches just a little.
Saparata follows the boy’s gaze, towards the stream below the waterfall. It's calming, tranquil, beautiful. It’s a view Saparata rarely sees. He continues to admire it, taking in every detail, shape, colour, and depth this scenery holds.
Finally, the silence is broken.
“Hi.” Saparata says.
The boy, Fluixon, doesn't verbally reply. He instead ducks his head up, finally making eye contact with Saparata, sitting right beside him in his school uniform.
Saparata takes a good look at Fluixon. Hair, less tidier than usual. Eyes, as pretty as ever. His clothes, their school uniform with a sweater that’s a size too big for him. The sleeves bite into his palm, the way Fluxion likes it. He peels his eyes away from the boy.
Fluixon makes a noise which sounds like an exhale. “Why are you here?” he says, his quiet voice almost drowned by the sound of the rushing lake.
Saparata shrugs. “Why are you skipping?” The white haired boy instead counters. Silence comes from the other side, Fluixons attention now fully given to the lake once again. Saparata knows he hears him, knows that he knows he’s right.
Fluixon doesn't reply. His attention now trails lower, to the bottom of the stream where the water flow calms down a little, slightly steadier. He watches how the water so easily flows over the rocks with no difficulty, no pain. His facial expression doesn't change.
Saparata quietly sighs. He wishes he could just inch closer until the awkward space of silence between them disappears. He wishes that Fluixon would allow him to come closer. He wishes Fluixon would let him in, tell him everything. It remains a wish long embedded into Saparata’s mind since the day they met.
Saparata has already grown used to Fluixon’s behaviour. He replies when he wants to. He doesn't talk when he doesn't want to. It’s simple. Knowing this, he usually doesn't push Fluixon to speak or reply to anything.
But in times like this, Saparata spares an exception.
He inches closer, just a little. He isn't sure if Fluixon notices, but even if he did he doesn't react.
Saparata clears his throat. “Flux,” he says.
As expected, he doesn't acknowledge it. Not immediately, at least. After a considerable amount of time spent staring into a stream, not even focused anymore, Fluixon tentatively turns over.
He faces Saparata, expressionless. “Why are you here?” Fluixon once again repeats. “Aren't you meant to be in school?” He doesn't further elaborate on either question, doesn't say anything else. Just stares at Saparata, eyes blank with something unreadable.
“School hours are over.” He ignores the former question, looking away from Fluixon, arms returning to hug his knees. “Isn't it a little dangerous, sitting so close to the edge?”
Fluixon shrugs. “It’s not dangerous if it’s deliberate.”
That earns a small what? from Saparata, before he frowns. “It’s the same. You can still fall, on purpose or not.
Again, Fluixon doesn't say anything else. Just continues to stare forwards, not particularly at anything. Saparata’s patience slowly begins to wear thin.
Before Fluixon disappeared, he’d still regularly attended school. But it was obvious. Obvious that he wasn't acting the way Flux normally would. His responses were delayed, he would stare out, not particularly at anything for long amounts of time. He’d stop replying to messages in any groupchats discussing matters of schoolwork, and soon, he'd also stop replying to Saparata’s direct messages. His texts and calls eventually stopped going through, not delivering.
And that is exactly why Saparata came here. The spot where Fluixon had previously told Saparata to find him when he’s dead. Saparata used to think he was joking.
They stay like this for a while. With Fluixon looking in no other direction other than forwards, body not budging even when the wind bites through his thin uniform, and Saparata constantly waiting for the former to speak. Saparata looks down, his hands getting more red and colder as each second passes. He wonders how Fluixon stays so composed, always wearing a facade that makes him seem calm.
At school, Fluixon rarely seemed agitated. To others, at least. Everyone would always say Fluixon is always content, composed. Not Saparata. He could usually read whatever emotion was kept behind his expressionless face.
He was proper, even down to the way he talked. He very rarely talked back, like he was scared. His hair was always kept neat, uniform tidy, posture upright and straight. He rarely frowned. One of the only times Saparata sees him frown is when he sees his prosthetic arm. The way he looks at it, disgusted, like having it on made him lesser. Saparata always wonders just why Fluixon doesn't like it.
Saparata takes a look at the boy beside him. His expression has changed, head lower now and his eyes looking nowhere in particular. His eyes are blank, eyebrows shaped into something different, something more distasteful. Saparata almost reaches his hand out. He really wants Fluixon to talk, just to say something. To prove that he’s actually alive and well.
The white haired boy swallows. He decides against his usual way. “Flux. Y’know,” he mutters, voice just loud enough for the other to hear over the stream. Fluixon doesn’t turn over. Saparata frowns, unsure if this is the right decision. “Y’know can't keep quiet forever,” he finally says.
Fluixon almost winces, eyes widening, before lowering. He turns his head towards Saparata, the boy looking right back at him. He feels his body turn warm. “I don't have to tell you anything,” he spits, eyebrows furrowing just a little. A glimpse of expression returning to his face. Saparata isn't entirely sure if that is a good thing or not.
Saparata holds his breath for a second too long. “You want to.”
A beat.
“You don't know what I want.” Fluixon looks away. His voice is stern, but an undoubtable tremble is there.
Saparata feels like he may explode. It’s because you won't let me in, he wants to say. He doesn't say that. “Then tell me. Tell me what you want, Flux.” Saparata demands, eyes still staring straight at Fluixon. He notices the slight furrowing of eyebrows.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Fluixon looks back towards Saparata. This time, his eyes are laced with something different, something more vulnerable. He opens his mouth briefly, before deciding he cannot find the correct words. Fluixon swallows, and for a slight moment he looks away. “I don't know,” he whispers. His voice is low, feeble, as if that isn't what he planned to say.
Saparata bites the inside of his mouth. He wants to inch closer, until every inch of emotion in Fluixon’s face is visible. “You don't know.” He instead repeats, no negativity behind the words. Before he’s able to say anything else, ask Flux why, a voice interrupts him.
Fluixon now looks weaker, smaller. Face more pained, eyes focusing on the rock below him. “Saps,” he winces at himself, then swallows.
“Saps, I thought I would die today.” Fluixon eventually forces out. He looks as if he’s unsure, his hands lifting to fidget with the trim of his sweater before uselessly faltering. He subconsciously bites his tongue, spacing out, before the taste of blood stops him. He swallows the taste of crimson down.
Saparata continues to look at the boy, eyes steady. His eyebrows furrow, just for a second, then he looks away. The wind continues to blow, interrupting the dense silence and the hint of vulnerability between them. Then it fades, the sound of the wind gets drowned in Fluixon’s laughter, like a chuckle. Saparata frowns again. How can you laugh, he wants to ask, but knows better to do that. He just looks at the boy.
Fluixon continues to laugh. There's no humor behind it. He just laughs, and laughs for the sake of it. Saparata looks at him like he has gone insane, but doesn't stop him. He knows what Fluixon is like. You interrupt him while he’s talking about anything relatively personal, vulnerable, he realises what he’s doing then stops. No one talks about it afterwards. Saparata looks at him, really looks at him.
He’s not even happy. He’s just shaking, just trembling, just laughing.
“Saps,” he says again, almost choking between a laugh, voice too lighthearted for a conversation like this. “But now that you're here, just how am I meant to die?” Fluixon chokes out, eyes beginning to water. He stops laughing, ending in a small scoff. He doesn't look at the waterfall, the stream, and doesn't look at Saparata either.
Saparata doesn't say anything. He only continues to solemnly look at Fluixon, head slightly tilted in a way that makes him hard to ignore to the other. Saparata exhales, making the brave decision to reach a hand towards Fluixon. He grabs the other’s arm, his mechanical arm. He lets his own fingers slide down his forearm until it reaches Fluixon’s. The metal is smooth, reflective in the setting sun. He doesn't resist, just lets Saparata hold the arm. His arm.
Fluixon looks like he’s about to cry any second now, but he doesn't stop. “I’d wear my uniform and leave, and they’d think I’ve gone to school. I would come here instead,” he whispers, almost hoping Saparata wouldn't be able to hear him. “I got rid of my phone. I told Elanuelo that I had lost it. Then, I’d die. I’d just stop existing.” Fluixon chokes, the words coming out his mouth only making him more uncomfortable. At this point, Saparata doesn't even consider it a whisper anymore. It's even lower.
“But–” he pauses, “It isn't so easy, is it?” Fluixon chuckles, only for the sake of doing it. The smile immediately falters. “Today was going to be the last time that I’d come here.” He looks up at Saparata, eyes beginning to water despite his resistance. “Why did you come?”
Saparata gulps, throat empty of words. Flux was going to kill himself. Flux was going to kill himself today. He doesn't know why he came. He only knows that Fluixon would be here. Saparata thinks, tries really hard to think of a response. Nothing comes to him. Instead, a weak “Why?” is all he responds with.
“Why?” Fluixon repeats almost too quickly. “Saps, I have nothing,” he laughs emptily. “My family hates me. Elanuelo thinks I’m better off dead. I haven't seen Turkey since I came to Pandora. Ender moved away, and Cynikka doesn't acknowledge my existence.” Fluixon bites his tongue, just staring at nothing in particular momentarily, eyebrows scrunched. Only Saparata knows what those names mean to him. He continues, “I have nothing to achieve at school. I have no friends that actually like me.” Fluixon hangs his head lower now. “Saps, I have nothing ahead of me. There’s no point.”
Saparata doesn't move. “You have me.”
“Don't tell me that.” Fluixon whispers after a second too long, voice breaking. “You don't get to say that.”
Fluixon looks away, raising an arm to wipe his eyes, the other arm still hopelessly clinging onto Saparata in hopes he doesn't let go. Saparata pretends to not acknowledge it, looking away. Fluixon chokes quietly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Saparata continues to look at the stream, the view of nature before him. Overgrown bushes. Water uselessly crashes down to the stream. Trees, large and tangled between eachother. He squints at them.
I have nothing ahead of me. He frowns. There’s no point.
Saparata doesn't realise when he starts talking. “You have me,” he repeats. “We have eachother. Right now we have this spot, this stream. We have our lives ahead of us.” Saparata turns his head towards Fluixon. “Isn't that enough? Isn't this how we’re meant to live?” He laughs humorlessly. The smile lingers on his lips, unfaltering, even when the wind sticks his hair to his mouth.
Fluixon doesn't reply, doesn't say anything. He continues to weep quietly, hiding behind himself even when it's just him and Saparata, nothing else. He swallows hard, his eyes still buried deep in his arm.
Saparata. When he first came to the school, Saparata was there. When he first got introduced to a group of friends, Saparata stayed and smiled. When they left for someone else, Saparata was still there. That’s not even it—even at home, when Elanuelo screamed and yelled, when Cynikka ignored him, Saparata would text him. He was always there, and he still is. And to think that if he wasn't here currently, right beside Fluixon, he might’ve been already dead. Dead deep into the woods, near the stream, where no one would find his body. No one except Saparata.
In the midst of choked gasps of air and messed up wet hair from tears, the dark haired boy mumbles something quiet, something that you could only hear if you paid attention. Luckily, Saparata always paid attention. “I don't understand,” he whispers into his sleeve.
Saparata faces the source of the voice immediately. He risks it, and moves just a little closer to Fluixon, their knees almost bumping into one another’s. “I’ll help you understand,” he whispers back, voice undoubtedly more steadier than the other’s. “You’re my best– closest friend, Flux. And I wouldn't trade that for the universe. Even if you hate yourself. Even if you think your existence is pointless. I’m not going to tell you to just, stop all those thoughts. I know it’s not that easy. But I do want to show you what's worth living for.” The white haired boy deliberately bumps his knee against the dark haired boy. The latter doesn't budge away.
Saparata continues, “And to answer your question from earlier, I came because I was worried. My messages wouldn't get through,” he slumps his shoulder forwards, muscles tensing. “And– and you weren't in school. I thought that… I thought that I’d be too late.” Saparata swallows the wave of sorrow down his throat. He hears momentary silence from beside him, before the breathing resumes, uneven and coarse.
Fluixon’s stomach twists. He hadn't expected Saparata to come either, let alone tell him why it’s worth living. He stops breathing for a second too long. Saparata really came.
He finally looks up, quickly rubbing his eyes before his vision blurs. He turns, to find Saparata staring at the view before them. Fluixon wants to ask how Saparata is staying put, saying everything like it’s that easy to tell him this. He instead trails the boy’s vision, staring ahead at the woods, not down at the stream.
Fluixon wants to say something. Respond to Saparata, thank him, say anything. His mouth betrays him, seemingly sears shut. Saparata takes the silence. “It’s a nice spot you’ve chosen here,” he admires. Fluixon only half nods, humming in agreement. “I think you're the reason why.” Fluixon blurts out.
Saparata turns to face the boy, an intrigued expression on his face. Fluixon’s eyes widen, having just said his thoughts aloud. He presses his lips together. “Why I’m here,” he has no choice but to continue, voice barely above a whisper. “I- I don’t know. I mean- I guess you’re the reason why I delayed it.” Flux ducks his head low. “Whenever I try to.. do it, I think about you. That– That maybe someone would care about my death,” he mumbles, sentence breaking off. He grips onto Saparata’s hand, tighter. “That you would.”
Fluixon lets his tears run. Before he’s able to turn away from Saparata, the white haired boy hugs the other with his free arm, gently tugging Fluixon’s head towards his shoulder. The dark haired boy doesn't resist, only continues to quietly sob into Saparata’s shoulder, who gently pats the other’s back. He loosely rests his hand against Fluixons waist, which he notices has gotten thinner.
Saparata hugs him tighter. “We’ll get through this together,” he whispers into Fluixon’s ear. Saparata hears the hitched breathing even out beside him slowly, the boy’s full weight leaned into him. Then it lifts—Fluixon lifts his head back up to look at Saparata, who appears off guard at the sudden movement. He doesn't speak, only wipes his thumb underneath the other’s eyes, feeling the warm skin beneath against the wind growing harsher into dawn.
“Okay.” Fluixon says quietly. His attention doesn't waver, doesn't blur. Saparata smiles, “Okay,” he repeats. After a moment of looking into one another, emotion raw, true. Fluixon breaks eye contact.
“I don't know what to do at home.” Fluixon finally states. He loosens his grip around Saparata’s hand, retreating it to fidget with his own sleeve. Saparata too, looks away, before shaking his head. “Forget about them. Forget about all of them. You have me, you’ll always do,” he reassures. “Even if it’s only us. We’ll do it together. Fluixon gulps. “Okay.”
Once again, it’s only them left in the stream. The sky begins to darken, covering the endless horizon above in a pinkish purple colour, a colour like Fluixon’s eyes when the sun hits at the right angle Saparata would describe as. The wind no longer bites, the leaves beside them rustling quieter than it has the whole time. The stream, still as loud as it is, but there are things that won't change no matter how much its surroundings do.
The same silence, the same view as before when Saparata first came, yet this time it's covered in a sense of hope and reassurance. Fluixon looks over to the edge. It’s still not frightening to him, not really, but he doesn't feel a pull towards it anymore. It becomes just another spot he has visited.
“D’you wanna go somewhere else?” Saparata questions, “It’s getting dark.” Fluixon only nods, eyes still focused on the waterfall. Saparata gets up first, lending a hand towards the other. He takes it without a word and doesn't let go, just grips it like it’s the only thing that proves he’s still alive and not hallucinating.
Saparata squeezes back, beginning to move away from the spot that they’ve shared just moments before. Neither of them look back, only holding their memory of the scenery in their head the way they remember.