▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

❝ he's pretty cute for a monster❞
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The wind ruffles his hair, shadowing the longer locks over his eyes. Kaede pushes them aside and gazes up at the tips of Manhattan's buildings, with the background a purple-golden sky. He'd only been outside for a while, but he's already starting to see the liveliness of the city, comparable to the noise of his heart.

Memories weigh down on his chest too, but he tries to ignore them.

Deciding that he may be waiting long, Kaede chooses to distract himself with his phone. He notices two new messages and opens them, only to be struck with confusion.

| Sorry if this is too sudden.

| I'm just worried.

The same unknown number as before.

Shaking his head, he types in a message.

| sorry, who are you?

As he tucks his phone away, he hears Edith's voice. "Do you feel excited?"

Kaede looks to his left, seeing her happy smile. Her eyes are alight, body slack in ease. She seems relaxed to be here, a thought that soothes him greatly.

Kaede looks down, mumbling, "I guess."

He isn't lying. It does excite him, all the thoughts of his new school and the chance of restarting. As much as they frighten too, intrigue overshadows his fears. After all, he's wanted this for a long time, for four years spent holed up in a room.

Through his peripheral, he sees her nod. "Me too." Her eyes move to the pedestrians walking the pavements, body swaying left and right, bumping lightly into him repeatedly. "You know, it's been years since I've been here. As for Quentin, he's grown up a lot." A nostalgic sigh. "It's nice to know that you two will be friends."

Right.

Any moment soon and he'll meet him again.

That Quentin.

Nervously, he picks at his nails. "Tell me about him."

Edith's brows crease in thought. "There's not much to say since I'm sure he's changed a lot from when he was a child. But I know he's a really nice boy. Always willing to help. Maybe a bit sensitive. Oh, and he has a big appetite."

"He does?"

"He does."

Interesting. "Then," Kaede says. "He's a friendly person then?"

"Of course," she answers, brow arching at the question. "But you'll both be friends, won't you? You'll get to know him more. There's no need to ask me about him."

As though she'd forced an anchor down his throat, suddenly, his lungs grow heavy. "A friend," he murmurs. When was the last time I had one?

The last one, he remembers, the last one had left.

With a nod, Kaede promptly ends their conversation. He scans the place again; windows are lit up, people rushing and cars zooming by. He's going to get used to this, this atmosphere. This city and its people. This world and life.

How nice.

Then, moving his eyes to the side, his eyes widen when he notices someone moving hurriedly towards them. Wheat-gold hair and a familiar face. Undoubtedly, Kaede knows who it is.

Quentin.

Kaede immediately looks away, hiding his face.

"Hello," Quentin greets once he nears them. By the time he's arrived, Edith has stood and engulfed him in a hug, to which he returns just as tight.

Peeling away, he looks down at Kaede. Sensing his stare, Kaede looks up at him, muscles stiffening from shyness.

Attempting a polite smile, Kaede stands, legs jittery with anxiety. He feels a bit small, witnessing truly now that, eye-level, he only reaches up to Quentin's nose. It's not too short, and even Rain had been taller.

Rain.

Maybe he should stop obsessing over him now.

After all, he's trying to start anew.

The taller boy continues to stare at him blankly. Suddenly, he remarks, "Oh, you cut your hair."

Kaede frowns. "It looks weird?"

"No..." he says, brows furrowing as if to say 'I never said that?'. He smiles easily, not appearing tense or shy at all. "It looks good."

Kaede perks up at the compliment, blinking as he tries to smile loosely again.

Quentin turns away and his heart falls, though he maintains his smile, letting it fade slowly instead. Finally, the boy has noticed the bags piled on the ground. He stares at them for a time, most likely planning how to fit them in his car.

"Kaede and I will get these first," he says, waving a hand over the items.

His heart skips a beat at the casual usage of his name.

At that, Edith sits back down. "Alright," she says. Then, her eyes dart between her grandson and Quentin. Her gaze falls on Kaede. "Look at you, you're short."

Kaede gives her a deadpan stare. And yet, Quentin laughs, making Kaede widen his eyes. Oh? You're rather easygoing.

As they both walk away with a bag, Kaede pushing his in front of him while Quentin drags one behind him, the latter mentions, "Your name is Kaede Akagawa right?"

Hearing the correct pronunciation, Kaede nods, smiling a bit. He asks as well, "What's your name?"

"Quentin."

His expression goes flat. "I know that. Your full name."

They look at each other and Kaede frowns at him, wondering if the other boy is messing with him.

Quentin looks back ahead. "Quentin Theresa Breslow."

He hums, "Nice name."

"You think so? What does yours mean?"

"'Kaede' means 'maple tree'. I'm not sure about Akagawa."

"Poetic," he comments. "I don't know what my name means. Then again, a lot of English names these days are just a bunch of letters combined to sound aesthetically pleasing, no deep meaning."

Hearing him suddenly ramble a long line, longer than just a few words to maintain conversation and prevent them from sinking into awkward silence, Kaede immediately responds, "It's not just English names. My name means 'maple tree' and there's not even a story behind it. Not really poetic, just randomly chosen. It's just that a lot of characters have a meaning to them unlike a single letter 'a'."

Quentin nods. "True."

They fall silent after that, the air not really awkward. Rather, in fact, they both feel quite at ease after finally actually talking. Sort of.

They reach the car, a pretty Audi that stuns Kaede. In an instant, the fact is solidified that Quentin and his family are all wealthy. No wonder, Kaede thinks, that it's a private school in Manhattan he's going to. That Quentin goes to and he's been sponsored to attend.

Still admiring the sleek machine, Quentin suddenly asks, "Have you ever been to the city?"

He shoves the box into the back of the car, turning to him. Kaede gazes at him, at his features specifically. Attractive.

Could he be a model?

Models exist in New York, right?

Must be nice.

Envy pricks his heart.

Kaede's brows furrow, studying the other boy's genuine interest. A brief moment later, he answers, "Only the one near my town. But I've rarely explored there. And I've never been to any other city."

Quentin purses his lips. "Then you don't know much then," he observes, strangely thoughtful.

"Well, yeah." The box he holds squeezes in from the tightened grasp of his hands, answering the remark as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, which it is. "That's why you're here, aren't you? To be my guide?"

For some reason, the answer comes with a tentative smile.

"Of course. We're friends now."