Fog surrounds the streets of childhood. Sunken in muddled and hazy memories sit little lights of a past life. So much forgotten, yet so much remembered, forever burned into the mind.

In the backyard of a kindergarten that ceased to exist with time, a generation of kids lets their minds go wild with adventures. Cowboys fighting monsters, going to the moon and finding treasures.

Abuzz with life and song, the little ones play scattered all over the place. Hide and seek amidst the humble trees and recycled playplaces, soccer with an arc painted on the wall with chalk. Some play with toys that have seen better years, some play in a seesaw that could be deemed a safety hazard. Looking over them, one of the caretakers sits while her older coworker smokes a cigarette outside, standing by the entrance.

Meanwhile, you played in a sandbox. Mighty castles stood after you lifted a flowerpot, and to dust they returned. The sand was dry, but with the resilience of a kid at play, you kept trying to find ways to build your castles.

By your lonesome you played, your only companion being a dinosaur that watched your empires rise and fall.

This is at least how you remember this day. Whatever happened yesterday, or tomorrow, was lost to time. Except for this, this unremarkable and mundane day..

A sob.

Someone was sobbing near you.

The exact moment you got up and searched for them is a missing link. What you do remember, is seeing a red haired girl with her head sunken onto her knees lying against a big gray metal box. A few innocent questions got you both talking. When you asked why she was crying, she said it was because no one wanted to play with her. So, you asked her if she’d like to play with you.

At that moment she locked her fidgety eyes with yours, and gasping in amazement, you noticed how one of her eyes was fiery red, and the other was a golden amber.

With a bottomless curiosity, you asked her about her eyes, why they were different colors, if she had some kind of super power or such. The girl avoided looking at you, obviously uneasy at your interrogation, but your childish obliviousness didn’t allow you to notice.

It wasn’t until you said that she looked super cool that her head turned to you again, and unnoticed by your gaze, her cheeks turned a hue of red.

Wordlessly, she followed you to the sandbox. You tell her you’re building a castle, and she tells you you need to wet the sand. With that, the two snuck inside the classroom. You reached for your water bottle, filled with juice at home. Meanwhile, the girl stole a page from the caretaker’s newspaper.

Going back outside with the items hidden under your clothes, you reach the sandbox again.

You take a generous sip of your juice before pouring it on the sand, but it wasn’t enough to make any substantial difference. On her side, the girl tore the newspaper page in half.

“Look, look!” She excitedly turns to you. “My papa taught me how to make hats!”

Folding the paper over and over, she made two shoddy looking paper hats and gave you one.

And so, began the game.

“I am knight Anon Ymous!”

“And I am Captain Houshou Marine!”

The start of a beautiful friendship, and a horrible heartache.

~*~

Turning their heads as she passed, every boy with a working pair of eyes ogled her. She notices the attention, and giving in to a little ego trip, she pronounces the steps of her legs in an exaggerated manner.

Marine, one of the most popular girls in the school, walked to class alongside her friends. Chit chat passes her by, from the eyes boys gave her to the jealous bickering of girls.

Senpai and kouhai alike were love struck for her. Sixteen, the bloom of life, and blessed with beauty to accompany her on her journey to womanhood.

High school gossip twists everything that it touches to unrecognizable blabber, no one truly knew Marine. To some, she was a slut, to others, she was an angel.

To you, she was your best friend.

Entering the classroom after waving her friends goodbye, Marine heads over to your seat and slams the desk to get your attention. Shaken out of your senses, you see the manga in your hands, and Marine with her mischievous smile standing over you.

“Morning!” She beamed.

“I almost tore it apart…!” You pointed at your manga, while your voice berated her with a snarky playfulness in your tone. A giggle escaped Marine’s lips.
The morning passes you two by talking, while you felt an uneasy itch on your shoulder. As if someone had been eyeing you.

There’s that confidence and familiarity between you that only a lifetime together could provide. Masculinity and femininity had set their wall between the growing boy and girl, and yet their friendship stood. So it stood after hobbies, clubs and friend groups differed. You always found the time for each other, and you’d revert back to the little twats you grew up being. Always friends. Solely friends.

Marine didn’t know it, perhaps she would never, but your heart did. Over ten years trailed behind you two, it would be impossible to pinpoint the moment it happened, like a needle in the hay. But at some point, you felt it. Something deeper than mere love. A feeling that you couldn’t find looking at no one else.

But that thing’s better left buried. The risk of losing a friendship, of sullying a bond. Love taints so many things with its bothersome emotions.

This is the kind of thing that men grow to regret. A thought you mustn’t revisit in the same way you shouldn’t scratch a mosquito bite, but for the spineless, it’s all there is.

~*~

For the past few days one of the popular girls has been talking to you. Nakiri Ayame. There’s something offly coy about her behavior. You could tell at first glance. In her mannerisms there’s an exaggerated innocence, a sort of forced cuteness to make herself more alluring. Could’ve been a sixth sense, or just superstition.

She’d search for you in the morning and greet you, finding excuses to make small talk, asking for help with the most basic problems of homework, asking about your club, just about anything. Once again, you picked up on her body language. One hell of a whore, the kind of whore who pretends to act like anything but one.

Today, Marine had club practice. You waved her goodbye and set out for home.

“Anon!” Called out a voice to you, and you saw Ayame walking towards you, who joined you in your walk.

Ayame began throwing at you a barrage of questions, each one getting more personal until she reached the topic she’d bother you about.