It seems sad to see a boy sitting by himself in a corner. I heard from the others that he's been like that ever since he was in his younger years, but that doesn't mean anyone should get used to his lack of a presence. I approach him steadily, not wanting to give off the impression of being a dangerous entity.

"Hello there. Why don't we eat lunch together?" this is the best approach. Although I'm not being particularly genuine about my call, this is not a lie either. I really do want to get to know him better.

He looks at me with single exposed eye, and my gaze immediately moves from his iris to the bandages that cover a fourth of his face. If only he weren't so mundane and almost lifeless, he would have been a cute, popular boy. If only he smiled...

"Sure. You're new here, right? From a different elementary school as well."
"Yep. I don't really know anyone, so I might as well speak to you since I haven't seen you talk to a single soul since I got here, just the same!"

I hope my impression was good enough.

"I see." he nods, gesturing towards an empty seat. I pull it over to his desk and go over to my own, grabbing my lunch from my bag. I prop myself down onto the chair and wait for him to bring out his own food, but he sits there, staring at me.

"Don't you have lunch?"
He shook his head.
"Why not?"
He seemed to think long and hard on what to say, and eventually, he shrugged his shoulders without saying anything.

My first impression on this boy was that he had the kind of family that deprived him of things he had all the rights to claim. Like money, decent clothing - not that I can mention anything, as we are currently dressed in our winter uniforms - or quarters, food. But his next statement seemed to have snapped me out of that worry.

"I just didn't feel like eating today."

And so it was replaced with a different kind of fuss. He might not be taking care of himself, maybe out of depression or sheer laziness. Although how much I asked him questions, there is something I still cannot quite discern in regards to this boy's very being. It was... very difficult to explain. There was a certain giddiness that crept up my back whenever I would try to analyze his personality, and my thoughts would immediately repulse the idea of digging through his many masks.

He was a variant. There was so much to his small frame, but it was undeniably hollow, in an inscrutable fashion. In those thirteen minutes that I have sat with him, chewing my meal with my usual, fabricated gusto, I have fathomed only one truth about how he was living.

He didn't leave even a memory.

* * *

In several months that seasons started to change, his atmosphere gradually began to switch to a bubble more suited for people our age. He was filling up with new things, and his revolting hollowness had been taken over by a sense of satisfied cheerfulness. He seemed to have made many more connections, but what worried me was the fact that his eye still failed to seem to belong to that of a living human being.

He now had a dream and an ambition of his own, but the ulterior motives that lie behind these frivolous wishes troubled me like water under a bridge.

"Hey, Oliver. Why do you want to get out of the countryside that badly?" one of his many new companions put an arm around his shoulder, earning a sigh from the latter.
"And why do you want to know that kind of information so badly, hm?"
"Probably because he wants to run off to some nerdy store. Ain't that right, one-eye?" another one of his good fellows butt in.

He nodded.

"But ah, that kind of thing still seems so far away..."
"Don't worry. You'll be able to get there soon. After junior high, you'll be able to get a parttime job so you can save for a week's trip."

He smiled, and it sent shivers down my spine. It was ugly. It was something that no one of the living was capable of, and it made my mind churn. It was not sad, nor was it of vehemence. I shuddered in distaste, for it was the exact opposite of having mixed emotions; it was empty.

"Exactly what I'm planning to do!"

I once wished for him to smile, but this kind of monkey he has formed was not a caricature I desired to see.

"Let's all go together! How's that sound?" a different person this time, a girl with long, teal hair, decided to involve herself further into their matters. He blanched. This time, I was relieved by his disappointment, as it was clearer than his unrealistic show of joy.

"I don't want you there with us, okay? In fact, I don't want anyone with me when I go to the city."
"Aw, that sucks. We'll stalk you, then."
"Sure, I'd like to see you try." he snickered. It was deafening. "Well, the bell's gonna ring in a few. Gotta get to your desks now."

His group bickered for a good while, before they picked themselves up and performed their usual rituals.
"Good luck!"
"Good luck."

* * *

He had walked with us on the way home, and it seemed as though he blended well with the people he began to get used to. But somewhere in my knowing, I could see he didn't want to exist among the many men that populated this world.

As soon as we began to speak about personal matters, he had snapped and flinched from one of our companions' touch. Either the kiss of words was poison for him, or it was not a very great subject matter.

"I'm sorry, Oliver. I didn't mean to bring it up."
"Nah, it's fine. I'm not that kind of person anymore, so it's no big deal."
"But still, I feel guilty. I know you don't want to remember anything about your younger years but--"
"I said it's fine. It doesn't sadden me or anything of the sort."

"Hey, you sure you're fine? Len here seems to be so set on apologizing."
"Really, Len. It's all good. I don't know why you're so panicked about this. Right, Fukase?"

I didn't notice he was referring to me, and I simply nodded in a rushed response to a forced query. It seemed panicked, disturbed.

"Really? Thank goodness. I thought you would be mad."
"Mad? Why, though? Len didn't mean anything bad, so I don't really care in particular."
"You really are a nice person, Oliver. Sorry if I disappoint you all the time." our second companion scratched his cheek, and we continued to walk towards our respective places. He gave out another one of those bone-chilling convexes of his lips you'd usually refer to as a smile, and gave one of his 'friends' a pat on the back. His expression was so chaotic that I was fearing for the fact he might be aiming to kill.

"Nah, you're fine. Let's just cut this stuff and think happy."

Think happy...

Large burdens coming from your mouth, I see. I wish you luck.