As I look at the world passing me by through the train's window, the vivid flashback of a dream I have seen more than once abruptly comes back to me.

In those extremely detailed dreams, I am stuck behind the glass of a window. It is always the same window with a milk white sill in every dream, but it looks nothing like the window in my room. Though it is the same window, the scenery outside is never the same. But each and every time, the scenery is breathtakingly beautiful. It's a shame I only remember one of them. I think I saw it about three years ago, though I can't fathom how it still managed to remain in a corner of my mind I haven't visited in a long while.

In that dream, the world on the other side of the window was an icy shade of cobalt blue. A vast garden laid in front of me; the leaves, the flowers, the grass - everything was painted in that shade. I try to remember the color of the sky, but that bit perhaps didn't manage to catch my eye.

There were people outside. Four little boys dressed in brown were standing in a line pretending to be a train by putting their hands on each other's shoulders. I could hear their giggles as they passed me by. I remember seeing a chubby old man wearing monocles passing me by without glancing. I kept wondering why no one was looking at me, and pressed my face harder to the window. A man and woman passed me by. Finally, the woman, who wore blood red lipstick, glanced at me. But she only smirked and looked away, and continued walking with the man. I pressed my palms against the glass window, worrying about why they were not looking at me properly. I was right there. I was looking at them. It was a beautiful world outside. Then why was I inside? Why was I undeserving for a second glance?

Those dreams always ended with these thoughts. Waking up from them, I would turn beside me, and see Dawn lying right there, peacefully asleep. And I would think, if Dawn was with me, being stuck behind a window wouldn't be so bad. If Dawn looked at me, it didn't matter if no one else did.

But shattering all the illusions of the child that used to live within me, Dawn left, and I remained alone behind the glass window, forever trapped.

And then someone new came.

And I finally find myself on the other side of the window, in the blue garden, with the giggling kids and the monocles man and the gorgeous couple. They might still not look at me, but at least I am standing where they are, no longer trapped. At least, I no longer feel suffocated and jealous and worthless. At least, my palms no longer face a barrier as I inhale the sweet scented air.

At least, I am free.

My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn my head to the other side.

"What are you thinking about?" July asks.

I shake my head. "Nothing special."

"Did you forget I was here?"

"Of course not. I was thinking . . . about how you're here."

"So I'm nothing special." He pouts. He is sitting facing me with his cheek pressed to the seat's backrest, one leg on the seat and the other on the floor. The seat across from me as well as the ones on the other side of the aisle are empty. Most of the seats in this carriage is. So I don't have to worry much about being seen while talking to the air, and only alert myself when someone walks by the aisle.

"Stop that." I chuckle a little.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

How do I feel? I feel so many things at once that I can't even separate one feeling from the other anymore. All I know, is that nothing I feel is negative. Maybe that will change after a few days, when homesickness kicks in and I start worrying about all the people I left behind and become restless to go meet Dawn. But I reply, "I feel great."

"Really? You're not scared of the uncertainty?"

Getting out of my routined life where there are less chances of things going wrong is surely intimidating, and a step I never imagined my coward self could take. But all I wanted was to give him my full time, so even if there are many challenges ahead, I will get through it, and say goodbye properly. "I would probably be scared if I was alone. But I am not."

He smiles. "Mm-hmm. Me too." As soon as he says that, a yawn escapes from my mouth, making my eyes feel like heavy sandbags. I blink and struggle to keep them open. I now remember that I didn't get any sleep last night.

Last night, huh? I wonder why it feels like last night happened in some other planet. The me from last night and the me from tonight are feeling completely the opposite.

"You haven't slept in a while," July observes. "Hey, what time it is?"

I take out my phone and check the time. "A little past 7." The train started at precisely 6:35 pm, and our destination is a little less than five hours away.

"Try to stay awake till 9."

"What happens at 9?"

He grins. "If I heard it right, we'll cross the Jeremiah bridge. It's also an experience!"

I smile in excitement. The Jeremiah bridge is the longest bridge in this country, standing over the biggest river too. "Okay, then."

To stay awake, I do the only thing I can do : reading Norwegian Wood. More like, reading Dawn's messages for me. I open the book to the bookmarked page, finding a photo of me and Dawn inside. It was July's idea to use this photo as a bookmark, so whenever I open the book, I can get a glimpse of the two of us, together, from the days we could be together.

This photo is more recent, I suppose from late 2017, a few months after the single most serious conversation between me and Dawn, where he told me where he wanted to be buried. It was taken by Destiny, in Dawn's room. I think it was around the time she learnt the word 'gay' and started pestering us about whether we were so or not. She might as well had been making photo albums on us to quench the thirst of her fantasies.

In the photo, Dawn and I are simply sitting on his bed, a book in my hand and a headphone around his neck. He was showing the camera a wide smile that effortlessly reached his eyes, while my smile was smaller, more composed, like it always was in the occasions I would be forced to take a photo. Looking at the photograph is like dropping a several kilograms of weight over my chest, but the sight of that smile is all that matters.

So I continue from the night at the cafe. The fourth note is on the last page of chapter 1, about the last line.

"'Because Naoko never loved me' - just those five words, Cedar. Do you hear the pain in Toru's voice? We don't need ears to hear his voice; it resounds from those five words. You love someone with your all, but they don't love you back the same - do you ever wonder how it feels, Cedar?"

No, Dawn, but I do wonder if you have written all these just to hurt me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I wonder how Dawn felt. I open them and turn to July. He is looking at the seat diagonal to ours with a smile on his face, where a middle aged couple are being very lovey-dovey with each other. I have never met a boy who is so into romance.

"-do you ever wonder how it feels, Cedar?"

I hold the book tighter, a lump forming in my throat. July senses my eyes on him, so he brings his gaze to mine. "What is it, Cedar?"

I shake my head. "Nothing." I take another deep breath and press my temple against the glass window, and repeat, "Nothing."

Nothing I will admit to myself.

Then I move to the next one, glad that July isn't pushing it. Then again, he never does. I am the one who keeps pushing him till the point he breaks.

The next one was in page 21, about my second favorite character - Toru's roommate, whose real name I have forgotten by now for how less times it is used. He is just called Storm Trooper by everyone.

"Okay, but Storm Trooper is iconic! I can't stop laughing at his ridiculousness. I haven't laughed like this in a while. Hey Cedar, do you remember that guy in our 5th grade class, who claimed that he had started masturbating to his china-rose plant? I haven't thought about that guy in years. Strange how memories work."

I quietly chuckle at the memory Dawn has just reminded me of. That guy's name was Cooper Halliday-I remember it clearly-and he was those kind of kids who lied about almost everything to make themselves more interesting. And what's funnier is that most people believed him. Masturbating to a plant wasn't his most ridiculous lie. I think he had said once that his parents were penguins in their previous lives and they mated for forever, and hence they would marry in every reincarnation and Cooper will be born everytime, so he will stay with Earth till the end of time. Though Dawn didn't believe it, he was fascinated by the idea.

I am glad this note is comparatively lighter, though that one sentence - I haven't laughed like this in a while - still manages to sting my heart. Because Dawn laughed at just about everything.

I exhale, forcibly pushing self-blame to the back of my mind with all my effort. I close my eyes again. I think I would need a few minutes of break after every note I read, or I will just crumble apart.

That's when I feel something heavy on my shoulder.

I open my eyes and turn, my cheek meeting his soft hair. "What?" I ask, surprised. It's not like he will sleep.

"Nothing. I'm tired. Does it bother you?" he asks.

"No," I reply without hesitation. No one else can see him anyway. And the weight of a head on my shoulder doesn't feel too bad, especially when I am trying to drown myself in the guilt of not being reliable enough.

July has been behaving somewhat different with me ever since we left. I can't explain how, except it feels like he is more intimate with me.

That is not a good sign.

And the fact that I don't hate it, is even more so.

So he stays there, and I move on to the next one. This is gonna be the last one I will check for tonight. I'm afraid if I read more, I wouldn't be able to stand up again.

This one goes to my most dreaded page, and I had no doubt at all that Dawn would definitely have something to say about it. This is the page I cried at for the first time while reading this book. This is the page where I get tear-jerked every time I re-read. This is the page that made me fall in love with this book.

This is the page that taught me death.

When the twelve years old me had cried to this page, he had no idea how he would be turning into Toru Watanabe only five years later.

And for here, Dawn said-

"Ah, I think now I know how you would feel when I'm gone, Cedar. No, if you are reading this, then I'm already gone. Does it hurt a lot? Did a part of you disappear along with me? I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I had no choice. If I did, I would choose you over everything. But this was how Dawn Ambers was supposed to end. No matter what I chose, a forever was never written for us."

This was how Dawn Ambers was supposed to end.

A forever was never written for us.

I stare at the note with unblinking eyes, my lungs turning into plastic. My head is getting messy again, like the wreckage of an afterstorm. I try to gulp in saliva, but my throat is blocked again. The insect is growing bigger and stronger. I don't even notice when July's head has been removed from my shoulder. Only when July calls me, do I snap out.

I look, to find July pointing behind him with his fingers. I follow it and see an old man standing beside my seat.

"Deep in daydreams, are we, young man?" he says, his smile wrinkling his face further.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I say, embarrassed. My voice comes out slightly unstable. Hope it's not too noticeable.

"That's okay. I do the same. Do you mind if I sit here?"

I smile. "Please."

So he sits across from me, letting out a grunt as he does. I am glad he didn't try to sit beside me and be too friendly. The old man puts his small bag beside him and exhales satisfyingly. When he raises his hand to adjust his glasses, I notice how the other sleeve of his dark brown jacket is hanging limp, devoid of a hand inside. I can't help but think how he lost it.

"My name is Harold," says the old man. Oh no, he is making conversation. He sure does look like someone who will. Surely it will be easier than talking to a girl? "What is yours, young man?"

"It's um, it's Cedar." Is it okay to tell my name to strangers? "Nice to meet you."

He nods. "Cedar, is it? I have always loved the fragrance of cedarwood."

"I have never seen them, unfortunately."

"Oh, you haven't?"

I shake my head. "But I will. I am on my way to go to a cedar forest in a town called Greenwoods."

At first, I suggested to go to the town July was born in, as it is right next to ours so we could just take a bus and go. But July was heavily against it. 'Every nook and corner of that town has bad memories,' he told me. So when we were considering picking a random place on the map, I abruptly remembered the conversation Dawn and I had that day. He had mentioned Greenwoods quite randomly, but a certain destination is better than no destination, especially for a coward amateur traveller like me.

The schedule though, didn't go in our favor. The cedar forest of Greenwoods is at least two and a half hours away from the Greenwoods train station by bus. We will reach the station after 10 o'clock, and of course there is no bus at that time. The earliest bus to head to the cedar forest is at 5 in the morning. July and I decided that we will take the third bus at 9 am after having breakfast.

But the biggest problem is we have no idea where to spend the night.

July suggested spending the night at the train station instead of spending money on a motel. It will be a new experience, he said. Many people do live at train stations, as far as I know.

The lack of hygiene will probably bother me to a great extent, and also the paranoia of getting my money stolen. But I can't seek luxury and safety when I'm all alone wandering the outside world. It is something I will have to deal with.

"I see, that's wonderful!" The old man laughs as he pushes the sliding window open beside him. Then he asks, "Are you saving that seat for someone?" He points to the seat beside mine with his eyes.

I grin. "No, my imaginary friend is sitting here right now." This is the second time I have said that today, and for some reason, as childish as it sounds, I quite enjoy saying it. It's the only believable term I can use to let the world know that I'm not walking alone. July chuckles at that, and so does Mr. Harold.

"Imaginary friends would never betray you so you can fully trust them, don't you think, young man?"

I nod, giving July a brief sideway glance, which he doesn't return. "That's true."

"So then, what made you suddenly want to visit a cedar forest?" The man is asking a lot of questions, and though I would be slightly annoyed in any other case, I find myself to be enjoying the simple conversation. He is definitely not as annoying as Edgar was the first day.

I reply honestly. "My best friend once told me he wanted to go there. And this felt like a good time to get out of my home."

He nods understandingly. "Where is your best friend, then?"

I take a deep, quiet breath. "He is gone."

Mr. Harold nods again, and smiles sadly. When he raises his only existing hand to his glasses, I notice a gold ring on his ring finger. Then he says, "So is mine."

We smile at each other, and connection is felt in the air; a bond is formed, as simply as that.

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Hello lovely readers!

Looks like yo girl can't write short chapters! :D

The dream in the beginning of the chapter is an actual dream I have seen. I have put lots of dreams I remember in this book, because many of my dreams hold symbolic meanings. I'm really excited to share more of these.

Thanks a lot for reading. Take care and go give a hug to all the people you love. You never know who might need it.

And on that note, *gives you a virtual hug*

- love, Poma