Catch a Glimmer of Your Star

A glowing star

It was all his fault—

Agony swept through every nerve in his body, crisscrossing lightning. It set his emotions on fire.

Because of me, Sunny—

No, no, no, no, no, no—

Basil wanted to die right then and there.

Sunny's lost half his vision, probably for the rest of his life—

He's going to hate me—

I deserve to be abandoned again—

A warm hand held his own.

Basil blinked, the feeling of that hand so familiar and yet it came from such a buried long-lost memory.

He looked, and saw that the hand that clasped his belonged to Sunny.

But why?

You hate me, don't you?

He failed to make any sense out of it.

Basil blinked again. He felt burning tears streaming down his cheeks. He could barely see through the water that fogged his vision, but managed to make out the hazy outline of Sunny's face, revealing a faint image that he didn't understand.

He didn't understand why Sunny had stayed for him.

He didn't understand why Sunny didn't seem to be mad at him.

He didn't understand why Sunny held his hand after everything he'd done.

I don't deserve to have you by my side, Sunny.

Words failed to reach Basil's lips. He could only stay there and cry, expecting Sunny to leave him at any moment—

That Sunny holding his hand was all a lie, a hopeful illusion conjured up by his own delirium in his final, dying moments.

Basil waited for the truth to reveal itself, that he was all alone.

Heavy, burning seconds passed by.

Sunny stayed by his side.

I don't understand.

The terror of being abandoned yet again remained deep inside his heart. He couldn't escape it.

Sunny, you're still here.

He couldn't understand what he was seeing. Sunny ought to have disappeared by now.

This had happened so many times before, him imagining that Sunny was there, that Sunny had come back for him, only for reality to shatter his hopes—he was actually alone.

I don't want to be hurt by reality anymore.

To have his hopes be raised, and then for reality to snatch it all away—it was too painful to bear.

But in spite of all his attempts to clear up the truth, all his blinking and waiting and even wishing to be all alone again, Sunny was still there.

Sunny, or at least the image of him, just wouldn't go away.

An image wouldn't hold my hand for so long.

Basil felt something stirring in his chest.

An image wouldn't feel so warm.

He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to bring himself to think, much less say those words—

"Sunny came back for me."

Yet no matter how many times he blinked away tears, no matter how much he tried to clear his head—