Fish In A Bowl (TianShan)

Why Should I Touch You?

"He will come, but not right now," the Old Boy would say without meeting his eyes. Every day, he was assured that his Little Boy would come, but he didn't show up, not even once.

"Tell me. Truth," he pleaded. Days passed after he cried and cried and he finally regained the strength to stop, but then it seemed that the tears left him and latched itself on the Old Boy who heaved and shook his head, weeping bitterly. "Tell me!"

He demanded for the truth but in all honesty, he dreaded the answer to his questions. Nights and days, spent thinking about the boy and his adventures in the vast world outside, a place that wasn't part of his. A place where beautiful women and pretty girls walked in abundance. His Little Boy might have won himself a lovely little bride and completely forgotten about him.

All he ever wanted was the boy, and he might lose everything all over again.

The Old Boy wiped his face with a handkerchief and smiled at him sadly, although determination shone in his eyes as he declared his next words.

"I will bring him here, to be with you."

Almost immediately, that huge room that belonged to him was swarmed with servants and handymen. By the order of the Old Boy, his tank was draped with a black velvet curtain, so the outsiders would never see him. The merman consented and spent his hours idly drifting inside, listening to the loud noises of things constructed and being moved and removed.

When did everything change? Just to see the boy, so many things that he didn't understand should be done. He used to just quietly come visit him and stand before the glass without saying a word, but now. . . Things. Complicated things are being done like a ritual, or a prayer.

Something must be wrong.

But for the sake of his longing, he patiently waited without any complaints. What is a little noise compared to the happiness that he might be rewarded with for being a good little fish?

When the noise and all the fuss subsided, he heard a soft knock on the glass and the Old Boy spoke.

"Sorry for the long wait, friend, but he's here now."

"Little Boy!" he called, darting to and fro, searching for an opening to finally see the boy he missed so much. Someone pulled aside the curtain and the room seemed brighter than before, causing him to shrink back, squinting against the light. White curtains fluttered softly as gentle wind from the open window drifted inside the room.  That window, he couldn't even remember if he ever saw someone open it, but now. . .

His gaze fell on a bed right next to his tank and his smile fell, replaced by confusion. His Little Boy slept peacefully, but half of his face was wrapped in white, so were his legs and his arms. The pink lips that would playfully grin and blow on his saxophone were pale and chapped and the fingers that were visible weren't the same anymore. Those were skin and bones, not too unlike the bones he gathered in his dream.

The healthy human that would fight the urge to blink for the fear of missing a second of admiring his merman's beauty, now had his eyes closed, oblivious to what he's missing right in front of him.

"Wake up," he gently called, tapping the glass. "Little Boy, wake up!"

He didn't stir. The answers came in beeps and whirs, the humming of strange machines carefully stacked right between the bed and the wall.

What has become of his Little Boy?

The merman searched the room for the Old Boy, his eyes wild with questions that he had no way of pulling out from beneath his chest, and accusations, for he knew no one to blame.

"Why?! Why?!" he shouted, baring his teeth at the miserable old man. He exhaled, producing a cloud of bubbles and in a quick, feral smoothness, his tail lashed out and slammed on the glass in a violent thump. Anger washed all over him and exploded as he pounded on the glass, wordlessly demanding explanations.

The old man visibly jumped in alarm, for it was the first time he ever witnessed the creature in such agitated, almost murderous state.

Why did he let things go too far?

The Old Boy fell on his knees and cried, asking for forgiveness and voiced all his regrets right in front of him. He spoke of carelessness and oversight, apologized desperately for encouraging He Tian on his foolish endeavor.

The merman understood the anguish, but everything else was irrelevant. To him, nothing matters but the boy and his smile, and right now all of it seems to disappear, just like a handful of sand slipping between his fingers.

Why did they ever wish to touch? They should've been content with seeing each other smile. Just being here, in this room, knowing that they'll always have each other forever.

Wasn't that enough?

Would love be impossible to humans without touch?

Day after day, he watched over the sleeping figure beyond the glass, wishing for him to acknowledge his presence, even slightly, with a curious turn of the head and an amused frown.

The merman waited for each second to stretch into the other, longing for those ugly, black eyes to sparkle again at the sight of him.