"So I guess we'll be living together for a while," Sunny said, scratching his head nervously.
Basil didn't know what to say. His head threatened a storm of emotions. Did he even hear Sunny correctly? They were going to be living together? Why now? Filled with a gnawing, irrepressible anxiety, his thoughts became all muddled. What had happened to him and his already shattered life? What would happen to Sunny...?
Sunny smiled.
The light that glimmered in Sunny's eye was precious.
Seeing that smile, the storm in Basil's head calmed. That smile reassured Basil that Sunny wasn't mad at him. With this relief that only Sunny could provide, his terrifying emotions faded away.
Basil smiled back.
As long as Sunny was smiling and happy, Basil could let himself rest. He could momentarily let go of his need to control his overwhelming emotions.
I was afraid you would be angry to live with me, Sunny.
"I'll try to make everything up to you," Sunny spoke in a more reassuring voice. "'Cause of that fight we had."
"I—It's okay, Sunny," Basil said. "I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? I can tell my mom if you aren't okay with moving in with me."
"I'm okay with it..."
Covered in bruises and aching all over, Basil should have been the portrait of misery. But Sunny could always make him feel better with a smile.
With Sunny by his side, Basil could endure the worst of his tumultuous feelings.
Even after our fight, I still feel this way towards you, Sunny.
I'm such a joke, aren't I?
Sunny suddenly winced. He brought his hand up to his bandaged right eye, fingers shaking with pain.
Only now did Basil remember what had happened that night.
The garden shears in his hands represented his last resort. Unable to cope with the death of his grandma and with Sunny moving away, he felt like he was being swallowed by Something, and only those shears could drive it away.
It wouldn't hurt, not even a little bit compared to the storm inside his head—fear and doubt and anxiety gnawing away at his being until he was nothing but a dismantled mess. Those shears were his weapon. They'd tear through those biting thoughts, those fanged feelings that threatened to swallow him whole. He would finally destroy that monstrous shadow filled with eyes and mouths.
But when Sunny came into his room, he saw that one-eyed shadow floating behind him, tormenting his best friend. He aimed his last resort at that Something instead. To save Sunny.
These bruises on my arms, the pain I feel when I touch my face...
We had a fight that night.
Basil's breath caught in his throat.
He'd stuck those shears inside Sunny's right eye.
"Sunny, your eye—"
"Don't worry about it, Basil. It doesn't hurt that bad," Sunny responded.
"But I took away your eye..."
The reality of what he'd done sank in. Its effect was immediate and brutal. He wanted to scream.
I maimed my best friend's eye.
Why hadn't he realized it sooner?
Since the moment he'd woken up inside this hospital, Sunny had only been looking at him with his left eye—
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—
Sunny was still there.
Sunny was not going to go away.
It's...
It's really you this time, isn't it?
As Sunny gripped Basil's hand without any sign of letting go, the painful anxiety that had been burning inside him gradually began to cool down. The rapid beating of his heart calmed, going just a little faster than normal now. His agony sank into quiet, tentative relief.
Somewhere, deep inside the most treasured parts of his memory, he unearthed an emotion quite like what he was feeling right now.
A long time ago, Basil remembered a boy who sat at his side, quietly listening as he unloaded all his problems and fears onto him.
The boy was a really good listener. He didn't interrupt to offer any advice. He didn't voice a cookie cutter sentence of half-hearted empathy. He just calmly listened with his full attention, fully taking in all of the words he heard from Basil without any hint of judgment.
That kind of quiet listening was special.
Basil hadn't understood why at that time he valued Sunny listening to his problems so much. After all, he could always rant to his grandma or to his parents on the phone. They often offered him good advice, sometimes even shared their sympathies to let him know that his feelings were valid.
But the way Sunny listened was different altogether.
He'd never pieced it together at any moment across those four years that Sunny had disappeared from his life, those times when he felt deep in his heart that something was missing, something so valuable to him that he'd never feel the same way again if he couldn't get it back.
In the present moment, with Sunny holding his hand as tears flowed from his eyes, as he lay all bruised and battered on the hospital bed, he started to understand.
The boy that had listened to him was special in a way that no other person could ever be.
That boy, with his simple, neat-cut hair, his inexpensive and nothing-special clothes, the quiet expression on his face—
This boy offered him kindness.
Basil had never met someone like him before, someone who was so willing to listen to everything he said without making him feel like he could lose him because of something bad that he said.
This boy became my best friend.
When others listened to Basil rant, even if they were sympathetic to his problems, their words always suggested that his feelings were ultimately the outcome of his own failures—his failure to change the world to meet his desires, or his failure to reconcile his expectations with what reality threw at him.
This boy showed me that, in just one person's eyes, I was fully welcome to share the deepest, most fragile parts of who I am.
By listening in that quiet way, this boy accepted him and accepted all his feelings.
As Basil lifted a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes, those internal flames that had moments ago been burning all his nerves were washed away by cool, gentle waves of relief.
Relief that this boy was Sunny.
Had those flames continued to eat away at his being for any longer, that fanged shadow maw covered with eyes might have even come back.
Sunny knew how I'd feel when I opened my eyes and saw what I'd done to his right eye.
A new wave of tears threatened to break from Basil's eyes.
He stayed at my side to comfort me even when all my other friends left.
These new tears flowed freely, and Basil did not feel hurt by them.
He held my hand until I could understand that he was truly here for me.
Basil managed to smile through all his tears.
Sunny was here, and Sunny wasn't going to go away.
I have to apologize to him.
"Sunny, I'm so sorry for what I did to your eye," Basil said, his voice choked so badly he struggled to make out his own words. "I'm so sorry for being such a bad friend."
"You're my best friend," Sunny reassured.
Hearing those words, Basil broke down completely inside.
He tried to maintain his composure as hot tears flowed out all over again, letting in all the pain and guilt caused by everything that he'd done. Hanging up Mari's corpse, being such a huge burden to Sunny during his last three days in Faraway Town when Sunny should've passed the whole time smiling and laughing with all his friends, trying to kill Sunny on that very last night—
It was all too much to bear. Holding on to Sunny's hand was the only thing that kept him tethered.
And then it was all too much again, when Sunny pulled him forward with their clasped hands and embraced him.
"Basil, it's okay," Sunny said. "I'm not mad at you or anything."
Basil managed to keep himself from crying out loud, although Sunny could definitely tell just by looking at the expression on his face how much he wanted to.
"S—Sunny, I'm so sorry."
Sunny pat him gently on his back.
It was so comforting to feel Sunny's arms wrapped around him, to feel Sunny patting him.
Though more sorry's and more words begging for forgiveness hung on the edge of Basil's lips, Basil just quietly cried until he'd let out all his tears.
I don't want to part from this embrace with you.
Basil didn't want his words to become any more of a burden on Sunny.
Sunny had already given him too much by waiting here by his side, holding his hand, telling him he wasn't mad at him, embracing him.
Basil couldn't understand why he deserved such kindness from Sunny. The words he wanted to say—
"I'm so sorry for hurting you when you were supposed to be happy on your last day here."
"I'm sorry for doing such a horrible thing to you and your sister."
"I'm such a monster for trying to preserve our happiness in that terrible way."
"Sunny, please tell me that you won't leave me again."
Those words wouldn't make things any better between them.
So he could only cry.
"Basil, I'm sorry too," Sunny spoke. "You protected me even though I ruined all your photos. You were bullied for years while I did nothing to help you. I'm sorry."
There were tears in Sunny's voice.
"I'm so sorry for not keeping my promise to you, Basil."
Basil didn't have it in his heart to feel any anger at Sunny for doing those things.
Just a few nights ago, he'd tried to kill Sunny and ended up maiming his eye for life, so if anything, any anger in his heart had already been expressed—
—expressed too far.
"Sunny, I'm not mad at you," Basil said softly. "You had it really hard the past four years. I wanted to be there for you, but, I guess I'm not always going to be the person you need the most in your life—"
"You were," Sunny spoke, hugging him tighter.
Basil's eyes grew wide with surprise.
"I could've been there for you, and we could've gone through everything together," Sunny said. "Instead I holed myself up in my room because I couldn't face my fears."
Sunny pulled back to look Basil in the eyes. "I couldn't face you."
"Sunny, it's alright."
"It's not. I feel really bad about the way I treated you, Basil. You were my best friend and I abandoned you."
I almost killed you, Sunny...
A trail of water flowed down Sunny's cheeks, falling onto Basil's blue hospital robe and darkening it.
Basil didn't know what to say.
I feel that what I did to your eye was worse.
He just let Sunny rest against his shoulder, holding Sunny tight with his arms with the reassurance that he wasn't going to let go.
And I don't want to say that everything evened out in the end.
It felt so unusual to be the one offering the shoulder for someone else to cry on.
Basil was used to being the one unloading all his problems and painful feelings onto Sunny, not the other way around. But now that Sunny had shown his tears to him, he almost felt a sense of relief, a sense that all the pain and trauma that they'd gone through was mutual after all.
Sunny was finally sharing his innermost feelings to Basil.
"I forgive you," Basil spoke, letting those words out as soon as they came to him.
"I forgive you too, Basil. Let's be happy living together, okay?"
A small sliver of happiness grew in Basil's heart, hearing those words.
Throughout all the tears, all the sadness, he'd almost forgotten about Sunny telling him that his mom intended to pick him up to take him to their new home, where he'd be living together with Sunny for a while.
Basil didn't understand why his parents would ask Sunny's mom to do that out of the blue, but he had a feeling it was because of grandma.
Just as quickly as his tears had dried up, they came back all over again with a renewed sadness.
Grandma...
***
She was the first person to give him a home.
Basil's earliest memories were of a house somewhere far away, caretakers shuffled constantly in and out. His parents worked busy, demanding jobs and were unable to spend time to take care of him. They hired lots of caretakers but also let go of them for reasons that he never got to hear.
As a child, when his arms reached out, they grasped nothing.
He wanted someone to hold on to—his mother, his father, anybody— but no one ever stayed around long enough for him to realize that he could latch on to them for support if he ever felt afraid or lonely.
Then one day his parents sent him away to live with his aging grandmother in Faraway Town.
She felt like a strange figure at first. Strong-willed and full of action, she encouraged him to learn to take care of all the plants that she kept inside her home. He would always remember her words on how important it was to water the flowers just right.
"Don't water the flowers too much, or they'll drown in their soil."
"Don't forget to water the flowers, or they'll wilt and die."
Those words, repeated by his grandma every day and solidified in his daily routine, taught Basil that if he ever felt sad or down, he could always do something to ensure the preservation of another life, even if they were just the lives of flowers.
His grandma wasn't the most affectionate or comforting person—she struggled to express her feelings, and she always favored action over talking—but she was there for him for longer than anybody else, and her words stuck with him.
Because of his grandma, he learned how to make himself useful instead of being a burden. He learned that as long as he watered the flowers, he made each day of his life worth living through.
Her way of living became the thing he grasped on to when he reached out his arms.
If there's someone or something that needs my help in order to live, I'll always help them.
Then school began.
Basil was always a bit shy and nervous around people he didn't know. He struggled to make friends at school. During recess, he hung out by himself in a corner while all the other kids played together.
His teachers noticed this and encouraged him to approach the other kids to ask them if he could join in their games. Basil reluctantly decided to try it out.
At first, things were okay. The other kids accepted him into their group and let him play games like hide-and-seek, tag, tetherball, and other playground stuff.
One day, he found a pretty pink flower growing in the field. It had been uprooted and couldn't survive any longer. He felt a little sad for the poor thing, so he placed the flower in his hair as a way of preserving its memory.
He went back to the playground and approached the other kids.
"What's that in your hair?" a boy asked.
"A daisy," Basil replied. "I found it in the field."
"Why're you wearing that?"
"I think it looks pretty!" Basil said with a glowing smile.
The boy turned to the other kids in the group. In a mocking tone, he sang, "Basil likes flowers! Basil likes flowers!"
Basil didn't understand what was wrong with that.
The other kids all turned towards him and started mocking him, calling him a girlie boy, a sissy, and a bunch of other words he didn't recognize yet.
He felt his face burning with embarrassment as everyone started laughing at him.
But he shrugged it off—lots of other kids got laughed at and got called names during recess. It was probably just a routine every kid had to go through at some point. He always wanted to look on the bright side, and, well, everyone was happy right now! He couldn't ask for anything else.
Later, after school, a bunch of boys approached him.
Basil smiled, recognizing the boy who'd sang "Basil likes flowers!" among them. He usually went straight home after school to go and water the flowers, but deep down, he'd always wanted to have someone to talk to before going home.
"Hey, flower boy," that boy said, approaching with the rest of his group.
"Hello," Basil said, smiling. "I was just about to go home, but if you wanna talk—"
They shoved him to the ground.
Before Basil could defend himself, they pulled the flower out of his hair and started stomping on it. Horrified, Basil tried to protect the flower, but every time he got back up, they shoved him back down, laughing the whole time.
When those boys finally left, Basil picked up the remains of the flower. It was ripped to pieces.
His heart hurt, and he didn't understand why.
Even so, he put the tattered petals back into his hair. It was a beautiful flower and he didn't want it to just...disappear forever.
Once he arrived back home, he told his grandma what had happened.
He barely remembered what she said to him afterwards, because he broke down crying in the middle of telling everything.
But he did remember that she gave him a hug, the first time she'd ever hugged him. Then she gently took the broken flower out of his hair.
Together, the two of them created a memorial for the flower, burying it in the garden behind their house. His heart felt a little less pained knowing that the flower would now rest alongside all the other flowers they grew.
However, the next day, he discovered that his nickname, Basil the flower boy, had stuck.
"Go away!"
"No one wants to play with a sissy like you!"
"Basil the flower boy! Basil the flower boy!"
He went back to spending recess by himself, alone in a corner.
Those same boys from yesterday came again after school. They asked him where his flower was.
A frightening feeling grew inside his heart.
If I tell them, they might come to my garden to dig up the flower and destroy it all over again!
Basil tried to run away, but the boys surrounded him.
He didn't even have a moment to defend himself before they shoved him to the ground.
They laughed and jeered at him each time he tried to get back on his feet, shoving him down over and over again. It was so painful.
Basil screamed for help.
All of a sudden, he heard a familiar voice.
"Get away from him, you assholes!"
His grandma ran up to those boys and immediately threw them off of him. She pushed one of them so hard that he fell down headfirst and got knocked out.
The other boys, fear scrawled across their faces, ran away.
"Fucking assholes," she said. "They don't even have the dignity to stay awake during a fight."
Basil stared at the boy lying on the ground. The boy lay completely still.
"He's breathing," grandma said after examining him.
Something didn't feel right. The boy was breathing, but why didn't he open his eyes? Why didn't he get back up?
Grandma pulled Basil to his feet. "That should teach those boys not to mess with you. Now, let's get out of here before someone sees us."
"What about that boy? Is he going to be okay?" Basil asked.
"Oh, he'll be okay. But, in case he isn't, there are some things you can do if you ever find yourself in a situation where somebody just won't wake up..."
Luckily, the boy was okay. He was out of school for two months due to a "concussion from an accident."
It seemed none of those boys wanted to report that they'd been beaten in a fight by an old woman. Grandma never got into trouble for what she did.
Basil didn't hang out with those kids anymore, and they didn't bother him either. He went on taking care of flowers, every once in a while finding ones to wear in his hair as a way of preserving their memory when they could no longer go on living. When the flower eventually wilted, he buried it in the garden behind his home.
***
"Sunny, I'm so glad you stayed here for me."
The loss of his grandma a few days ago had come as such a shock to Basil. He didn't know how to handle losing her at all.
"You've been through so much the past few days," Sunny said with a gentle smile. "Of course I'll stay for you."
That smile made Basil's heart flutter.
Whenever I see Sunny's smile, I can forget any grief and pain for just that moment.
There were two people in his life he'd always treasure close to his heart: Sunny, and his grandma.
His grandma was the first person he'd latched on to. The one who raised him.
She was someone who always took action to help others, someone who taught him the value of taking care of things more delicate than himself.
Her being there for Basil meant so much to him. She was a warm fire who melted the cold solitude inside Basil's mind after growing up alongside so many gone-away caretakers. But only his mind.
His heart, Sunny—
Sunny was the star at the center of everything.
Sunny was a boy who accepted the flower Basil had offered him, unlike all the other boys, and he even wore that flower in his hair as he lay in the grass with all his friends just so he could look more like Basil.
Sunny was the boy who listened attentively to him reading his favorite books as they sat together under the tent late at night.
Sunny was the one who showed him genuine kindness by totally accepting him for who he was, even when he revealed all his frivolous problems and inner fears.
Sunny was his best friend who held his hand, who made a promise that they would face everything together, and who—
—Who kept his promise at the end by coming back for him.
Sunny, you stayed for me even when all our friends left.
You smiled when I opened my eyes.
You held my hand as I cried,
and you embraced me with words of forgiveness even after everything I did.
Basil threw his arms in a hug around Sunny, and Sunny hugged him back again.
Holding Sunny close, he could feel Sunny's calm, reassuring heartbeat.
"Sunny, will I really be living together with you from now on?"
"Yeah. I don't know for how long, but my mom pretty much confirmed it. She already moved all your plants from your house over to our new place."
I know I shouldn't say this...
Living with you has always been my dream.
"Oh," Basil replied plainly, hiding his feelings. "Umm, I h—hope you're okay with me living with you."
"Yeah, I'm fine with you coming along."
"I promise I won't be a burden on you or anything like that!"
"Don't worry, Basil. You're still my best friend."
Those words comforted Basil, could almost make him cry all over again, but with tears of joy this time.
He noticed that a tiny glimmer of light had returned to Sunny's eyes, a light that had been lost since the day that his sister died.
A glowing star.
"You're the closest person in my life now, Sunny," Basil spoke quietly.
Sunny smiled, a faint red blush coming over his cheeks.
Sunny, why are you blushing?
Basil couldn't understand all the feelings going through his heart when he saw that blush. His emotions were still a storm inside him—a blinding storm, but as long as Sunny was smiling by his side, that was okay. The storm would be gentle.
His heart felt so warm.