Chapter Text
DAY THREE
Friday, December 4th
The carnival happens once a year, a celebration that was less than luxurious, since the traveling fair operators were on a tight budget. Nonetheless, it was a time everyone was excited about. They’d giggle, make plans on where to eat and dare each other to enter the rides that looked like they were on the verge of collapse with a concerning number of bolts missing.
The carnival would last from day to night and disappear only to return next year.
Amo awaited him at the entrance, her hair tied into braids, likely Riyo's doing. She looked around and waved excitedly once she spotted him.
And here he currently was, trying to win Amo a plushie from those scam machines.
“That white cat looks cute, Amo wants that one!” she said, pointing at the Siamese cat plushie through the glass. “Alright, alright, I’ll try.”
Rudo inserted a coin and realized he didn’t know how this fucking machine worked.
He moved his hand between the two buttons with no colour differentiation?! Surely this button was the one you used to move the grapple?
He settled for the button on his right and watched the grapple come down to grab absolutely nothing. A stifled laugh came from his side, quiet snorts leaving her as she dug her hand deeper into her face.
“Don’t- “
“Pfft- Sorry, sorry!”
Amo tucked at his sleeve, urging him to make room. She tucked another coin in and explained how the claw machine worked. Turns out there was a difference between the buttons; maybe Rudo should get his eyes checked.
“Okay, now try again, Rudo, you can do it!”
He stood before the claw machine again, eyeing the plushie with squinted eyes, the grapple came down, gripped the plushie, and watched it fall into the prize chute. Rudo pumped a fist into the air with a loud ‘Yes!’ and grabbed the plushie, turning to Amo who stared at him with stars in her eyes. It made Rudo’s face glow red, and he quickly passed the plushie to her.
“Here,” he offered.
“Thank you, but honestly Amo thinks you should keep it!”
Rudo looked at the plushie again, it had large red button eyes and a bow tied neatly onto its ear. He gave it a careful squeeze.
“I got it for you, though?”
“Hehe, Amo only wanted it because it looked like Rudo. Even the eyes are like yours!”
At that Rudo only felt his face grow hotter, “It does NOT look like me,” he exclaimed with a high-pitched squeak.
They walked side-by-side, hands close but not quite touching. The sky darkened and auburn lights began lighting up one by one, autumn leaves covered the merry-go-round filled with children, they giggled and rustled each other’s hair playfully. Rudo watched how they tugged at one another, not with hatred; but with an affection that made Rudo’s heart ache.
The pair wandered further, allowing the festival lights to guide them through the carnival, Amo’s eyes locked onto the Wack-a-mole machine tucked within the entrance of a tent. A toothy grin spread across her face, and she rushed forward; catching Rudo off-guard.
The tent had a peculiar smell, and the clowns blowing animal balloons in the corners didn’t help Rudo settle down.
She gripped the toy hammer in her hand, sliding a coin in and locked in the moment the machine burst with light. Before Rudo could barely comprehend her movements as she smacked the moles with violent intent. He watched the poor moles get smacked down before they could even get out of the holes. Amo let out mutters of insults, releasing her violent onslaught until the game ended.
‘NEW HIGH SCORE: 84 HITS’
Rudo’s jaw dropped, how the hell did she hit 84 moles in under a minute? For a girl who looked so bubbly, she had the attack speed of a cobra.
“Now Rudo should go!” she turned to him, handing him the toy hammer.
Rudo fixed his gloves and took the toy hammer from her. “I doubt I’ll be able to beat you at this…Mind giving me a tip?”
Amo hummed while in thought, tapping a finger against her chin, before snapping her finger and tapped Rudo’s temple. “In here, Amo likes to think of bad stuff. It makes Amo angry, and then this thing called adrenaline does the rest. At least that’s what the purple guy in chemistry says.”
Another low hum escaped her, “What was his name again? Jab- Jabby? Jababy? Jabastian?”
She stared off into the distance, trying to remember said guy’s name. The rhythmic taps continued and her finger felt warm tapping against Rudo’s skin, and he felt the embarrassment sink into his stomach like an anchor.
“Y-you mean Jabber?”
Amo’s eyes lit up, and Rudo sighed internally once she stopped the tapping and nodded. “Mhm! Him! Yeah, Amo noticed he’s smart about that stuff.”
Once more, she stepped aside and allowed Rudo to play.
Think of something that made him angry; that was easy enough. He closed his eyes and Regto appeared.
Of course, that memory made him angry. The sound of the front door breaking, cops entering with rifles, and red and blue lights penetrating through the windows.
The machine turned back on, and Rudo began his slaughter with brutal hits from above. Those dirty moles deserved to get hit. The machine shook, and Rudo felt a smirk appear after hearing the automated voice beam ‘HIT’ and ‘NICE SHOT!’ repeatedly.
He was going to beat the fuck out of those people moles the moment he found them, and he was going to enjoy watching them fall.
Before he could allow a laugh to escape, the game ended. His score displayed on the screen. ‘NEW HIGH SCORE: 89!’
Amo clapped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Great work, Rudo!” He could only huff puffs of air in response. His heart thumping against his ribcage. After a few moments, it slowed.
Tickets rolled out of the machine; he grabbed them and tucked them into his pocket. Maybe he could buy a prize if he saved enough.
"The fireworks should be starting in about 30 minutes, let's get some sweets!"
Rudo's attention was captured, following behind her like a lost dog. The carnival was gigantic, crowds of people passed them by, a few glares, others whispering. A spark of unease creeped into Rudo's mind.
The eyes followed them, Amo seemed unaware, and Rudo felt their judgement impale him from all directions. Their faces far enough to be silhouettes, close enough to hear.
For one action, one moment, one day in thousands, for only one, he’s judged.
"You don't know anything!" a young boy yelled, slamming his fists against the cop's arm. Who only kicked him away, grabbing him by the scruff. "Your pa's a criminal, and he'll be rotting away in hell. He had it coming."
"He didn't do it !Rudo sobbed hysterically and rushed forward, but they pulled him up once more, his legs flailing in the air. Another kick to the stomach sent him flying backward. He screamed and clutched his stomach, which now had purple bruises blossoming on his abdomen.
The cop behind the door sighed; a loud click of his pen. "Now, when was your dad at this time-"
"H-he was home! He'd never leave me alone at home, because he didn't kill them!"
Their living room reeked of a metallic smell, splatters of blood dirtying the furniture. A body being covered by plastic, unrecognizable beyond a blur of colours seen through to material.
"Gonna turn up dead like his father, that boy." The cop whispered to the other before grabbing Rudo up by his elbow. He dragged him to the car and pushed him inside. Rudo put a hand up against the glass.
"No, no, no, no! You gotta help him! I don't want to leave him!"
His cries remained unheard as the car drove away; he watched their home growing distant until it wasn’t there anymore.
…
It’s so unfair.
An arm interlocking with his snapped him out of the memory, a grimace on Amo’s face as she pointed at the space between two tents. They slid over to the area, away from the eyes, and Rudo gasped for air. Away from being perceived. he felt himself relax and his breathing returned to normal. Amo watched carefully before smiling.
“Better?”
“Better,” he responded. Amo took a step closer and pulled the mask over his face. “The fireworks are starting soon,” she said, going behind him to tighten the mask. “Amo likes to watch them from up the hill, not far from here.” A neatly tied knot pressed against the back of his head.
The mask obscures his vision a bit. There were only slits to see through, and he saw Amo put her mask on too.
A thought flew into Rudo’s mind; she noticed. She saw his weakness and didn’t say anything. Instead, she dragged him away without a comment. Amo wasn’t stupid; she knew the rumours surrounding Rudo and his father.
So when she intertwined their fingers and dragged him through the autumn lights and eyes; he didn’t resist or question it.
Rudo just held onto this moment with these cursed hands.
Fireworks exploded in the sky, the smell of caramel apples from the stalls and cotton candy filled his nostrils, and through the crowd his gaze settled on Amo. She turned back while running, and they chuckled even when almost crashing into a stall, and for a moment Rudo felt like he was in a dream. The haze of visitors only made him want to look ahead more, and despite her face being turned ahead, he could tell she was smiling.
After shuffling through the crowd, Amo led him to a path outside the carnival, leading up to the hill hidden away behind a line of trees. Heavy pants escaped them, and Rudo sunk to the ground, hitting the ground with a thud.
“Did we have to run this far ahead?” he asked, earning him an immediate nod from Amo. “Of course, just look up!”
Rudo removed his mask and lifted his head up and saw an explosion of colours: red, blue, green, pink, all of those colours reminded him of the people in his life. A few fireworks even formed words in the sky. He recognized a few of them; predominantly Remlin’s and even Dear Santa had a firework dedicated to him, which made his cheeks hurt from smiling.
That thought made him conscious of his smile, so he dropped it.
Amo, on the other hand was swaying her head side-to-side, mask forgotten by her side. Her face was unreadable, and despite softened eyes, her teeth clattered together. Is she cold or something?
“Hey-“
“You’re the first person Amo ever went to the carnival with.” She confessed, eyes glued to the surge of colours before them. “It makes her sad that this only happens once a year.”
Rudo turned tore his eyes away from the fireworks and looked at her. The night wasn’t even over and she was already expressing nostalgia for a moment that was yet to be over.
He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Something Regto would say would probably be ‘Live in the moment.’ But those words didn’t feel right to Rudo, even now. Whenever he heard those words all he could do was roll his eyes.
His focus shifted to their hands, barely touching but present. An urge spiked through him to reach out to them, he lifted his hand, hovering over hers, but…
“Promise her you’ll be her friend, only until Friday!”
How am I supposed to live in the moment if I won’t live to revisit it, anyway? Aren’t those memories what shape you and your future? That’s what Rudo thinks, at least.
He quickly snatched his hand back, and guilt scorched his throat. Their promise rung out in his head, and when the fireworks stopped after midnight, all they were left with was a starless sky.
.
.
.
On the way home, a sense of numbness filled Rudo’s heart. He moved on auto-pilot, returning to his safe space.
In his dimly lit room, Rudo stared at a piece of paper. Ink and pen next to him, waiting to be used. He didn’t even remember when he collected them from his usual trash-scavenges. A relief washed over him when he found them, though. He didn’t feel like scavenging after the long day at the carnival.
“Hey Amo…No, too casual.” He put the paper away and grabbed a new one. Maybe ‘greetings? No—no, who was he kidding? That sounds like something people said during medieval times.
‘Dear…’Yeah that worked.
.
.
.
When people die, it's customary to place flowers on the desk of those who have passed. Most people leave white flowers in hopes that the person will be reborn, a fresh start, a blank slate with no reminder of their past life.
However, if you place a flower on the desk of someone who is still alive, it means you would like that person to die. It's a common way to ostracize someone here, a grim way of saying ‘You don't belong.’
Today, Amo received a litter of flowers, including chrysanthemums, lilies, and camellias, on her desk.
Rudo saw it happen from outside the classroom, multiple others peering in through the window. Amo stood motionless at her desk; she wore no expression, which is weird since Rudo doesn't even know what no expression looks like. Yet it was the only way to describe the look on her face.
Blank.
Nothing, no quirk of a brow, no lip biting, not even a twitch of the eye.
She pushed the flowers aside, watching them fall on the ground, and she sat down with her head hung low.
The people who stared from outside the classroom left with reeking disappointment.
"What a buzzkill..." the person next to Rudo muttered before returning to their classroom. Rudo stood for a few more moments before doing the same. A part of him wanted to run in there and beat up whoever placed those flowers. The date of today kept him frozen solid.
I don't have to be her friend anymore.
The promise was 3 days, it was nothing, a temporary relationship that was held together by what? Mutual suffering? A sense of connection?
What was it that held him back from pretending he never met her? She wasn't this big addition that gave living more value. Amo to him was...
"Hey kid," Enjin called out, tapping him on his shoulder. "Class has been cancelled, I've got a meeting to get to; no homework either, so enjoy the weekend, yeah?"
Rudo nodded and Enjin sprinted along by phone to his ear, and another person muttering something about 'the responsibility of being an example for students'. Rudo watched him leave and made his way to the lockers, where he pulled out his jacket containing his wallet. Down the street, near the town's church, there was a flower shop he visited regularly. Mostly to buy flowers for Regto's grave.
He made his way to the stalls, grabbing his bike before heading to the shop.
"After this gift, we'll go our own separate ways." He muttered, setting his bike down and hearing the bell chime above him. Eisha stood behind the counter, greeting him with a shy smile and turning to grab the usual flowers. "Uh, no, today I want something different." He motioned with shaking hands.
"Oh, sorry! What would you like?"
"Something friendly, like a gift."
"Something friendly..." she muttered, searching in the back. "Uhm, I think yellow and orange colours would be best." Rudo said, yellow was friendly, right?
Eisha returned with a neat bouquet filled with an orange-yellow cereal of flowers. A striped bow, like the one Amo wore, tied them neatly. "Would these suffice?" Eisha asked, "They're from the newest batch so they're still fresh and, uh ...your expression..."
"What about it?" he crossed his arms in defense.
"I don't want to assume, but you seem like you really care for this person. It's just the look in your eyes,"
Rudo’s deadpan stare made her shy away in embarrassment.
"Uh, forget I said anything..." Eisha muttered before heading back to the cash register. Rudo paid, said his 'Thanks', and the bell chimed again when he left. The bouquet fit neatly in his basket, and he checked the time again. She should be getting out of class soon enough. Speaking of class, this should be her last class of the day. He knew since she had shared his schedule during their first day of friendship.
Noting that in the back of his mind he returned to school in silence, watching the road to avoid bumps that could send the bouquet flying off. His rusty bike wasn’t the fastest either, so it took him awhile to return to the stall.
Putting that aside, he grabbed the letter he wrote from his locker, the fox and cat sticker staring him right in the face as if mocking him. It was cliché, sure, but he was never a guy who was good with words. Amo’s locker was opposite his, so he slid it under with ease.
Heading towards her classroom, he didn’t find her. Weird, did she leave early?
“Excuse me? Where’s Amo?” he asked Gris, who was sweeping down the hallway. The janitor shook his head and shrugged, “I assumed she left already.”
Rudo searched every classroom, asking each passerby about Amo’s whereabouts. Up, down, hallway, bathroom, nowhere. The club doors flung open in a frenzy; he poked his head in and out, and nothing.
A rush of anxiety coursed through him as he ran up the stairwell, knocking shoulders with a few classmates who scoffed at him. Where is she?
His hand made contact with the doorknob. The rooftop was only open during break time, so when the door opened without issue, he felt chills all over his body.
Why was the door to the rooftop unlocked?
The wind knocked the door open further, and standing outside the railings was Amo, facing away from him. Her braids were messy, and she wore the same yellow cardigan a day before. Rudo couldn’t help but call out her name in panic.
“Amo!”
She turned to him with her eyes widened. And then she hid her face from him. Rudo took a few steps, and Amo put her feet over the edge, a clear sign for ‘Don’t’.
“Please stay back..” her voice cracked. Through the wind her voice was near intangible, Rudo raised his hands in surrender. “We can talk about this, okay?”
“Don’t come closer!” she yelled, and he immediately halted. Her fingers pressed against her scalp in irritation. A few strands of hair ripped out, her face contorted in pain. “Amo doesn’t want to be interrupted by anyone! Not by Mister, not by friends, not by anyone…” She trembled violently, scratching at her neck until it was raw and bloody.
Amo paused and craned her neck back to look at him. “Rudo understands Amo, right?”
Hums of wind caressed Rudo’s ear, and he was at a loss. “Of course, I get it,” he said, eyes distant; he was up here just three days ago. Standing right where Amo is right now. Anger was all he felt- still feels.
“You want to make your own decisions, right?”
Amo nodded, “Yes, that’s why Rudo should just leave.”
Her fists clenched and unclenched in a rhythmic tic. Nails dug, replacing pain with pain; it was the only way for her to stay present. To not feel.
“Then why did you become friends with me?” he asked, "If you were just going to up and die, anyway?" That seemed to stun her into silence, so he answered the question for her. "You didn't want to die alone, is that it?"
A slight nod was all Rudo needed to confirm it. Her eyes were glossy when their gazes met again. "Today,” she paused, allowing a breath to climb through her dried throat. “ Is Amo's birthday, but nobody remembered." Her voice shook, "Amo thought the flowers were gifts for a moment, but they weren't."
Those words made the bouquet in Rudo's hand more apparent.
“Mister said Amo has been bad, so Amo didn’t get a gift. Mister never gives Amo the gifts she wants, only the gifts he wants.”
"That bastard didn't know what he was doing, and for what it matters,” he took a few more steps and stretched his arm, showing the bouquet, “I got you something.”
Amo glanced back, fully turning her body. Her mouth was agape when she saw them.
A breeze went through the flowers, and Amo climbed over the railing, getting closer, step by step until she was a safe distance away from it. Slowly but surely Rudo moved too, stopping before her. Amo’s attention glued to the bouquet. She gently grasped them and watched, mesmerized, how the breeze made the petals flutter, like running through a field in the summer.
"Amo doesn't know what to do." She whispered, "Me neither, but why don't we just try it, okay?"
He raised his finger again, their first meeting flashing through his mind once he did. Amo showed visible conflict; she shook her head slowly. "What if-"
"Doesn't matter." Rudo retorted, "Just do what you want, but please— just go away and don't do it in front of me. I can't..."
She laughed pitifully at him. “Guess today is not just Amo’s day,”
Rudo paused, fixing his gaze on the ground beneath. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he didn’t bother wiping them away.
"It's your choice, Amo. It always has been. You want to celebrate your birthday next year?” He continued, “We can, and then the next, and however long we can last."
A pause, then a slight stutter,
“If you want to.”
"Is it really okay?" she asked. The clawing at her neck stopped.
"Y-yeah."
Their fingers interlocked again; it wasn't perfect, but if they could hang on even by the most fragile thread, it was enough. Rudo tugged her away from the rooftop back to the stairwell. The fluorescent lights flickered, as did the uncertainty in Rudo's mind; he couldn't help but ask himself if this was enough.
Once they were outside the school and the city lights turned on, covering them in neon. The breeze carried them through the night, hand-in-hand, filled with unspoken words.
This is enough.
For now.
.
.
‘Dear, Amo
I want to let you know that I’m not the best with words. You might or might not have noticed that already. Point is, I wanted to write you this letter to express how much fun I had with you these past three days. At first, I was confused why you even wanted to be friends with a kid like me. But in a way, I owe you for saving me that day we met. I can’t say I don’t bear resentment towards you sometimes. Truthfully, I’ve been wanting to die for a long time. I think about it a lot. But now I’m unsure.
I can’t say that I regret wanting to die. Saying that would be a lie, but…These past three days reminded me that even if living is hard, I don’t want to die yet either. That day at the carnival was fun. I had fun with you, especially.
If you don’t mind, I wanted this to be a ‘friendship’ letter to you.
This is getting embarrassing, so I’ll get to the point.
Is it okay if we stay friends for a bit longer?
Not forever, not some ‘till death do us part’ thing, I just don’t want either of us to disappear yet. Because I do enjoy being your friend. And I want to go to the carnival again with you.
I want us to stick together, even if it’s selfish.
Hope you’re up for it,
From, Rudo’