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Breathing – one of the most basic human functions, a necessity for sustaining life.
A world stripped of sunlight, with trash falling from the sky regularly; this is the Ground where Rudo had been thrown to. In such an environment, even the simple act of breathing can become a perilous endeavor.
The concept is simple: the body absorbs toxins, leading to its inevitable demise. Those diagnosed with it have to face a grim reality. The lungs are its primary target, rendering them increasingly inflamed and compromised. Eventually, the damage extends beyond the respiratory system, creating a cascading effect throughout the body. Each organ strains under the burden; the kidneys struggle to filter toxins, the liver becomes overwhelmed, the heart works in overtime, and the brain can suffer from insufficient oxygen supply.
Although some may manage to control their symptoms temporarily, depending on the stage of the illness and the individual’s limits, if left untreated the disease destroys the body progressively.
“What?” Follo learned the shocking news through a phone call, Semiu being the one to relay the information.
Death by pollution disease.
The symptoms weren’t obvious in at first, not to his family, not to his friends. When the first discolored patch appeared on the left side of his rib cage, he did not utter a word. Instead of seeking help, he grappled waves of nausea and overwhelming lethargy that left him feeling drained. Struggling silently, he chose shut himself off from society.
Gradually, his stomach refused to hold in food, making it increasingly difficult for him to eat. His appetite dwindled with day by day and as a result, he started losing muscle mass, causing his condition to deteriorate rapidly. It became clear that something serious was unfolding beneath the surface.
Unfortunately, his parents were unable to secure the treatment and their son’s life slipped away.
That was the consequence of all those times he ventured outside the safety zone, those times he defiantly ate snow in the face of his friends despite their concerned pleas.
Each bold act punished him to the point where nothing was left. No hopes, no dreams, no ambitions and nobody to fulfill them.
Alan was gone.
Rudo was confused when Follo suddenly stopped the car by the forest's edge and stepped outside. He had noticed him making his way towards the Cleaner’s garage that morning, seemingly withdrawn from the world around him. After hearing about Alan, Rudo had urged him not to leave by himself, then, hours later there they were.
Their steps were accompanied by a soft crunch of snow beneath their boots, the delicate layer of white mirroring the fragile atmosphere between them.
“You sure you don’t want to- uh, show your face there?” asked Rudo, trailing in Follo's footsteps.
“Nobody’s waiting for us.”
Driving had proven to be an exceptional distraction, up until they got closer and closer to their destination. They had left in haste and only a handful of people knew where they were headed.
It was often said that the North Ward was the only place on the Ground where snow falls regularly. In a land covered by a blinding blanket of white, where the earth was too tough to dig into, the entire population had to cremate their dead. He found out early that the famous pollution disease was common cause of death here.
From afar, the two of them observed light gray smoke rising from the incinerator’s chimney. There were no sounds, no gestures, not single a forced smile; Follo’s face remained heavy and somber. They sat in silence on a weathered log, the previous distance completely dissolved.
The younger boy stole glances at Follo, catching glimpses of the inner turmoil that shadowed his eyes.
“On second thought, you don't look so good. Maybe we should head back…” he suggested, his voice tinged with concern. Follo did not meet his eyes, offering only a small nod of approval. His lower lip trembled visibly, and he quickly raised his hands to cover his face in an attempt to hide it.
The Cleaner’s job was brutal and relentless, he had to pull his weight or he wouldn’t last long. How much he held in his heart, only he knew, he almost never spoke up. He rarely let hois emotions to surface, choosing to keep everything bottled up until it threatened to burst. Rudo had made him promise before to open up about his feelings—his frustrations, his anger, his despair, his sorrows. He wanted Follo to understand that it was okay to express them, that he was willing to face them, and most importantly that he was there for him. He wasn’t sure what the right to say was during a moment like this, but he knew he had to make an effort.
In a panic, Rudo grabbed those hands away to properly face him. A sight that knocked the air out of him and hated to see. The golden of Follo’s eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know what your relationship with Alan the human was like. What I do know is that he’s... not here anymore...”
Forcing himself to hold the gaze he continued, “I am alive though? I'm here and I'm listening. Don't try to suffer alone. You can share your pain. Talk to me.”
Follo’s entire body started shaking. “I froze in place…” His voice was laced with misery. “It didn’t cross my mind there could have been something going on with him.” his shoulders slumped under the weight of his regret. Rudo reached out, brushing his cheeks and gently wiping away the tears flowing down his face. His own heart ached as he continued to cradle Follo’s face in his gloved hands.
Alan had been Follo's guiding star since he was still alive. For years, he yearned to embody that vibrant spirit—bright, confident and resolute—and admired how his friend faced challenges head-on.
And yet...
He had been preaching he wanted to become a cleaner, yet his room was a mess.
< Go away, Follo. > had been the first words his friend uttered to him for the first time in a while. Throughout their entire discussion, or rather Alan’s monologue, he hadn't even honored his visitor with an angry look.
He had been caring for the hammer he brought back only to give up on it.
< Take that piece of junk with you. And get lost. > he said. The phrase echoed in his mind; it left him numb. All that Follo could do was follow what he had been told to. A mechanical action driven by a state of shock.
“The things he told me, the things I haven't told him... I-I uuuhh… I was upset that he was talking mean to me?? Nnnhh…” He sniffled softly, his eyes red and puffy. “A single word wouldn't come out of my mouth.”
Like a puppet on strings, he picked up the hammer and quietly left without even once looking at the back turned towards him. As soon as he stepped out of that room, Follo committed to not let himself become like that—bitter and brooding.
“I let him decide it was over. I didn’t do a damn thing!”
One let it all out, while the other took it all in.
“He must’ve been in pain; why would he not say anything?! Was he afraid of pity? Why didn’t he fight it? He gave up before trying! Why was I thinking only about myself, why didn’t I confront him?! I’m a complete waste of breath!” In a swift move, Rudo enveloped Follo in a firm embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around his waist and rested his chin onto Follo’s shoulder. Even in death, Alan wielded an undeniable power over him.
“I should have asked… I should have asked why was he pushing me away.” Rudo could feel the hitch of his breath with every wave of emotion. Each word seemed to reverberate in the stillness of the landscape. The forest surrounding them began to blur. It was a precarious place to be in, and they were fortunate no trash beast was lurking nearby.
“Maybe we could have done something, maybe we would still be friends, maybe he’d still be alive!”
The sorrow of losing someone was painfully familiar to Rudo, especially when it concerned someone he cherished. When Regto died, he was framed for murder and cast into the Pit. Though surviving it was a miracle itself, fate was not so kind to pause and grant him time to mourn.
“His choice of words back then... made me feel like a stain in his life.”
And fate was a dice thrown at random.
“You are not a stain; you are a PAINTER!” Rudo was filled with a strong need to assert his identity and worth. “And it’s that guy’s fault if he couldn’t notice!!”
Perplexed by the unexpected poetic phrase, Follo raised his face from the comforting warmth of the person in his arms and blinked. “Huh?”
“You gave me the world in your hues too, you know?” Rudo’s expression softened.
A person that cared for him, that liked even a tiny part of his real self. A person that loved him and he loved back. What he had been looking for on the Sphere he found on this vast expanse of land covered in trash.
“You met an open heart and entered without permission. You put color in my soul and treated me like I didn't know how to do it myself.” A love like a palette of colors, vibrant and intoxicating, delicate and impermanent.
He pressed a light kiss against his forehead.
Follo's sadness heightened Rudo's instinct to provide comfort, wishing to be the sole source of support in his life. A pathetic thing, to be jealous of someone who had faded from existence. It made the boy feel like he was dwindling in the presence of Alan’s lingering legacy.
“If his absence left a void in your heart, then I will fill it. I want to fill it. Until the memories of him become less painful.”
Another kiss, this time placed at the corner of his mouth.
“The past cannot be changed. Moving on... is part of the process. It doesn’t mean we will forget those who once were important to us.” Rudo’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Day by day, meal by meal. We keep living.”
Sensing a shadow of vulnerability, Follo instinctively leaned forward. Their foreheads touched gently. “It’s not like I can’t live without him,” he firmly stated, brow furrowed with concern.
“Well yea… I don’t know. It’s not that. Well, not exactly. We still argue often and it hadn’t bothered me for a long time now. I know we are better at handling our differences and we make up by the end of the day. Thought not everything is under our control and other stuff can happen and and now I am afraid we could end up like this one day. I don’t want that. And I said we keep on living, but that doesn't mean it hurts any less. Being alive and apart is one thing, losing you entirely is another totally different thing that I can’t stand thinking about."
Follo’s heart ached, caught in the pull of those words. An avalanche of words.
That didn't stop his face from slowly moving closer, eyes locked in a longing gaze. Hot puffs of air charged the atmosphere. Time seemed to stretch. Their breaths mingled, the world fading away as both of them leaned in further.
“You are a painter too, Rudo.”
Drawn to each other like magnets, they closed the distance within the same breath. The chilly atmosphere transformed as it became infused with warmth.