Young Writers Society

“Yes,” James said, nodding, still rubbing his eyes. He sniffed again. “I don’t remember what you got out of that conversation, besides my name.” He paused, and corrected himself. “And my fake names.”

"The only other thing I remember is that it ended with Ari charging out of there holding you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes," Brett said, snorting.

James finally accomplished drying his eyes in time to huff at that.

"Ari made me felt like a kid again," James scoffed. "The ease by which he just - lifted me off the ground and started running. And I kicked him too. He just kept going."

"I was yelling at him to stop!" Brett said, laughing. "Nothing. He was determined as an ox to save your life."

He was glad to see that James had stopped crying—for the time being, at least.

"So... back to your family," Brett continued, a little tentatively. "I know you haven't seen them in a long time, but what do you remember about them?"

James sniffed again, and flicked his gaze back to Brett just for a second. He wanted to trust that Brett was asking because he cared. He wanted to believe the best about him - but the creeping suspicions were sneaking back in the back of his mind. He felt a wall, slowly, drawing up between them.

"They were kind," he said. "Before the attack, things were peaceful. My parents were very affectionate and spent lots of time teaching me how to read, and how to work the farm. When my little sister was born, everyone adored her." He paused. "Myself included."

He stared down at the food, still mostly untouched.

"I was closest with my father. I followed him everywhere. I... wanted to be just like him someday."

Brett didn't know what to say to that at first, so he just took a deep, slow breath and sadly shook his head.

"I'm so sorry you lost him."

He looked down at the dirt, feeling a pang of guilt when he thought about the strained relationship between himself and his own living father.

"I'm sure he's proud of you," he insisted, glancing back at James. "Bounty hunters might just see you as a wanted man, but... I see you as the good person you are. He probably does too."

James let his head hang low and closed his eyes. He hugged himself, with his arms across his chest.

"I don’t know if he'd be proud of me," he said quietly. James wasn't proud that he left his family when they needed him. He wasn't proud that he failed to actually change things in the Moonlight Kingdom. He wasn't proud that his life had dissolved into aimless wandering, and simply a struggle for survival.

"But I appreciate it."

Brett had said all the words of comfort he could, so there was just one thing left. He scooted over and wrapped his arms around James' shoulders in a side hug.

"This is from Ari, too," he said softly.

James tensed, but at Brett's words he leaned into the hug - just a little.

He didn't want to say it out loud, but he really did miss Brett, Ari, Rose, Adina, and Kaia. Everyone, even the clumsy cat Ursuku. He closed his eyes and let himself be hugged, but couldn't find the strength to hug back. Moving his arms up and embracing would hurt, and he felt that Brett wouldn't be offended if he didn't reciprocate. So he just... received.

"Thank you," he sniffed.

After giving James one last squeeze, Brett pulled away from the hug but left a lingering hand on his friend's shoulder. He'd never seen him so broken before. Never seen him so open, either.

"It's no problem," he said. "I'm really glad you could get all that off your chest."

He nodded slowly. He didn't know if he agreed. He was glad to share it, but at the same time, it hurt to say it all out loud. But he did feel a little lighter. And he guessed that was worth it.

"Thank you... for listening," he said. It was probably the first time, in a very long time - maybe ever - that he could recall having a friend he actually trusted with whom he could share any of that with. It felt so strange. It was so freeing, and yet, wildly terrifying.

And it hurt, knowing that he was going to be saying goodbye again. But at least someone out there in the world of Nye would know him a little more, and maybe if he did die, the memory of him that lived on in his friends would go on just a little longer.

That seemed nice.

He looked up at the sun, which was getting lower in the sky. Brett had come around noonday, and quite some time had passed as they'd been talking on the cliff-side. A cool breeze brushed up from below, drying what remained of the tears on James's cheeks.

"You should probably get back, huh."

Brett, looking at the sky too, was surprised to see how much time had passed.

He nodded reluctantly and stood up. "Yeah... They might be worrying about me. I'll go get Ciera. You'll still be here when we come back?"

James looked up at Brett, ignoring the voice in his head that said he should leave, and hurry, and run. He nodded slowly.

"Yes. Now go."

He hoped Brett's family didn't notice he was gone - but more importantly, he hoped the guard didn't find out.