The afternoon light stretched long across the pavement as *** walked home.
He was eleven.
The sky was slowly fading from bright blue to the pale gold that came before sunset. The neighborhood streets were quiet now, most kids already inside their houses, backpacks thrown somewhere near the door, parents asking about homework or dinner.
*** walked alone.
His backpack bounced lightly against his back with every step.
His hands were buried deep inside the sleeves of his hoodie.
His head stayed lowered.
Every few seconds the same memory replayed inside his mind.
The courtyard.
The fight.
The blood on Chri's lip.
And the moment he had shouted Cristian's name.
His stomach tightened again.
He kept walking.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
At first he thought it was just another student going the same direction.
But the footsteps stayed.
Steady.
Closer.
"Hey."
*** stopped.
His body stiffened slightly.
He didn't turn immediately.
Then slowly, he looked back.
Chri stood behind him.
His brown hair was still messy.
The thick glasses sat slightly crooked on his face.
And the faint red mark near his lip had darkened into a small bruise.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
The wind passed between them quietly.
Finally Chri scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"…So."
*** waited.
Chri shifted his weight.
"I was thinking about earlier."
*** said nothing.
Chri looked at the ground for a second.
Then he spoke again.
"…I was kind of a dick."
The honesty in the sentence sounded clumsy but real.
*** blinked.
Chri sighed.
"I mean you were being weird."
He looked up again.
"But I didn't have to be an asshole about it."
The apology hung there.
Suspended between them.
*** slowly looked away.
"I deserved it."
Chri frowned.
"What?"
***'s voice was quiet.
Without emotion.
"Without Giacomo I'm just…"
He hesitated.
"…a leftover."
Chri's expression changed slightly.
"I'm strange."
*** continued.
"Something that doesn't belong anywhere."
He kicked a small stone on the pavement.
"There's no meaning in me."
The words sounded too natural.
Too practiced.
Like something he had repeated to himself a hundred times already.
Chri stared at him.
Then suddenly he said:
"…Cri."
*** looked up slightly.
Chri pushed his glasses up his nose.
"That's your name now."
*** blinked.
"What?"
Chri shrugged casually.
"Cri."
He repeated it again.
"It fits better."
*** didn't argue.
The name floated in the quiet air between them.
Chri leaned lightly against a nearby fence.
"You know something?"
*** didn't answer.
"My parents talk to me like that sometimes."
*** slowly looked at him.
Chri shrugged.
"Like I'm annoying."
He kicked a rock across the sidewalk.
"Like I mess things up."
His tone wasn't sad.
Just honest.
"But that doesn't mean they don't care."
He glanced sideways at Cri.
"People just suck at explaining things."
The wind moved softly through the street.
Chri continued.
"Everyone has a place in their life."
He paused.
Then added quietly:
"Even you."
The words hit Cri harder than the punch earlier.
His face twisted slightly.
His eyes burned.
And suddenly tears started falling.
Chri froze.
"…Oh."
Cri tried wiping his face quickly, embarrassed.
But the tears kept coming.
His voice cracked.
"I just…"
He swallowed.
"I need a human touch."
The words were small.
Fragile.
Chri turned his head slightly.
Not in disgust.
More like confusion.
"…You."
He looked back at Cri carefully.
"What's actually wrong with you?"
Cri didn't answer.
Instead he slowly raised his hand.
It trembled slightly as he extended it toward Chri.
A simple gesture.
Painfully simple.
"Do you want to…"
His voice almost disappeared.
"…become friends?"
For a moment Chri stared at the hand.
Then suddenly he laughed.
Not cruelly.
Just surprised.
"You're such a weird guy."
Cri lowered his eyes.
But then—
Chri grabbed his hand firmly.
"Yeah."
He shook it once.
"Alright."
The handshake lasted only a second.
But something real started there.
Something that neither of them fully understood yet.
Years Later
Middle school.
A classroom full of restless teenagers.
The teacher was explaining something about chemical reactions with the energy of someone who knew nobody was actually listening.
Cri sat near the back of the classroom.
Chri sat beside him.
Which already meant trouble.
Chri leaned toward him slightly.
"Watch this."
Cri immediately shook his head.
"No."
Chri ignored him.
He raised his hand.
The teacher sighed.
"Yes, Chri?"
Chri stood up dramatically.
"I have a very serious academic question."
Cri already had his face buried in his arms trying not to laugh.
The teacher adjusted his glasses.
"Go ahead."
Chri looked extremely serious.
"If plants do photosynthesis…"
He paused dramatically.
"…then technically are they the real producers in society?"
The classroom exploded in laughter.
The teacher stared at him with dead eyes.
"Sit down."
Chri sat immediately.
Cri was shaking from trying to stay quiet.
"You're so stupid."
Chri grinned.
"You love it."
Cri looked at him.
Their shoulders touched slightly as they sat.
It was normal now.
They spent most of their time like that.
Talking.
Laughing.
Annoying teachers.
Sometimes just sitting quietly.
Chri leaned closer again.
Too close.
"You're terrible at pretending to be normal."
Cri turned his head slightly.
Their faces were only a few inches apart.
Chri's blue eyes looked amused behind the thick lenses.
Cri felt something strange twist inside his chest.
Not uncomfortable.
Just noticeable.
Something he didn't fully understand yet.
He quickly looked away.
"You started it."
Chri smirked.
"You'd be bored without me."
Cri didn't answer.
But he knew it was true.
Sunset
The football field behind the school was empty.
The sun was sinking slowly behind the buildings, painting the sky orange and pink.
Cri and Chri sat on the grass.
Shoes off.
Backpacks thrown somewhere behind them.
They had been talking for almost an hour.
About nothing important.
Memes.
Teachers.
Random stupid ideas.
The kind of conversations that only made sense between close friends.
Chri leaned back on his hands, looking at the sky.
"You know something?"
Cri glanced at him.
"What."
Chri hesitated for a moment.
Then he spoke more quietly.
"If you weren't around…"
He stared at the horizon.
"…I'd probably be really lonely."
The honesty in the sentence felt heavier than the words themselves.
Cri didn't answer immediately.
Instead he watched Chri.
The glasses.
The messy brown hair.
The relaxed smile he always had when they were together.
Then Cri looked down at the grass.
His fingers played with a small piece of dirt.
"…Yeah."
He said softly.
Then he added something unexpected.
"I think…"
He paused.
"…I'd disappear."
Chri looked at him.
Confused.
Cri kept looking at the ground.
"If you weren't here."
The sentence landed quietly.
But it meant everything.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Chri suddenly punched his shoulder lightly.
"Don't say weird stuff like that."
Cri smiled slightly.
"Too late."
Chri laughed.
Then he suddenly grabbed Cri's arm and pulled him into a loose headlock.
"You're stuck with me anyway."
Cri struggled slightly.
"Let go idiot."
"No."
They wrestled for a few seconds before falling back onto the grass laughing.
The sky above them darkened slowly.
And for the first time in a long time…
Cri didn't feel alone.