Smile (Complete)

I don't need you

"That's who Sun scares you with, right? Type, they won't come to you, stop being afraid of them."

The rain is still beating on the windows, and the guys with bare feet are sitting on a made-up Type's bed, where there is a pillow with funny pandas at the head. And Tharn would smile, - it turns out to be not that difficult, - but Type is still trembling in his hands. The boy's head is pressed against his chest, as if he is afraid to look into Tharn's eyes.

"I knew they were forcing you... don't give in to them, Type," Tharn pats him on the back, "if they bother you, tell me. I'll talk to them."

Type seems to nod uncertainly, still trembling. Tharn shakes his head and starts looking for something to cover the boy with.

"Type, let's get you under the blanket," Kirigun tries to pull away, but Type only clings closer to him, pressing his face into his chest. "Mhm... okay. At least let me take off the blanket, and I cover you?"

Type shakes his head, with hands clutching at Tharn's T-shirt. The latter can't help but smile again. Sadly and with annoyance at the injustice.

Just a kid… Well, how can they mock such a thing at him?.. How can they use his credulity and the fact that once his childish consciousness, due to the strongest psychological trauma, displaced the images of those bastards who created inhuman evil with him and replaced them with wolf-like monsters with huge bloody fangs, dirty shaggy fur and iron claws that tore the flesh, soul and heart of the child. He draws them, on the last pages, and not only. Tharn looks carefully around the room again and only now notices that between the wonderful landscapes and magical castles there are the same monsters with fangs. They are everywhere, - Tharn suspects that he did not notice them the first time, because he looked only with his eyes, and they do not always see the main thing. Maybe Type is trying to overcome his childhood fear? That's why you still believe people, even people like Sun... you think that people are not capable of such evil. Only monsters. Therefore, you blindly follow the "monsters" on two legs, naively believing that this way they will be able to protect you from monsters from childhood… Type! Why so painful...

Tharn is suffocating from such injustice. Tharn can't understand why no one during these six years has bothered to ask what makes a child fall under these real, not imaginary, monsters.

"Type," Tharn himself moves so that Type still looks at him, "let's do this: I'll take these fanged creatures off the walls now, and you promise me that you will never, under any circumstances, fall for the persuasions of Sun and his company. And you won't go anywhere else with them. Believe me: they don't protect you… From those... monsters," Tharn is not sure that it is worth convincing Type now that "people" did it, probably, a professional psychologist is still needed here. Suddenly, I'll start proving it to him and only make it worse.

"And if they," Type nods at the walls, "come to take me again?"

"No, Type, they won't come. Sun is deceiving you so that you can trust him. You can't let him do that, Type. Not to him, not to anyone else. You don't have to go with them… And do all this."

Type silently bites his lips. Type is afraid. It is clear.

"Please promise me, Type. Promise me you won't even get close to them again!"

"I'll try," Type whispers.

But Tharn needs to hear something else:

"Promise me, Type."

Type puts his hands on his shoulders, and Type presses his cheek against the boy's chest again:

"I promise, Tharn."