Leaves, Seasons, and Dead Trees (BxB)

PROLOGUE.

"Manchmal wünsch ich mir einfach nur, du wärst verdammt nochmal tot, Axel!"

"Und du denkst etwa, ich will nicht genau dasselbe, Fira?! Du denkst, ich will noch länger mit dir leben?"

Samuel sits in silence, lingering in the front yard, unable to comprehend the details of his parents' argument in the living room. But as a twelve-year-old, he understands what "destructive behavior" is, and shivers won't stop running down his spine as the bickering inside goes on. At first, the heated exchange, punctuated by unfamiliar and deafening words, reaches a plateau. But then, the piercing sound of breaking glass ruptures the fragile balance, catapulting Samuel's heart into a frenzied rhythm.

"Shit!"

Casting a worried glance over his shoulder, Samuel's eyes lock onto the sight of his mother sprawling on the porch, something red on her temple. "Mom?!" Fear tinges his voice as he cautiously closes the distance between them, his gaze fixated on the mysterious black object weakly clutched in her paw. It takes a moment for his mind to process what he's seeing, and when realization dawns, his heart plummets like a stone.

It is a gun.

"..." His mother's words escape her lips, but they reach Samuel's ears as little more than a muffled whisper lost in the chaos of the moment.

"Run..." she mutters one more time, more desperate.

Before Samuel can fully register her words, his father's voice erupts from inside the house. "HAST DU WIRKLICH VERSUCHT, MICH VERDAMMT NOCHMAL ZU ERSCHIEßEN?!"

"Run..." his mother whispers once more, her body trembling as she struggles to lift herself from the jagged remnants of glass strewn across the porch. Samuel rushes forward, instinctively reaching out to assist her, but his mother's face contorts with frustration, pushing him away in a moment of angst.

"Dammit, Samuel, run!" His mother's urgent voice pierces through the chaos, leaving a bewildered Samuel no choice but to obey. Without thinking, he bolts out of the house.

Quelling impending tears, Samuel races past the neighbor's house. He thinks about calling for their help but finds himself not stopping there. He runs again, and two blocks blur by. His footsteps continue to carry him past a local deli store after the fourth block. And then, as if guided by an unseen force, he finds himself at the neighborhood park.

Seeking solace, Samuel seeks refuge beneath the comforting shade of a towering juniper tree, collapsing against its sturdy trunk to catch his breath. The stillness of the park envelops him, offering a momentary respite from the turmoil he has left behind.

After catching his breath, Samuel instinctively reaches into his pants pocket, retrieving a crumpled aluminum wrapper from a chocolate he had eaten weeks ago, a small token he considers his lucky charm. He begins rubbing the wrapper between his paws, savoring its satisfying crunch.

Unbeknownst to Samuel, the peculiar sound catches the attention of a curious tiger nearby. Suddenly, the tiger presents himself in front of Samuel, letting out a raspy "Gotcha!" that causes Samuel to jerk in his seat.

The tiger explodes into laughter, leaving Samuel irritated, his brows knitting.

"What's your problem?" Samuel hisses, refusing to even spare a glance at the tiger, who now wears an apologetic frown.

"Geez, sorry for trying to lighten the mood," the tiger apologizes.

Then, the Birman glares at him. "If scaring me to death is your idea of lightening the mood, I wonder how many lives you've killed."

Despite Samuel's bitterness, the tiger's chuckle persists, stoking Samuel's annoyance further. "Actually, you're the first one I've scared to death."

Samuel quirks a wry smile. "Well, perhaps, but minus the death."

A genuine concern etches across the tiger's face. "Whoa, why would you say that?" Drawing closer, the tiger approaches Samuel, who finds himself surprised that he no longer minds the tiger's presence. However, Samuel can't help but inquire, "What are you doing?" when the tiger, with his peculiar goody-two-shoes demeanor, casually slings his arm around Samuel.

"Leaving my scent on you." The tiger retracts his arm from Samuel's neck moments later. However, Samuel's belief that this would be the end of the tiger's antics shatters when the tiger abruptly extends his paw right before Samuel's face. "The name's Tyson. What's yours?"

Initially torn about accepting the handshake, given his lingering annoyance, Samuel's hesitation melts away as he realizes he has stopped rubbing the aluminum wrapper on his paw. With a bashful smile, he finally accepts the exchange. "Samuel."

"Nice to meet you, Sam." The tiger's smile broadens, and it invites Samuel to broaden his smile as well.

"...Nice to meet you too."

Silence ensues awhile.

"So, spill it. What's the deal with that thing?" Tyson points his claw at the aluminum wrapper resting on Samuel's thigh.

Samuel lets out a dejected sigh, his miserable gaze at the wrapper unbroken. Tyson's unwavering demand for an answer leaves him with little choice. "It's... It's stupid," Samuel mumbles.

"Just tell me, Sam. I promise not to judge," Tyson reassures.

Samuel swallows hard, his gaze fixated on the aluminum wrapper that seems to burn against his skin. Yet, as he steals a quick glance at Tyson's yellow eyes, a comforting wave washes over him. And, somehow, at that moment, Samuel finds solace. In the end, Samuel opens up.

"It's... It's my... lucky... my lucky charm..."

"Oh, nice! I've got something similar," the tiger quickly chimes in as he retrieves a piece of candy from his pocket. "Only that mine's edible. Want it?" His generous offer leaves Samuel's heart aflutter. Samuel finds himself touched and on the verge of accepting until a sudden lump forms in his throat.

What the hell's happening? Who even is this tiger? Why the sudden kindness? Why am I even here? Why is he even here?

Noticing the troubled expression on Samuel's face, Tyson's brows furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Without wasting a moment, Samuel shoots back with an accusatory question, "Why the hell are you doing this to me?"

Caught off guard by the sharp inquiry, Tyson lowers his arm. "What... do you mean?"

Samuel scoffs. "Don't play stupid! You know exactly what I mean!"

Contrary to Samuel's expectations, Tyson chuckles, unfazed by the challenge. "Ha! You're funny. Really, it's simply because..." Tyson yanks Samuel's arm, aligns it with his chest, and then places the candy in Samuel's paw, "...you seem like you might need a piece of candy."

Satisfied with his kind gesture, Tyson's smile broadens as he crosses his arms over his chest, observing Samuel with keen interest. Samuel's eyes are locked on the piece of candy, his gaze unfaltering. And, somehow, a tear escapes and trickles down his cheek. Tyson's heart skips a beat at the sight, suddenly worried that he may have inadvertently caused that. "D-Did I, uh... Did I make you cry? Are you crying?"

Samuel nods in response, struggling to contain his blossoming smile that mingles with a hint of sorrow. However, the ambiguous nature of Samuel's reaction doesn't compose Tyson in the slightest. Tyson then mutters a curse under his breath. "Shit! Sam, I'm, um... I'm sorry, I-I swear I didn't mean to-"

But before Tyson can finish his sentence, Samuel pulls Tyson into an unexpectedly tight embrace, leaving Tyson momentarily breathless. With silent tears still streaming down his cheeks, Samuel leans in closer, his lips almost grazing Tyson's perked ear. Then, he utters the gentlest of whispers.

"Thank you, Tyson."

Hearing those words, Tyson's smile curves, and he embraces the cat in return.

"You're welcome, pal."

Beneath the tranquil spring evening sky and the sheltering canopy of a blossoming Juniper tree in Willowhaze Park at 514 Oakwood Avenue, Midmoines, Springfield, Missouri 65808, the Birman cat and the tiger share a tender embrace, their eyes closing slowly as they seep into each other.[]