One-Shots [Boboiboy]

Next Year

"Let's say you died one day."

Taufan looked up, only to see a busy pavement, occupied with strangers that went about their lives.

"Where would you go?"

The question rose in his mind, yet the memory of the asker's face, the sound of their voice remained hidden. He felt as if he'd fallen into an endless sea, with only silence overpowering the thoughts in his mind.

Oh, he thought, quickly bringing himself back to reality. His body weighed tons, held down by invisible weights. Everywhere was noise, yet there appeared to be a dome around him, nullifying the sound that reached his ears.

Why am I here?

Everything, everyone was sped up, yet he was living at the same time with them. However, his eyes were like an immortal's, looking through times that would no longer matter.

Taufan was glued to the ground. All he did was stood under a wilting tree, casting swift glances at every passerby's face, but he never found what he was looking for. Or rather, he didn't know what he was searching for; so he would look for his purpose on his own.

No one paid attention to him. Families passed by, parents holding their child's hands as they giggled in glee. Groups of teenagers walked past him, laughing amongst each other as they talked about the newest trends and gossip.

Still, he remained there, even as the sky went dark. The sun had retreated, and the moon rose to take its place.

Taufan looked up, craning his head upwards.

Through the cracks of the browning leaves and branches, moonlight draped onto his shoulders and head, shattered to a million pieces. The streets had long emptied, the warm lights of the shops barely illuminating the concrete grounds.

For some reason, all he felt was hollowness.

A set of rasp footsteps whipped his attention back to the front. The streets were no longer empty. Instead, there was a man standing a few feet away from him.

Unlike the others, he stared straight at Taufan. His expression was grim, yet torn between hesitance and lingering sadness.

And unlike the others, Taufan's eyes brightened when he saw him.

I know who he is.

"Hello!" Taufan beamed brightly, waving his hand. "I know you, right?"

The man said nothing, only shaking his head.

"It's been years," he said quietly. "Why are you still here?"

Taufan tilted his head in confusion. "Why am I here?" he asked, almost to himself. "I don't know. Do you know?"

"My name is Halilintar." The man stepped closer. His red eyes were dark, but they stood out in the darkness. "Do you remember me?"

"Halilintar," Taufan repeated, as if they were magic words. His eyes widened. "Oh, yes! I think I remember."

The man, now known as Halilintar, hung his head low. His uncut hair hung over his eyes, but Taufan could tell that he wasn't willing to meet Taufan's eyes.

"Hey, Taufan?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why-"

The sheath of metal flashed through the air. Halilintar moved at a speed that Taufan couldn't react to, and the next thing he knew, Halilintar's head was resting on his shoulder, weighing on him as if he was hurting, crumpling to his knees.

Yet his arms were in front of him, hands wrapping around the knife's handle.

Taufan's bright grin dampened to a dry smile. "Oh."

Halilintar's body trembled, choking as if he were crippling to tears.

"I-" Halilintar choked. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm sorry I have to do this to you every year."

Taufan, despite his original shock, managed to calm his senses.

He put a comforting hand on Halilintar's back, rubbing soothing circles. "It's alright," he promised. "I won't hate you for this. I'll wait for you next year. I promise."

Halilintar nodded, burying his face into his shoulder as tears streamed down his face, falling to the floor in crystallized drops.

When he looked up, there was no one.

Only the knife remained.

Halilintar dried his tears, and turned from the tree.

He could still remember the day he killed Taufan.