The Year Of Rain

Autumn

He watched the sunset, the rusted colors of the autumn leaves shining underneath the last rays of light for that day, ruby turned gold as the wind passed through the tree branches, taking a few of the petals with it, making them dance through the ether, only to let them fall gently onto the clear surface lake nearby, faint ripples traveling through the water only to disappear soon after.

The young boy was staring at the scenery, listening to the birds' songs accompanied by the spirits passing by and playing their instruments in tune with the sweet melody coursing through the air. This was a usual night, nothing too special for those who had been living there for so long, but for him, who had come to that charming town, the beautiful Kyoto where his mentor lived, barely two weeks ago, this experience was still new, and he didn't know if he could ever get used to it. It was all too...surreal, too out of this world. He closed his eyes, letting the music fill his ears and take him away, back to his home, back to the fields he used to love and walk all day long. In his mind, the colors were more vibrant, the planes filled with flowers, clouding his vision as his fingers were brushing against the soft petals and tickling tips of the tall grass, the scent of hay filling his nostrils.

"Are you alright?"

The image was lost, the spell broken, as the static voice pulled him back to reality. He looked at Lafghar, another thing that he never thinks he'd be able to get used to it. The white face with the most basic of features, the insect like body made out of strange metal with the joints resembling bones same as the long and slim fingers and toes, an alien robot that few knew where it came from. The creature looked at him, head attached to the neck by three long, purple formations, displaying no emotion, only an eerie stillness that the boy still had trouble getting used to.

"I'm fine, Lafghar." James answer, turning his gaze from the robot to the rusty scenery outside, trying to hide his nervousness.

The alien didn't move, continuing to stare at the 12 year old child. Mizusaki told them that it might be like that for a long while, but Lafghar was used to it. Having spend so many years on Earth, they got used to others being nervous around them. It sort of became the norm, in all honesty.

"Do you miss home?" Lafghar asked.

James didn't answer, trying his best not to break down in tears. Yes. He missed Transylvania, he missed his mother, missed his father, his brothers and sisters. But he promised to come here, and he didn't want to back down. Olaf told him all the time, those who chose to walk the path of the supernatural lead solitary existences, for not many are willing and able to bear the responsibility that such a life entail. Some, just like James, become strangers to their families, filling the goal with friends and all the wonders that beautiful, horrific and yet so tempting world had to offer. Other were blessed with sisters and brothers, parents and grandparents that had been living this way for generations. Hekima-sensei was one of the later, his family having looked after Lafghar since the robot made their way to the surface from the darkness of the caverns below where the ruins of the civilization that created it lied, hidden from the dwellers of the surface world. It would be a lie to say that James wasn't jealous of him. Oh! How he wished his family would have been more open towards his inclinations, unholy as they were. It wasn't like the boy was denying the Lord's existence or dominion over all beings. But he just wanted to know more, to satisfy that whisper in the back of his mind that always demanded to find out what hid in the shadows, watching, observing. Why couldn't they understand?

"Do you miss your home, Lafghar?" the child asked, trying to distract himself from the yearning inside.

The robot didn't answer right away. Looking instead at the garden of their friend, the trees and bushes that they too had a hand in raising. Their gaze traveled to a part of the garden where a bunch of maple trees were growing, a bouquet of orange, purple, red and yellow shining through. Lafghar knew each and every one when it was planted, recalling every detail, the data of the days stocked safely in their internal memory and backed up in chips kept under lock and key in their room.