To Nowhere -1-

1

As the scenery becomes a blur of turquoise blue and shimmering reflections, Emil opens his eyes and begins to adjust to the darkness. He recalls telling his friend that he wanted to take a nap before reaching their destination—wherever that might be—and closing the blinds so he could get some rest. Now, the train has arrived at the second island, being that he and Leon chose to skip the first stop.

It is essentially a spontaneous trip made on a spontaneous decision. The doctors told Emil that his condition was well enough that he could be dispatched for the hospital—temporarily. Come two weeks from now—even less if his condition worsens—Emil will have to return to the linen white sheets, bland food, and never-ending checkups. For now, though, he tries to push that all away and focus on what is in front of him. His brother was kind enough to pay for a train ticket, and Leon’s relative, in turn, paid for his. Their families were hesitant about letting them go alone, but it was Leon who had convinced them Emil would be fine under his care.

This part of their relationship bothers Emil. He knows Leon does not have to go through with this. It is a rash decision, an impulsive one that they are making. Train tickets are expensive enough as they come, but to go on a trip without any destination in mind makes him concerned. He feels as though they are wasting time, precious time that can be spent on better things. Leon, on the other hand, does not think this way.

Thinking of Leon, Emil rubs his eyes of the haziness until his vision is clear. The cabin is empty save for himself, and the room is absent of his friend’s familiar scent of oriental medicine and top-quality cologne. Knowing Leon’s nature, Emil suspects he has gone out to the dining cart to retrieve some snacks. Another thing Emil remembers: he is able to eat food that is not cooked in a tray. The realization of this makes his stomach growl at the thought of being able to eat something that is not cold applesauce or broccoli so overcooked it is rubbery beyond edible.

Suddenly, Emil finds himself hungry. He begins to imagine what sort of foods he might eat when they get off on their stop: grilled fish, fresh fruit, glazed meats, rich licorice…

Emil swallows. He pushes the anticipation of food to the back of his head in fear that it will only make his hunger worse. He does not know where he and Leon will get off, and until then, they will have to stave their hunger. The food on the train is expensive, and Emil will rather eat on a surface that is not moving at high speeds. He digresses. He longs for a decent meal, as he did not have the time to enjoy himself back at home. His last meal was at Leon’s house where his foster father had cooked him a grand meal fit for an emperor, as he had put it. Back then, Leon warned him not to eat too much as it would make him drowsy during the trip. Emil recalls being unable to restrain himself. The smells overtook him, and Leon’s father worked so hard to please his guest. It was the least he could do to enjoy his meal. Leon was right, though. The food made him drowsy, and it was not long before Emil fell asleep to the steady rhythm of the train gliding along its magnetic tracks with Leon’s music faintly heard through his headphones.

Now, Emil is alert and fully recharged. He is impatient, bored, even. He wishes to get off the train so he and Leon can start their real trip. The islands are full of activities to do, things he has never dreamt of doing and things he is still wary of. Leon promised they would at least go snorkeling. The water will be calm, and they will be able to see hundreds of schools after schools of fish during this season. Emil looks forward to that, though he cannot remember the last time he went swimming. To this thought, he looks at himself and feels slightly embarrassed that he has been bedridden for so long. Weeks of being unable to go outside have left him paler than ever. Leon made a joke about that saying perhaps Emil had already died and came back as a ghost. It was a cruel joke, one that left Emil’s older brother seething with such negative energy that he had to excuse himself from the room in order to prevent himself from lashing out. Leon has since apologized.

Finally, at long last, the cabin door swings open and a panting Leon comes fumbling inside. Emil thinks his friend does not look as “cool” as he normally appears. Not only that, but when he returns, he does not have a cartful of snacks as he had expected. It is a shame. Emil thinks he can use a bag of licorice right about now. If the snack cart had any, he knows Leon would have gotten some for him.

“Emil…” Leon breathes as he catches his breath.

To this, Emil does not even let his friend finish as he, instead, cuts him off with a direct question.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“Conductor’s,” Leon replies. “I was asking him about the different stops and what kinds of things we might be able to do. The next island has a bunch of snorkeling places we can try out. What’dya say? Do you wanna, like, stop there?”

Emil twists his lips into a frown. It is a habit of his to mask his conflicted feelings from projecting outwards. While he wishes his friend had done some planning ahead of time, in truth, he is glad that Leon suggests getting off at the next stop. He is hungry, and he looks forward to seeing the fish together.

“Sure, that sounds fine,” he says and returns his gaze on the moving scenery below.

Leon smiles. “Cool. So, do you remember how to swim?”

“I think,” Emil indirectly responds. To be honest, he does not remember how to swim at all. His brother was always by his side in the case there was danger. Thinking about it, he has always been protected and sheltered by those he considered dear and precious to him. He thinks it is selfish of him; he wonders if people choose to protect him because he finds them important or if they are important because they choose to protect him. Emil does not know the answer to that. It troubles him.

“I think you’re lying,” Leon says, obliterating Emil’s unconfident answer. “You’ve been sick for a long time. You’re weak.” Emil flinches at the last word. “If your legs lock up, you can drown. What am I supposed to say to Lukas if that happens, huh?”

“I…” Emil hesitates. The last thing he wishes upon his friend is for Leon to get on his brother’s “bad side.” There will be no end to his torment and suffering if something happens to Emil on this trip, and Leon knows it.

“You’re right, Leon,” he lightly chuckles. “I don’t remember.”

Leon sighs. “So we’re good, then? We’re really getting off at the next stop?”

“Sure.”

With that, Leon lets out another sigh—this one almost sounding like relief—and sits on the seat opposite of his friend. Once he makes himself comfortable, he pulls out a small bag with black, gold and white stripes printed on the packaging. Emil’s mouth waters; he recognizes those colors and the size of that bag anywhere.

“No way,” he gapes. “They have licorice?”

“Yeah, can you believe it?” Leon laughs. “It wasn’t cheap, though. Everything on that cart wasn’t cheap. I think it was, like, seven heta* just for a bag of chocolates.”

“That’s a lot,” Emil mumbles. “So how much was this?”

Instead of replying with an answer right away, Leon leans forward and gives Emil a sly smile, one side of his lips tugged in a slightly more upward curve than the other in a half-attempted smirk.

“Wanna take a guess?” Leon asks.

Emil is used to this expression and this type of question since his friend often wears it when he feels like teasing him. Though Emil wishes Leon will finally grow out of his habit, he decides to play along because he is unsure of when they might spend time like this again.

“Four heta?” he guesses.

“Multiply that by two,” Leon says holding up two fingers.

“Eight?” Emil winces. “Eight heta? Since when is licorice more expensive than chocolate?”

“Since some jerks on the pricing committee decided to be bigger jerks.”

Looking at the outrageously priced bag of licorice, Emil finds himself guilty that his friend thought of his favorite snack enough that he would even buy it from the snack cart. With eight heta, he can buy at least four bags of licorice at the local convenient store back home. A single bag of licorice is not worth their friendship, and neither is the price of eight heta. The gesture, Emil decides, is selfless but unnecessary. Once again, he feels that because Leon bought him this licorice, he is under the protection of those he holds dear. To them, he feels that he is always someone who needs to be cared for and doted on—spoiled if he must be. However, Emil is no longer a child. Well beyond that, in fact. He is seventeen, an age he thinks is appropriate for making decisions on his own.

“You didn’t have to buy this for me,” he mumbles, his eyes still on the licorice. Despite saying that, his mouth is salivating at a shameful rate, his stomach digesting nothingness as it awaits the first helping of the rich, bitter candy. His mental protests are ignored since these physiological actions are completely involuntary. No amount of willpower can prevent him from desiring this treat.

Much to his annoyance, Leon does not think strongly of the gesture nor does he realize his own friend is expressing guilt. “Too late, I already bought it,” he says. “But now you owe me.”

Immediately, Emil’s face falls into a frown. So this is his little game. Leon is always one step ahead of him in these kinds of situations, and he hates it. He has lost count of the occasions he was duped, tricked, conned, and humiliated because of Leon’s way of thinking. It is never that what he does is harmful to him in any way, rather, it makes him realize he is still naïve and unprepared for the world. In other words, Emil truly is nothing short of being a child at the age of seventeen. What irritates him most of all is that Emil is even older than Leon by a mere two weeks. The time difference is short, but the fact that he is the older of the two remains the same.

“I’m not going to return it,” Leon smirks. “I can’t, anyway. The idiot didn’t even give me a receipt.”

“Is that so?” Emil responds, his frown still glued to his face. At last, he sighs and mentally admits defeat. Leon has tricked him yet again into something he cannot avoid. At this point, it is easier to go with the flow. “So what do I owe you?”

“A promise.”

Emil looks up. Normally, Leon requests tangible compensations such as an ice cream bar and a magazine or an outdated video game from the dusty old record store. This, however, is different and unfamiliar to him.

“What kind of promise?” he asks. In his head, he thinks that it cannot benefit him in the slightest. Such is the nature of his friend.

Leon smiles. It is a mysterious smile, one that Emil cannot fully comprehend. This is different than the usual Leon. Something is off, yet not in such a way that it makes him uneasy.

“I want you to promise me that no matter what, you’ll tell me if something’s wrong,” he says.

Emil blinks, his delicate eyelashes fluttering like little white butterfly wings. “That can’t be all.”

“Emil, “I’m serious here,” Leon says, his amber eyes unwavering. “Promise me that you’ll tell me. I need to know. If you’re hurt, if you’re bored, upset, angry, I need to know—not just for your sake, but for everyone else’s.”

At a loss for words, Emil swallows, his throat unusually dry despite salivating moments beforehand. Regardless of the situation, his friend’s eyes always stun him: they captivate him with their narrow slits and slight angle; they never back down or look away, and at times, Emil finds comfort in seeing them. Unlike his smile, Leon’s eyes look no different than any other time.

“Promise me, Emil,” Leon repeats. He sounds desperate. He is staring into Emil’s eyes at a proximity so close, Emil can see his own reflection in his golden irises. It is times like these that Emil is reminded of how much Leon truly cares for him, not as someone who relies on him, but as a friend. Realizing this, Emil’s breath accelerates. Against his own weak exterior, he blinks back the hot moisture that will form droplets at the corner of his eyes and forces a smile.

“You’re very stupid, you know that?” he forcefully laughs. He is sure Leon knows he is putting on his humored façade. “You’re making me promise you something so big for something as small as a bag of licorice.”

“An eight-heta bag of licorice,” Leon specifies.

“An eight-heta bag of licorice,” Emil repeats, nodding. “Fine. I promise. Are you happy?”

Leon smiles again, this time, he is genuine. Again, for a fleeting moment, Emil thinks he detects something along the lines of relief. He wonders if this is because his condition is not fully recovered to the point where they could enjoy themselves to no bounds. Their vacation is restricted. Two weeks. Two weeks is all they will have to treasure this time together. Then, Emil will be back in the hospital again. This just might be it. They gave him just this time to go outside—it was good for his spirits, he recalled them saying. The doctors did not specify whether or not Emil would ever fully recover. No one dared to bring it up whenever Emil would ask, but today, sitting in a cabin on the island train, Emil is happy. He does not think of the future and what might become of him. Today, he decides, he will think of the present, of what is in front of him at this very moment, and in front of him is Leon. Today, he is all he needs to think of to carry him through. As long as he is there, he feels he is able to conquer anything. His coughing subsides long enough for him to think this way with exuberance; in fact, it is as if it was never there. Collectively knowing these things, without a doubt, Emil knows he is happy.

“I’m happy,” Leon says.

“Good.”