A Little shorter chapter! But another will come later today! Thanks for reading!

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Intermission 3:

Time Moves On

*Time waits for no one*

*-*-*-*-*

"Come on Max! Don't slack your feet like that, we'll be late!"

"Shut up! I know  already. Nobody will want to see me there anyway."

"Hahh... Such an ungrateful kid... Do as you wish once we're there, but right now we'll be late!"

It's been a week since... John's 'dissapearance'... And today, his funeral has been scheduled for. Max grumbled as he followed his dear  mother out of their house in order to enter the taxi that would drive them to their destination. His mother had become acquainted with John's mother through the students' connection with each other, and was now clad in a black unfashionable dress that covered all the way from her neck down to her feet, slightly showing the red high heels that she wore to anything considered extraordinary.

As his mother sat down in the passenger's front seat of the black vehicle, Max reluctantly followed to sit down in the seat behind her. He didn't want to attend his only true friend's funeral for... Reasons, but he could just not disobey  his motherly parent so easily. Some part of him also made him feel like he had  to attend, what kind of a friend would he have been otherwise?

Even if Max was the cause of his death.

'I should've stayed in school by his side that day... Just WHY did it have to be him?!'

Looking out of the car's window, the nineteen year old student looked up at the clear sky. Not a single cloud in sight, the sun shone as bright as ever, and bumblebees could be seen flying from flower to flower that sat along the narrow road that the taxi currently drove on. To Max, this bright weather felt like it was mocking him, suffocating  him, which was a clear difference from the stuffed air inside the car that didn't seem to have any air-conditioning in the back.

'It's as if the world doesn't even recognize the loss of John...'

The peaceful weather annoyed him. The happy bumblebees annoyed him. The driver, his mother, the funeral, the school, he despised it all.

Max despised himself.

He knew he couldn't think like this. It wasn't their fault, they had nothing to do with John's death, and Max knew that, but how does one explain that their beloved straight-A student, the pillar of light, the best friend, had died because of a promise?

Max cleared his thoughts for the rest of the trip, as the sight of trees, parks and pedestrians passed by right outside the window. And then, an hour later, his mood got worse as he saw the tranquil graveyard appear as if sliding in from the left. The car stopped, and his mother stepped out in order to open the door for her son, before paying the driver for his service.

"Come on, Max, you can't make a face like that  when attending his funeral. I don't think your friend would want to see you irritated during his last good byes. Here, smiiileee~"

Standing on the pavement, the 179cm tall doting mother of Max the giant, grabbed her son's cheeks, and tried to bend them upwards into a smile.

"He's already dead! And there's not even any body to say good bye to! Only ashes of a burned up room, and no trace of him!"

The attempt failed.

"Hahh... Fine! Have it your way... But show at least some  respect once we're there, it would be rude to the others, if nothing else."

Leaving her last words as that, she walked in advance, followed a few seconds later by a grumpy son. Alongside the road up to the graveyard stood trees as green as ever, rustling their leaves back and forth in the mild wind, which brought a fresh scent of lemon.

*-*-*-*-*

"Our sincere apologies. I'm sorry for your loss, mrs. Erissé."

"Please Maria, you're making me awkward in this already heavy mood. Our sons were friends, speak as informal as you want with me... Ah! I see you came too, Max. I'm sure John would be glad."

Max didn't say anything, and only nodded as to say hello. He tried his utmost to not let his irritated mood become visible, and decided silence would be the best answer.

Over fifty people had gathered on top of a hill looking over the silent graveyard: Some girls and boys that seemed to be students from the same university, old people, some parents, John's father and mother, his own mother.

And Max himself.

Not all the girls were clad in black dresses, but all the men, Max included, seemed to wear a black suit with a white shirt underneath, and then either black or dark blue jeans. He didn't pay attention to every kind of shoes worn, but he himself wore what he'd usually wear: his really comfortable black sneakers.

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Walking next to Maria, his mother, they made their way forth to the top of the hill. They had to stop many times to offer and recieve condolences with the others mourning. One thing kept making Max more and more irritated as he watched the sulky expressions he recieved from the others. One thing that was even worse than not being able to tell that John had died because of him.

Nobody seemed to condemn his presence.

He knew deep within that he didn't literally  kill his own friend. But as deeply burrowed in self-told remorse and hatred as he was, it would've been better if he had. At least then he would have a real reason to hate his sole existence. No... He knew that wasn't true, he would never do anything to hurt his friend, even if his words sometimes said otherwise, John was his closest -and only real- friend.

'I wish I could just dissapear from this world... I'm the worst...'

Once standing on top of the green hill, the large group surrounded a pair of adults. A man that looked exactly like John -if he had shaved a little- and a woman who Max recognized as the woman his mother had greeted earlier. John's parents. His father opened his mouth in order to speak. It was a deep melancholic voice that filled the air.

"I want to thank every one of you who have managed to take the time out of your lives to come here. My son... John,  would be happy to see that so many faces are gathered at the same place for his sake. It would be stupid of me to tell you all not to look so sad, for that is natural. John, however, was always the kind of raskal to leave a sunshine in his wake."

Tears came from John's father, and he had to stop himself for a second to wipe them off before continuing. Max felt strangely moved by the speech, as if everything he had thought, done, up until now, had been insignificant.

"...John he... His curiosity for knowledge was always something I respected. He managed well to balance his life with the things he loved around him: Books, games, people.

Stories.

He loved the stories, the ones of others, the ones he read, played, and the story he himself would create. But... His story has sadly come to an end, and that is why we are here..."

Others than just John's father and mother were crying now, including Maria. Max didn't cry, he felt like he wasn't allowed to cry, he couldn't cry. Until the words that followed after the deep breath taken by John's father came, finishing the speech.

"And that is why... We are here to not only say good bye to John's story, but also continue it. Within our hearts, he will always follow us. He will experience what we experience, see what we see, watch over us and... Live on."

Max was shocked as he saw the ashes spread out over the graveyard. Even in John's last moments, he created something beautiful, as the ash danced around in the wind like it was meant to be. Tears began to well in his eyes. He knew that the ash was not John, his body was simply disintegrated in the fire that had suddenly engulfed his room seven days ago, with nothing identifiable left. He knew that this was not John, yet his tears wouldn't stop. His friend was gone. John wouldn't come back, he couldn't  come back. But even so, the ashes that danced in the air seemed to give Max the feeling that everything was over, that it was fine to let go of his self-hatred now.

That he was forgiven  for whatever he never did.

*-*-*-*-*

Once home, Max spent the remainder of the monday lying in his bed, thinking of what he would do from now on. He couldn't hate himself anymore, it felt wrong after the funeral.

Then, taking up a nostalgic book lying on the wooden floor, Max began reading the only thing that still was intact in the rubble of the half-burned house his friend used to live in. He had read the mysterious book every night since he recieved it six days ago, and always seemed to keep rereading its content. It felt like the book itself always changed content depending on how much, or in what way, he read it. He confirmed that the text was always the same, but the view and feelings was somehow... different, every time he read it, as if it wanted to hide its secrets deep underneath a thick layer of lies.

His sight also stopped every time at the symbol that was drawn in the middle of the book. It looked like a circle with the number five drawn through it, like some bad version of an old rune.

Putting down the book under his bed, Max tried to sleep for the night, but his thoughts kept wandering to how his dead friend actually managed to accidentally take home a book from the university's library. It wasn't forbidden, but he knew his friend well enough to say with confidence that John never once took home the books.

'And just how does one lonely book survive such a destruction?.. Luck... I guess.'

Max closed his eyes, and slept soundly. But he wouldn't wake up the next morning in time for university.

Tomorrows Tuesday was a day off.