It was a beautiful day. It really was a shame that it was ruined by what I had to do. The Qi’s were lovely, they always had been, but they had just lost their son a few months ago, and I was the last one to see him alive. A part of me believed that they hated me. I knew they wouldn’t, but it came from a hatred of myself. I guilt that never left.

I walked past the school on the way to the Qi’s house. The school was near empty. I could only see a few kids sitting in the schoolhouse. Not only were there few children at the school, barley anyone was anywhere in the town. A lot of the stores were closed, and only a few women were shopping, mostly for groceries. It was a sad sight. Pallamin used to be full of people shopping and chatting. The war was slowly tearing apart Ossory.

I hated it.

War was glorified. We were told it was honourable. To die in battle. That was the correct way to go.

I hated it.

Now, me, a sixteen-year-old boy, was going to talk to two parents about their dead son.

The person dies, but the family is left to bear the weight.

I hadn’t even reached the Qi’s house, and I was about to start crying.

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

I didn’t deserve to cry.

I had it better than so many others.

I had no right to tears.

Others had it worst.

I stopped. In the centre of the path. I stopped.

I was then I noticed I had bit my lip too hard. The metallic taste of blood finally registered to my tastebuds.

It hurt. It made the tears more persistent.

But. I didn’t deserve to cry.

Others had it worst.

I kept walking.

My lip hurt, and the weight in my stomach only grew heavier.

But I didn’t cry.

I came to the Qi’s door. I bit my already sore lip.

I knocked.

I heard someone come to the door.

It opened.

There was Calla’s mum.

She stepped aside and gestured for me to come in. “Hello, Rico.”

She called me by my informal name. It was a familiar name in a now unfamiliar place. Without Calla, I didn’t feel welcome.

“Please take a seat. I’ll make some tea.” Qi-Lana gestured to the living room.

I awkwardly took a seat on one of the pillows on the ground. I decided to go for the more polite way of sitting. Instead of crossing my legs, I sat on my heals. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was polite.

When Qi-Lana came back with the tea, she sat down opposite me. I poured the tea. First to Qi-Lana, then to myself. While I was pouring the tea, she looked down until I was finished pouring. It was an old tradition to show trust to the other person. Looking away meant they could poison you, but you trusted them not to.

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We sat in awkward silence until Qi-Lana asked, “Were you there when he, when he..." She stumbled over her words and was unable to finish the question.

I closed my eyes, took a breath. “Yes.” I felt the tears already starting, but I forced them back.

Qi-Lana looked away. Without looking at me, she whispered, “What was the last thing he said?”

We had been speaking Dallie, so it came as a shock to Qi-Lana when I started speaking in Mino. “Look for me in the stars tonight, gi adro.” Saying it brought me back to the day.

It hurt.

Qi-Lana drew a shaky breath. I could tell she was trying to stop the tears, but they still ran down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away.

Her questions brought everything back. I bit my already sore lip. My breathing began to speed up. I felt like I was kneeling next to him again. His blood everywhere.

I looked down at my shaky hands. They were covered in blood.

I blinked.

The blood was gone.

It was gone.

It was never really there.

It was gone.

I looked back up at Qi~Lana. She was still pointedly looking away from me.

I didn’t know what to do, so I pulled out the bag of Calla’s things.

Qi~Lana looked up as I placed the bag on the table.

I took a deep breath and pulled out the first object in the bag. It was the box holding Calla’s badge ribbon. I pushed it across the table to Qi-Lana.

She took it in her hands gingerly. She looked at it for a few seconds before placing it back on the table.

The next thing I pulled out was the small tin box that held Calla’s Tibtan supplies and his ring. He had never worn Tibtans, but Qi-Lana had insisted he take the supplies. The ring that was also held in the box had been his grandfathers. It was a small silver band with a floral design. He had never worn it in battle for fear of it getting lost. I had always been a bit small. I also pulled out his journal. It was a small, leather-bound book. I had seen him writing in it from time to time.

I pushed the last two things from the bag over to Qi-Lana. She picked up the time box, removed the ring, placing it on top of the journal. She pushed the journal and the ring back to me. “Have them.”

I took the items in my hands. I didn’t know what to do with them.

“Thank you for bringing me these.” Qi-Lana said. She was crying freely now. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Her words only solidified my guilt. I wish I had died instead of Calla. But then again, I couldn’t bear to imagine the same grief shown by Qi-Lana in my mother. I just wished that Calla had never died. I wish I could have stopped it. Done something to stop it.

I was about to start crying. I could feel it.

I refused to cry in front of Qi-Lana. “I’m going to head off. Thank you for the tea.” I said already stuffing the journal and ring into my satchel and standing up.

Qi~Lana didn’t say anything as I left.

I half ran down the path from the Qi’s house.

Despite my best efforts, the tears came. I darted off the path into the forest. I slumped down next to a tree.

I let my head fall into my hands.

My breathing got faster and faster. I bit my lip again. The blood came quickly. It hurt, but it gave me something else to think about.

The blood only worked for a few seconds. I had become used to pain.

Guilt and grief swallowed me. I was starting to drown. I felt like I was falling.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears streaming down my face.

Through the darkness, I felt a warm hand slip across my shoulders.

I looked up to see a blurry figure. They had blond hair.

I blinked a few times to clear the tears from my eyes. It was Calla’s dad.

“Rico, can you do something for me?” Qi-Hilomain asked. I nodded. “Count to one hundred, skipping every number with a five or eight in it.”

It was an odd request, but I did what I had been asked. “One, two, three, four, six, seven, nine, ten... ninety seven, ninety nine, one hundred.”

Once I had finished counting, I understood why he had gotten me to do it. It had given me something else to think about. It was a small help, but at least I could breathe normally again.

“Good job, Rico. You are doing really well.”

I nodded. The lump in my throat was still making speech a challenge.

“Thank you for coming today. It meant a lot, my wife. I understand this must have been challenging for you to do.” Qi-Hilomain looked at me with nothing but kindness.

His words made me feel better and worse at the same time. I was glad to have something to think about, but his kindness added to the almost suffocating grief.

Qi-Hilomain sat with me, talking about trivial things until I had calmed down.

“Thank you, Qi-Hilomain.” I said as I started to get up.

“No need for formality. Call me Hilomain.” He said as he offered me a hand. “Don’t feel bad for your emotions. No one expects you to push through without a sound. It’s not healthy.”

I nodded. “I should get home. Dinner will be soon.”

As I was turning away to leave, Hilomain caught my wrist. “Please don’t do this in silence. If you ever want to talk, my door is always open.”

“Thank you, Hilomain.”

Hilomain let go of my wrist. I walked back to the path and headed back home. I knew what he had said was right, but I couldn’t bring myself to put my weight on someone else.