Today was Isaac's birthday. He always had a good time at them. And he always tried to make sure other people who were there did so as well. Isaac was a kind child and very empathetic. He could always sense the feelings of others and was eager to help them if they had issues. He hoped that he could grow up to be someone who helps people often. Although he was not quite sure how. He wished he could grow up faster. Since he always felt like it took so long for him.

Isaac Dorian had a condition. It was, in part, his condition that contributed to his empathy. For it made him realize what could be lost in life. It was not a debilitating one. But it was enough to put him under the weather at times. And its effects came and went. Although it did not ruin his ability to run around and play, it did change his appearance slightly. He remembered that long ago he had had black hair. But now it had faded to mostly white. His eyes had changed color too, as pigment was lost from them, giving him an Albino appearance and making too much sun be dangerous for him.

But Isaac was happy. About most things, that is. While his parents always made sure he had friends and took him out to things, there was one thing he was sad about that often stuck in the back of his mind. This was that him and his family often had to move from place to place. They would be in one location for awhile, and he would go to school there. But eventually, he would have to move. And this would often involve leaving friends behind. Despite being shy and skittish, he always managed to make new friends in the new areas they moved to. But there was still always a degree of sadness in the transition. His parents gave a loose reason for why they needed to move, but he did not understand it.

So this moment was bittersweet. Because he knew he was quickly approaching the point when he would have to move on once again. He had grown numb to this reality over time. People come and go, but he remains. He hoped he would have just as many friends in his next life. He always felt lucky that he managed to make new friends as he moved around. And he wondered whether it was due to his attempts to be kind to others.

But those were thoughts for another day.

Today was a happy day.

And he vowed to make sure everyone remembered it as such.

The party today was taking place at a sky pool. These are pools placed at the top of buildings that give a view of the entire surrounding area. He burst out onto the roof, looking around in amazement at the breathtaking view. He was the first one there, of course. It was his party, after all. Looking around, he saw that this one even had a section that used backdrops to make it seem like you were swimming in the air. Those parts of the pool are not for those who are scared of heights, however. He wouldn't blame the kids who didn't want to go into that part, since it was a rather intimidating vision. Swimming out and seeing it look like clouds are beneath you.

To add to the aesthetic, the pools would often also bait sky fish into coming near to them and swimming around the building, giving the entire thing an amazing vision that you were unlikely to see on the ground. In many ways, the experience of being at one of these was almost more about the aesthetics than about the swimming. Because there was just so much to look at. At night, they would sometimes have a fireworks display or light show too (after doing something to lure away the fish, of course. For it would be rather awkward if both were in the same place). And there was going to be a light show today for his birthday.

He walked to and fro, making sure that everything was set up for when other people would arrive. In truth, he did not really like to be the center of attention, on account of being rather shy. He twiddled his thumbs nervously, thinking about the fact that he would have to be so focused on again. But since he was about to move, he did want a chance to get to do something bigger and say goodbye to everyone he knew. As usual, he planned to downplay his own centrality to the party. He didn't like to be sung at or watched open presents. He would even clarify to people who weren't very close to him that presents weren't necessary at all. He wanted the experience to be a chance for him to make others happy, not to focus on himself. If not for how much he wanted to do things for others, he likely would never have been okay with large parties at all.

The truth is, while it was not something he considered when he was very young, he did catch on over time that his family seemed to have more money than those around him. This embarrassed him slightly on account of how his empathy made him aware, even at a young age, at what types of problems others might have. He thought that when he was older, he could try to use that money to do something for other people. But he did not bring this up with his parents on account of concerns over what they might think of this. For they did not seem to share such an enthusiasm.

Eventually, the moment came, and the kids streamed in for his party. As he watched them come in, he thought about how he would have liked a chance to cry and say goodbye to those he was closer to one by one - after all, this may even be the last time he sees some of them outside of school. But that would create a somber tone for the party. And he would feel bad making it all just about how he was leaving. So he greeted them each individually with a smile on his face. One that belied the deep chasm beneath.

As he did this, he glanced shortly over at his parents, who in appearance came off oblivious to the realities of how he felt. They didn't seem sad about the situation at all. Maybe it was his own fault. He tried to avoid expressing his dismay about this to them because he knew they didn't like to hear it. And he felt guilty because they did so much else for him. His parents had something to do, and so would not be present for the latter half of the party at all. He wondered where it was they were going.

The events now underway, he dove in the pool to go swimming with the other kids, and tried to enjoy himself for the day. But underneath his forced smile, this was all still weighing heavily on his mind. He partook in everything that was prepared there. Not just the pool, but the various games that were set up. It was an effort, but he was used to having to force himself to express a positive demeanor when necessary. But over time, in part from presenting as such, he did start to enjoy the day more for real, almost forgetting in the process what it was that ailed him.

By the time night fell, despite everything, he was fully enthralled and caught up in the moment. As the show began, he gasped in amazement at the staggering lights that flew unburdened in the skies above them. And for a brief moment, he forgot all that was weighing on his mind. Music soared out alongside it. And as he stretched out his arms he felt like its bombastic sound could carry him away from his worries, so that he might float listlessly up into the sky.

As he looked over the edge at the spinning lights, he tried to be optimistic about what the future would hold. For time marches on. And all you can do is move forward to meet it. He didn't want to be stuck in the present. Or unable to let go of the past. He thought he should try to take moving as an opportunity. A chance to see something new. For after all, there are many who wished for such an opportunity but who ended up stuck in one place for a long time.

And who would want to be stuck in one place for a long time?

As the party winded down, he began to come off of his high of excitement. Friends trailed out one by one. And he felt saddened as he saw them go. For soon enough, would come a time when he never got to see them again. He wondered whether he would reconnect with them in his adult life. Or would they have moved on from him by then? He stepped out of the pool and got dressed back in normal clothes. And for the few closer friends who stayed late he had a fun time talking and laughing. But as time marched on, even they would have to go. And they, too, left one by one.

Eventually, they were all gone. And only he remained.

He walked about, picking up his things, and walked down to the lobby, where he waited for his parents to come collect him to him and take him home. His parents always had an extravagant appearance in dress to match the extravagant events. But he was starting to view this with more scrutiny now. Wondering if it was all an appearance to cover up something. For all their preparation, his parents had not remembered when the party ended nor bothered to be there on time. He was not sure how to contact them, for they did not yet allow him a phone. So he just waited, sitting, with nothing else to do. Feeling alone in both body and spirit.

But as he waited, something else happened. Something more unexpected. He began to feel more eerie. Like there was something dangerous present. He looked up and saw it only for a moment. A figure in a long coat and hood watching him from across the street with a terrifying air. He couldn't see their eyes. But he felt their gaze, looking deep into his soul. And he could tell that they weren't merely glancing past him. Their observation was boring into him personally.

But the moment passed. And the figure was gone. Leaving him feeling uneasy. Uncertain if it was but a dream. And leaving the street empty with no other motion for the remainder of the still spring night.

Time passed in a portion he could not recount. Eventually, his parents' car pulled up. And he forgot almost all about this phantom, in relief that he had not been abandoned. His mother got out, loading the car and asking about the portion of the party which they had not been present for. And then before settling in once again kissed him on the head.

“Never grow up. You are precious just the way you are.”

He thought about this. He used to like this sentiment when he was younger. But he had grown ambivalent to it over time. After all, he was already in middle school. He should think about growing up now and about the future. Lots of things would change for him once he was in high school. He felt he was too old for sentiments such as this.

Despite his attempts to feel positive, his mood soured once again. And he felt somber on the ride home. He hated to question his parents when they did so much for him. But he didn't feel like he could keep quiet about it any longer.

The problem, though, was, what was it he was even trying to ask? He thought about it. There were many different things he wanted to get a chance to talk about. But his parents were always fairly evasive. And while he felt loved, he at times felt like this was conditional on him being a recipient who didn't protest. As if he was a toy to be paraded around on their whims.

He could ask whether they really had to move. But he had done that before, when younger. And the answer was none too satisfying. So he could perhaps tone it down a bit. He thought of a softer way to word his question. And as he did so, he found himself wondering why he was so afraid of his parents. And realizing now for the first time that he indeed was afraid. Afraid to act outside of his expected parameters.

“Would it be possible for me to... keep in contact with some of my friends after we move?”

The silence was deafening. He could feel the jovial air in the car suddenly turn negative. And he could suddenly sense intense hostility from them that was not there previously. He expected it to become a stressful conversation. But instead, he was simply shut down immediately.

“I am afraid that will not be possible.”

The tone this was delivered in, despite a faux air of calmness, had such implicit hostility that it made him legitimately afraid to go on. He had come to terms with the fact that they had to move. But now that he had tried to come up with what he saw as a compromise, he was confused why it was shut down so harshly.

And he began to grow uneasy. He was old enough now to suspect that something like this would be explained if the reasoning for it was benign. And that if they were keeping a secret, it may have dark intentions behind it. He felt guilty for thinking this way about his own parents. But what choice did he have, when it seemed like they were determined to hold him back and keep him from having long term relationships? Maybe if he lived too far away, it would be difficult to see someone. But he knew that there were other ways to keep in touch. And that it was a big deal for them to be forcibly prevented.

He began to brood for the rest of the trip home.

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Some weeks later, he arrived at the new home that they were moving into. It had already been set up for them. All of his favorite things were placed in a bedroom that would be his. The house and courtyard were already decorated. The house itself was fairly large, for his parents were rather wealthy, although not in the upper echelons of society.

He already had a new school set up. But he did not feel eager to go. School felt too easy for him now. The studying he did on his own was already at a much higher level than anything they did in class. His parents told him not to be concerned over this. If he could do homework faster, he would have to spend less time on it. But he started seeing it as a waste to go at all. He didn't feel like he was really learning much by going anymore that he couldn't learn faster on his own.

And... friends. He could make friends there. But he felt jaded now. Even if he made friends, eventually he would have to leave them once again. He thought he was okay with this. That he had come to terms with it by now. But it was a struggle feeling like they moved on without you. He felt held back by his situation. Especially ever since he came to realize that, after all, they would all still know eachother long after he was left behind.

He went on to his new middle school all the same, though. And he did interact with a few new kids there who he supposed could become closer friends. But he did not feel very much like spending time with them. He found himself staying distant more than he used to. He was young, so he could not understand his own motivations. He felt like if he spent time with them, he was just going through the motions. Much of the joy had left him.

And... his sickness got worse. He was coughing more now. And he began to feel physically weak more often. It was not so bad that he couldn't go out or walk around. But he found himself wanting to less. Often spending more time drawing or playing something by himself.

He asked his parents about it. But they told him it was all in his head. And that he had no need to understand his body. That he was straining himself too much, overworking and studying, and trying to grow up too much. And that he should just relax and not take things so seriously. Take the time to be a child. These answers did not satisfy him. And his fears that they were deliberately keeping him acting young by forcibly removing all influences aimed at older children or teens did not help. He looked forward to highschool. To the greater freedom that would come from entering a new stage. But his parents would get aggressive if he mentioned this. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to watch much in the way of teen media. And as time passed, he began to notice this more intently.

And he began to get suspicious.

It was something difficult to place. In the past, he had thought of his parents as perhaps just a little strict. But that this was something offset by the things that wealth could bring him. But he started to push boundaries more. And noticed over time just how far this strictness went. He noticed that he was never allowed to go out alone without guards or to be too far from them when people were over. Everything that came into his house seemed rigorously curated. He had heard other children talk about cyberspace for some time but never given it much thought. But he noticed now that it was something he was kept from. He was allowed access to a library of various books that he could learn from on his own time, but he began to notice how many topics seemed suspiciously absent.

He sat on his bed to think. His house started to feel like a jeweled prison. And he began to realize that despite the ostensible presence of opulence, that he was never really treated as the beneficiary, but rather that he existed for the sake of his parents. As if the house were a zoo, with him as the observed creature. He thought about the nature of zoos themselves. Did the animals there feel trapped too? He started to feel sympathy for all those who felt stuck. For feel stuck he did. He felt like despite the changing scenery, fundamentally, his life had not changed in a long time. And that his parents were actively trying to hold him back from changing.

He wanted to know. And he made it his mission to find out. He couldn't go far. But he could try to figure out whether they were hiding something. So he began looking. On a particular day, he got up to walk around the house, thinking of what might be there for him to discover. Most of the rooms were more decorative. There were some storage rooms in the attic, but he wasn't sure if he would be likely to find much there. He climbed up to the attic and spent some time up in them, sorting through boxes to see if he found anything suspicious. But he began to get discouraged due to finding nothing of note. There was some old family stuff. Some of it was even rather interesting. But this wasn't what he was interested in now.

He began to get discouraged. Wondering whether he shouldn't give up looking. He could try running away, maybe. His parents always had a few guards around the house. But he considered now that the guards that were allegedly there for his family's protection might actually be to keep him in. He was young; he wouldn't be able to get far against them. And they had a camera system to watch the outside grounds, so he would likely immediately be noticed if he was found trying to leave them. He wondered if he didn't have a chip too, to make himself able to be tracked down even if he escaped for real.

But on walking discouraged through his house again, he thought of something else. His parents always kept an office, which they kept locked and which he was told he was not allowed to enter. They did in previous houses too. But curious now, he tried the lock on it to see. It was solid. He couldn't smash through. But in that moment, a plan began forming in his mind. If they had something, it would likely be in there. What secrets was this room hiding? Did his parents know of the hooded figure who had been observing him? What dark conspiracy tied them together?

First, he went to the security room on the pretense of speaking with the guard. On this, there was nothing for them to be suspicious of. In this room, there were several screens tied to cameras across the property. He looked at the various cameras inside and outside the house. And from this, he realized that within the office room there was no camera. The guards were not allowed inside that room. So if he managed to get inside and close the door behind him when his parents weren't around, he determined that he would have a decent stretch of time alone in the room. At least long enough for the guards to realize he was missing and go looking for him.

But what of the lock itself? He walked back and took a quick look at it. It didn't seem to be an electronic lock. Oftentimes, manual locks would be used out of fear of electronic ones being hackable. But these, too, were not perfect. If it was manual, it was pickable. He just needed to know how.

He knew of the concept of lockpicking. He had heard it mentioned in books and movies. But he had no clue where to begin. He doubted that either of these things would contain an actual, in-depth description on how to do it. He looked around at the books he had access to. He did have some books about the mechanics of objects. He looked through them. And to his exhilaration, he found that one did indeed have a portion that mentioned the design of doors and locks.

He spent days going over this, trying to understand the mechanics of a lock. Despite his ostensible age, he had felt advanced at learning - this being part of why his actual school seemed too far behind him. And so he began a plan of trying to use these books to reverse-engineer the idea of a lockpick.

He felt that if there was anything in the office room, that he didn't have a lot of chances to get at it. If he was seen tying to pick the lock, then anything in there would likely be moved. Perhaps even a different lock would be added. So he needed to be able to practice in some other way.

He requested some tinkering materials. And was shortly brought some objects for doing so. Quite a lot, in fact. He didn't want to be seen just making a makeshift doorknob out of fear that it would give up his intended activity. So he spent some time making a few different simple objects as a distraction, leaving them around his room. And then set to work, working out the logistics of a lock. He had a few setbacks, but eventually, in time, this indeed worked as he intended, and he came to understand how to manipulate them with picks on a fundamental level.

He continued practicing with this to get better at it. And he managed to get his speed of doing so down to a relatively short time. He knew that the hallway leading to the office had a camera. So he would not have long to get into the room. He would need to cause a distraction in order to ensure that the guard at the cameras would not be looking.

He sat to think over what could work for this. He could start a fire, but that would be too dangerous. If it was just a firework, it would not draw enough attention. And if it looked like a prank, they would likely go looking for him immediately. He considered using an animal, but he felt bad at the thought. But he realized he already had the tools he needed. He just needed to design something that would move after a delay. If he rigged up a pile of things that would make a loud noise on camera, it would likely distract the camera guard long enough to have him look away from the hallway screen. Doubly, if it was unclear what happened, making them have to struggle to determine what they were looking for.

So he rigged up a machine that would, after ten minutes, pop out. And he set up in a conspicuous place outside what looked like a decoration that would readily fall from a small unseen movement. They would see him setting it up, of course. But they would not know why. And if his tool did not make it obvious its purpose they would not suspect anything. Leaving them to assume that perhaps a cat had knocked it over when they weren't looking.

The day came. A day when his parents would be gone for a long stretch. He set everything up. He put it into motion. He had tested it before to know, down to the second, how long it would take to cause a crash. And he walked back inside, hoping to allay suspicion. He knew where the cameras were in the house after all. He had memorized them from the security room. So he would try to avoid them as much as possible, to leave confusion over where he was going.

As the time ran out, he heard a crash in the distance. From there on, he had no way to know what would happen with the guard. But it was now or never. He slipped quickly into the hallway leading up to the office and walked down to the end. It was long, and had nothing else on the far side. He did not know how much time he had, but he knew he had no time to dawdle. His hands fumbled as he attempted to open the lock with his homemade tools. He dropped his lock picks out of nervousness. And he cursed himself for the feeling that it took too long. He inserted the picks, playing with the mechanism, nervous that he could be spotted at any time and that it was possible he had been already. But eventually, he got the door open. He quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief.

He felt more calm now. But he wasn't sure if this was unwarranted. He had no way of knowing if he had been spotted. He may have some time to look, or alternatively, any minute now, a guard could bust in and the game would be over. He didn't know what would happen to him for being found in here. But at this point, he was afraid that the consequences could end up bigger than he had been used to. For he begun to see his parents in a more scary light than he had in the past.

But now inside, he looked around the room. It was quiet inside like the rooms were soundproofed. The room itself was nothing spectacular. It looked like any office room might, albeit fairly ornate. There were a few desks, and various filing cabinets. There was a drink corner designed to look like special guests might be served there. He did know that some important-looking people had come here from time to time. Though he did not know what that was about.

He turned on one of the computers. It needed a password to be used. He thought about this for a few moments and tried a few words he thought his parents might use. But none of these words granted access. He concluded that this would not likely be something he could guess so easily. He powered it back down. Thinking it over, however, he got nervous. Some computers might list when they were last accessed. He cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. If possible, he should leave no trail.

Having hit one dead end, he went over to the filing cabinets. These too were locked. He had not considered that something inside the room would be locked as well. But fortunately, he already had the picks with him. He hoped that this lock would be easy to get through. Filing cabinets, he discovered, tended to have easier locks to pick than doors. After little more than inserting the tools, the drawer opened. And he gained access to the papers inside.

He sorted through them. Many of them were about things that had little to do with him. A lot of them mentioned money or the church. He left them where they were, so as not to disturb them. Eventually, he started getting to things with his name on them. He sorted through them. Some of them were just doctor visit papers or school papers. He looked over them, but there did not seem to be anything interesting on them. The term biohacking showed up on some of them. He loosely understood what it was. Altering your body for better health. But he wasn't sure how this applied to him, and the technical knowledge seemed too complicated for him.

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He regretted that he didn't bring a camera in with him, because if he had, he would have been able to take pictures of some of these papers to decipher later. He looked back at the entrance to the room. But he didn't have time to go back now. It would be too risky. He looked back at the cabinet. But suddenly, he froze. He heard something like a creaking by the door, and he looked quickly back at it. He waited to see if someone was coming in. He remained staring at it for a long time. But no one did. Eventually, he calmed down and kept looking.

He found his birth certificate. He expected to find something mysterious or suspicious on it. So he looked away for a long period before finally looking. But... he didn't. It was pretty normal-looking. It had his normal name on it. It had the right locations. He wasn't sure what he expected to find here, but whatever it was, he hadn't yet found it.

He sat down in disappointment. What was he even doing? He might theoretically find some papers they were keeping hidden about something related to something other than him himself, but so what? That's not what he was looking for. And finding out that they were secret criminals, or whatever else they might do in secret, had little to do with him. Although it would perhaps lend more credibility to the idea that they were doing something suspicious that involved him himself.

He was about to put the papers back. But he figured he should look over them one last time. He quickly glanced at them, hoping to find some kind of discrepancy. He didn't expect to find much at this point. But he was already here, so he may as well.

He looked through them with bored eyes. But suddenly... he got an intuition. He picked up two different papers to compare them. And he noticed an issue. Finally, what he had been looking for. He picked up another paper to verify and noticed the same thing. He could have taken pictures for proof. But he was now shaking in anger at what he found and no longer worried about being discovered. He just kept the papers themselves. He stuffed everything he didn't need back in the cabinets without a concern for order and got up to leave the room.

He was nervous and already panicking over what he had seen. He couldn't explain it. But if it was true, his parents would have to be able to. He closed the cabinet and slammed the door back shut, no longer caring who knew he was there. He trailed back into the hallway and back to his room. He saw no evidence that the guards noticed his activities. This itself did not prove anything. But it didn't matter now. He waited for the inevitable confrontation he would have to have when his parents returned.

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Isaac's parents were sitting in the drawing room, speaking and laughing. They had returned from somewhere or other and had tea and sandwiches brought to them. It was after dinner time, but it seemed like they had not had time for a full meal when out, since they were likely busy with something. But no matter.

Isaac glared at them from behind the table. But they did not notice him at first. He walked up menacingly to speak.

“How... old am I?”

The parents looked shocked, like they didn't expect such a question. And weren't sure how to answer it in a blowoff way. They looked at each other nervously.

“W-what do you mean?”

He walked up and dropped his birth certificate and some of the more recent doctors office papers on the table.

“Some of these visits are decades apart from eachother! Why am I... how is this possible? Am I even Isaac? Whose papers are these?”

His parents looked at each other, still nervous, and then started forcing a smile.

“W-what? Of course you are Isaac. That's normal. What is wrong with that?”

He was getting frustrated. In the past, he might not have scrutinized this even had he found it. But he had heard kids in his school mention age before and realized that this wasn't at all a reasonable age for middle school. He knew that kids were supposed to be similar ages to others they went to school with, so he wondered why this had never came up.

His mind was racing. Did the guards in the house make sure that other kids who visited never talked about age? How would they? Did they do this by talking to the parents before they even came over. Does that mean... were a lot of his friends not even ones he authentically found? Were they just people his parents paid to have sent over so that he would not be alone? Was anything in his life real?

He slammed his fist down on the table.

“Don't lie to me! I know this isn't normal. At this age, I should be an adult! Why am I still a child?”

They looked at him, trying to placate him.

“We were just doing what was best for you. It is for your own good.”

He could scarcely believe what he was hearing.

“My... my own good? What is... that's crazy!”

They leaned back, making now a more unhinged appearance as they spoke, with their mask of agreeableness dropping, and showing beneath it a terrifying expression he had before now never seen.

“Don't speak to us that way. The world is full of corruption. It is better for you to stay innocent.”

He felt uneasy at how their demeanor changed. Backing down now slightly, but still pleading out the message he wanted to convey.

“But I've... I've waited so long to grow up. Are you trying to take all of that away?”

They furrowed their brows at him in a way that felt very intimidating, scaring him even more intently than the first time.

“We are your parents! It is our decision how to raise you, no one else's. You exist to be as we want you. We know what's best for you, and we won't tolerate any disobedience or disrespect. You belong to us, and you will do as we say.”

They turned to speak to each other, temporarily ignoring him.

"It is happening again. These breakdowns are getting to be a rather large nuisance."

"We will have to take him to get him fixed again. Hopefully it sticks this time."

Isaac was on the verge of tears, and being upset was making him hyperventilate, which led to him coughing. His sickness was getting worse. Realizing that this was unlikely to go anywhere, and now intensely afraid, he backed off and then ran away crying to his room, slamming the door. They started after him to chastise him more and acted like they were going to come into his room. But he propped his door closed to bar entry, worried now about actual physical harm. They stood there yelling through the door for awhile, but he tuned them out and tried to ignore their shouting. Eventually, their voices got quieter, and he assumed they had given up and ambled away. They were never good at keeping focus on him once they got bored.

He wasn't sure he could trust anyone anymore. He knew he was being lied to, but he had no idea how to figure out any more about why. He sat at his desk, crying for awhile, now in intense fear over the future. But eventually, this subsided to a whimper. He had no clue how much time had passed in the interval. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. He wondered if the problem was just with him. That he was just ungrateful for everything that had been done for him. And that he should just brush aside what he felt. But after all, he had no way to determine this. He was just a child. And in that position, you are lost when it is your own adults who you feel you cannot trust.

Gradually, he began to look out the window. It was beginning to rain lightly now as night descended over the world. The sound of rain always made him feel more peaceful. But at the moment, he wasn't sure how well it was working. He closed his eyes to say a prayer to Sakras for guidance.

But as he opened them again, he was suddenly shocked. Because he could see that outside now, down in the courtyard was the same shadowy hooded figure from before. The figure was looking up at the house. Whoever it was, they knew where he lived! They weren't initially looking at him, just the house in general. But as he put his head to the glass, suddenly their head turned in his direction. He shot back from the window. He was nervous now, wondering why they were here. And feeling trapped between two unknown dangers.

He looked back out, wondering if he should tell his parents, despite everything. But he could see that the figure was already engaging with the guards, and so a warning was likely already raised. Although his parents were slightly wealthy, the house was only a small mansion. And so there were not very many guards. And as an extent of this, he was worried the guards could be injured from the altercation, it being a surprise attack, and him not knowing whether the figure was by itself.

He saw the first two guards run up. But the figure moved quickly, tripping one of them and grabbing the other one to inject them with something. At this point, the other two pulled weapons, but the figure ducked behind a wall, pulling and shooting the one on the ground with something.

The other two guards hesitated and made their way around slowly. But the figure was already gone from the side when they arrived there. And as they looked confused, it jumped out at them from the shadows on the other side. The figure moved like it was almost inhuman, with reflexes the guards could not keep up with even together. Shots rang out. The guards tried to shoot, but it dodged their attempts to shoot at it and injected the remaining two both with something that made them collapse.

It hit Isaac now. All the guards were now down. He panicked, realizing that there was now nothing to protect the house from the solitary intruder. He hoped the intruder was only there for money, and would leave him and his family alone. But he couldn't be sure. He felt frozen in fear. But he had no choice. Despite now no longer trusting his parents, he needed to go tell them what was happening, in case they didn't already know. He knew from fiction that people would often call police in these moments, but he did not know how. Leaving him with few options.

He rushed out into the hallway, shouting for them, and into their rooms. But he didn't find them there. He was now even more worried. He ran back. The interloper might already be in the house. And he had no way to know the relative locations of either the invader or his parents. Could he be sure his parents were even there? He thought about it for a moment. But he didn't want to back down from bravery now. He cautiously made his way forward, stopping to hide and peek around various corners.

Eventually, he saw unnatural shapes lying on the ground. And as he slowly snuck closer, he realized that they were his parents. He was worried, thinking they might be dead. So temporarily forgetting the intruder, he rushed forward to check. But as he checked to make sure they were okay, he saw that they didn't seem to be dead. And they didn't look particularly injured, although he could not be sure. They seemed like they had been given something to knock them out. So for now, at least they were safe, provided that this was all the intruder intended to do to them. He reflected on the fact that he still felt attached to them, even after realizing they were hurting him.

But he looked up suddenly from hearing a noise in the next room. The intruder must be in there! He cautiously crept to the door to look in. Inside of it, he could see the figure now, sitting in the dark moonlight, legs crossed on a chair, as if waiting for him. He could have tried to run. But he did not feel he would get far, seeing how quickly they handled trained guards. While he had done some martial arts himself, he would be no match for a trained adult twice his size. Much less one that just incapacitated four guards.

But he realized something then. He found he did not even want to run. His curiosity at all the mysteries that surrounded him had grown too strong. He felt that the intruder knew something about him and his family. And come what may, he wanted to try to get answers from them. Because he knew now that no one else intended to be honest with him.

Not even trying to hide or arm himself, he walked slowly into the room, prepared to run back if they made any sudden movements. The figure's face was in shadow. So he could sense nothing from their expressions. But they did not seem to be tensed, or waiting to jump at him. So he believed he would at least have a chance for a conversation.

But he wasn't sure how to even begin such a conversation. He was shy at the best of times. He found himself standing silently there, just looking at the figure. And the figure sat there silently as well, looking back. It was a strange moment. Like a moment of intimacy through an alien situation you had no context for.

But he couldn't stand there silent forever. Even if you did not want to speak, he knew you often had to force it. He spoke up.

“You were... at my birthday party, watching me from the shadows.”

The figure did not respond. He thought about it for a moment, and then went on.

“You must have been watching me for awhile.

“...

“You must know that I'm sick.

“Did you... are you the one who caused my sickness?”

There was more he wanted to ask. But this was the core of it. He opted to wait for a response before going on.

“No.”

The voice was altered and had a metallic sheen, so he could not tell much about the one speaking from it.

But he thought about their short response. He had no reason to trust them to be truthful. But at this point, he wasn't sure if he could trust anyone. And there were more things he wanted to ask about.

“I have felt... confused for awhile. Like there are things I don't understand. I don't know why there's things I struggle to remember. I don't even know how old I am. I don't know why I am so confused. And this feeling has been growing over time. No one will answer me. No one will help me.”

He stopped himself suddenly. He realized that this was not really a question. And that he would need to turn it into one.

“Do you... know anything about that?”

The figure leaned back. He could see that they were about to start talking more now.

“I didn't. Not before recently. But that is why I am here. I saw that you were in trouble, and I came to offer you a choice.”

Isaac was confused by this. Did he need to be rescued? And by who? He looked at the figure's back, which had a blade on it. He noticed that, despite having one, they had not drawn it in the courtyard. And so, while they could have killed, they had chosen not to.

“You have a weapon. You look like you are with some type of organization. Are you... here on a mission?”

The figure looked back at the blade that was over their shoulder, and then back at him.

“Its true. For the last few years, I have been working with an organization for a particular goal. But I'm not on a mission today. No one sent me here. And no one else knows I am here. It is... just me.”

He looked around quizzically.

“But why are you here? For me?”

The figure rested on the chair, looking forward coldly with its lack of a face. Slowly, they reached up to pull back their hood. As they did, he could see from the long hair that flowed out that it was a young woman. Adult, but fairly young. Of course, he was not one to judge. He was aware that he didn't quite understand how age worked. This being of course, the crux of his current problems.

She looked up and spoke to him.

“There was something I needed to follow up on.”

He thought about this. Her words did not clarify anything for him. But he felt like he was realizing something else. Something that was difficult to place.

She spoke again.

“Don't worry about the guards or your parents. I only put them to sleep. They will be fine when they wake up.”

It's true that the fact that she didn't hurt the guards on the way in made her seem more trustworthy. But that was hardly enough on its own. But now that he could hear her voice clearly, it felt like one he had heard before, long ago.

He looked at the ground, thinking for awhile. And then back up.

“You seem... familiar.”

He thought for a moment. He made a face like he was straining to remember.

"You... remind me of someone.”

He looked at her for a moment and then closed his eyes to think.

“She was... at my birthday. Many years ago. She said she had no friends. That she was alone and needed company. I showed her around for a week before I had to leave. And she thanked me. She said that it meant a lot.”

The young woman leaned back and smiled faintly, looking at the floor with unfocused eyes.

“I've never forgotten it. Thank you. At the time, I really needed a friend.”

He thought about it further and then looked up at her, confused.

“That was... you?”

He mulled it over. Her age didn't seem to make any sense. But he could feel that she was very familiar. And it is true that she did look like an older version of the girl from back then.

“You are... a lot taller now. We were the same age. Why do you look like a grownup? Did you... age extra fast?”

Her expression turned more negative. But he could see that it was not at him.

“Well... there is no easy way to tell you this. So I guess I will just jump into it. Forgive me if I am too straightforward. But it is... not me who was aging strangely. It was you. I aged normally. Arguably even slower than normal. In fact, you are actually older than I am. By quite a few years.

“You have been being artificially kept from aging by your parents. They have been using a dangerously large amount of age suppressants on you. And likely erasing some of your memories as well. These have been taking their toll. This is also the source of your sickness. And if it isn't stopped, you will likely end up dying from it soon.

“People can use technology to affect the rate their body ages. But it isn't meant to be used for more than a small amount. But you have been kept at the same age for over two decades. This started taking its toll on you over time. If it wasn't stopped, it would only have gotten worse. And you likely would not live much longer.

“I won't bother you with the details of how I know this. But I tracked you down a few weeks ago. And I spent some of the time since then digging up this information. What they are doing isn't strictly speaking legal. So they go to doctors who will keep it underground.”

Isaac listened to this. At first, he couldn't process what he was hearing. Him, aging oddly? But it had always felt normal to him. Or had it? It used to, but he wasn't sure anymore.

“But that can't be true. I...”

He thought about it. He wasn't sure he had a reason to trust her. At another time, he likely wouldn't have. But he could tell that nothing she was saying seemed that odd to him anymore, after what he had discovered today. And he felt shock pulse through him from what he heard as it began to set in. At first, he wasn't sure if he could believe it. He was about to protest. But instead, he went silent. And he thought back over his life. All the things in it that didn't add up. Why his parents were always ambiguous about his age. Why he couldn't stay in one place for long. He began to feel overwhelmed as so many thoughts rushed into his head at once.

He felt a burst of rage at them. It couldn't have been anyone else. His parents were always the ones taking him for these injections and appointments. And they didn't even deny it after all. If this was true, then they were the ones hurting him. But could he really think of them that way? They had always been so positive toward him. Or at least, they had in the past. Recently, they had begun to get more aggressive, as his questioning had raised more about the discrepancies he had noticed.

He held his head, shaking. Many thoughts and feelings were rushing into it at once. Anger at what happened to him. Sadness for the situation he found himself in. He realized he should maybe feel gratitude now for having been finally told what was going on. But it was hard to feel anything positive in the moment.

He thought about other kids aging past him without him and leaving him behind. How in order to keep his age secret, this was likely why him and his parents would have had to move around so that no one could see that it never changed. Which is also likely why he was never given a particularly good reason for needing to do so. He strained to remember just how many years had passed in his life, and began to realize that he could easily tell that it didn't add up when placed under scrutiny. And that this knowledge was, after all, only confirming his suspicions.

He began to feel hate towards his parents. He was realizing now why they were getting more suspicious over time. Answering less questions. Making up more lies. All just to keep him from ever becoming a teenager. Much less an adult.

But ultimately, he slumped down, no longer willing to protest. Too worn out to feel strongly any longer.

“But why? Why would they do this to me? I always loved them. I always cared about them.”

The woman looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“It's hard to say. But I could hazard a guess.

“There are a lot of people who can't handle the idea of their children growing up. Many will try to keep them acting young by preventing them from interacting with the world. Because they can't handle the feelings of their children growing apart from them. And they prefer the image of them as pure and innocent. They don't want to think of them getting into a relationship and their affection shifting from their parents towards someone else.

“But... in this case, your parents took it even further. It looks like it became an obsession for them. And they wanted not only to keep you acting young but for you to physically stay young forever. Even though the human body isn't designed for this. Doing so can't indefinitely prolong your lifespan. It will strain it, and could even lead to you dying early. Your parents might even know this and be okay with that. Because of their odd priorities.”

Isaac looked down sadly, thinking of the doctors' notes he had seen, which he now understood were talking about this, and realizing that he was going to have to see his parents in a new light. He was still a little hesitant to accept what he was hearing. But he figured that it was likely to validate itself in time. He thought about the fact that, over time, it started seeming like he was mentally older than the people he played with. But he just chalked it up to him being a good learner.

And it hit him now what it means to lose something for good. That this was time he could never get back. His entire life having a large chunk of adulthood potentially just sliced out of it entirely.

“I spent so long fantasizing about growing up. What I could do. Who I would be. But they took all of that away from me.

“I had so many friends I wish I could have kept. But I just accepted that I couldn't. That I had to move around and leave them behind. I often wondered what they were doing after we moved. Assuming that they were still my age. But I suppose that most of them are adults now.”

He hung his head and began crying faintly, rubbing his eyes.

“They all moved on without me. And here I am, still a child.”

The woman walked over to him, crouched down, and put her hand on his head.

“Not all. I am here. And I am here for you.

“You were there for me in my darkest times. And I am here now to repay the favor.”

She stayed there, comforting him for a moment while he sobbed. But after a time, she got up and walked over to the window to look out of it. The moonlight reflected off of her eyes, making them glow like sharp points.

“Let me tell you something. Something I have never told anyone else.”

She paused a bit to think before going on.

“When I was young, around the age you met me, I was suicidal. Every day, I fantasized about what it would be like to fade away. To not have to continue on in the life I found myself. Eventually I even went on to try to kill myself for real.

“I didn't think I had anything to live for or to look forward to because of the way I was raised. I couldn't even connect to other people because I didn't really understand empathy. It was just a word to me; I couldn't really feel it.

“But...”

She looked back at him.

“I always looked up to you.

“From what I saw of you, you were always empathetic and caring. Resilient to the things that could drag you down. You were all the things I wished I could be but which I couldn't find in myself. Although we did not know each other for long, I always valued the time we spent together. And I believe that it helped me learn what it was like to care about other people. To want to be strong for them.

“You might feel like you had everything stripped from you. In a way, it is true. They took time from you that you can never get back. For a time, you may hate them. Maybe forever.

“But... this is not the end. You can't change the past, but that doesn't mean the future is decided. Falling happens to everyone. But your life is defined not by how you fall, but by how you fight to rise up again.”

She knelt one leg back down on the floor.

“I looked up to you then. And... if you believe in yourself... you could become someone that people look up to again.”

She shook her head.

“I won't force you to come with me. If you want, you can stay here and live out the rest of whatever life they offer you. But if you want to be free, if you want to see where else life can take you... then I will be there to help you when you take your first stumbling steps.”

He was still sniffling and rubbing his eyes. But he looked up and smiled slightly back at her.

“I always wanted to be someone who people who had problems could rely on. Do you really believe I still could? After everything?”

She held out a hand to him.

“I always believed in you, Isaac. I always will.”

He looked up. And after wiping away his tears, he took her hand and climbed to his feet.

They started walking out of the room. But he stopped and looked up at her.

“Do you... still want to be friends?”

She looked back down and smiled.

“I've always wanted to be friends.”

----------------------------------------

My name is Isaac. Today is my birthday. I want to make sure everyone has a good time. I know I plan to. I am shy, so I don't really like being the center of attention. But I can make an exception for birthdays.

I have to move around often on account of my parents. It is unfortunate, but it is life, I suppose. Aside from this, I don't have much to complain about. But I know that others do. I want to be able to help them. When I grow up, I want to be someone who helps a lot of people! I don't really know what I mean by that. Not yet. But I have time to find out.

Looking around, I can see that people look like they are having fun. All but one person, that is. Out on the corner of the balcony, there is a girl standing there quietly, looking like she is crying and trying to hide it. I know her from school. I invited her here because I saw her sitting by herself yesterday and felt like she could use a friend. But I don't remember her name.

I walked over to speak with her. She looked shy as well.

“Hello. What is your name?”

She looked quietly at me, like she wasn't used to being spoken to, and was embarrassed to be seen crying. She responded while rubbing her eyes.

"Hi, I'm Xiu... I'm... I'm Mei.”

“Are you okay, Mei? You look sad.”

She hesitated before speaking but seemed to be relieved that she wasn't being judged.

“Sorry. For crying at your birthday, I mean. I'm not used to being around people I don't know. I've never had any friends my own age.”

I was dismayed at hearing this. It is always a sad thing when you have to move on from friends you know. Even if you do find new ones. But I had never heard of someone who had no friends before. I had never even considered such a thing.

I looked down sadly at hearing this. I felt like my world was expanded and that I learned something new in that moment. Something I wasn't sure I wanted to know. But no matter! Maybe this means she could understand my situation better then. Because I understand that not everyone has to move. And so most people can keep the same friends longer than I.

I stood next to her and looked off the balcony.

“Its okay. I am shy myself because I never get to know people for very long and always have to meet new people. I am going to have to move again soon. So sorry, we won't be able to spend much time together.”

I turned around to wag my finger at her.

“But you can be my guest of honor for today.”

She looked a little embarrassed. Like she wasn't sure she wanted to be the center of attention. But that's okay. I will make sure she doesn't have to talk to more people than she is okay with. I don't know what she is feeling. But I know that I can help.

She looked back at me and smiled weakly.

“Thank you. I saw you at school. I always thought you seemed nice. And that it would have been nice to be friends. But I don't really talk to anyone. So I didn't think I could.”

I looked down, sadly. I thought about how I would be moving soon, so I couldn't be long-term friends with her. But I still had a couple days. So I wanted to see if I could make her happy before then. I would try to spend every day with her.

I looked off in the distance, thinking of all the friends I had left behind. Would I ever see them again? When I was a grownup?

I looked back at her and smiled.

“I might not have much time. But maybe we will meet again. In another life.”

She smiled back, stronger now.

“I would like that.”

We sat in silence for awhile. Sometimes, there is nothing that needs to be said. It was a bittersweet moment. But who can say what the future holds?

We got up and went back inside.

----------------------------------------

Isaac piloted the helicopter low over the resort. In the years since Mei had rescued him, he had started to look a little older. But while his mind was faster to catch up in some ways (at least academic ones) on account of him having lived so long already, his body had not done so quite so quickly. And so, to avoid concerns over standing out in a facility such as the midnight sun, he had opted to take on a role for this mission where he would not enter the building directly, instead being a weapons dropoff and sniper backup. But this was not a large deal. Since for this mission, most of them were just functioning as a distraction to give her a chance to get deeper inside to the more protected areas.

He had not been working with the techno-gnostics for very long. Despite his nominal age, they had concerns over his initial demeanor due to him being held back. But he had already known so much due to his years of study that he quickly gained the required knowledge, and so had visibly the appearance of being a young prodigy, even though the truth was rather stranger.

Understanding now the position of importance that Mei held for the Great Work, he felt a sense of pride, knowing that there was a time when she looked up to him. She had surpassed him since then, on account of everything. But that was no matter. For now, he had a chance to look up to her as well. And he felt lucky that he had a chance to work with her, seeing her like the older sister that he never had – the type of family that would care for him for real, unlike that he had left behind.

He picked up the headset.

“Mei, where are you at?”