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It’s very dark outside, Kel remarks, peering out the bus window. The speed of the bus rips the scenery outside the windows into strips of vague, muddy colour—mostly patches of black asphalt, the occasional brown of fallen leaves and, if he’s lucky, varying hues of cars wheezing past in a hurry. The towns all look the same at this time. If he squints, he can almost imagine he’s approaching the outskirts of Faraway, nearing the bus stop he religiously waits at every Saturday.
No dice, though. He’s still got a good hour and six stations before that. (It’s not called Faraway Town for nothing, after all.)
They’re a little disorienting to him, the rides back after city outings. Kel loves exploring, plunging head-first into the guts of any new place he stumbles across, but it’s the getting out he’s bad at. He loses himself in the wandering and completely forgets his way, forced to then fumble around for a while before finally stumbling upon an exit. Maybe that’s why he and Sunny work so well together. Since forever ago, when they grew past the point of needing to be watched over, Sunny’s taken the lead, Kel following obediently behind him.
If one thought he would be trepid and hesitant, they couldn’t be more wrong. Despite his quiet nature, Sunny sought adventure first and foremost—he took after Mari, in that way—and didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the nearest mystery available: back then, the unknown streets, then the playground, the whole town, the forest eventually. Now, the city (which is actually just a concrete forest, if you think about it). But where Kel would’ve just been lost, Sunny finds his way easily. He charts new territory with the confidence of a seasoned explorer—a whole map fully inked in that head of his—then dutifully navigates back to the starting point, weaving through the maze of roads and alleys like he held Ariadne’s thread.
Kel always thought that was stupidly impressive. His own memory was far from sharp (thanks, ADHD!), but Sunny’s was honed to a point. If you asked him about something he knew, he’d be able to recall it with picture-perfect accuracy. That didn’t mean he had the words to give you an answer, though. He always held so much in his brain, too much to express verbally.
He didn’t speak a lot, but that only made what he said more precious. Like distilled information, condensed into the essential. A lifetime ago, after sneaking out, they’d lie face-up in their hangout spot and talk until both their throats were sore—Kel’s from overuse, Sunny’s from disuse. Kel would ramble about anything then bug Sunny and bug him again, not stopping until the boy relented and graced him with various stories. His soft voice, usually covered by stray noise, seemed to fill the empty space the night had an abundance of.
He loved hearing him talk about the stars most. With languid movements, Sunny'd stretch his arm, unfurl one finger to point at the sky, and out of his mouth would tumble various names until he grew too tired. Kel failed to learn most of them, the amount made his head spin, but one remained firmly lodged in his mind.
“That’s the North Star,” Sunny had said thousands of nights ago, the brightest point in the sky underscored by his nail.
“Really bright,” Kel smartly pointed out.
Sunny nodded, a rustle in the grass. “’s how travelers guide themselves."
“The only star that doesn’t move."
Right now, Kel feels lost. A whole day was filled with being led through thickets of abandoned buildings, parks, people, and then just like that it's ended. He's alone in a bus, Sunny and his guiding hand away and long gone. Though...
Sunny lives right at the fringes of the city, a walk away from the bus station, so Kel can’t help but turn to look for him through the rear window.
The city shines behind him, hundreds of windows lit and gradually shrinking as the bus goes further and further away. The sky spans an endless gray above, the haze of the light pollution swallowing all of the stars. Nothing familiar left up there.
Kel’s eyes trace a specific tall building, all concrete and plaster, right up to the fourth floor. As if on cue, the brightness of an economic lightbulb tears through the darkness of the apartment.
A smile tugs at his lips.
If Kel’s only astral guide is gone, then Sunny might as well be his new one. His very own North Star.