Departure Toward An End

Claire climbed the ladder, its steel a bitter shrill which clenched her gums together in shock. Once out of the dank cover, she clawed her way to her feet rubbing either shoulder for warmth. In the garage she surveyed around searching for Kage, yet he had stomped off from the location. 

Unsettled, she went into the living room discovering no sign of the boy either. From there a cursory look into the bedroom where he once rested turned up nothing as well. 

'Did he run?'

Worries run amuck, Claire checked the door, peering cautiously into the drenched night for the silhouette of another. Yet, as she stuck her head outside of the door's frame, a call followed her from inside of the house. 

"What are you doing?" Suddenly, she snapped back, twisting her head to gaze at the person who hadn't dared to leave her behind. An open light source from the bathroom was all that was needed as an explanation. In her haste she forgot of the facility as well as its purpose. Kage stood in the frame dressed in a sole towel while droplets of water dusted off him. A startling sneer painted across his craning smile.

Claire just readjusted her bangs ensuring not to let on to the embarrassed sigh which stretched her lungs. Such a slight depression transformed Kage's sneer into a knowing perk to the creases of his mouth. 

Without another word, Kage passed by her into the bedroom. He rummaged inside for a few moments, overturning dressers then shoe boxes looking for adequate clothing all the while clinging to the robe which covered his lower half. Claire flatley placed her back to the doorway growing more pink by the second as grunts mixed together by soft curses exited the room. After several minutes of the similar cycle searching, Kage released a mighty sigh alerting the girl to his completion. 

Her hands caught on the door's frame, gazing into the bedroom where Kage sat burning a melting pool into the floor with his stare. The clothes he wore were oversized and stolen from Arthur's dresser, a dusty cramped thing that mixed women's and men's clothes together with no discrimination. The mess found usage in being given to those without fitting rags once their surgery was complete. In their amassing grasp, Kage presumed them to be costly gifts due to their unused nature as well as inflated price in recent years. 

The shirt barely fit with its many missing buttons allowing for the crumpled cyan garment to be buttoned only to his pectorals. A sight which lusted the girl into a fever of sorts. Further down the chosen cargo pants were black as midnight with vibrant streaks of purple streaking down either pant leg. They too were loose on the boy's figure forcing him to overturn the room multiple times, the source of such curses, in order to find a belt to strap it together. Lastly, were a pair of tennis shoes decorated with a variety of stickers, both of cartoon characters as well as mythical creatures. It so happened to be the only article which fit his body well. 

She entered through the wooden frame, standing beside his almost crumpled hump. There were unseen gears that could not be discerned. Claire thought back on their time together knowing that she could never predict the purpose of his expressions. Kage remained the being that tied them together but unable to be analyzed. An inner self stayed solidified as well as defended so that none could penetrate. 

Such a living warranted a prick of departure from emotions. An action Kage willed into existence as although a deep anger still brewed in his heart, yet uncoupled by a lack of a chiding speech following his inaction. His decision to spare those he viewed as below sin resonated to his core as a fault to himself. There was no reason to forgive them, or at least one that he comprehended. Despite this understanding, Kage still had done so, thus separating ties of logic from each other. All of which supported his forlong conclusion of his fundamental departure to connect with humans. Since he was aware, he couldn't be bothered by the intricacies of people. All that mattered was himself then those he cherished, another act he could not conceive the fundamentals toward. 

Claire motivated her body to sit on the very material as him. Rather, that wasn't motivated but simply instinctual as no other movement predicted her passing words. 

From her pocket a package arrived in a white flimsy container composed of cardboard. The soft and skinny fingers flipped the lid open jutting a single stick from its holder. She picked it out between her index and thumb displaying the source of relief Kage desperately desired. 

He had not the energy to provoke its acquisition as Claire laid it into his open palm. The stare now fell on the cigarette wishing for it to burn in spectacular fashion only to eat away this figment of reality his body possessed. Yet, the only flame which showed was one from the accompanying lighter Claire stuffed under the item. Successfully lighting the cigarette, Kage made no mention other than to suck on its butt. It was a fruitful inhale of smoke which birthed an equal pronunciation in its expulsion that wafted through the air suffocating their sinuses. 

"Kage…" Claire pushed her hand into the now empty palm. Their eyes met with the only smile present on that of the girl's. The flat blankness of the boy's met hers. 

'There may never be a smile on him again.'

"Let's go." 

Kage, without hesitation, dropped the lit cigarette to the carpet snuffing its life with the heel of his boot. 

Claire watched the cigarette explode into a mix of tobacco and paper. Dead. Light beckoned away from her trodden expression. "Yes." 

The two stood from their comfort then exited the house hand-in-hand. Kage gazed into the distance as if he could see something in the haze left by the acidic storm. Another expression that Claire did not know. 

Their task, thought to be quick, was instead abruptly halted as the jilted curvature to another sat against the wood of the home, watching the beat of rain long quieted. Isaiah acknowledged them with little more than a blink of his eyes. The insides of his sockets blackened by the tiredness forced on by the night. That was at least the story Kage told himself as no amount of agony could be the cause.

Isaiah tilted his head to ask, "Daniel?" 

Kage grunted. 

Their friend cracked his knuckles settling into the back of their formation. However, a longing stare persisted, piercing the archway of Arthur's door. Isaiah continued looking there as if something, or someone, was there all along serving to guide them as a vessel beyond recognition. 

No time would grant them for calm to be instilled. A journey was almost complete for their departure to be made.