Looking Glass Logic

Disclaimer: Kishimoto Masashi owns Naruto Shippuuden.

Cover image belongs to 凯茵的部屋 on pixiv (ID: 2658736)

The clouds look like streamers made of cotton candy as I unleash a ribbon of bubbles into them. Senpai stands beside me, reading one of those periodicals that I've never been very fond of. He ignores my constant huffs, ignores me in silence, yet I'm sure that when I shuffle he takes notice and my presence has taken a little corner of alertness in his soul. Like a warmth that can't actually be felt, but lingers like a ghost, subtle like cotton candy streamer-clouds.

I dig my boot into waterlogged grass and soil. So hideous– the grass has become so hideous this year. Brown and thin and wrinkled like a used match. Truly, beauty only lasts a short time.

I blow another string of foamy, orbital looking glasses before I glance at him and ask, "Sasori-no-danna." That's what I call him. It was originally a joke in my freshman year, but it stuck and bloomed into something more than a joke. I've actually grown to respect him, for he's one of the most brilliant artists I've ever known.

"Sasori-no-danna," I repeat, not because he didn't hear me, but simply because I want to say it again. To digest it this time.

His eyes turn to me first, then his whole head swivels in my direction– not angry that I pulled him away from his reading. "What is it?"

"What's life?

His expression doesn't change. Instead, his cinnamon eyes capture my gaze. He glances down at the grass as I dunk my wand into the bottle of soap-foam and blow again. Without a word he turns back to his periodical. I take this as my cue to wait a moment. I take in the silence in the hanging spaces of time.

Sasori-no-danna tries to avoid my gaze as he slicks his finger with saliva and turns the page.

"What's life? I don't know; it's for you to call. It's either that dying grass or those bubbles you're blowing."