Cairo stood before misshaped wrought-iron gates, his hand hesitating on the cool metal. The sharp chill of the air seemed to seep into his fingers, but it wasn't the cold that gave him pause. He stared at the gate, the weight of countless hesitations pressing down on him. He swallowed hard, his throat dry from the biting air. Closing his eyes, he pushed the gate open. The familiar creak echoed out into the silence, sharp and anticlimactic as he crossed to the other side.
...Nothing. He opened his eyes, seeing the same beaten path lined with freshly sprouting greenery, timid shoots clawing their way back to the surface to reclaim their space after a long winter. 'What did you think was going to happen?' he questioned himself for a moment, chipped leaves and twigs crunched faintly beneath his feet as he began his trek forward, it was exactly as he remembered it.
The cemetery stretched out in quiet monotony, rows of tombstones standing like mass-produced replicas, each gifted with patches of artificial grass masking the decrepit soil underneath. A single beaten path cut across the center of the graveyard, branching out into the many plots at its sides. At the path's end, a solitary willow tree loomed, its curved stump causing it to appear as if it was gazing wearily over the empty fields.
Cairo slowed his pace, his eyes falling on a modest tombstone nestled among its neighbors. The stone was unremarkable, the same rectangular patch of artificial grass adorned it as every grave around it. It was only the name engraved upon it which allowed him to tell it apart from the rest.
Jillian Verni
He pulled the plastic wrapped bouquet from his backpack, releasing vibrant colors that clashed with the muted tones of the cemetery. Without so much as a moment of hesitation, he plucked a single flower from the bunch before neatly placing the boquet at the base of the stone. He rose back up to see what change he had made. He didn't know how to feel when he realized he did not. For a long moment, he stared at the gravestone, his face unreadable. It wasn't right, the tombstone was for strangers --names and dates for people he'd never known.
As usual, the questions rose in his mind like smoke from a dying fire—some he couldn't answer, others he didn't want to. But they hardly mattered. Either way, she had abandoned him.
He didn't say anything. There was no point in saying anything to place so... empty. Turning away, he followed the winding path deeper into the cemetery, the weight in his chest shifting with every step. Eventually, he reached the tree—its tall, weathered form looming over the grounds. Its bare branches stretched out like skeletal fingers, casting long shadows on the ground.
Cairo stopped and looked up at the tree. The memories it held felt more tangible than anything else here. He crouched again, placing the single remaining flower at the base of the tree before settling down beside it. Leaning his back against the rough bark, he let out a sigh, closing his eyes briefly.
He tilted his head back, letting it rest against the tree. The bark pressed into his skull, its rough grooves biting through his coat, as if trying to devour the memories . It was always peaceful under the tree. Though it was an unfortunate coincidence that it happened to be in the middle of a cemetery. They'd act the part mourning orphans, he remembered. Of course, having differing skin tones meant they needed to employ a bit of creativity to weave a convincing story. Jillian had always been quicker on the draw, weaving absurd tales about a "serial adulterer" father who had left them to fend for themselves. Cairo was quite a bit certain they'd be sent to hell for the sheer amount of desecration they'd commited. Tarnishing the reputation of the poor, innocent deceased who they'd decided they'd come to mourn that day.
Though... "being orphans might have been better." He said aloud as a cool breeze swept across his face, pulling him back into the chill of the graveyard around him. He pulled his headphones over his ears, letting the faint hum of a familiar tune shield him from the ambience.
Yet the wind refused to stop. It swept through the bare branches of the tree above, rustling the leaves like faint whispers. The cold stung his cheeks, but the silence pressed harder --more difficult to bear. Then, faintly, he heard a voice. At first, it was just a prodding murmur, but it grew louder, clearer, until he couldn't ignore it. His expression contorted in annoyance as the voice finally echoed clearly in his head. "Hey, buddy, you alive under there? You didn't turn into a frozen corpse on me, did ya?"
Cairo opened his eyes, irritation etched on his face as he glared up at the source of his displeasure. A girl with bright blue eyes stared back at him, her hands clasped in mock concern. The moment their gazes met, she gasped dramatically and fell backward into the snow. "Oh my god! I totally thought you'd turned into a zombie just now. But that's just your face. Phew."
Cairo stared at her, unamused. "I think a zombie would die of malnutrition trying to eat you. Or it'd choke on your bones. Hard to say which would happen first."
"Wow, you're brutal." Jillian sat up, brushing snow off her jacket with an exaggerated pout. "But I'm sure a zombie would accept any fate if it could eat a looker like me," she shot back, her tone exuding far too much confidence.
Cairo frowned. "I really wonder whose sake you're arguing for right now."
Suddenly, the left muff of his headphones slipped out of place with an audible click, drawing a smug laugh from Jillian. "See? You look so scary even he's trying to run off." she quipped, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue, attempting to shove the piece back into its taped tube. "Please don't personify my headphones to pretend anyone is agreeing with you." Cairo added, still struggling with the plastic as Jillian leaned forward, her scarf shifting as she watched him.
"You should really just get new ones," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the purple fabric.
"Wow, you're turning on your new ally rather quick, aren't you?" Cairo replied, the frustration in his tone betraying the attempted humor of his words. "Besides, I can't." He added.
"I know," Jillian said with a smirk, "Maybe eventually, though. Like, whenever they find a cure for being clinically broke."
Cairo looked up at her with unamused eyes. Before he could retort, she snatched the headphones from his hands. "Here, let me try."
In a sequence far too quick for him to make out, Jillian unwound the tangled mess of tape, maneuvering her hands deftly as they moved with surprising finesse. Before he knew it, Jillian was sporting a smug grin as she tossed the headphones back to him.
Rather than being the crumpled disaster he expected, the tape was tied neatly, wrapped up diagonally around the headband perfectly taut. And, as if to mock him, she had even finished it by tying an unnecessary bow that sprung from its end.
"What can I say? I'm an artist," Cairo looked back up to see Jillian who held up her hands as though framing a masterpiece. Her expression gave the illusion that she was trying to play off a thousand compliments at once. All of which had yet to leave his mouth and exist in this reality.
"I don't know what's worse." he muttered. "That you've given my headphones bunny ears, or that you think you've won the nobel prize for doing it."
"I think your ungrateful attitude is the worst of all" Jillian quipped, stretching her arms overhead. "But I understand. It's hard to be grateful in the midst of all that jealousy. Not everyone can be a tape-wrapping, bow-tying, general genius-level problem-solver." She said with exaggerated satisfaction.
It was a ridiculous enough statement that Cairo had almost laughed. Almost. But then she winced, her arms dropped swiftly to her sides and now he'd noticed the way her face tensed as it happened.
"You good?" He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes had sharpened on her.
"Good? Of course, I'm fine. Don't try to deflect now that I'm exposing you~" Her response was too drawn out, a clear attempt to cloak her movement with her voice as she turned to adjust her scarf that began to slip from her shoulders. But the movement had pulled the fabric just enough to reveal the source of her discomfort--an ugly blotch of darkened skin that stretched across her shoulder, disappearing under the collar of her coat.
Cairo's stomach twisted. "Hey," he said more firmly. "What happened to your shoulder?"
Jillian froze mid-movement, like a rabbit caught in a snare. "Oh. That?" She voiced a brief, tight laugh, her fingers tugging the scarf back up her collar as if it would erase what he'd seen. "Nothing. Just... y'know, life being life."
It wasn't an answer. For a moment, Cairo thought about pressing her. About demanding an explanation. But he didn't. Maybe it was simply because of the way she had suddenly fell quiet, her arms crossed loosely like she was trying to hold herself together. She wasn't acting like herself. And so, he let it go.
"Thanks." Jillian muttered suddenly as they were making their way back towards the gates of the cemetery. Cairo simply looked back at her, unsure what she was talking about.
"For not digging." She replied, meeting his gaze with a look that was hard to read --grateful, maybe, or disappointed.
"Yeah... well, just returning the favor." He replied curtly, turning back to the long path ahead of them.
"Returning the favor?" She quizzed with what sounded like sincere puzzlement, before he turned to look at her again.
"Ohhhh! You mean like, because I never ask about why you live alone in that haunted manor looking house? Or that the school doesn't seem to give a shit that they've never seen your parents? What's up with that by the way?" She asked, her tone sporting copious ignorance.
"Oh, piss off." Cairo replied briefly, and Jillian laughed in response.
"Besides, the school would have to figure out that Flynn doesn't actually happen to have a dentist appointment the day of every departmental math exam before they catch onto me."
He added as Jillian laughed again. "Touché."
The hum of an engine filled the silence as Caroline and Annie sat parked along the cemetery's outer edge. Through the fogged windshield, Annie was able to see Cairo sitting slumped down against the old tree like he was trying to grow roots there, completely unaware of his audience.
Annie's stared blankly ahead; her chin propped up on her palm. "So… I'm guessing he's some kind of criminal necrophiliac?"
Caroline nearly choked on her coffee, spitting out a few drops onto her lap. "What?" she sputtered, whipping her head toward Annie.
"Well," Annie started, leaning back in her seat with a shrug. "Since it seems like you're a little hesitant to explain exactly what's is going on here, I guess you're still gathering evidence. And, I mean, look at him. That creep is just laying in the middle of a cemetery like it's his bedroom. The signs are all there. I'm ready to call the police the second we have enough dirt on the sicko. It's my civic duty, really."
Caroline groaned, smacking Annie over the head with a swift swing of her arm. "He's not a necrophiliac."
"Ouch!" Annie winced, holding her head in pain as she retorted. "How do you know? You don't know what's in his head. Nobody does."
"Annie," Caroline snapped, turning toward her niece with a sharp glare, "I know because he's visiting Jillian's grave."
Annie blinked. "...Jillian?" she repeated. Her sharp tone softened slightly, though her posture remained stubbornly casual.
"Yeah," Caroline said, her voice quieter now. She leaned back in the driver's seat, her eyes shifting to the boy in the distance. "She was his friend. And… one of my students. She passed two years ago."
For once, Annie didn't immediately fire off a joke. She crossed her arms, frowning slightly as she turned to look at Cairo again. "Okay, that's... sad. I'm sorry. But that still doesn't explain why we're sitting here like creepy stalkers watching him mourn."
"Because," Caroline said firmly, "he needs something else to worry about. He spends too much time in his head. It's not good for him."
"Okay…?" Annie replied, raising an eyebrow. "And you want to do… what exactly? Come up with some elaborate 'Make Him Happy' scheme? Pretty sure you can't just fix people without their permission."
Caroline shot her a side-eyed glance. "I couldn't care less about the ethics of doing nothing for him instead," she said bluntly. "He needs help, Annie."
Annie snorted, shaking her head. "What about you then? If she was your student too, it's not like he's the only one who lost someone. Unless she was like his girlfriend or something."
"Pshh, I wish." Caroline scoffed, brushing the thought aside with a wave of her hand. Her gaze softened as it returned to Cairo. "Jillian was the only person who could get through to him, but there wasn't anything between them—they were more like siblings. Even then, it took me months of forcing them together before he finally let his walls down."
She hesitated, her expression suddenly turning fiercer before continuing. "Before Jillian, it was like he was living in a completely different world. He wasn't shy, not awkward—just… disconnected. He could charm the hell out of anyone if he wanted to, trust me. But it was like he didn't even notice people existed, and he made damn sure that they didn't notice him either. Like he was a ghost walking right through them. And his eyes..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "They were so empty. Like he wasn't really there, even when he was standing right in front of you."
Annie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Okay…" She said dryly, unsure of how to deal with the sullen-faced woman beside her. "So, he's always been a weirdo. Big whoop. Why are you telling me all this?" She finally said, her expression communicating both confusion and suspicion as she did so.
"When Jillian was around, he wasn't like that anymore. He wasn't—" she hesitated, searching for the right word. "He wasn't stuck. And I want to pull him out again." She said finally, turning to look at Annie with expectant eyes.
Annie rolled her eyes. "Are you serious? So, what, you want me to be the new Jillian or something? That's weird as hell Aunt Caroline. And aren't you just using me at that point? I'm not gonna be friends with someone like him out of pity!"
"It's not pity," Caroline insisted. "It's just trying it out. If it doesn't work out--it doesn't work out. It's not exactly like you're drowning in friends either, Annie."
Annie stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Clearly Caroline's words had hit a weak spot. "Tch. Whatever," she muttered, turning her head toward the window to avoid Caroline's gaze.
Satisfied, Caroline continued. "Besides, I'm not asking you to fake being his friend. I'm just asking you to try. That's it. Be normal. Be yourself."
"Be myself?" Annie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What does that even mean? You're acting like this is some kind of afterschool special when you're trying to 'Truman Show' your precious student you care so much about."
Caroline brought a hand to her chin, her eyes narrowing contemplatively. "Hmm… that's not a bad idea."
"Oh my god," Annie groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "You're insane. Genuinely insane."
"Stop being dramatic," Caroline shot back.
"And you're creepy too!" Annie accused, jabbing a finger in her direction. "What, did you adopt him or something? Why're you talking about him like he's your son? It's so weird, Aunt Caroline. He's your student. Ever heard of boundaries?"
Caroline shrugged, entirely unfazed by Annie's accusation. "I care about him. He's a good kid."
Annie leaned back, pleading with an exaggerated shudder. "Ew, stop. Please, this is gross."
Before Caroline could respond, her eyes suddenly widened. She reached for the gear shift, her movements frantic.
"What-" Annie started, but the car lurched backward before she could continue. She yelped, her knees driving into the glove compartment as Caroline spun the wheel, reversing sharply and turning the car behind a large tree.
"Holy shit! Are you trying to kill us?" Annie yelled, gripping the armrest with both hands like her life depended on it.
"Shh!" Caroline hissed, turning the keys to silence the car's engine before slapping a hand over Annie's mouth. She nodded toward the window, her gaze locked on Cairo, who was walking toward the cemetery gates, completely oblivious to their presence.
When Cairo finally disappeared down the street, Caroline let out a relieved sigh, pulling her hand away from Annie's mouth. Annie stared at her in disbelief.
"You're actually insane," she repeated flatly. "And I mean that in the medical diagnosis kind of way."
Caroline was unbothered as she started the car again. "You'll thank me later."
"For what? Whiplash?"
"For helping you finally make a friend," Caroline said, her grin widening as she pulled back onto the road.
Annie groaned, slumping in her seat. "Asshole."