"Haha…" The sounds of laughter and the heavy panting from their run merged into a single, breathless chord.
Surjo and Tara now stood before a dilapidated building. Before them was a red emergency exit ladder, the kind typically used for escaping during fires. This ladder was Surjo's primary route to reach his sanctuary on the roof.
Due to the childish instincts still lingering in a corner of his mind, the thought of going through the building's interior was as terrifying as facing a reaper. He imagined that restless spirits or ghosts might be lying in wait within those dark corridors. However, there was a compelling reason for his choosing to live on the very roof of this building—a necessity that had forced him to build his nest at this secluded height.
"Now, we just have to go up," Surjo said, pointing upward. Then he took another glance at the iron stairs outside.
Surjo took the bun from his hand and tucked it into his back pocket. Half of the bun peeked out, as if observing the world outside. After stashing it, he turned to Tara. "Alright, you stay right behind me. And make sure the bread doesn't fall out!"
Tara stared at Surjo blankly. A moment later, she understood and gave a mechanical nod. However, she could no longer suppress the curiosity within her. Breaking the silence, she whispered, "Do you always... eat by stealing like this?"
Surjo didn't quite seem to grasp the question. He scratched his head with one hand and asked back in surprise, "What do you mean, eat by stealing?"
"I meant—the way you snatched the bun from that man's hand and ran!"
Finally, the realization clicked in Surjo's head. He snapped his fingers loudly with both hands and exclaimed, "Oh! Now I understand what you're saying." Then, placing a finger at the corner of his lip, he sank into deep thought for a while. He struck a pose as if he were the world's most profound philosopher. "So, that's called 'stealing'? Well, I learned something new today. Thank you!"
Having said that, he began to climb the red ladder nimbly. Not only did Tara not get the answer she expected, but her mouth hung open in amazement. Witnessing Surjo's strange logic and innocence, her pupils dilated. As Surjo climbed each rung of the ladder, Tara's head tilted further and further back to watch him.
As soon as Surjo realized Tara hadn't started climbing yet, he pulled one hand off the handle. He leaned his body back and to the right so he could look down at Tara while hanging there. Gripping the ladder with one hand, he asked, "What's the matter?" Then, making his voice slightly grave, he added, "Is your plan to stand there all night?"
Tara's trance shattered instantly. She quickly looked around—there was nothing to see but dense darkness. She brought both hands to her chest, balling them into fists as if gathering her courage. "I'm coming!"
She approached the ladder, gripped the metallic handles firmly, and began to climb after Surjo. Together, they navigated the rungs one by one. One step, two steps, three steps... But Tara's gaze repeatedly locked onto the bun behind Surjo. The bread seemed to peek from the pocket to watch Tara, and she stared back at it intently.
The bread was still perfectly in place.
After passing the first floor's rungs, they reached a small landing. From there, they had to take the stairs to the second floor. They would have to climb four such flights in total. All in all, the building was a small five-story structure.
Before arriving here, they had walked a long distance, then run with all their might, and then climbed a bit of an incline. The building was located quite a bit higher than the flat ground—it took at least seven to ten minutes to walk up. After such exertion, Tara's legs felt like they could move no more; though she was exhausted within, she showed no outward sign. Surjo, on the other hand, was still brimming with his usual inexhaustible vitality.
Stepping onto the landing, Surjo turned back toward Tara. Assessing her for a moment, he said, "You look quite tired."
"No, I'm perfectly fine," Tara replied without a second's delay. It seemed that in Surjo's company, her hesitation had largely dissipated.
"Oh, alright!" With that, Surjo looked upward and reassured her, "Not much further, we're almost there." He ran a hand over his back pocket to check if everything was in order. Realizing the bun was still safely in its place, he wasted no time. He practically leaped onto the steps of the second flight. Not in a calm mood, but with a vibrant restlessness, he cleared two or three steps in a single bound, stopping at the fourth rung.
Tara followed him. However, instead of Surjo's madness, she began stepping calmly from the very first rung. In this way, passing step after step, they moved from the second floor to the third, then the fourth, and finally arrived at the roof.
…
The roof wasn't very large, but a deathly silence seemed to have taken root there. It would be nearly impossible for an ordinary child to survive in this solitude, but Surjo had grown accustomed to it. Yet, it wasn't just habit; another compelling attraction forced him to stay here—and that was exactly what Surjo was about to show Tara…
In the middle of the roof was a square room; this was essentially the main head of the stairs coming up from inside the building. No lock hung from the door; it was clearly open. But Surjo always kept the door shut; he never used this path.
Though deep darkness surrounded them, the roof was strangely illuminated by moonlight. With the dominance of artificial light gone from the world, the moonlight now seemed much brighter than before. The sky was indeed a bit blurry with the smoke of war, but that smoke wasn't enough to completely stifle the moon's light.
A little distance from that stairwell was another small square room. It had two windows at its ends. Before the war, it might have been the room of a building employee, but now it was Surjo's sanctuary. What had eventually become of that employee? It was a profound mystery, the answer to which was so simple in this current world that it didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Surjo turned to Tara, "I want to show you something extraordinary…" Saying this, he grabbed her hand firmly. Tara started, but she did not resist.
Surjo practically pulled Tara toward his room. Pushing the door open and stepping inside revealed a neat, tiny room. Directly ahead was a window, and right beneath it was Surjo's bed. As for furniture, there was nothing but that bed. The room was a bit dusty, yes, but it couldn't be called unfit for living.
A room only becomes hideously filthy when heaps of unnecessary things accumulate; or if a beast in human clothing lives there who cares nothing for cleanliness—someone who defecates where they sleep.
Surjo's room had no such filth.
Perhaps Surjo didn't clean the dust regularly, so layers had settled in the corners. But without the clutter of extra items or piles of trash, the room remained quite habitable. It was tidy precisely because it lacked the debris of unnecessary furniture.
In this small four-cornered room, there were three windows in total—two on either side of the door and one beside the bed after entering. For an adult, this room would be perfect, provided they had no desire for royal luxury.
Surjo let go of Tara's hand. He took the desired bun from his pocket and held it out to Tara, who clutched it carefully with both hands.
Tara glanced at the bun and then immediately witnessed Surjo's strange behavior. He practically kicked his shoes off, sending them flying toward the sky, and leaped onto the bed. He yanked back the curtain covering the window and looked at Tara. In an excited voice, he called, "Come here quickly! Let me show you something amazing."
Tara stepped forward slowly. Instead of Surjo's wildness, she took off her shoes politely and sat on the bed. The bun was still held in the grip of both her hands. "Give the bread to me now," Surjo said, snatching it back from Tara. Then he pointed ahead, "Look at this! You'll like it."
As Tara looked out the window, a gust of wind struck her face. Her eyelids flickered shut from the force of the air. Opening them a few seconds later, she was confronted by a scene of exquisite beauty.
Not in the sky... but on the ground!
From the newly built market and the small shelters of people, the flickering lights of candles and lanterns peeked through. In the pitch-black darkness, those soft and sweet lights looked exactly like fireflies from a distance. In this world devoid of artificial splendor, if those lantern flames had flickered out and ignited again, it would have been impossible not to mistake them for true fireflies.
This was the first beauty of this broken world that had enchanted Surjo. This roof was the only place from which this scene could be enjoyed to its fullest.
Other buildings in the city might have been taller, but the view from there might not have been so clear; the lights might have seemed much more faint. To Surjo, the rush of the window's breeze and those firefly-like lantern lights truly felt heavenly.
This very scene would banish all the fear from his mind. And those gusts of night wind made him feel the existence of an invisible companion instead of loneliness.