Hatsukoi tore off his garment. The wet fabric that made up the pathetic excuse for pants made his skin unbearably itchy. They hadn't even finished drying.

The exchange went far better than he ever could have hoped for, despite her coming at the worst possible moment. Still, Tara's last question left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Why do you look like this?"

He was fairly certain she meant no harm, but her words served as a grim reminder: he didn't belong here. Where did he belong? Hatsukoi had asked himself this ever since he carried Tara out of that cursed crater.

As he approached the encampment lying a short distance from the crater, he caught a glimpse of Tara's family. Seeing as he was essentially responsible for her suffering, Hatsukoi choose to remain at arm's length.

But even as the outcast wandered the unfamiliar landscape, he only encountered communities of the blond haired, blue eyed people. At times he would be spotted, only to be shooed away. They looked at him with utmost contempt as though he were a lowly bug that feed off of what little food they had left.

For three months he remained isolated, his mind reduced to shambles. He retained pieces of memories from another world, but not another life. Rain; water falling from clouds high in the sky. I feel as though I've experienced it all before.

The faces of those he presumably once knew and the things that made him feel any sort of emotion were all a blur. Even more elusive was the reason he had ended up in this strange world, stripped of all that made him whole.

"No berries? Then what were you doing all this time?"

Hatsukoi turned his head in the direction of the distraught voice. A little girl who looked to be a miniature version of Tara was having a tantrum. Could that be the other one? The person he had met today was not the only one who witnessed his landing; there was also another.

Perhaps I ought to introduce myself sometime.

~

Tara was running out of excuses to return to the forest. At first, she told the others that she'd be continuing her search for the berry tree. By the third time, they were overtly skeptical.

"You sure you're not hiding a boy in there, Tara?" cousin Janson joked. Her parents did not look as amused.

She managed to escape their thoughtless words this time. But was she pushing her luck?

"You know, maybe it's time you show yourself," Tara called out, knowing that no one else could hear them this deep into the forest.

A giggle sounded from the branches above, followed by the snaps of twigs caught in Hatsukoi's descent. "And here I am."

The boy smirked upon landing. This time he wore a rugged sleeveless shirt to match his equally as tattered shorts.

"No," Tara said sternly, "I mean to the others at the camp."

"Oh, you mean your family?"

"Who else? And would you stop appearing out of nowhere?"

Hatsukoi rested his hands on his hips. "Gosh, you sure are making a lot of demands today."

Tara didn't reply. Hatsukoi's expression - pursed lips and furrowed brows - said it all.

Why am I always pushing people away?

"It's fine," he piped up, snapping her out of her sorry state, "I guess I've always had a knack for hopping between trees. I'll..." He hesitated for a moment. "...stop if it startles you."

He had read her like an open book. "I-I'd appreciate that," she uttered with a quivering voice, "But you don't have to."

The two stared at the ground in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"So, shall we pick up where we left off two days ago?" Hatsukoi said, to which Tara nodded. He took a seat at the base of the nearest tree and patted the ground next to him, signaling her to join.

To Tara, time had always passed too quickly during their conversations. While she didn't believe half the things the boy said about his "world", it was refreshing to let her imagination run wild.

But it was at this point that she realized she only ever asked about his world, but not himself. Hatsukoi never told me why he looked the way he does.

"Remember that question I asked you the first time we met?"

"The one where you asked why I look like 'this'?" Hatsukoi responded, gesturing a hand around his face. Tara could see a hint of annoyance behind his otherwise neutral expression. "Do you want to be indulged?"

"If it's not too much to ask."

Hatsukoi sighed, closing his eyes briefly. As they opened, Tara couldn't help but notice how warm they looked in the sunlight. Nothing like hers or her family members, which resembled the dead of winter.

"It's not. I guess it's just a question that can't be answered so easily." He paused. "I can't remember their faces, by which I mean my friends'. But I do remember that all of our ancestors came from faraway lands."

Tara rested her chin on her knuckles.

"We all looked a little different from one another. Some more than others. Different skin color, different hair, different cultures."

"Cultures?" Tara asked.

"Oh right, I guess that's not something you're familiar with," Hatsukoi said before chuckling, "People had different beliefs and customs based on the environment and circumstances their ancestors grew up in."

Hatsukoi seemed distracted for a moment. "Please, go on," Tara prodded.

"Say, tell me about something your family believes in. Something that you've never actually seen for yourself."

"I-" Tara was mystified; such thoughts had never even crossed her mind before. "I need to think about that."

The tan skinned boy chuckled again. "Of course. And if you want my opinion, I believe there's people like me walking around out there somewhere."

Tara began imagining all sorts of people even more unusual than Hatsukoi. The thought of possibly meeting them someday suddenly sparked newfound excitement within her. "That's amazing, Suki!"

"Suki?" he replied, somewhat confused at impromptu nickname.

"You don't like it? I think it suits you."

"Well, I guess it's a nice change of pace." The corners of Hatsukoi's lips curled upward ever so slightly. For the first time since she was a little girl, Tara felt a sense of joy.