Whenever I feel like things are settling. Something simmers up and I end up being pulled in. I am not sure what exactly is this but, regardless, I couldn’t help it. History books have always pulled me in. The acknowledgment that even though these scenes happened. At the same time they didn’t.

  How can we trust this version of history when there could be so many variations of the same story? When can one say it is a definite truth?

  Even when we have proof - texts, pictures, stories, videos, broadcasted live events. Every detail is seen from this certain position. The camera moves its way around to give a point of view. An angle that this comes out of a human created camera. This video making machine observes and records into our home TV’s and smaller, maybe larger, different gadgets replay it as many times as one likes. Made to be perceived in this way. Filmed to be seen just like it. And declared it’s the truth.

  The masses here sit down with their families, friends, co-workers or whoever is around. They watch it. Observe and believe it because they have seen it themselves with their own eyes.

  The power of perception moves it forward. Everyone repeating the same words of the event to a friend. Printing it out for the world in a newspaper. Same stories. Different publicists. Every event should sound intriguing to buy the better written story. With more detailed descriptions. With a better cover story. Later those same words are read and listened to and reused in more broadcasts. The point of looking at each human who has their own perception of how they see the world around them. A point of view.

  The feelings and interests of the community and the state. If we think about it. This event may have never even happened at all. It could have been a totally fabricated live story. Maybe, those people who said they witnessed it in real life were told to say they did. The publicists and magazines were paid to print that story.

  The message is to follow the trail of the words.

  For some this may even be a core memory because of the feelings of looking at it. Feelings of hearing about it resonated. Chain reactions of feelings like chemical spills moved and spread all across. A tale of a story we now need to label as history because of how many people remember it now. A historic fact.

  Sano always reminded me to think of this every time I read a history book, nevertheless this was the same. I like reading them but I never take them at face value. Even with all this doubt in my mind. I couldn’t help but pursue it. It was fun reading about it. Especially if someone who’s sitting across from me is somewhat involved in it.

  “Shin!” I looked up from my book at the guy sitting across from me.

  “Mhh?” His deep blue eyes shifted away from his laptop screen.

  “These two scenes don't make sense.”I pushed my book towards him.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  He glanced at the book. Not even reading what my finger was pointing at he looked right back at me.

  “I am sure reading that is not what you should be doing.” He said, eying the small pile next to me.

  I had books stacked next to me to prepare for math class. There’s also physics reading waiting in there, some materials for other classes and the reading pad from my development class that Athena lent me. My eyes only glanced at the books which for most I've already looked through some time ago. Memory carved the words from each inside my mind. Reading the same book again felt boring for me but there was a reason they were stacked there. The homework I was supposed to do. The reason was that.

  “I got bored.” Taking my eyes off the pile I said.

  I was invested in this history book I was reading and it mentions some ancestors of Shin’s family. Well, not necessarily ancestors but something that happened over twenty years ago.

  “Tell me! What happened?” I bugged him. Interrupting his work he did on the open laptop in front of him.

  Shin’s eyes switched back to his laptop screen. In an attempt to ignore my question.

  I poked him multiple times.

  “A home got burned down.” He forced his response. Giving me the details I already read through. No more. His face was serious, trying to focus on whatever was in front of his screen.

  I couldn’t help but tug on his sleeve. That answer he gave did not satisfy me at all.

  “Was it done by your father?” I shamelessly asked the question.

  Shin looked up. Staring at me emotionless, his lip shut and pursed.

  “Did he really?” I took his silence as yes. Surprised and intrigued, I pursued this. My eyes wide, catching the glimpse of annoyance of his.

  “Rory!” Shin caught my hand that was still tugging his sleeve. The firm touch around my forearm and warning tone echoed by calling out my name.

  I smiled brightly at him exposing my teeth. Unnecessary taunting him.

  “Shinichi!”

  He only let out a long sigh. Seeing that there’s no stopping my curiosity.

  “He did it, but I don’t know the reason or the details!” He gave me a serious answer. Tone tired of speaking about it. Maybe he had these questions previously asked or this was a touchy subject.

  I sensed it was both.

  Shin looked into my eyes with a tired expression. Extended his long arm to take the book I was reading out of my hands, and pulled away toward his side of the table.

  “Hey!” I called out.

  Though I let him take the book away. To mend his emotions. I jumped and pretended to take it back. Playfully playing along by being playful and attentive to his feelings at the same time pushing them.

  In the end I sat back down. Giving up on the attempt to take the book back.

  “I haven’t finished reading that!” I stretched my hand one more time to wait for him to give it back.

  “Let’s go!” Shin ignored me.

  Instead he closed his laptop, taking it together with the book and putting it inside his bag. I watched him collect the rest of his things.

  He was supposed to work on his project that ends pretty soon. I wasn't sure if this was a right idea but didn’t want to protest or ask about it.

  “Where?”

  “You don't seem like you want to study. So let’s go!” He hung his head. Placed his bag over the shoulder and looked at me waiting.