The sunset shone and reflected in the crystals of freshly-fallen raindrops, making them seem like diamonds embedded among the vast greenery. Under the hues of the fiery orange, in the endless plains, a lone hut stood upright against everything.

It was made of wood and straw. If one peeked through the translucent veils into the hut, one could see a boy sitting in a plain room with his flute. The melodies whispered sweet stories that reflected the wistfulness of a little lost girl into the wind.

To say that this boy was a "boy" would be an understatement, for even though he had the face and build of a teenager, his actual age was twenty-four. This youth lived in his hut alone, away from the world. He knew nothing of the ugliness of twisted desires in the city. In the morning when the sun shone with a piercingly new hope, he awoke. Sometimes he would drive to town to obtain certain basic provisions such as food. Other times, he would fetch water from the well and bathe in a tiny barn which sat a few metres away from the hut.

After morning had flown by, he would return to his place and prepare a simple meal. When he was done with these daily essentials, this youth would settle in his room, and with the greyish lead of his pencils, he would fill white paper with his skilled strokes.

As days passed, more and more pieces of paper began to be transformed into pieces of brilliant art, and he would bring some of his works to town. These he sold, while the rest was kept inside his room.

He called himself "Hyde". His eyes were almond-shaped, and his pupils so dark that they reflected the pitch black night no matter what time it was. The birds shunned him in the country, as every human being avoided him in town. None of them could comprehend the beauty of his feminine chiselled face, or the tinge of darkness in his alluring aura; they were intimidated by this strange loveliness that they had never been used to.

One day, as the notes of the flute gently danced in the wind, a little sparrow flew in and perched onto the window. As soon as Hyde had realised it, the wistful music broke into a piercing silence. He swiped at the bird with the flute, but it escaped with a flutter of feathers.

"Go away!" He yelled. Everyone dodged him; he deserved no companions.

However, as if sensing a certain melancholy in that voice which even its owner knew nothing of, the sparrow flew onto his sketching stand. It gazed at him with soulful eyes.

For the first time, tears rolled down his cheeks; his tear tracks glimmered in the sunlight.

As he cried, the sparrow chirped comfortingly. That endearing sound warmed and coloured his cold bleak heart.

The sparrow never left the hut since that day, and it watched as he went through his routines, from morning till night. When he fell asleep, the sparrow would cuddle up beside him on his pillow.

In the depths of night, they shared the same dream. It was a dream filled with an endless sunrise where the horizon stretched on endlessly. Both of them were engaged in a flight that they endured wordlessly in a silent companionship. In that dream, Hyde knew that he was going to fly on forever until they had flown through horizons of different scenes. Perhaps they were searching for a faraway utopia.

He knew that until the goal of soaring above everything had been reached, that flight would never end.

On a warm balmy night, Hyde was unable to sleep. He played his flute throughout the night, and as dawn approached, an image had wormed its way into his mind. It grew inside him until it seemed as if it was going to burst out anytime. He could not bear it, and finally with a flourish of his pencil, he began to draw.

All this while, the sparrow observed each detail sketched by a single stroke. When night began to flood the earth with darkness again, Hyde, having not slept for an entire night and day, was overwhelmed by fatigue. He fell asleep onto his own artwork.

The little sparrow, which had been perched on the stand all along, chirped as if to confirm Hyde's consciousness. Then, slowly, it began to be enveloped in a halo of white light. Its physical form ceased, and suddenly it burst into billions of shining speckles. These little orbs of pure light gathered like thousands of fireflies until a humanoid shape was formed. Slender limbs wrapped around Hyde's frail body as he was lifted upwards, to be set down again on his own bed. Then, red strands of hair spilled over Hyde's chest as the figure rested its head against it.

Hyde knew nothing of it all these while, as the night began to grow and fade away.

When he woke up, all he saw was the usual sparrow, and it continued like this for days.

Until one night, Hyde saw himself separated from that sparrow in the dream. The sparrow fell in a spiral towards the ground, while a voice echoed in his mind for the first time.

"Wider horizons are within reach, if we will just stretch our hands out……"

"….if we persist…."

—Hyde awoke with a jolt, tears overflowing from his eyes in accompaniment to the pain that clutched his chest with an iron claw. When his vision cleared, he realised that a redhead with hair as fiery as foxfire was lying on top of him. Immediately he knew what it was, and he embraced that figure. He knew that this was what he had always been waiting for.

"Never leave me…" He whispered.

That person lifted his head. A boyish yet delicate face sprang into view, while eyes that were brighter than the morning sun met his. This beauty brought reminiscence of autumn, and as he smiled, those eyes twinkled kindly. The voice that sounded was the same as that of the dream; it brought about a heavy nostalgia. "I… have to."

With that proclamation, Hyde's world shattered. His grip tightened on the redhead's shoulders and he pushed him down onto the white mattress. With sad eyes he gazed at that beautiful face.

"Even if you have to, I never want to let go…"

The white gown which shimmered in the moonlight was slowly unwrapped from the sparrow's slender body. Kisses rained onto that pale skin, while moans escaped from those ruby lips.

All this while, in that holy violation, tears flooded the night.

Teardrops continued to fall, even as they lay intertwined, until the dawn's footsteps approached. It was then that the sparrow told him with a sad whisper, "I have to go now, Hyde…"

"No…"

"This is my home," He continued, "I'll never forget my home, as I will never forget you. But… I can't stay here forever, even if I want to. In my mind lies a greater world, a world where horizons are wider and stretch on forever. I want to be able to see the horizon of every scene. There's so much more in this world that I don't know of, and so much more to experience."

Knowing that he could never be the rope hindering that bird's flight, Hyde sighed resignedly, "Then… At least let me remember you by a name. I want to tell the world of your adventurous spirit and to convey it far and wide, to countless of civilisations that do not know of it."

"My name is Tetsu. It means 'philosophy'…." As the last word was spoken, before those lips have closed, the redhead began to transform. He became the sparrow with soulful eyes that Hyde first knew him as. And he flew away, leaving behind nothing but that shimmering white robe and a sea of endless memories.

Hyde was left alone once more. He wrapped the white robe around his own shoulders, as if it would shelter him from every breeze and storm. As his quivering hand once more picked up the pencil, he began to draw.

That darkness left his aura, leaving a hint of loneliness. The lovely flute's music never sounded again even in the brilliant sunset, and little birds dropped by every day to comfort this artist.

However, he never looked up from his work; he was engrossed too deeply in it. There was only one thing that filled his mind; Tetsu's dream and that sunrise. His pencil strokes continued night and day, never halting, even though gradually his hands began to tremble. With the last of his strength, the last of his life and his will, the character "Tetsu" was written onto the a corner of the finished art. His signature was slowly engraved below, and then his tired hands let go of that pencil. His heavy eyelids finally weighed shut, and he fell into an eternal rest.

In a faraway place, under the same sky, in the direction of sunset, a little sparrow continued on a flight by its own. For countless days and nights, it flew unendingly.

As it reached even higher and farther, the horizon continued to change and the sun continued to rise and set.

It continued like this.

Until one day, those tired wings could no longer lift against the howling storm, or against the scorching wind….

Those feathers whirled upwards with the wind, while that worn body fell in a downwards spiral.

All this while, the sky remained overhead, as horizons continued to stretch farther and farther ahead….

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