You ended up dragging the crying boy to a bench in an isolated section of the nearby park. It was far too awkward to stand idly in front of him, smack in the middle of the streets, where bystanders are privy to the two of you. And it certainly didn't help that the boy looked terribly bruised and miserable while you stood there motionless, and free of most bodily harm, before him. You can only imagine what kind of image that would paint in the minds of passersby.

Now alone in the park, his cries simmered down to mere sniffles mixed with the occasional nasally grunts as he continued to use the tissues you offered him before. He took care to avoid your gaze though, likely embarrassed to have broken down in front of a stranger of all people. But then again, humans tend to be more adverse about sharing troubles with those closer to them.

He reluctantly reached up to grab another tissue, still avoiding eye contact, "T-thank you... and sorry..."

He clearly wasn't apologizing for using up your tissues but you could guess what he left out from his words.

"It's alright, I was the one that asked." You tried to quirk your lips up into a reassuring smile, the task proving more difficult than it should be. You don't ponder why.

He sneaked a glance up, checking if you were still looking and quickly turned back when confirming that yes, you were still looking pointedly at him.

He cleared his throat, "I, uhm..."

You tilt your head, urging him to continue.

"If... if there was a guy who lived his whole life meaninglessly..."

Sounds like the typical life decision crisis that's been hitting people in their teens. You'd know since you were dealing with it yourself just before your life changed in the blink of an eye. Quite literally.

"...And then he died but somehow went back in time, and figured out he could save the life of someone important to him..."

Nevermind, it seems that the story the boy's telling is quickly swerving out of your field of expertise.

"...But it turns out he was too overconfident in a world much bigger and stronger than he was... w-what should he do?"

The story he was describing sounded vaguely familiar to a manga you picked up a few weeks back, but you decided to play along.

"Well, what does he want to do?" You asked him back, a question for a question.

"Huh...?" The boy certainly wasn't expecting that, "He... wants to save that person."

You hummed in mock concentration, your words already formed in your head. It technically couldn't be considered plagiarism if you just repeated the lesson learnt in a story as an advice in reality.

"I say he should go for it. Protect the person that's important to him. After all, if we let ourselves be hindered by fear, we wouldn't get anywhere in life. Better yet, wasn't there a saying that people get stronger when they have something to protect?"

This time he was the one to stare at you, blinking owlishly at your words like you were speaking in a language foreign to him. Then he smiled, a glimmer, of hope perhaps, returning to his eyes.

"...Thank you!" He stood up from the bench and gave you a stiff bow, lowering his head but his back kept straight.

Losing the bravado that allowed you to sprout such corny advice, you stepped back at his formal behavior.

"Y-you're welcome...? But story aside, are you sure you're alright?"

He lifted his head to show a sheepish smile while he scratched his cheek.

"I am now."

____________________

In a world so unfamiliar, I found you.