For someone who had claimed to suffer as long as Han had, this was the first 'funeral' he had ever been to. It occurred to him that he'd made a closer friend in those few hours he had spent with Chul than he'd made all his life as a normal boy in Korea.
He wondered then; was he to make even more friends now that he was... abnormal? Was that the way of the world?
'What am I on about? Friends? Since when did I want friends?'
How easily humans lie, ever ready to protect themselves in the delusions of their minds. Still, in Han's heart of hearts, he could already feel the chill of loneliness creeping in.
Today, he could lie and say he did not need comrades. But what of tomorrow, and the day after that? What of the time when he would shed all semblance of his humanity and be left a human mind trapped in the shell of a bee? Alone, at the top of the tower, as Beelaques had mentioned. Would he say he needed no friends then?
