Of course, as the Sun was becoming a part of this new family, it also happened to be his birthday. They baked a cake and, unfortunately, Frank made a rather grave mistake of leaving the cake unattended.
In truth, at that moment Frank hadn't even viewed his action as a mistake. It was the process of preparing for what Frank referred to as "a normal birthday".
"Do not touch the cake", Frank pointed at the cake with a determined look in his eye.
Sun was sitting at the table, his hands folded in front of his chest, straight posture.
"I will not", he said.
Frank narrowed his eyes slightly. "That was too easy".
"You have given me an order. I acknowledged it".
"Order does not necessarily equal agreement".
"From the functional point of view, it does not matter".
"I can assure you, it absolutely does—" Frank let out a sigh, shook his head and continued, "Anyway… do not touch it. Ten minutes is all I need".
"Define 'touch'".
Frank closed his eyes briefly. "Sun…"
"I am trying to specify the parameters of the order".
"There should not be any kind of interaction with the cake which may change its state".
Sun regarded the cake.
It was rather small. Rounded—this time it definitely had to be intentional. Decorated with somewhat imperfect icing that implied much more work than skill. Unlit candles decorated the cake.
"I understand", Sun said.
Frank pointed at the boy. "I mean it".
Sun nodded once.
Frank went away.
—
The silence fell upon the house.
Sun remained seated for exactly twelve seconds.
Then he looked at the cake.
He observed the structure, composition and other features of it. Frank had made this cake himself—with no doubts about it.
"You are a significant object", Sun murmured.
The cake did not reply.
"That is expected".
Sun got up and approached the table.
Very carefully—not with disobedience, but as if he were conducting some sort of an experiment.
"I have been ordered not to interact with you", he went on as he circled the table. "However, one of the parameters of the order had not been properly specified".
Sun leaned a bit closer to the table.
"The interaction which does not involve touching can be defined as indirect interaction".
The cake did not answer.
Sun observed it for several moments more.
Then, with meticulous care, he picked up a fork.
"I will not interact with the cake directly", Sun said calmly.
The fork started to descend.
—
As Frank came back in, he had a lighter with him and a rather hopeful look on his face.
"Okay", he entered the kitchen. "Time to light candles…"
Frank stopped in the middle of his movement and looked at the cake.
Then at Sun.
Then back at the cake.
There was some part of it missing.
Not much.
Yet noticeable.
Frank blinked. "Sun…"
"Yes?"
"What happened to the cake?"
Sun followed his gaze as if he suddenly noticed something.
"It looks like a part of it is gone".
"Can you see that?"
"That is an accurate observation."
Frank put the lighter slowly. "Did you eat it?"
Sun met Frank's eyes.
"I have not touched the cake".
Frank stared at him.
"... You are serious".
"I have been ordered not to touch it. I obeyed".
Frank ran his fingers through his hair. "You used a fork!"
"Yes".
"Still, that counts!"
"You have not mentioned forks as parts of yourself".
Frank made a sound between laugh and annoyance. "Oh, I have definitely walked into this one".
Sun tilted his head a bit. "In case it matters, it is an acceptable method".
"Cake?", Frank looked puzzled.
"Yes".
"... Great", Frank murmured sarcastically, "glad the partially eaten cake passes your standards of acceptability".
Sun returned to his seat.
"I have kept the larger part untouched".
"Wow. How generously of you".
"You are welcome".
Frank pointed at Sun again, but there were no traces of anger this time—he seemed rather amused.
"The next time, I'll just lock it in a safe".
"It would introduce new variables".
"And I do not want them".
"That would be rather unreasonable".
"Sure", Frank smirked. "You've definitely earned that title".
—
Several minutes later the candles were lit.
Sun watched those flickering flames with the same concentration as earlier, yet somehow this time he was closer.
Almost part of it.
Or more accurately…
Exactly half of it.
"They are smaller than I anticipated", he said.
"Well, I did not try to burn our apartment".
Sun leaned a bit closer to the candles.
"Fires are still applied to food", he observed.
"It's a custom".
"Symbolism of which is rather unclear", Sun added.
Frank let out a breath. "Well, people just do it, Sun".
Sun leaned back.
"That is a rather poor reasoning".
Frank smiled faintly. "I know".
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just present.
Sun's eyes were observing those flames, yet his facial expression changed in some subtle manner.
For one second the kitchen ceased existing.
It turned into another place.
Another time.
—
Mary was standing near the window, arms folded, looking at him with the same mixture of patience and tiredness.
"You are overthinking it", she said.
"This statement is rather vague", Sun replied.
Eli chuckled from the table. "Kid, not everything is a system to break apart".
"All things are systems", Sun stated.
"Indeed, but some of them are simply... nice", Eli grinned.
Sun observed the candles this time as well.
Those fires.
Strange human custom to assign some sort of symbolism to them.
Mary sighed while Eli was smiling.
Neither of them had actually answered his questions.
—
The flash of the memory passed.
Sun opened his eyes.
Flickering flames were still in front of him.
Frank was watching him, his voice softer than before.
"You okay?", he asked.
Sun thought about it.
"I remember", he answered.
Frank did not interrupt.
"Once they tried to explain this to me", Sun continued. "Their attempt failed".
Frank let out a soft huff. "Seems like".
Sun regarded the candles again.
"No longer they are here".
This time his words lacked any sign of disappointment—they were purely factual.
Frank leaned back on the chair. "Yes".
Silence.
Then a little softer voice.
"But you still are".
Sun did not answer.
Instead, he moved closer to the candles.
"What is the next step?", he asked.
Frank smiled slightly. "Make a wish".
Sun's expression changed.
"A wish", he repeated.
"Yes".
"A desire, which is not expressed".
"Right".
"And then putting off the fire concludes the ritual".
"Precisely".
Sun observed those candles again.
Then Frank.
"Do you believe that it is effective?", he inquired.
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "Rather, I believe that it is significant".
"Not quite the same", Sun noted.
"No", Frank replied. "But that's enough".
Sun watched him.
Then quietly he inhaled.
And blew.
Flickering flames disappeared, leaving the thin trail of smoke rising up.
Sun watched this smoke fading.
"It is complete", he announced.
Frank nodded. "Yes".
Silence.
Then, a bit awkwardly, he added. "I... I hope you are happy, Sun".
Sun snorted.
Not loudly, nor harshly.
Just definitely.
Inside, Sun pondered about the fact of happiness. It definitely was not part of the life path that he had chosen. Still...
He hoped Frank was happy.
Frank watched him silently for a moment.
Then he picked up a fork from the table and cut a piece from the already deformed cake.
He slid it to Sun.
"Have your cake", Frank urged.
Sun stared at the cake, its uneven form, the deformed edge where he himself took a piece of it.
Then he picked up the fork.
Bit into the cake.
Thought.
"... It is acceptable", he declared.
Frank smiled.
For once, Sun did not wonder what was so important in that smile.