WHAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

It was noon in Ebony Sands. T & T Emporium was packed with locals and tourists alike. In the Able Sisters, Mabel was running herself ragged in taking care of all of the customers. A line stretched out of Shampoodle and down the steps next to the Able Sisters. Even Tom Nook had an unusually crowded shop.

But there was one shop that was not bustling. In fact, the shop was so deserted that anyone who had to pass it to get to the Ebony Sands Museum hurried across the empty space in front of the shop in question.

The lack of patronage was not unusual. This particular shop was rarely, if ever, visited by anyone from Ebony Sands, and the reputation of the shop had spread enough that tourists braved the prices in GracieGrace instead of setting foot in the establishment known simply as Kicks. And while Kicks boasted the largest selection of shoes and socks in Ebony Sands and the surrounding towns, that didn't change the fact that it was avoided.

Behind the glass of the storefront, behind the sign that declared Kicks to be open, behind the display pairs of loafers and slippers and high-tops, in the far corner of the shop was a stool. The leather seat covering of the stool was beginning to wear out. Kicks sat on the stool a lot more often than he used to.

Kicks the skunk was the proprietor, manager, and sole employee of Kicks.

Like his store, Kicks was empty. He was lonely. He couldn't quite remember the last time someone had set foot, hoof, or paw in his store. It could have been last Thursday or three months ago, or some time in between. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to live on something other than porridge.

Kicks put his head in his paws and sighed.

The afternoon summer sun was blazing overhead, but it couldn't quite deter the determined shoppers from errands that had to be done right away and not a second later. Air conditioning was a hot commodity, though, and Redd's ice cream cart did brisk business in all manner of cold products.

Kicks sat on the stool in the corner of his store, chin in his paws. He was staring at the door, willing someone- anyone- to come through and buy something. The air conditioning in his shop had been broken since last August, and he didn't have quite enough to pay Cyrus to fix it. Well, he actually could pay Cyrus, but then Kicks would have to go without heat during the winter. Winter in Ebony Sands was a terrifying affair, and burst pipes were not uncommon. No, Kicks preferred a few sweaty days to another 'Midwinter's Fest' incident.

Outside, a kangaroo paused in front of Kicks' shop. He sat up straighter, eyes wide. The kangaroo tilted her head to one side, considering, and then pushed the door open. Kicks hopped to his paws and greeted the kangaroo. "How are you, chum?"

The kangaroo laughed lightly. "It's bleeding hot out there, friend. Uh," she wheezed, fanning herself. "Do you have air conditioning?"

Kicks shook his head. "Naw."

For a moment, Kicks was scared that the kangaroo would desert the shop. But then she shrugged and started looking around. She picked up a pair of brown sandals and looked closely at them. "What size are these?"

She handed the sandals to Kicks when he held out a paw. He took them and mentally sized them. "Size 12 and a half." He handed them back to her. "Are you looking for a particular size?"

The kangaroo chuckled. "I have no idea! This is my first time shopping for shoes on my own. My mother has always been the one who knew what she was doing, but she's back home." She glanced at the shoes, and then back at Kicks. Her brow furrowed and smoothed out so quickly that Kicks wondered if he had just imagined it. "I just moved out to live on my own," the kangaroo confided. "It's… scary."

Kicks gave her a sort of half-smile. "You'll come into it, chum. Would you like some help?"

She nodded, so Kicks pulled out a flat metal ruler and knelt down. He held the ruler up against her foot and slid a metal marker to keep the measurement. Then, standing up again, he rummaged through a jumble of random items behind the corner stool. As he searched, the kangaroo resumed her examination of the various shoes in the store.

With a grunt, Kicks pushed aside a heavy, empty jar. Panting a little, he reached for a small book and grabbed it. As he pulled it out from the corner, something caught Kicks' eye: a small set of jars in an open case. Each jar had a different color on its lid, and a spotless cloth was tucked around each jar.

The skunk smiled, but was brought back to reality by the kangaroo knocking a tower of boxes over. He started and jumped to his paws, and as he did so, a bag fell over the set of jars and cloths.

The kangaroo was standing in place, staring sheepishly at the mess. Kicks hurried over to where she stood. "I'm sorry about that…" she murmured.

"No worries," Kicks said, looking at the mess. He held in a sigh. After all, it wasn't her fault.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

Kicks shook his head. "Naw. I'll clean it up later. You might make it worse," he said, chuckling ever-so-slightly. He didn't notice the look the kangaroo gave him as he opened the small book. "Let's see…" Glancing at the metal ruler, Kicks nodded thoughtfully. "Your best bet would be a size 13."

The kangaroo nodded, softening slightly. "What do you have in size 13, then?"

Frowning, Kicks began looking around. "I know I have something…" He sorted through the shoes that were scattered across the floor. Stopping suddenly, he turned to look at her. "Are you still looking for sandals, chum?"

"Unless you have some Kangarmani brand moccasins," the kangaroo answered. She paused. "Do you have any?"

Kicks sat down on the floor to think. "Kangarmani moccasins…" he muttered, rubbing his chin. He looked around, and then up at the ceiling as he thought. "I might. Hang on a tick." He pushed himself up off of the floor and walked to a door set in the corner opposite the stool.

The door led into a packed storage room. The kangaroo peeked over Kicks' shoulder as he flicked the light on and entered. "If I have them…" he said to himself, examining the different stacks of shoeboxes, "I would have them right here." Kicks stopped in front of the smallest stack in the entire storage room. There were four boxes, each one elegantly crafted out of wood and carved with information about the pair of shoes within. He leaned over and read the labels out loud. "Size 12… size 14… size 13 high-tops… size 13 moccasins!" The box with the moccasins was on the bottom of the stack, but Kicks had the box out and into the main room of the store in a few moments.

The kangaroo hopped up and down, a huge smile on her face. "You found some! I didn't expect that! Wow!"

Kicks peeked through the conveniently-placed peephole in the side of the shoebox. Sure enough, there was a pair of genuine Kangarmani moccasins sitting in the box. The blue beads on the bindings proved that. "I didn't expect it either."

"How much do they cost?" the kangaroo asked, pulling out a jingling bag.

Kicks glanced at the price tag on the box. "Two thousand, five hundred Bells." He picked up a small pad of blank receipts that he kept next to the small stool. "Are you interested?"

The kangaroo was already counting out the Bells. "Four hundred, five hundred! Here you go," she said, putting the small mountain on the table next to Kicks. Kicks wrote out the name of the item purchased, the cost of the item, the amount of money paid, and the amount of change the kangaroo received. Then he looked up at her.

"May I have your name?"

She blushed slightly. "I am so sorry! I can't believe I forgot that! I'm Kama."

Kicks asked her how to spell it, then wrote it down on the receipt. He tore the filled-out receipt off of the pad, took the yellow copy for himself, and then handed Kama the white copy. "Kicks," he said. "Nice to meet you."

Kama took the receipt from Kicks and grabbed the shoebox. Kicks took the money and tucked it away into his pocket. "Cha-ching!" he exclaimed. He loved doing that. It made him feel… good. It reminded him of what he had managed to do. "Thanks, chum!" Kicks didn't notice Kama cringe.

"Well… thanks, Kicks," Kama said, a forced smile on her face. Kicks waved good-bye as Kama rushed out of the shop and into the blazing heat. When he couldn't see her anymore, he started repacking and restacking the shoeboxes that she had knocked over.

By the time he finished, it was early evening. The sun had relented ever-so-slightly in its quest to give everyone a sunburn, so the inside of the shop was finally cooling down a little bit. Kicks stood and stretched, gave the shop a once-over with the feather duster that left feathers on most of the shoes, and sat back down on his stool. He glanced outside.

There were no animals- or humans- to be seen, even around T & T Emporium and Redd's ice cream cart. Kicks leaned against the wall, satisfied. He had sold an expensive pair of moccasins and made a friend in the same afternoon. Sighing in relief at the turn his luck had taken, he closed his eyes.

Kicks had fully intended to take a small nap, but he hadn't expected to have someone enter the shop right as he closed his eyes. A wave of dizziness washed over the skunk as he slowly opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times to make sure everything was in focus. To his great surprise, Redd was holding a pair of green high-tops up to the light, examining them.

Redd noticed that Kicks was staring at him and glanced over. "Hey, cousin. What's new?"

"...What?"

Chuckling, Redd put the shoes back in their spot. He leaned on the table and crossed his arms. "What's new? I know that face, cuz, and it's not the 'I love heat' face. That one looks more like this." Redd let his tongue loll out and rolled his eyes upward, panting. Kicks rolled his eyes, and Redd's face resumed normal functionality. "Come on, cuz! Let a guy in on the word!"

"A new face came in," Kicks said, resting his elbows on his knees. "She bought a pair of Kangarmani moccasins."

"Kama? You do know that those were fakes, right?"

Redd's question came like a thunderbolt, shocking Kicks into staring straight at the fox. The skunk tried to say something, but garbled grunts were the only sounds that came out. Kicks coughed and tried again.

"Fake?"

The fox nodded. "Kangarmani moccasins have a different kind of bead on the bindings. A true Kangarmani has very small seed beads called roundules, whereas the fakes had a type of seed bead called hexagonals."

"How could you tell?"

Redd gave a lopsided grin. "I've worked with valuables for more than twenty years, so I can spot fakes from a mile away."

Kicks put his head in his paws. "I can't believe I cheated Kama… What kind of shopkeeper am I?" He sighed and shook his head. "Now I feel even worse, chum."

"Chin up, cuz," Redd said, walking over to stand by Kicks. He punched the skunk lightly on the shoulder. "It'll get better."

"How do you know that?" Kicks asked, voice muffled by his paws.

"I got a fortune from Katrina that said it would," Redd answered. Kicks looked up so quickly that his hat almost fell off.

"She's in town today?"

Redd shrugged. "Well, she was here yesterday. But something told me she was going to stay around for at least another day. Maybe her tent looked a little more permanent. I don't know." He shrugged again, chuckling. "Maybe I just miss the old days in Larkrich, when we all were 'solid establishments of good sense.'" Redd deepened his voice for the last five words, imitating an old-fashioned mayor. He hadn't been imitating anyone in particular; the shopkeepers in Larkrich simply had a running joke about being 'solid establishments of good sense.'

Kicks smiled ruefully. "Maybe we were more solid in those days." Redd barked in laughter.

"As if, cuz! I never was solid. You were, and Harriet was, and Katrina was, but I wasn't. Not by a long shot." Redd fell silent, and then continued after wrinkling his forehead for a moment. "But… well, you know what happened."

Kicks knew. He knew all too well, and it still soured his stomach a little bit. He had fallen for Katrina and he told her. But she had rebuffed his affections. The skunk had shrugged it off, figuring that the fortune-teller had a reason. But the tension in the air caused shopkeepers to start moving away, and finally Kicks left too, to get away from everything that reminded him of Katrina. But that didn't mean it hadn't hurt. It still did.

"Maybe…" Kicks stopped and shook his head. Redd raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. "Maybe that's why I started a shop. To show Katrina that she had made a mistake."

Redd looked around the shop. "I don't think so… I think something else got to you."

Something inside of Kicks murmured, but he was too preoccupied to notice. "Where is Katrina?"

"Tent was set up by the town tree," Redd said. He yawned. "Pardon me, cuz. It's been a hot day. And it's still warm in your shop. I'm falling asleep…" He yawned again and stretched. "I've got to put away my cart before night falls completely. Good night, cuz." Redd made his way to the door of the shop and opened it. He looked back at Kicks, a small frown sneaking onto his face.

"Good night, chum," Kicks said absently.

"Hey." Kicks looked up at Redd. "Are you going to be okay, Kicks?" Kicks nodded, but Redd caught the hesitation. "Look, if you need a place to stay that's actually air conditioned, I have a couch you can bunk on."

"I'll be fine. Thanks, Redd."

The fox stifled a yawn. "Well, my offer's always open." He paused and glanced outside. "It looks like it'll be warm tonight. Good luck."

Redd left the shop and the door swung slowly closed. Kicks stood and, looking around, decided that he could always come in early the next day. He left the shop and locked the door with a key he kept in his pocket, then unlocked the door again so that he could flip the 'Open' sign on the window to 'Closed.'

As Kicks walked slowly down Main Street, evening birds chirped and whistled. A few fingers of sunlight still splayed over the horizon, touching the tops of T & T Emporium and Shampoodle with orange and red. Redd was busily packing up his ice cream cart. Leif was sweeping Main Street, humming a happy tune. Harriet was emptying a dustpan full of cut fur and hair into a garbage bin while chatting with Mabel.

Of the animals on Main Street, only Leif and Redd acknowledged Kicks. Redd nodded at the skunk while Leif waved happily. The others didn't notice that he was there. But maybe they did. Kicks had often wondered about that. He wondered why the other shopkeepers never seemed to notice him. Of course, there were those that talked with him, but he generally was a wisp on Main Street's consciousness.

The steps that led from Main Street into the residential area of Ebony Sands were still warm from the burning sun. Kicks sat down heavily on the middle step, enjoying the warmth that seeped through him. It was relaxing, and he leaned back on his paws to watch the stars come out.

"They sure are beautiful, aren't they?" a voice asked. Kicks looked around. Mayor Sissel was standing on the bottom step, looking up at the sky. "I've always loved the stars," Mayor Sissel continued, smiling slightly. He sat down next to Kicks. "They remind me of what I was, what I could become."

Kicks turned the mayor's words over in his mind. "What do you mean, sir?"

Mayor Sissel chuckled. "Stars look small. But they're actually huge, and many are larger than our sun. I used to think I was small and unimportant."

"Now?"

"Now?" Mayor Sissel closed his eyes as the sun finished setting. "I'm not sure. But I know that I can do a lot of things. In that way, I think we all are more like the sun than we realize. That's why I love the stars." He opened his eyes again. "There's the first one tonight. Make your wish."

The two sat on the middle step for a few minutes. Kicks' chin rested on his paws as he thought about what the mayor had said, while Mayor Sissel watched each star pop into the night's blackness.

Make a wish? Kicks thought, glancing at Mayor Sissel. Isn't that a little… childish?

Almost as if he could read Kicks' thoughts, Mayor Sissel said, "I still wish on stars. Wishy is out there, somewhere. And if I wish hard enough, I usually end up doing something about my wish, whatever it is." His smile grew. "We can fulfill so many of our own wishes if we take the first step."

Kicks was even more confused than before. It seemed so out of the ordinary for the mayor, but it made… some sort of sense. The trouble was that Kicks couldn't figure out what kind of sense it made.

"Mayor?"

"Hmm?"

"Is Katrina still in town?" Kicks waited for Mayor Sissel to reply. The mayor stood and looked down at Kicks.

"She is. I believe she is still taking fortune requests, but I would move quickly." The way Mayor Sissel said that seemed to indicate he meant more than just running to the tent. He held out a hand, but Kicks shook his head. "Good night, and good luck." Mayor Sissel walked back across the train tracks and headed south. His house could be seen in the distance, one light shining in the window.

Kicks pushed himself to his paws and started across the train tracks. Since it was nearly seven, the likelihood of a passing train was very small, but he checked both ways before crossing anyway. It was a hard-to-break habit.

The town plaza was in the middle of Ebony Sands' residential area, but as time had passed, the residential area grew larger and the town plaza became part of the west residential area. It was still easy to get to, though. Kicks walked south from the train tracks, passing Mayor Sissel's house as he did so, and soon he came to the plaza.

A great tree, planted by Mayor Sissel himself, grew in the middle of the plaza. It was an oak tree, though it may have had a redwood tree in its ancestry for it was redder than a normal oak should have been. It was also far wider than a normal oak. The tree towered over the plaza, casting shadows in the moonlight. In a patch of those shadows sat Katrina's tent.

Her tent was just as Kicks remembered it. It was still that purple that she loved so much, etched with strange designs that he couldn't made heads or tails of. Her tent was like her, in a way. He had understood part of her, but there were other things about her that confused him. Yet he still had loved her. If he was being honest with himself, he still loved her.

Kicks grimaced and pushed his thoughts to the side. Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, he reached for the curtain doors of Katrina's tent.

"You may enter," a voice called out in a measured rhythm. Kicks shuddered and pushed aside the curtain doors.

Katrina sat behind a small table that carried the weight of a crystal ball. Four candles, two on each side of the crystal ball, sat on the table as well. She watched Kicks as he settled himself in front of the table, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a couple of coins. He knew she was watching him closely, reading his 'aura,' but he tried to not let that unnerve him.

"Do you seek your fortune?" Katrina asked quietly.

Kicks tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly tight. He nodded instead.

"Very well." Katrina began to wave her paws over the crystal ball and mutter incomprehensible words. Kicks wondered if some of the words were made up. They had to be, since he had never heard of words that sounded like 'kee hahamato,' or whatever it was she said.

Silver lights began to swirl through the tent, pushing everything within into stark contrast. Two of the silver lights highlighted Katrina's eyes. Kicks had to stop himself from crying out. With silver eyes, Katrina looked even more beautiful- and more terrifying- than he had ever seen her.

The silver lights continued to swirl, and Katrina stared into the crystal ball. The lights swirled faster and faster until, all of a sudden, they disappeared. The tent faded back into its candlelit normalcy and Katrina's eyes became their usual piercing color. Kicks rubbed his eyes and, as he did so, Katrina began to speak.

"You sit in an empty shop. Elsewhere, animals and humans alike frequent establishments that they respect. Something is missing inside of you. An old hurt is unmasked. You have forgotten what was left behind."

Even though Kicks knew that Katrina didn't actually have powers, it still chilled him. She called herself an 'animal animal,' which simply meant that she could sense things through intuition. But that intuition was powerful, so powerful that it was easy to see why some thought she did have the sight.

Katrina gazed at Kicks, and he caught something flicker in her eyes. Sadness? Remorse, maybe? "But all is not lost," she continued. "Something may change. But how? That is for you to find."

Kicks shook himself back into reality. Katrina had always been able to weave something like a spell with her words, and this time was no different. He still wondered what he had seen in her eyes, but she would never answer such a direct question. At least, she wouldn't answer it with a clear and direct answer. "Thank you," he said, though he could tell that his voice was colored with uncertainty. He glanced at his paw, which still held the coins, and with effort moved the paw so that he could give the coins to Katrina.

Accepting the coins, Katrina put them to the side. She nodded once, and Kicks stood. He began to leave the tent, but something stopped him.

"Thank you, again," he said quietly. "I really do mean that."

Katrina regarded Kicks coolly. "Allow me to ask you a question." Startled, Kicks turned around to face Katrina again. "Do you know what to do?"

Kicks began to nod, but broke it off by shrugging. "Sure, chum," he said lightly. Katrina raised an eyebrow so quickly and over such a small area of her forehead that Kicks almost missed it. "It's easy. I've got to figure out what happened."

"And animals call me vague," Katrina replied. There was no change to her voice, but Kicks knew her well enough to cringe at the unheard tone.

"I do know what you mean, chum."

Katrina blinked, and Kicks knew that she was done. He turned and pushed through the curtain doors, and as the tent doors closed he heard a murmur that might have been Katrina saying something. But he knew better than to go back and ask what she had said. He had done that once, but she had completely ignored him.

As Kicks stood outside of the tent, trying to sort through his emotions and thoughts, a small breeze scurried past him. It was comfortingly warm, almost like a compliment or a friend's laughter. With a pang, he thought about Larkrich. He had friends in Larkrich. The other shopkeepers often checked in on him on sunny days, talking for hours on the steps of the abandoned building. Lyle even invited him over for family dinner on occasion (Lyle's bean-and-salmon bake was always the highlight of the meal).

What was it that Katrina said? Kicks thought. Something is missing? I've forgotten what was left behind?

Kicks looked up at the sky and the millions of stars that patterned it. Unconsciously, he started tracing constellations.

I wonder where that first star is…

A shooting star streaked through the Cat's Paw constellation.

I wish… I wish I knew what I was missing, Kicks thought, watching the shooting star disappear over the horizon.

He stared at the point where the shooting star had disappeared for a long while, then another breeze skittered past him. This one was slightly cooler than the previous breeze, and he smiled slightly. After such a hot day, the cooler breeze was a relief.

Yet another breeze flew past, and then another, and soon enough the breezes merged into a constant wind. It was strong enough to push the uppermost branches of the town plaza's tree back and forth and send waving shadows across the plaza. A low whisper permeated the air, and Kicks shivered. He had always disliked stormy weather, and as he looked around the wind grew stronger. A thick bank of clouds was creeping over the western horizon, and an occasional flash illuminated the cloudbank in frightful clarity.

Kicks started walking toward the eastern part of the residential district. As he walked, he shot a glance over his shoulder at Katrina's tent. It was solidly built, with thick walls and sturdy poles, but he wondered if it could stand up against a storm. He hoped that she had a place to stay. Maybe she was staying with Harriet. The two were fast friends, and Katrina had stayed there before.

The wind picked up from a whisper to a keening. The trees that lined the various paths of the residential area started swaying more violently while Kicks held his hat on. Creaking from the trees began filling the air, and as the wind rose and wailed, he arrived at his house.

His house was a one-story, ramshackle affair. Missing multiple shingles, the house was susceptible to every whim of the weather. Chinks in the walls allowed sharp drafts to sneak in. Heating and air conditioning was non-existent, so Kicks had become rather good at making blankets. All in all, Kicks' house was a hovel. But it was home.

Kicks unlocked the door and slowly opened the door. The last time there had been a storm, he had let the door slam open. It had taken two months to save up enough to reattach the door.

After closing the door and locking it behind him, Kicks flicked on a light. He took his hat off and went to hang it on a hat hook, but stopped. There was a hole in his hat, one that he hadn't noticed before. Kicks felt the hole and sighed. The edges of the fabric were too far apart for him to pull them together and resew.

Kicks, still holding his hat, walked to a leather couch. It was an old couch, but looked brand-new, unlike everything else in the house. He sank onto the couch with a grateful sigh and glanced at the hat. He passed his paw over the rest of the hat. It was thinning from constant use and old age.

"When did I get this hat?" Kicks asked quietly. There was no one around to reply, but that didn't stop an answer from coming. A memory wriggled out from underneath a heap of the past and presented itself.

"What's this, Mom?"

"Well… your Dad and I thought that you might as well start with a good hat. A hat can make all the difference, dear."

"But this is a top quality hat, Mom. I can't take this. You and Dad can't afford this."

"Kicks, Mom and I talked about it. We'll manage. Ever since you decided to go to Larkrich, we've saved every penny we can. We might not have much, but you're our son."

"…Thanks, Mom and Dad. I… I won't let you down."

"That was the day…" Kicks mumbled, staring at the hat. "That was the first time I… shined… shoes…" He sat bolt upright, hat tumbling out of his paws and onto the floor. "What did I leave behind… What was it?"

Kicks stood and paced, paws waving madly as he tried to articulate his thoughts. "I left behind… the city?" He shook his head, mentally scratching that option off of the list. "Shoe shining? Well, I did leave that, but I don't think… Wait." He paused in his pacing, looking at nothing in particular. But ideas can be slippery, and he lost it.

Frustrated, Kicks picked up his hat and hung it on the hook. He took a small bowl of oats out of a pantry, mixed them with water, and ate it, still frustrated. Finally, stomach unhappy, he stopped and breathed deeply. It took quite a few breaths, but the frustration eventually dissipated. Kicks smiled slightly as another memory popped up.

"Miss, you forgot your change!"

"Keep it, Kicks. You did such a good job that you deserve a bonus."

"...Awright, Miss."

The warmth of the memory accompanied Kicks to his bed mat on the floor, dispelling his usual nighttime homesickness.

The next day dawned bright, with no hint of the previous night's storm. Kicks hurriedly ate breakfast and left for Main Street, forgetting to lock the door in his haste. A different idea had come to him during the night, and he was determined to pursue it.

The Able Sisters wasn't open yet, but Sable opened the door when Kicks knocked on it. Her eyes widened when she saw Kicks at the door, yet to her credit, she let him in despite the earliness of the hour. As Sable closed the door behind him, Mabel rushed past with a pile of clothes in her arms. Labelle was right behind Mabel, holding another pile of clothes. Neither one stopped to say hello, and since they didn't say hello to Sable either, Kicks didn't feel bad.

Sable led Kicks over to a couple of stools next to a large sewing machine. "What is it, Kicks?" Sable asked, stifling a yawn. "You're never here this early."

Kicks picked up a rumpled pair of jeans that sat on the floor and began to fold them. "I had a question for you, Sable."

Her interest piqued, Sable listened as Kicks told her all about the day before. Every so often, he would hand her a folded item of clothing and then pick up another. Before he had finished telling her everything, there was a stack of folded clothes on a nearby table that was in danger of toppling over. Fortunately, Mabel and Labelle took the folded clothes and put them in their proper places.

"I can't remember what I left behind," Kicks said, folding one final shirt and handing it to Sable. "I thought I had it last night, but it slipped away." The skunk fell silent, looking around the shop. There wasn't much to see, but he knew that in a half hour the shelves and racks would be filled with clothes. There would be customers clamoring for the Able brand name. "I… don't know what I lost, chum." Sable cringed, and Kicks noticed. "What?"

"Forgive me, Kicks, but I really dislike that word," Sable said. She grimaced before continuing. "It… grates."

"You don't like 'chum'?"

Sable grimaced again. "No. It's… forward."

Kicks frowned as he digested this. "How so?"

Shrugging, Sable began sorting through a small mountain of fabric samples. Kicks waited for her to say something. She paused while looking at a sample of green plaid. "It's… I don't know, Kicks. But it's such a departure from the old you that I've always hated it. It just seems so forward, almost as though you're saying, 'Hi, I just met you, but now we're best friends and I don't care what you think.'" She shrugged again and put the green plaid to the side. "I miss when you would say 'mate.' That was friendlier. It was more…"

It was the first phrase to pop into Kicks' head. "Like me?"

Sable grinned, examining a piece of purple corduroy. "Yeah. It was like you. It was you."

"Naw, not the corduroy," Kicks remarked. Sable nodded in agreement and put the purple corduroy in a pile of its own. "So… I need to change from 'chum' to 'mate'?"

"I think it would help," Sable said frankly. "It couldn't hurt." She held up some blue wool. Kicks shook his head, and she put it with the purple corduroy. Then she put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. "Honestly, Kicks, I don't know what Katrina was talking about. But I do know that I miss hearing you say 'mate.'" She shrugged somewhat awkwardly, elbows still on her knees. "I don't even know if that's what Katrina meant. But it's worth looking at."

"I'm not your chum, skunk."

"What did you call me? Oh."

Those were only a couple incidents that Kicks could remember. But it was enough. "When did I get so attached to that word?" he asked, not expecting a response. Sable knew that, but she knew what he needed to hear.

"I don't know, Kicks."

Kicks glanced at Sable and saw that she was smiling. He stood and held out a paw. She shook her head, indicating the pile of fabric samples that still needed sorting. "Thanks, Sable. Thanks for… everything. Thanks…" He paused, cutting the word off before it came and putting a different one in. "Mate."

It was high noon. The sun was more merciful than it had been the day before, so Kicks wasn't sweating as badly as he usually did in summer. The air of Kicks was filled with dust motes, but he didn't mind. After leaving the Able Sisters, Kicks had unlocked his shop, flipped the 'Closed' sign so that it read 'Open,' and gave the shop a vigorous dusting. It had been at least two months since he had thoroughly cleaned the shop, so there was a thin layer of dust on all of the shelves and the shoes. At least, there was until he began dusting. Soon enough, the dust was in the air instead of on the shelves and shoes, and Kicks was happily tired.

A couple of dust motes drifted too close to his nose and he sneezed, almost falling over backward into the clutter behind his stool. Gripping the sides of his stool, he grimaced and looked around. There were no vents in his shop, as there had never been a need for them. Kicks shook his head and tried to ignore the dust, but more motes made it near impossible to not sneeze. He stood and started looking around the shop for a way to get rid of the dust.

His search took him to the storage room where the Kangarmani moccasins had sat for so long. Pushing shoeboxes and packaging out of the way, he finally stumbled on a small desk fan. It was strange. He held it up and tried to remember where it had come from.

"…Harriet?" Kicks asked himself, thinking hard. He seemed to remember that Harriet had given it to him one day, back when they were both still in Larkrich. It was so long ago, though, that he couldn't quite say if it were accurate.

The desk fan fit nicely on the table that sat next to the front door. He plugged it in and turned it on, and air began circulating throughout the shop. The dust protested by swirling in great circles, but eventually the desk fan was able to push all of it out of the shop.

Kicks sat back on his stool, watching the desk fan at work. His frown was so intense that he almost scared away Julian and Poppy, but they braved his frown and entered the shop. Once Kicks realized that they were in the shop, he pulled a smile onto his face and was able to find what they needed in moments.

Julian and Poppy ended up purchasing a pair of boots and a pair of sandals each. They took their receipts from Kicks and handed over the money. "Cha-ching!" he exclaimed. He frowned slightly as the two other animals winced, but shrugged it off. "Thanks, mates. Have a great day, awright?" The two left with their purchases, bemused by Kicks' behavior. Kicks overheard Julian talking to Poppy.

"I like being called 'mate.' Much better than 'chum.'"

Kicks smiled. Sable had been right, after all.

As the sun began to set, Kicks started putting things away. One other customer had come, a tiger named Rolf who had ended up buying two pairs of fluffy slippers. There was more money in Kicks' pocket than there had been in over three months.

Kicks put a small pile of shoeboxes under a table and straightened the other two piles that sat tucked away. He started to stand up, but something shiny caught his eye. It was small, and when Kicks picked it up he saw that it was a pin-on badge from… something. Standing up straight, he was able to see what the badge really was. A pair of wings sprouted from a system of three gears, with two letters embossed over the center: AC.

The badge was like nothing Kicks had ever seen before. At least, he couldn't remember seeing it, though it was familiar. He turned the badge over in his paw and found a series of tiny scratches. "What?" he murmured, looking more closely at the scratches. The scratches seemed to make a word, but he couldn't read it.

Rubbing the badge in his paw, Kicks began searching for a magnifying glass. After looking through the entire store, he finally pushed through the clutter behind his stool. A small box that held needles sat next to a bag. He tilted his head quizzically, then picked the bag up, revealing the case that he had seen the day before. The sight of the case brought a smile to his face.

He pulled the case out from the corner and started going through the contents. Immaculate cloths, some ripped but still serviceable, were wound around jars with colored lids. In a small slot on the left side of the case was a little packet of needles and thread. A magnifying glass was nestled next to the packet.

Kicks pulled out one of the jars and unscrewed the lid. A thick, purple, jelly-like material rested in the jar, still showing trails of use from something dragging through the material. He put the badge onto the corner of a nearby table and wafted the air above the jar toward his nose. "It's still good," he said quietly, screwing the lid back onto the jar.

"Awright, mate! That's a nice shine, that is."

The other jars all contained the same sort of jelly-like material, but each jar had a different color. Kicks put the last jar back into the case and sat back. "It's just like I remember it. The shoe polish, the cloths, the repair kit…" He shook his head, chuckling. "I forgot that I still had this."

The skunk paused. "I forgot… about this… case. Could this be… what was left behind?"

There was no answer from the empty shop. Kicks looked at his paws in thought. He could remember shining shoes. The sweltering heat of a summer in Larkrich. The mild winters sitting on the steps of an abandoned building. Chatting with animals and the occasional human.

Kicks frowned. It couldn't be the case that Katrina had been talking about. Besides, he had already remembered shining shoes. What was he missing?

Frustrated, he pushed the memories away and grabbed the small magnifying glass and the badge. After a few moments of focusing the glass, the scratches came into focus: Rolf.

Kicks hesitated, then knocked on the blue door. He had decided to visit Harriet later, since he knew when she left Shampoodle; he didn't have any idea when Rolf went to sleep. Even so, it had taken all of Kicks' courage to cross the train tracks and check the town map that hung next to the train station. It was even harder to walk to the section of the residential area that Rolf lived in.

He knocked again, wondering why the tiger hadn't opened the door yet. The light was on in the window, and the noise of chattering voices floated underneath the door. There were a few voices, including one that Kicks tentatively identified as Mayor Sissel's.

Just as Kicks was about to give up and leave, the door swung open. "Don't eat all of the ice cream, Sissel!" a large white tiger shouted over his shoulder. The tiger turned his attention to Kicks. "Oh, okay. This is unexpected. What's up, shoe man?"

"Rolf, you left something in my shop today," Kicks said, fighting back the squeak that threatened to color his voice. "Here you go, mate." He held out a paw, the badge resting in it. Rolf raised an eyebrow and reached for the badge. As he took it, his eyes lit up.

"I dropped this?" Rolf felt his shirt and chuckled. "I sure did! Wow, thanks!" The tiger quickly pinned the badge onto his shirt. "I can't believe I didn't notice it missing."

Kicks nodded, then turned to go. Rolf stopped him with a paw. "Hey. Kicks, right? Thanks." Kicks turned back to face the open door. Rolf was smiling happily. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found this. Hold on a moment." Rolf disappeared into his house for a brief moment, and then reappeared with a small box. "Here you go, Kicks."

"Do you mind if I ask what that is?" Kicks asked, taking the box from Rolf.

"What, this badge? It's my proof of membership with the Animal Council."

"Oh." Kicks wasn't quite sure what to say. He had thought it was something… more. He almost turned to go, but Rolf hadn't finished speaking.

"Yeah, it's pretty important to me. My dad's the head of the Council, and he got to present the badge to me." Rolf glanced down at the badge on his shirt and smiled. There were lines, though, that Kicks hadn't noticed on Rolf's face before. Lines of age? "It's the only thing I have to remember him by," Rolf continued quietly. "If I'd lost it… I don't know." The tiger chuckled and looked up at Kicks. "You probably think I'm going soft, eh?"

Kicks shook his head. "Not at all, mate." He took his hat off and looked at it, feeling the worn and thin fabric between his paws. "I… I'm glad someone found it then, mate."

Rolf eyed Kicks with a knowing smile. "Well, it is good for remembering things." Kicks shot Rolf a look, hearing the second layer of meaning in the tiger's words. Rolf shrugged and grinned. "Do you want to come in for a slice of cake?"

Two feelings bubbled up in Kicks' heart: surprise at being invited to something, and a yearning to join in. But he needed to talk to Harriet about the desk fan. He couldn't stay.

"If it's awright with you," Kicks said. Rolf nodded and held the door open so that the skunk could come in. Past the entryway was the living room, which was covered in streamers and balloons. Mayor Sissel, Poppy, Fauna, Zell, Tom Nook, and Sable were sitting on various pieces of furniture, from a purple love-seat (occupied by Tom Nook and Sable) to a filled cardboard box (which Mayor Sissel proudly sat upon). Everyone had a plate of cake, ice cream, and jellybeans.

When Kicks entered the living room, the conversation stopped. As the sitters looked at Kicks, Mayor Sissel smiled broadly and stood up. "Come on over, Kicks! There's a rather comfortable cardboard box next to me."

Tom Nook jumped up from the loveseat and headed to Kicks. He shook the skunk's paw heartily. "Great to see you, Kicks! What kind of ice cream would you like?"

Kicks was stunned. Tom had never been this excited to see him before. "Uh…"

Rolf clapped Kicks on the shoulder. "We've got chocolate, cookie dough, and vanilla. Choose one, or two, or all three, and enjoy!"

The skunk managed to mumble something about cookie dough before Tom disappeared into the kitchen, then stumbled over to where Mayor Sissel stood. Sure enough, there was a cardboard box sitting next to the one the mayor had claimed. It was stuffed with books and smaller boxes. Kicks sat down hesitantly, then smiled. It was actually quite comfortable.

Tom reappeared, carrying a plate laden with cookie dough ice cream, vanilla and raspberry cake, and a small army of jellybeans. "Here you go, Kicks. Enjoy!"

Accepting the plate, Kicks looked around. Sable had started talking with Poppy, and Fauna had been pulled back into a board game by Zell. Tom, after handing Kicks a fork and a spoon, sat down next to Sable and joined Fauna and Zell. Mayor Sissel popped a green jellybean in his mouth and picked up a pad of paper and a pencil.

Rolf picked his way through the crowded room and stood next to Kicks. "Are you going to open your box?" Rolf asked as Kicks lifted a forkful of ice cream and cake to his mouth. The fork stopped in midair. "Go on," the tiger chuckled, and Kicks stuffed the forkful of food into his mouth. He set the fork down and started to open the box.

Mayor Sissel glanced over at Kicks and then looked back at his pad. He looked back at what Kicks was doing, almost as though he had just realized what was going on. "What is it?" the mayor asked, sounding so excited that someone would think he had gotten the box.

Kicks finished opening the box and pulled out a… "This is for me?"

Rolf shrugged absently. "Sure. Why not?"

"This…" Kicks couldn't find the words he needed. He simply sat and stared at the handmade tan hat. It looked almost like the hat he wore right then, but it was new and made of a slightly more durable material than the one on his head. "I can't accept this, Rolf."

"Yes, you can," Rolf contradicted, sitting heavily down on the floor. "And I won't take 'no' for an answer. When I told Fauna that I had visited you and noticed your hat was wearing thin, she picked up fabric and needle and went to work. So I hope you won't reject my best friend's handiwork."

Kicks rubbed his cheek thoughtfully, then sighed and smiled. "All right… Thank you, Rolf. Thank you, Fauna." Fauna looked up, waved, and returned to the board game. "It's almost exactly like the one my parents gave me."

"I guess you understand some of the attachment I feel toward my badge," Rolf said, leaning back on his paws. He glanced at the ceiling before continuing. "It was… well, you know."

"The only thing you had to remember him by," Kicks murmured, remembering what Rolf had said earlier. "I know. …I feel the same way about my hat. My parents saved for so long to buy this hat, so that I could go out into the world with some semblance of dignity." Kicks put his chin in his paws. "Next thing I know, I can't find them again."

Mayor Sissel patted Kicks on the shoulder and returned to his pad of paper, picking up his pencil and beginning to make quick strokes. "It happens to everyone at one point or another, Kicks. I've forgotten where my birth town is."

"How do you keep going?"

The mayor looked up, startled. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Kicks repeated his question. "How do you keep going, Mayor? I mean, how do you stand the homesickness?" The terrible, aching loneliness had crept up on Kicks as he thought about his hat, and it gnawed at his stomach. He couldn't help but wonder if it made him desperate. Desperate for what, though, was the question. There was something else, too. Something that was… harder to describe, but disappeared the moment he tried to pin it down. Kicks sighed. "How do you do it?"

Mayor Sissel nodded slowly. "The homesickness…" He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then stifled a yawn. "Sorry about that," he said, putting his glasses back on. "Well… it's hard. Sometimes I can't. That's when I write letters to Mom and Dad. I tell them how much I miss them. I tell them how things are going in Ebony Sands. I tell them how my last date went." The mayor gave a little half-smile. "But it's getting better."

"How?" Kicks' voice was little more than a whisper.

"As I put more of myself into Ebony Sands, I find the homesickness getting less," Mayor Sissel explained, putting down a few short pencil lines. "I think that it's because Ebony Sands is growing to be my home. I'm becoming… a native." He chuckled, then continued. "Simply put, Ebony Sands is becoming my home."

Kicks stared at the hat in his hands, the brand-new hat handmade by a resident of Ebony Sands. "And it's because… you put yourself into the town?"

Mayor Sissel carefully made a long, heavy mark on the paper. "I believe so."

There was silence after that. Kicks continued to stare at the hat, while Rolf pulled a book off of a nearby shelf and began to read. Mayor Sissel, focusing on his paper, glanced up every so often and then went back to… whatever he was doing.

Am I… uneasy? Kicks thought. Maybe that's why I'm desperate. Maybe… homesickness is throwing me off-balance.

He sat on the box for a little while longer, pondering that train of thought. Next to him, Mayor Sissel flipped to a new page and began marking it in staggering motions.

Put more of myself into Ebony Sands…

Kicks put the hat into its box, rested a paw on Mayor Sissel's shoulder, and gestured to the entryway. The mayor put down his paper and pencil and followed the skunk through the living room, though no one noticed. Kicks looked over into the living room and, seeing that they still weren't being watched, led Mayor Sissel into the kitchen.

"Mayor, I need to ask you a question."

Mayor Sissel raised an eyebrow and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Go ahead, Kicks."

"How do I make my mark in Ebony Sands?"

Eyes widening briefly, only to be replaced by a smile, Mayor Sissel put a hand on Kicks' shoulder. "Be the real you, Kicks. Be the one that is inside. That's how you put yourself into the town." Kicks frowned, and Mayor Sissel laughed. "I know that's not necessarily what you wanted to hear, but I don't have anything more specific than that."

"Sissel, you had better not be eating ice cream!" Rolf hollered from the living room. "I have to take some to Harriet tonight!"

Mayor Sissel rolled his eyes. "Apparently I eat too much ice cream," he confided in Kicks. Then he shouted, "I am not eating any ice cream, Rolf! Cake… that's a different matter!"

"Hardy har har," Rolf shouted back, sounding utterly unamused. "Harriet needs some of that, too."

"Then I'll make sure to save her some! A little piece, about as big as my small finger," Mayor Sissel retorted, winking at Kicks.

Kicks was about to say something when Rolf entered the kitchen, a look of mock fury on his face. "If you weren't the mayor, Sissel," he said angrily. He glared at Mayor Sissel, who glared back. But in a few moments, the two started laughing and wiping tears from their eyes. "Hahaha! Just don't eat all of it," Rolf gasped, steadying himself on the counter. Mayor Sissel gave a weak thumbs-up before collapsing to the floor, holding his sides.

Kicks didn't know why, but he started laughing too. He hadn't laughed in a very long time, and while it was different… it was nice, all at the same time. Mayor Sissel reached up and patted Kicks' arm.

"There's part of the real you, Kicks."

Mayor Sissel was right. But only part? Where was the other part?

In a few minutes, the three had recovered. Rolf busily cut a large slice of cake and put it on a paper plate. He added a scoop of chocolate ice cream to the plate and put the whole thing in his freezer, alongside a small bag of purple jellybeans. Mayor Sissel sliced another piece of cake and handed it to Rolf, who put it on a plate with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a few green and red jellybeans. Kicks, a small number of orange jellybeans in his paw, watched the two work, popping the occasional jellybean into his mouth until the cake was completely cut up and the ice cream buckets were empty.

"Whew," Mayor Sissel gasped, wiping his forehead with a paper towel. "I didn't realize how many residents didn't make it to your birthday party, Rolf."

If Kicks had had any other jellybeans in his paws, they would have fallen to the floor. He stared at Rolf in amazement. "It's… it's your birthday?"

Rolf shrugged, but he grinned as he snuck one of Mayor Sissel's yellow jellybeans. "I saw that," Mayor Sissel said sternly.

"Yep," Rolf replied, ignoring the mayor. "Thought I'd throw the biggest shindig Ebony Sands has ever seen. Of course," he continued, grinning mischievously at Mayor Sissel, "it's not as grand as that one Christmas party."

Mayor Sissel didn't dignify Rolf's comment with a response.

"It's your birthday, and you gave me something…" Kicks trailed off. He looked at the kitchen counter in dismay. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"No worries," Rolf replied, sneaking another of the mayor's jellybeans. "Dad always said that giving is better than getting."

Kicks smiled hesitantly, still looking at the kitchen counter. "I would have brought something, though."

The tiger laughed and started to walk out of the kitchen. "I don't want anything, Kicks, and that badge was all I really needed." He stopped and turned to look back at Kicks. "It's already the best birthday ever, friend." Then Rolf left the kitchen.

A warmth spread through Kicks. It was a warmth he had forgotten. "Mayor?"

"Hmm?" Mayor Sissel glanced up. "What's up?"

"If you've made a mark… does it make you feel warm inside? Does it make you feel like… like you could float away? Do you feel accepted?"

Mayor Sissel was quiet for a moment. Then he started humming a song that Kicks found familiar. "Yes. And no. I believe that you can feel those things even if someplace isn't home. But I also know that it means something to feel that way. You have to figure out what it means, though."

Then what does it mean for me?

The mayor stretched and yawned. "Whew! Excuse me. I think I need to go to sleep. It's almost…" Mayor Sissel checked his watch. "Eleven."

Kicks started. "It's that late?"

"Well, it's ten thirty, but that's close enough. Why?"

"I need to talk to Harriet tonight," Kicks said, hurrying into the living room. He picked his way through the chaos that the board game had become, grabbed the box with the hat in it, and picked his way back through the chaos. Rolf pulled himself away from the board game and followed Kicks to the front door.

"Where are you off to?" the tiger asked Kicks.

The skunk glanced around the entryway, then rolled his eyes. "I left it in the shop. That's right." He turned to Rolf. "I meant to stop by and talk to Harriet tonight, and it's almost ten thirty."

Rolf grinned. "Gotcha. Well, if you're stopping by, would you take a plate of cake and ice cream to her? I promised that she would get some. Sissel, hand me that plate, would you?" Mayor Sissel opened the freezer and pulled out the first plate Rolf had prepared. He handed it to Rolf through the archway connecting the kitchen and the entryway, then closed the freezer and exited the kitchen.

Kicks shrugged. "I can do that." He took the plate from Rolf and winced at the biting chill.

Rolf opened the door for Kicks. "Take care," Rolf said as Kicks walked out. "And thanks again! You're welcome any time."

The warmth washed over Kicks again, subduing the chill from the plate. "I think I'll take you up on that," he said.

As Kicks walked away, he heard Mayor Sissel and Rolf talking. "Why did you let him in? Not that I was against it, but I'm curious."

"Sissel, everyone needs a friend. And besides, I think it's cool that he's changing."

"Makes sense."

Kicks couldn't wipe away the small tear that escaped. That's what this warmth is, for me. Friendship.

It was almost ten forty-five by the time Kicks got to Shampoodle. Luckily, the light was still on in the back room of the salon, so Kicks put the desk fan down on the landing and knocked on the door.

"We're closed, sugar!" Harriet's voice shouted from the back room. "But we'll open again tomorrow!"

Kicks knocked again. "I'm sure you wouldn't say that to the one carrying your cake, mate!" he called through the door.

"Kicks? Hold on!" There were footsteps, then a loud crashing which almost obscured the frustrated exclamations Harriet let out. "Of all the foul, split end things to happen, I had to put the box of glass bottles right there!" Finally, Harriet emerged from the back room, fur sticking out all over the place. She looked rather grumpy as she unlocked the front door and, after Kicks picked up the desk fan, she ushered him in.

"Where should I sit?" Kicks asked. Harriet waved a paw at the assembled chairs.

"Wherever, dear. I'll be right back." Harriet disappeared into the back room again, and Kicks heard her repacking a box and sweeping something with a broom. He looked around and, catching sight of a chair with a green seat, he sat down. He rested the plate on Harriet's magazine table and picked up the January issue of Better Salon and Hair.

Just as Kicks began reading an article about the kind of shoes to wear in a salon, Harriet stomped out of the back room, emptied a dustpan into her overflowing garbage bin, and put the dustpan on a hook. She sat down with a huff next to Kicks, who closed the magazine and put it down on the table.

"Cake?" Kicks asked, picking up the plate and handing it to Harriet. She glanced at the plate, then at Kicks, and a rueful smile replaced her angry frown.

"Thanks," Harriet sighed, taking the plate from Kicks. "Ooh, and chocolate ice cream!" Kicks handed her a fork and she dug in, pausing only to savor the exquisite taste. "Rolf knows how to make cake," she mumbled through a full mouth.

Kicks shook his head in amusement and picked up the magazine he had been reading. By the time he had finished the article about what shoes to wear in a salon, Harriet had finished the cake and ice cream and was quickly finishing off the jellybeans.

Once she had eaten everything, Harriet sat the plate down on the magazine table. "Whew, that was delicious. Almost makes up for not being able to go to the party."

"I suppose whatever floats your boat," Kicks said, putting the magazine down again.

Harriet nodded thoughtfully. "True, too true. Was it a good party?"

"I thought so," Kicks replied. "Of course, I'm probably biased."

"That's good." Harriet leaned back in the chair and smiled. "That's good."

The two sat in companionable silence until Harriet, looking around, noticed the desk fan. "You kept it!" she exclaimed, the front legs of her chair hitting the floor with a muted thud. "You kept the fan! Oh, I hoped you would!"

Kicks was startled by the sudden outburst, but he recovered quickly. "So you did give it to me?"

"Sure I did, sugar! Did you forget?"

"I wasn't sure…"

Harriet laughed. "Oh, you did forget. No matter! It was… the twenty-first of July, I believe. It was so blazing hot that everyone was running their air conditioners at full power, all the time. Lyle gutted three cooler units that summer." She smirked at the memory. "It was hot. And then there you were, on your step, with nothing to keep you cool."

"I was fine," Kicks tried to say, but Harriet gave him the look he knew rather well. It was a look full of the incredulity that only Harriet was capable of. "Or I could be lying?"

"I think so," Harriet said drily. "Phineas noticed, and you know how blind he can be. Anyway, I couldn't just let you sweat to death, and you were my friend. I got the others to help and… that was that, sugar."

Kicks looked at the desk fan and picked it up. He smiled as the memory came back.

"Here you go, Kicks!"

"...What?"

"Well, you know, I just see you out here in the blistering heat and I wonder if you're okay."

"I really am… awright, it is hot."

"I thought so, sugar! So take it! From all of us in Larkrich."

"Everyone?"

"Yup! Even old Redd pitched in. Which, now that I think about it, is suspicious."

"…Thanks, Harriet."

Harriet eyed Kicks curiously as he laughed quietly. "You all really cared… didn't you?"

The poodle elbowed him lightly in the side. "Of course we did, dear. You were one of us. We couldn't just let you go without. We couldn't let you get hurt from all that sun."

Kicks suddenly looked up from the desk fan. "What did you say?"

"That sun was going to give you a horrible burn, or something worse," Harriet explained, looking slightly bewildered by Kicks' intensity. "So we couldn't let you get hurt."

The skunk jumped to his paws and grabbed the desk fan. "I have to go, mate."

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "Why? Don't like me anymore?" She chuckled as Kicks shot a disbelieving glance at her. "Or I could be kidding?"

"I think so," Kicks replied, winking as he walked to the door. "I need to fix something. I should have fixed it earlier, so that someone doesn't hurt." He waved to Harriet as he opened the door. "Take care, Harriet. Awright, mate?"

Kicks wasn't sure, but he thought that maybe Harriet had tried to hide a smile. "All right, Kicks. See you later, dear."

The house was newly built, and smelled like fresh pine wood. Kicks let the smell calm his nerves as he reached into his pocket. The contents jingled and he shrank back from the door.

"When did it become my duty to fix fakes?" Kicks whispered. He thought about running off and leaving everything as it was, but it was only a passing fancy. When Harriet had mentioned not wanting him to get hurt, Kicks had realized what he had felt at Rolf's house. That feeling that had disappeared… was guilt.

Steeling himself, Kicks reached forward and knocked twice on the door of the house. He put his paws in his pockets and whistled quietly, trying to stop himself from worrying too much. After a minute or two of waiting, Kicks knocked on the door again. A small light was on in the living room, so he hoped she was home. He picked up the box that he had brought along.

Finally, after another minute, the door flew open. "I am so sorry!" she exclaimed. "The hero just kicked down a door, so I thought that the knocking was me adding sound effects to my book."

Kicks smiled slightly. He knew what that was like. A stack of books sat in the corner next to his stool, and sometimes he thought that a customer was actually part of the book. "No worries, mate."

Kama wiped her forehead with the paw that held her book. "I'm so glad to hear that! …What's up?"

This was going to be hard. Kicks' muscles tensed involuntarily, then relaxed. What's the worst that can happen? he thought. "Kama, I sold you a fake pair of Kangarmani moccasins."

She blinked. Kicks understood the sucker punch he had just thrown. Kama probably felt just like he had when Redd had dropped that bit of information. She was probably trying to not yell-

"It's okay."

Kicks' breath caught in his throat. He stared at her, then rubbed his ears. Maybe a small bug had messed with his hearing. "What?"

Kama rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. Kicks wondered if she happened to be teasing him. "I said that it's okay."

She certainly wasn't teasing him. "But… I wasn't truthful, even though I didn't know it. And I called you 'chum' instead of 'mate,' and..." Kicks sighed. "I didn't do what I needed to do. I wasn't a good enough friend, and I fear… that I ended up hurting you."

The kangaroo's lips twitched slightly, then stilled. She watched Kicks, and when he finished talking, she still watched. She was silent for so long, watching him, that Kicks began to get even more nervous than before. Kama was going to end up yelling, but he didn't blame her. He would probably yell if he had done to himself what he had done to her. Oh, why did he even bother? She probably wouldn't have noticed any-

"It's okay, Kicks."

"…Why?"

Kama grinned. "I knew they were fakes the moment I saw them. But that didn't really matter, since they were still as comfortable as genuine Kangarmani moccasins. 'Chum' was a bit forward," she continued, shrugging slightly, "but it was a word. That's all. And being a good friend? I think you're a better friend than you realize." She nodded at the box he held. "You came out here, eleven o'clock at night, to try and fix what you thought you did. If that's not friendship, I don't know what is." Kama regarded Kicks thoughtfully. "I think you just need a little more humility, maybe. That's all."

Kicks looked away. She was wrong. He knew it. But… well, if she said so, he would just go with it. "Here," Kicks said, looking back at Kama and handing her the box. "I picked up a pair of genuine Kangarmani moccasins, size 13. And here's your money back," Kicks said, digging into his pocket once Kama had taken the box. "Two thousand, five hundred." He handed her a small bag of coins. "So… there you go. I hope it's- humility?"

"Yep," Kama answered, nodding. "That little thing you do? The 'cha-ching'? It's kind of… over-the-top, and not really humble. It's annoying," she confided.

He felt like he had received a present that promised both good and bad. She didn't hold anything against him… except his ritual. That was too much. That was asking far too much. There was no reason…

Julian and Poppy had winced.

Just like what happened when he said 'chum.'

Julian and Poppy had winced.

Did he really want to make others do that? A couple of other moments flooded into his mind. He saw Rolf wincing. He saw Elmer and Savannah wince. He saw Mayor Sissel, Wolfgang, Puddles, and Portia, one after the other, wince.

It was all because he said 'cha-ching.'

"Did… did you wince, Kama?" Kicks asked quietly. "When I said it?"

The kangaroo nodded slowly.

"You have forgotten what was left behind." That was what Katrina had said. Was this what she meant?

"I…" Kicks sniffed and wiped his eyes. "That's what I forgot. That's what I left behind… I didn't always do that… I knew… more. More humility."

Kama smiled sympathetically. "I know what that's like, Kicks." When Kicks looked up, she gave a slight nod. "I used to have more empathy, but as I grew up, I lost it." A few rain drops started falling from the sky, but Kicks took no notice.

"Did you ever get it back?" Kicks asked. He rubbed the top of his hat and, finding it wet, moved toward the open door so he could be under the roof.

"Eventually. It took a while, though," Kama replied, glancing worriedly out at the night. "I didn't have anyone who was willing to tell me what had happened. Once I figured it out myself… I had lost a lot of time."

Kicks looked over his shoulder. The rain was intensifying and well on its way to a monsoon. He looked back at Kama. "At least you found it again."

Kama laughed. "Well, I'm still working on it." She again glanced at the night, sheets of rain pounding the ground and wind beginning to shove the rain to the side. "You had better get home, Kicks. It looks terrible." She disappeared inside her house and reappeared with an umbrella. "Here. This will be better than nothing." Kama handed the umbrella to Kicks, who took it gratefully.

The skunk took a step into the night, then stopped. He looked back at Kama. "Thank you, Kama. That's what I had been missing, all this time." Kicks chuckled softly, almost so softly that Kama couldn't hear. "Katrina sure knows her fortune telling."

"Good luck, Kicks!" Kama shouted over the wind. Kicks waved.

"Thank you, mate! I promise I'll be more humble, awright?"

Kama grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Kicks."

Kicks waved again and hurried through the rain and wind, umbrella held close to his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kama wave back and close the door, and he smiled.

Finally, I found wh-

His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly strong gust of wind that almost pulled the umbrella out of his paws. Kicks stopped thinking about other things and concentrated on pushing through the storm, but it was hard. It was the most severe storm he had ever seen- or felt- in his entire life. Kicks wondered idly if the clouds were trying to wash Ebony Sands from east to west, from Main Street to the beach. It certainly seemed possible.

Tiny rivulets of water streaming over the pathway were interrupted only by Kicks stepping in their way. It was nearly impossible to see through the rain, but Kicks knew his way around the residential district well enough to know how to get home. The rivulets of water grew until the skunk was splashing through an unbroken river that ran over the path, and he started considering how waterlogged one's footpaws had to be to never dry out.

Kicks turned from the path into the smaller path that led to his house. The rain, which had a strange sense of fairness, was drenching his back now and ensuring that most of him was evenly saturated. The dirt on either side of the path was traveling in the opposite direction that Kicks was going, leaving ditches where it used to be level.

Up ahead, Kicks' house loomed into view. But something was wrong. Terror gripped Kicks and he started to run, heedless of any danger. His right footpaw landed at a slight angle and skidded out from under him, and he crashed, backward, to the watery cobblestones. The umbrella shot off into the air as he let go, but its flight was stopped by the scraggly pine tree that stood off to the side. Resting on his paws, Kicks looked at his house. He didn't even realize that his ankle was in pain as he stared.

His door was open, and rain was pouring into his house.

The door opened and Redd looked out, rubbing his eyes. "It's almost midnight," he grumbled, but any further complaint died when he saw Kicks standing on his doorstep. Redd's eyes widened at the disheveled, scratched, waterlogged skunk. "Come in," the fox said, holding the door open. Kicks limped forward, and Redd rushed to help him in.

Kicking the door closed, Redd helped Kicks to one of the tan couches that sat in the living room. He lowered the skunk until he was able to sit, then hurried off into a room that joined the living room. A couple of rustling noises later, the fox came back out with a load of towels, some bandages, and some pain-relief antiseptic ointment.

Kicks groaned quietly as Redd handed him a towel. The fox looked at Kicks quizzically, then noticed that he had accidentally jostled the skunk's ankle. "What happened?" Redd asked, walking to a small set of drawers. He pulled out a fabric bandage and came back to the couch.

"Slipped… on… the cobblestones…" Kicks muttered through gritted teeth.

Redd frowned. "I don't…" He shook his head and disappeared into the kitchen. Kicks wrapped the towel around him, vaguely aware of the muted sounds of talking coming from the kitchen. He huddled down in the towel, shivering.

He was starting to warm up by the time Redd came out of the kitchen. The fox looked more confident than he had before, and he handed Kicks another towel. As he opened his mouth to say something, there was a knock on the door. Redd jumped up, hurried to the door, and opened it. Isabelle swept in, carrying a small backpack.

"Oh, Kicks!" Isabelle exclaimed, kneeling down next to Kicks. "I heard from Redd. Let's see…" Isabelle looked at the scratches on Kicks' arms and face and clicked her tongue. "Antiseptic and bandages, Redd." Redd handed her the antiseptic ointment. "Kicks, do you feel well enough to put the ointment on yourself."

Kicks' eyes flicked to Isabelle. He tried to nod, but he couldn't. Isabelle rolled her eyes and began dabbing his scratches with the ointment. "Just like males," she murmured. "Think they can do everything."

"I… don't…" Kicks whispered.

Isabelle gave him a look that reminded him of Harriet. He hadn't thought that any other animal could pull off Harriet's incredulous stare. "I know enough males, Kicks, and they all think that way. Even Mayor Sissel thinks like that."

"What about his ankle?" Redd asked, gesturing at Kicks' right footpaw. The ankle was noticeably swollen and, through the fur, there was a tinge of angry red. "I didn't realize how bad it was when I called you."

"Do you have any ice?" Isabelle asked, examining Kicks' ankle. "This'll need to be wrapped, but I'm hesitant to do it without any ice handy."

"Hold on a moment," Redd said, hurrying into the kitchen. There was the sound of a door opening, then some solid clacks. The door closed, and Redd reappeared holding a bag of ice cubes. "Will this do?"

"I can… do…" Kicks tried again, but Isabelle shot him another look. He stopped, turning to his thoughts instead.

"Naw. I'll clean it up later. You might make it worse." That's what I told Kama. …Is Isabelle right? Do I try to do too much by myself?

"Lift the ankle gently," Isabelle instructed Redd. The fox did as she said, and she quickly wrapped Kicks' ankle in the fabric bandage. It was evident, from how efficiently Isabelle bandaged his ankle, that she had done this multiple times before. "How does it feel?" she asked Kicks.

"Kind… of tight…"

"Good. Put the ice on top of the bandage, Redd. I need to finish with these scratches."

The ice felt cool and soothing on Kicks' ankle, which had gradually gotten more painful until Isabelle wrapped it. The coldness of the ice seeped into his ankle and started to numb the pain. "Thank you…" Kicks mumbled as Isabelle dabbed ointment onto his arm.

Isabelle paused long enough to smile. "No problem, Kicks."

It's strange… I'm at the complete mercy of Isabelle and Redd, and they could take advantage of that. But they're not doing anything. They're… helping me.

"Hand me those bandages, Redd."

"Here you go."

Is that… humility? Is that more humility, I suppose? Realizing that you can't do everything yourself? …I think I get it. Not being proud. It's amazing how many ways you can be proud.

"All right, just this last one. I need a… medium-sized bandage."

"Isabelle, has anyone ever told you that you're fantastic?"

"Not today."

Maybe… I wonder if Kama meant more than gloating when I make a sale. Did she see more? …It wouldn't surprise me.

"That's it."

"Thanks for coming all this way, Isabelle. What's in the backpack?"

"Fruit bars. I was out on a nighttime hike around the cliffs to the east and had just gotten home when you called."

I need to do better. But how to start…

"Thank you…" Kicks said. He was startled to find that his voice was stronger than it had been, but he was grateful for that. "Thank you both for all of this."

Isabelle had stood up to talk to Redd, but she turned to face Kicks. The smile that crossed her face was brilliant and radiant. "Of course, Kicks. I can't let someone just… sit here and hurt."

Redd ambled over to stand next to Isabelle, exchanging a smile with her. Kicks caught the look in the fox's eyes and wondered if Isabelle knew. "It's cool, cuz." Redd shrugged, grinning. "I just didn't expect you to crash on my couch tonight. Like this."

Kicks couldn't stop the small laugh from escaping. "I didn't either, mate."

Isabelle came back to Redd's house during the daylight hours to check on Kicks' ankle. Redd let her in, and Kicks saw the look again. He was sure that Isabelle didn't know.

"Everything looks just fine," she said, standing up. "I'd suggest another couple of days to rest, but it's up to you."

Kicks glanced at his ankle. Even though the fabric bandage was still around it, he could tell that the swelling hadn't completely disappeared. "I'll rest, then."

"Wonder of wonders! A male who actually listens!" Isabelle exclaimed, but she winked at Kicks. He grinned and pretended to try and stand.

"On the other hand… Naw, just kidding." Kicks stifled a laugh at Isabelle's eye roll.

As Isabelle talked animatedly to Redd, Kicks leaned back into the tan couch. He had had the best night's sleep that he could remember on that couch. As he allowed himself to relax, Kicks closed his eyes.

"You sit in an empty shop. Elsewhere, animals and humans alike frequent establishments that they respect. Something is missing inside of you. An old hurt is unmasked. You have forgotten what was left behind."

A small smile passed over Kicks' face. It had been only a day and a half since Katrina had said that. He had figured out some of what she had said, but there was still one thing missing.

What did she mean? I know what was missing. I know what I left behind. A home… humility. Caring. But what hurts?

"What hurts?" he murmured. Isabelle heard.

"What do you mean, Kicks?"

Kicks opened his eyes and looked at Isabelle, confused. "What?"

"You said, 'What hurts?' What do you mean?"

"Oh." What should he say? He hadn't meant to say it out loud. But… maybe Isabelle could help. He nodded, then repeated the fortune out loud.

Isabelle's eyebrow was raised. "An old hurt? Well…" She turned to Redd, who shrugged helplessly.

"I have no idea, honestly. Wish I did, though." Redd ran a paw through the fur on his head. "Maybe something from Larkrich?"

Kicks' eyes widened. "Could it be… Katrina?" he whispered. "It would make sense… But that hasn't been bothering me…"

When Isabelle looked at Redd, all she received was a shake of his head. "Kicks?"

That seemed to snap Kicks back to reality. "Isabelle, when does Katrina come to town again?"

"Ah… today, actually. Mayor Sissel approved a fortune-teller's shop on Main Street, and it was just completed yesterday. Katrina will be at the opening ceremony."

"Redd, Isabelle, can you help me, please?" Kicks asked. "I need to get to the train station."

"Thank you all for a wonderful ceremony," Mayor Sissel said, standing on a small wooden box. "I hope you will all join me in welcoming Katrina to Ebony Sands!" He began clapping, and the assembled animals all joined in. Mayor Sissel allowed the applause to go on for a moment before he stopped clapping and held up his hands. "That concludes the ceremony, but feel free to frequent Katrina's shop! Now… have a wonderful day!"

The animals started dispersing as Kicks hobbled up to the train station, helped by Redd and Isabelle. Mayor Sissel was talking quietly with Katrina when Kicks stopped, breathing heavily. Katrina muttered something and Mayor Sissel turned. "Ah, Kicks, Isabelle, Redd! I had wondered where you three were."

"Mayor, may I speak with Katrina?" Kicks asked urgently. Mayor Sissel shrugged.

"It's up to Katrina."

Katrina regarded Kicks for a moment, then nodded. She made her way to a bench on the side of the train station. Isabelle and Redd helped Kicks to the bench. He sat down, and they walked over to where Mayor Sissel stood. Isabelle began explaining what had happened as Kicks glanced at Katrina.

The two were quiet for a moment. Kicks couldn't begin. How could he? There was so much to say, and at the same time, he didn't know what to say. Just as he was about to start talking, Katrina said quietly, "Is this about the fortune?"

Kicks leaned back so that the bench supported him more fully. "…Yes."

"Let me guess," Katrina continued, face impassive. "'An old hurt is unmasked.'"

"I don't know how you do that," Kicks said. He winced as his ankle throbbed. "What did you mean by that?"

Katrina didn't answer, but looked at Kicks. Her eyes were that same color that he had always loved. Nothing flicked through her eyes to betray what she was thinking. She didn't even twitch her lips or cheek or eyebrows.

"All I can think of is when you…" Kicks trailed off. He didn't want to relive this. If she had meant what he thought she meant, it certainly did hurt.

"When I turned you down," Katrina said. There was nothing in her voice, nothing in her eyes, nothing. What was she thinking?

"…Yes."

"Kicks, have you ever wondered why I turned you down?"

The skunk paused. No, he hadn't. He had always thought that she had a reason for doing it, but he'd never really considered the matter.

"No."

A small noise escaped from Katrina's mouth, and Kicks was shocked to recognize it as a laugh. "You were already becoming someone that you weren't really. That's why."

She started to say something else, but Kicks butted in. "I'm changing! Can we try-"

"I'm sorry, Kicks."

He felt like someone had thrown a jab to his stomach. It was all he could do to say, "What?"

Katrina leaned back and looked up at the cloudy sky. There was something about her, something about how she sat, that showed Kicks more about her personality than he had ever seen. That was when he saw what she meant.

"Kicks, my heart belongs to another. It always has."

"Who?" Kicks asked, though he had a sneaking suspicion as to the answer.

Katrina glanced at Kicks. "Redd."

That's what he had thought.

"But that was not what I meant in your fortune."

"Then…" Kicks let his thoughts coalesce before continuing. "What did you mean?"

The small noise escaped from Katrina again. "It is strange, isn't it? What we think something means often isn't the case, and what we think it doesn't mean is most usually the answer." Kicks tried to roll his eyes without Katrina seeing, but she did. "That was rather confusing. Perhaps it would be better to say that sometimes two things can apply to the same idea."

A small rain drop splashed on Kicks' nose. He frowned, and another rain drop landed on his knee.

"Hey, you two! Let's get home before the rain comes down any harder!" Mayor Sissel called to Katrina and Kicks.

Katrina stood as Redd walked over. The fox helped Kicks to his paws.

"Home…" Kicks murmured.

"What?" Redd asked, but Kicks wasn't paying attention to him. Katrina glanced at him and gave the smallest, most imperceptible nod Kicks had ever seen. Then she walked away into the rain, and Kicks watched her go, watched her disappeared slowly into the ever-increasing rain, with that gait he loved.

"Good luck, Katrina," Kicks murmured, quietly enough that Redd didn't hear. I wish you the best.

"Now, are you going to rest for another two days, like Isabelle suggested?" Redd inquired. Kicks nodded slowly. "Good. It's not wise to go against her suggestions."

Kicks stared at the point where Katrina had disappeared. He smiled. It came as no surprise that his heart didn't hurt.

"Cha-" Kicks stopped abruptly and looked apologetically at Mitzi. "Sorry about that. I'm trying. Anyway, have a great day, mate!"

Mitzi smiled understandingly and waved good-bye as she pushed through the crowded shop. As she exited, a purple bear and a green penguin entered and started looking around.

"Hey, Kicks? Can I have some help?" Fauna called above the crowd. Kicks walked over to her, limping slightly. His ankle hadn't fully healed yet, but Isabelle had let him get back on his paws after two days. As he passed the hat hanging on the wall, he smiled at the hole in it and thought about the new one on his head. It was a good hat.

"Size… 9, right?" Kicks questioned, looking at the shoes Fauna held.

"Do you have size 10?" Fauna asked sheepishly. Kicks rubbed his chin and nodded.

"I should… hang on a tick." Kicks made his way to the storage room door, then paused. "What were those again?" he called over the crowd.

"Tan sandals, from… Arias," Fauna replied.

Kicks waved to show that he had heard, then entered the storage room. He paused by the first stack of boxes and looked at it.

A letter lay on top of the stack. It was addressed to Kicks, from 'Mom and Dad.' It had traveled all the way from Faycrest.

He smiled at the letter, then grabbed a box with Arias tan sandals in size 10. He was looking forward to opening the letter, but that would have to wait.

I have to finish up here, then pass along the shoes that Tom ordered. Then there's the Ebony Sands Founding Day party, and the little get-together at Rolf's house. Oh, and Mayor Sissel wanted to know how things were going with my house restoration… glad Redd and Isabelle told him about that.

Kicks left the storage room and handed the box to Fauna. She tried to hand him seven hundred Bells, but he refused. "On the house today, mate." Kicks grinned and gestured to the hat he wore. Fauna looked at him for a moment, then smiled.

"All right, then. Take care, Kicks!" Fauna said. She was quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

"You sit in an empty shop. Elsewhere, animals and humans alike frequent establishments that they respect. Something is missing inside of you. An old hurt is unmasked. You have forgotten what was left behind."

Kicks smiled. He had made a mark in what was rapidly becoming his home. It wasn't missing anymore.

Finally, with help, Kicks had tracked down his parents. He had figured out the hurt.

And he had found the humility and caring he had left behind.

A/N: I wrote this for two reasons... well, one reason. I have never liked how Kicks was portrayed in New Leaf, so I wanted to watch him transform. This is really a story for me, and for my siblings, and for my mother. I also purchased the Kicks amiibo and wanted my siblings to be able to enjoy the amiibo, so I wrote this story. The title (and story idea, to some degree) is a tribute to "What We Left Behind" by Aviators.

I definitely had help from Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost in writing this.