Alibaba always holds his hand when they're running. Running away from danger, to be specific. Hakuryuu doesn't recall when it started, only that every time he's terrified, every time he fears for his life; a firm grip catches on to his hand, and he's not so scared anymore.

Hakuryuu constantly chases after Alibaba, a head of blonde hair just a few steps ahead of him. But he never catches up, not to the ridiculously kind boy with a smile drawing people, friends, to him like a magnet. Not to the Third Prince of Balbadd who faced an entire government and saved his country. Not to the determined boy who refused to kill his best friend, even after he betrayed him, even though it would have been the easier way to save his people. No, Hakuryuu isn't honest enough, isn't kind enough, his intentions not pure enough. He can never match up to Alibaba.

But he keeps chasing, steps slowly faltering. And as he sits outside in the warm Sindrian breeze, gazing at the unfamiliar stars above him, he thinks he should stop, he wants to give up. He doesn't. A warm body sits down beside him, he doesn't speak, and they sit leaning against each other, never looking away from the stars. A comforting hand, calloused from years of wielding a sword, closes around his.

And he keeps chasing.