Summary: Apollo and Clay, chewing the fat in the days of their youth.

... I reaaaaaally hate physics, right now. And writing fluff to vent kind of sort of failed...


"It's so weird, isn't it?"

"Hm? What is?"

"That practically no one else our age knows what they want to do with their lives. I mean, I want to be an astronaut, and you want to be a lawyer. Everyone else our age just worries about, I don't know, social status."

"Not really. There're a lot of adults out there who still don't know what they want."

"I feel sorry for them."

"Me, too."

"..."

"... Clay?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever wish you could be a star in the sky?"

"An actual star? No, not really. Then I'd end up sitting in one place! That kind of defeats the purpose of exploring space, you know!"

"That's true..."

"Why? Do you?"

"... A little. Because when you become an astronaut, I'll be stuck here on Earth, and we won't be able to keep in contact. That's why I want to be a star, so that you can come see me when you're in space, and when you're not, all you have to do is look up and I'll be there."

"... Heh. I wish I could say the same."

"..."

"But you'll be stuck down here the whole time, so it won't be any fun for you if I was a star, either. So I guess I want to be a law; even if something happens and you don't get to be a lawyer, you'll still have to deal with me as long as you live!"

"Or as long as you don't get repealed."

"And as long as you don't supernova."

"..."

"..."

"We'll be friends forever, won't we?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't we?"

"I had a bad feeling, just now. Promise me you won't let anything happen to you until you've reached your dream, okay?"

"I promise, so long as you don't let anything happen to you, either."

"I promise."


Dec. 18, 2027, Courtroom No.4

Beside the moon in the daytime sky, a lone star twinkled faintly.

(You promised, Clay... You promised...)