Notes: /Title taken from Sun by Sleeping At Last, which also works as a soundtrack./

Finally writing a fic about Han that actually has him as a main player. Not sure where this idea came from, really, but it was only made more bittersweet by the fact that apparently, according to the guide book for Solo, Han has been on the streets for so long that he's not quite sure when his own birthday is.

It was only when the silence behind him stretched on that Han realised that he was alone.

"What do you think?" he called out cautiously, more to draw the attention to himself again rather than to keep the conversation going. That was most likely a lost cause, but they were short on time as it were; the less they wandered around the place, the better.

"You already know what I think." Qi'ra didn't move, so Han approached her instead. "It's too much. They'll never fall for it and you can't lie to save your life. Literally."

"It's not a lie if I'm planning on following through eventually." She was looking at a necklace, he could see now; one of those overly long ones that seemed to be everywhere around them these days, hanging off of anyone who could find the money for them. Its fine silvery threads glittered between her fingers and there was no mistaking the yearning in her eyes even as she tried to mask it with mild curiosity. "Are you buying that?"

"Of course not." It was an obvious answer, but it still made him far sadder than he had any right to be on someone else's behalf. It happened every time he witnessed someone go through the inevitable acceptance of the inability to get even the smallest things they wanted – the powerlessness that came with the realisation that they couldn't afford anything but the bare necessities. "I would never think of it. Not even if this insane idea of yours actually succeeds."

"So you do think there's a chance." The marketplace was buzzing with countless voices and it was the most privacy they'd had in days. Might as well push the topic once again before going back to what passed as home this week.

"I think that the entire idea is too ambitious and that you're going to get yourself killed." Qi'ra's free hand cupped his cheek, her eyes fixed on him in that resolute way that always made his heart stumble over itself. "And that thought terrifies me."

Han made a futile attempt to clear his throat. He never quite knew what to say when she was being this honest. "I'm not going to get myself killed. At any point, but especially not tomorrow. It's your birthday."

"And?"

"And it's an important occasion!" Han couldn't believe they were having this conversation again. "It should be acknowledged somehow. With something that isn't death, that is."

"You're right, celebrations are crucial to our survival," Qi'ra nodded with that little smile that usually meant that she liked what he was saying but didn't approve of it. "It must be really important, considering that not a living soul in the universe cares about it."

"I do."

"Yes." She let go of the necklace, much more decisive than she had been a moment ago. "Not a living soul in the universe but you."

"What matters is, tomorrow you'll officially be an adult." Suddenly struck by an idea, Han gently pushed his friend towards the exit. "It's time everyone here started taking you – us – seriously. You go tell Proxima that we'll have her crodium tomorrow; I'll catch up."

"Han."

"I will," he insisted, already putting the plan in motion in his head. He could start tonight, even, if given enough time; all he needed were resources. "See you there."

Qi'ra still looked torn, but gave a curt nod in response. "See you."

Letting go of her hand was always a bit of a sacrifice. Han would never admit it – it would make him sound far more devoid of hope than he liked to think he was and there was always the chance that she'd laugh at him for thinking of the most reckless plots possible and then worrying about the aftermath – but the feeling was there nevertheless. He watched her go and Qi'ra quickly disappeared through the crowd, just moments before he turned back to the display to his right.

He'd never done this before. Pickpocketing passersby and hotwiring their vehicles was one thing – Han had always rationalised it by doing it only to the right people; the ones who wouldn't really be affected by the theft of whatever valuable he'd managed to get his hands on. They'd never have to explain their losses to Lady Proxima and her minions and with the victims he usually picked, their loss was likely an inconvenience more than anything else.

This, on the other hand— this was a different thing entirely. He couldn't say the same thing about the shop owners in this part of the city. He knew far too many of them; knew how hard it was to get anything as intricate as the jewellery spread on this stand and how much harder still it was to sell it.

But it was her birthday. And it wasn't just that. The plan he'd been describing to Qi'ra had been weeks in the making and while she'd been right – it would be difficult to get Proxima's potential clients to trust him enough to agree to what he was offering – he'd suddenly realised that he didn't have to ask them empty-handed.

Han's eyes darted around the marketplace. No one was paying attention to him, just like he'd expected, but suddenly every glance in his direction felt much more loaded than it ever had before. He ran his fingers over the necklace. It was heavy, heavier than he'd expected – heavy as silver was, in his experience. And the rings he could see a little to the left, with their yellowish glow... if it was all genuine gold, the possibilities were far too many to ignore.

He would give some of them to the children. They'd split them amongst themselves, bring them to the people who mattered – this one decision could feed them for weeks. Of course, the people in the shops around him deserved to eat too, but it wasn't the same. Everyone working here had a roof over their heads and families who could give them a hand. They had nothing. It was going to be just this once. Just this once, and then never again.

Han could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he reached for the small box right in front of him and barely forced himself to stay composed when a man shouldered past him to get the shopkeeper's attention.

It was fine, he was fine. Han always tried to look as unremarkable as possible when they went out in public like this; sometimes it was almost as if he was invisible. That thought did nothing to calm his racing heart and trembling fingers, but he managed somehow, stuffing the box with the rings in his back pocket as smoothly as he could. The consequences of getting caught were nothing when compared to the prospect of Proxima learning that he'd let himself get caught. That thought provoked the kind of fear that served to paralyse Han instead of making him jumpy – a welcome change, for once.

And that left him with only one target in sight.

It had been a silly idea to begin with – Qi'ra had been right and scrumrats couldn't really afford to hold a celebration around their special occasions – but it was worth it in the long run. He could give half of the gold to the children, the rest to the Ala brothers to pacify them and gain their trust, and the necklace would serve its purpose as well. Qi'ra would have forever to look at it now if she wanted to. She'd wear it hidden under her clothes, likely, so that no one would be able to yank it off of her and she would give him her most disapproving smile, and— Han was almost giddy just thinking about it.

It was worth it. For her, for them— he would do nearly anything, he realised. Anything that could not only help them finally get away, but make the life they currently had even slightly easier to bear.

Han took hold of the silver chain, wrapped it around his still-shaking hand, and broke into a run.