Notes: Sorry about being unclear in previous notes but don't worry, this is going to end with Duo and Heero together - by 'backseat' I meant it's not going to be the center of the story's emotional heart, if that makes sense. :)

Additionally, I firmed up the timeline for this story and realized I needed to tweak the previous two chapters a bit. Mostly I trimmed and edited a handful of words, but one or two conversations do take a significantly different route, so if you're curious you might want to reread. :)

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"Oaf - !"

Thu-thud.

"Nngh - ah - "

THUNK.

The familiar, rhythmic sounds of a fight had been a sort of reverse lullaby, luring Duo awake gently.

"Pace yourself."

The voice is a sudden, quick shove into consciousness. Duo's eyes fly open and he's out of bed, staring out the window at the backyard below. Duo scrambles for one wild second, all of his thoughts amounting to a flailing Heero(?) before yesterday's events catch up with him.

Heero and Wufei are sparring in the early morning light, and it's immediately apparent just which body was making the majority of the thuds and thunks as it was thrown against the ground. Wufei is covered in dirt, sweating, scowling in frustration. Without his trigger phase he's obviously nowhere near his usual strength or skill and Heero's easily pulling apart his defenses, knocking him down with movements that are actually slow and telegraphed enough for even Duo to dodge. Duo watches Wufei topple forward over Heero's leg, landing hard on his chest, whumping into the ground.

Heero waits patiently for Wufei to pick himself back up, and resumes the match.

Duo settles in to watch, resting his chin in his palm. It's not like Wufei's doing horribly. He's light on his feet, bouncing quickly away from Heero's kicks and swipes, but his hits obviously don't hold near enough impact, his reach is severely limited, and when Heero gets a hit in -

"Ah - " his feet are swept out from under him, and he lands on his backside with a startled cry.

Heero grunts, which apparently means something to Wufei because he nods and doesn't attempt to stand.

Ah, they're taking a break.

Heero settles down in the dirt, breathing normally, looking almost bored. Wufei sits beside him, entire body rising and falling with each panting breath.

"We should make plans for Kyoto," Wufei says after a beat of silence, and Duo stands up straighter in surprise. Where'd he hear about Kyoto? A spectacularly good guess from Heero, maybe . . . ?

"Is that the next location?" Heero asks. Or not.

"Yes, and we should head there today. We're too close to the shuttleport," Wufei says, importantly. "They were probably searching through the night and it's only a matter of time - "

"We'll lay low as long as possible. Conserve our energy." Heero stands, ignoring Wufei's scowl. "Stretch."

Wufei's scowl grows darker, watching Heero head inside the house, but he doesn't argue, climbing to his feet. Wipes off his shirt. Starts going through a series of movements Duo's seen before, during various long term Preventer missions, though they're a little clumsier than Duo remembered.

Duo frowns.

The Preventers have official Worst Case Scenario, Endgame-type take down orders for all their special agents, and Duo made it his business to read the ones on Agents 01 through 05; Quatre's recommended an immediate full frontal rush and isolated confinement, not allowing him any time to prepare. Duo's and Trowa's recommended surrounding and overpowering. Heero and Wufei's were strict: sniper only, and Wufei's had this huge warning: KILL ZONE 10FT. Any hostile, any agent, within ten feet of Wufei was considered lost, the walking dead. It was a warning to agents: if you got that close to Chang Wufei, there wasn't going to be any rescue. It had made Duo smile at the time, and watching Wufei now, struggling to complete this routine, he's. . . .

Duo's not sure what he's feeling right now, but he's feeling something. Annoyed isn't right. Tired. He feels tired. Tired of faceless organizations who feel like it's their right to fuck around with anyone within their reach. Duo's never claimed to be an expert at reading people but the importance Wufei put on the ability to fight was pretty obvious, it was a skill that might have rooted his entire sense of self, his whole identity, but whatever. Russian Assholes wanted to jerk him around, twist him into some brand new shape, so they did.

Heero's back.

The door shuts beneath Duo, and Heero walks back into the yard, tossing Wufei a bottle of water. It hits Wufei's palm, then hits the ground before he can get a proper grip on it. Hands too small.

They pick the match back up, but it quickly becomes apparent that what Duo caught before was a warm up.

"Ah - !" Wufei bites down on his cry of pain. Heero is moving fast and hard, dodging all of Wufei's strikes, retaliating mercilessly, knocking Wufei back then hitting twice before he makes it to the ground.

Duo frowns. This can't be necessary. This is ruthless, the kind of ruthless Heero was surely put through as a child and Duo can't figure out for the life of him why he'd want to inflict that on anyone else. After a strike to the head, Wufei stumbles back dazedly, keeping in a fighter's stance but he's obviously out of it. Heero watches, his own stance straight up bored, then falling on Wufei again once he's back in the game. Knocking him back again, and this time Wufei attempts to block it, raising both arms to cross over his head but Heero smashes through it easily, throwing Wufei to the dirt at the end of it.

Jesus.

"'Morning!" Duo says, strolling hyper-casually into the yard. They don't stop, or even grunt to acknowledge his presence.

Wufei's wiping at his face, expression dark, desperate. Obviously struggling to keep his head above water. Failing when Heero smashes his knee into his little side, sending him stumbling.

"Jeez! That had to hurt. What'd he do to piss you off, Heero? Piss in your corn flakes?" It's a false kind of chipper that even Heero can read through by now.

"It's training," Heero says, eerily monotone, watching Wufei clear his head, catch his breath.

"Seems more like a beating from where I'm standing," Duo says, just barely letting the cold edge underline his words. "Maybe try taking it a little easier."

Heero doesn't even bother to answer. Maybe what he does next is to prove some demented point to Duo. One hit to Wufei's unguarded solar plexus, the air rushes out of Wufei in an awful sounding cry, and he drops to the ground, curled around his stomach.

"Fuck, man!" It's Duo who yells, Duo who says anything either way, or does anything – Heero pulls back, but keeps quiet.

"I'm fine," Wufei snarls, all baby tiger, pushing himself away from Duo's reach, still wincing in pain and curled protectively around his stomach.

"Like hell," Duo mutters, but lets him scramble free. "That's your definition of easier?"

Heero actually seems somewhat disquieted – maybe he expected Wufei to be able to dodge that. But he stands his ground, crossing his arms defensively as an answer.

Duo scoffs. "Doesn't look like any kind of training I've ever seen before. This how they did it back on L5, Wufei?" But Wufei doesn't meet his gaze. "That's a no. So, why – "

"It can't be helped!" Wufei snaps, trying so hard for that arrogance, but pain has him grimacing. "I refuse to be a risk on the field."

"Well, that's something you'll – wait. What? Risk on the field . . . ?" Duo stares. "You – go on missions? You're active?"

Wufei just stares, eyes flitting toward Heero for direction.

"Une sends you – ? With who? What partner would be crazy enough – ?" But why did Duo even bother asking?! He levels his gaze to Heero.

Heero is not ashamed. He stands a little straighter. "He's an agent – "

Duo's opening his mouth to interrupt, when all three pilots freeze.

The soft but impossibly distinct noise of weight shifting from one boot to the other.

Hostiles.

It came toward the side of the farmhouse, near the barrel, still full of Wufei's used bath water.

Previous argument immediately cast aside, Heero looks to Duo, then to the right – gesturing for Duo to flank on that side while Heero and – Wufei will take the left?

Duo waves both arms no! at that, pointing directly at Heero, who can take the left on his own. He then points Wufei to the crops, which will provide cover for him while they take care of the hostiles.

Heero's jaw tightens and as he stabs an arm out, a sweeping motion blocking Wufei's path to the crops – No. We shouldn't separate.

They're running out of time, they'll only have coverage for so long if the hostiles are rounding the side of the house. Duo rolls his eyes and goes to the right without waiting for Heero's approval. He hasn't been a team player in a long, long ass time.

He doesn't get a good look at the hostile's face, the guy is in full on gear from head to toe, which would suck if Duo hadn't cut his teeth fighting men in Libras and Leos. Duo's nowhere near Heero or Wufei's level in hand to hand, but he's quiet, quick and his moves tend to be surprising, bold and stupid enough that it sends most footmen into a useless tizzy.

"Hiya!" he says, popping up on their surprise visitor. He grabs the steaming hot muzzle of a rifle that fires blindly in surprise, yanks it toward the ground and slams his foot into the side of the guy's neck. "Bye-a!"

He's got the rifle in his hands before the guy hits the ground, whirling around to see how many more had been flanking the guy. Four, and they pull back when Duo starts firing in their direction with deadly accuracy – he makes contact at least twice.

"Ow," Duo says, blowing at his stinging, reddened palm, falling back to Heero and Wufei. "Saw nine, but there's probably more. There's a private airfield about a mile off, through the wheat. I say we go for it."

Wufei glances toward Heero for his cue, still trying to brush off that hit to the stomach. An active agent, Duo thinks, his rage spiking. But he's brought back to task by Heero's short nod. Speed over stealth, they bolt into the field and start booking it.

Unfortunately, it doesn't take the agents long to regroup, and they're not particularly interested in a wild goose chase through the wheat fields.

"Hear that?" Duo pants out as they run. He doesn't need a response, it's impossible to miss, and the sound, too, is rising. The snapping, popping, building to a dull roar.

They're torching the field.

Duo and Heero start running in earnest now, easily overtaking Wufei, who Heero grabs for as they run past, swinging him up, never slowing down, the movement fluid and effortless.

Duo looks to his side, where the dirt road cuts through the field. They're not there yet, but Duo's certain the hostiles will be driving up that road, then cutting them off on the other side, before they can reach the airfield.

Heero's faster than Duo – he can tell he's holding himself back to keep them from being separated.

"Keep moving!" Duo hollers, straining to be heard over the sound of the blaze. Heero doesn't nod, but immediately his stride practically doubles, faster, propelling himself forward at what seems like an inhuman speed.

There's not much time to admire it - the sound of the fire is growing, and Duo can start to smell it in the air, taste it, knows he's breathing it. He can see the fire in his mind's eye, crawling threw the field at the same speed as Heero, impossible to outrun. A primal part of himself is starting to grow anxious, feeling cornered, feeling his resources dwindling, but to a former child soldier, this is nothing more than a tickle at the back of his mind, a fear that's easily identified, cataloged, and set aside, a process he perfected many, many years before. Duo turns, cuts across the field, whipping through the wheat stalks.

There's a cheap, split rail fence separating the field from the dirt road, which is great, cause Duo is alone, and unarmed, and is going to have to get pretty creative if he's going to slow down a convoy of armored vehicles.

It might not have worked as well if the agents had been driving carefully, but of course they aren't, they're roaring down the road at full speed and the large chunk of wood tossed at their windshield is too fast to break and avoid. It plows through the glass on the driver's side, sticking out awkwardly as the car swerves, and at that speed, a swerve pretty much leads immediately to rolls. The front end of the car is blocking the road, and when the second car, following way too close to be safe, plows into it, they end up flipping, skidding to a stop on their side, effectively blockading the road for the rest of the cars.

They're forced to break, skidding wildly as they do, plowing into the fences on either side of the road. They're at a cold stop and that has to be enough time for Duo, Heero and Wufei to get off the ground, and out of Jersey.

Supplies have sprayed across the dirt road from the first upended car. Duo pauses just a moment to gather what looks like a Preventor-grade holster, delighted to find the guns inside are fully loaded as he hops back over the fence, back into the field, running.

Yikes.

It's not in his imagination anymore, he can feel the heat of the fire now, and he reconsiders that carefully compartmentalized fear of the fire from before: This might be serious shit.

He can feel the first cough tickling at the back of his throat and wants to hold it in, suppress it, not give off any unnecessary clues to his location, but he's not Heero. He's fit, sure, but this is a lot of running in any circumstance, and holding his breath is impossible longer than four strides. He finally lets it out, a hoarse, barking cough, and hears an immediate echo. Then another – shit – the hostiles have abandoned their cars in favor of a rather suicidal foot pursuit into a blazing, smoking wheat field.

Covering the lower half of his face with his arm, Duo does his best to smother his cough, trying to speed up, ignoring the instinct screaming to run along the outside of the field, he moves deeper in, into the thicker smoke, trying to draw the quickest path from his current position to the airfield, ignoring the random BLAMs of blind gunshots behind him, the hostile agents apparently hoping to get off a lucky shot.

He's stumbling, eyes watering, by the time he makes it to the end of the field, barely able to hop the fence, practically falling over the other side of the chainlink fence of the airfield property.

"Shit," he wheezes once landing on the other side, swaying a bit, trying to brace himself on his knees. Clear his lungs and his vision, blinking furiously. "Shit," he gasps again, and forces himself to stumble forward. Heero. Where's Heero?

This is the rear of the lot, and the area's empty but for Heero's familiar figure, crouched at the hanger's door. He's obviously fiddling with the lock and Duo's thankful Heero decided to have the patience to try for lock picking rather than brute force. There's no security on site, but there is floodlights, screaming alarms and a lot of attention.

Duo's hurrying forward, scanning the surrounding area for a smaller figure, possibly keeping watch – Duo pauses. There's gunfire.

. . . Where's Wufei?

Duo turns, now hurrying in the opposite direction. Hoping back over the chainlink fence, toward a sudden drop that Heero and Wufei must have climbed to get to the airfield -

Oh, God.

There are two men who have planted their feet, coughing too hard to aim properly at their target, but doing their best. Their target clings, apparently paralyzed with fear, to the side of the wall. Wufei's almost directly below Duo, and he can see the white knuckled grip on the knotted roots, the way he curls a little tighter with each gunshot.

Duo yanks both guns from his holsters and mows down the agents, popping them off one after another, their bodies dropping to the ground, limp and lifeless just as easy as that. He waits for a beat, but there's no movement. Not from the bodies down there, and not from Wufei, still clinging to the wall.

"You're clear!" Duo calls down after a moment, and his throat protests with a fit of violent coughs. He can see through watering eyes that Wufei isn't respond. He's shaking.

Duo bites down hard on his moan of sympathy, knowing it's not welcome here. He wipes his eyes dry irritably and quickly scales back down the incline until he reaches Wufei.

"Hey, Wufei - "

"I'm not a coward!"

Wufei's eyes are shut tight, head tucked down, cheek pressed hard into the dirt. He's refusing to meet Duo's gaze or even allowing Duo to see his face.

"Man, I already know that."

"And we - we should've left for Kyoto!" Wufei says, obviously trying to sound accusing, but his voice is so unsteady.

"I know," Duo says. He wants to touch Wufei, who is still trembling, and Duo knows it's probably out of shame just as much as it is fear. "That was a mistake. But it's safe for us to move now. Those guys are gone."

"I know they are!" Wufei bites out.

He doesn't move.

"Here," Duo says, and just goes for it: wraps an arm around Wufei's middle and starts to pull him to his side. Wufei clings harder, resisting just for a moment, but then his hands start to loosen, accepting Duo's help -

"Schastlivogo puti."

The tension in Wufei's body vanishes. He lifts his head, and his expression's blank. He immediately begins climbing the wall, moving effortlessly. Mechanically.

Duo glances up at Heero, who doesn't bother to wait at the top, already returning to the hanger.

x

Longhorn 255 is a nice enough jet, it's civilian rather than military which makes it a little flimsier than the stuff Duo's used to, and the entire cabin shakes during take off, stabilizing only once they've reached thirty thousand feet and autopilot's flipped on. But it's made for the spoiled and rich, so they'll have showers and beds on their way to Kyoto, which is a luxury Duo's only had on space-faring ships.

For the record, Duo is not mad because Heero lost track of his partner. Duo's been on enough missions that have gone straight to hell to know how quickly a simple, straightforward plan can unravel. Sometimes, your partner is supposed to be covering you in the watchtower, but come to find he's actually undercover as a guard and arresting you, and neither of you did anything wrong. Sometimes one partner has his hands free and has to climb to the top in order to take out an immediate threat, and the remaining partner has to fend for himself for a minute or two before catching up. It's why agents have to be so quick on their feet.

It's why five year olds shouldn't be agents.

"What was that?" Duo asks, darkly. "Is this just a normal day for the two of you? You beat on him in your down time – "

"We were sparring," Heero says.

"Look at him," Duo says. Wufei straightens when Duo points wildly at him, like it's an insult he'll have to physically defend against.

Heero's not giving anything, though, shoulders back and confident. "Getting him back in shape is top priority. He's not going to rely on trigger phrases to defend himself."

"Defend himself? Am I the only sane one on this plane? Heero – look at him! He shouldn't be going on missions to begin with – "

"I am still an agent – "

Duo whirls around and stares hard at Wufei, and the ridiculous protest dies on his lips, which twist into a scowl.

"There's no reason for him to be risking his life when he's this compromised! The war's over, Heero!" He's wanted to say it for years. Years, he's yelled that to Heero in his mind's eye, in imaginary arguments. The fact that he's apparently gained a few more inches on Heero is only more satisfying as the smaller man's expression darkens, weathering Duo's rage.

"There's no reason to be training like we're gonna be climbing into Gundams tomorrow," Duo says. "There's no reason to trigger him when we're both there, as long as – " Duo has to physically restrain himself from finishing that with 'as long as we're not dumb enough to leave him alone,' pointedly not looking over at Wufei himself. Duo clears his throat. "You know what? I'm pulling rank. Une put me on this, it's my mission, and if you want to tag along you're gonna have to follow my lead."

Who the hell even put Heero in charge of a severely compromised agent? That was just cruel to the both of them. Heero has his strengths: human intuitiveness is not one of them - ha, wow, Wufei's filthy, unkempt hair. Of course, it's exactly what Heero's brand of care looks like: bare minimum. There's bitterness in this thought, frustration, enough to get satisfaction from this visible confirmation of Heero's failure.

Duo might be using Wufei as an excuse for past frustrations. Doesn't matter. The point still stands, and it's appropriate! A bruised, neglected child kept in a semi-catatonic state for a good percentage of a year, Duo can't come up with a more accurate embodiment for their failed relationship. And Duo's learned his lesson, he's not going to keep his mouth shut, twiddle his thumbs and hope.

"Wufei, you are not an active agent in this mission. You're not taking any risks, you're not going anywhere on your own, and you're not being triggered again."

"I can handle – "

"This is my mission. You are my mission. That makes it my call, and you, Chang, can go wait in the bathroom for me to start stitching you back together."

"I wasn't injured," Wufei mutters, but leaves for the bathroom anyway. Possibly just to escape this awful argument.

The bathroom door slides shut, and a long silence follows.

Heero is leaning against the wall beside the tiny kitchen space. He's staring forward listlessly, reminding Duo of a dog that knows its been scolded, tail between his legs, but isn't sure why. Duo . . . Duo starts to feel a little bad. It's so easy to make him into a monster. Into the bad guy. He never tries to sugarcoat his actions, make them any kind of pleasant before shoving them down your throat. But.

He looks frustrated, and confused. And so, so young.

"My mission," Heero's sudden voice is a surprise. "Is to keep Agent 05 in Preventer custody. This is a long term mission. It's impractical to leave him unarmed and unable to defend himself."

Duo closes his eyes, rubbing at a spot between his eyebrows. "I get what you're saying, but there's nothing to gain from pushing him this hard right now, when he's like this."

Heero blinks. Turns that gaze on Duo, confusion gone. "When?"

"What?"

"When is an appropriate time to push him, Duo?" Is that . . . annoyance?

"He obviously still has the basic knowledge," Duo says, shrugging, a little disarmed by the use of his name and not going to let it show. "Once this all gets straightened out and he's the right age again, he probably won't need that much pushing."

"You didn't read the report."

Duo is smart enough to follow that line to its logical conclusion, but doesn't want to. Desperately does not want to. "What do you mean?"

"It's irreversible," Heero says.

"What, you mean – he's stuck? This age?"

"He's aging at a normal rate. But that's all he'll do," Heero says.

"Still – that doesn't change anything," Duo says, but is that true . . . ? This isn't a simple escort mission anymore, and it never was for Heero. "You wouldn't expect Relena to defend herself – "

"He's not going to be captured again," Heero says, a bit suddenly, as though Duo had suggested just handing him over to avoid the hassle.

Duo backs off, stunned. Heero's hands are in fists.

"Relena has guards. If she was threatened we would know. Everyone would know."

But Wufei only has Heero, and what little self-defense he has left.

Duo had been so thoroughly in the headspace of their failed relationship – hadn't thought about Heero's feelings – it suddenly occurs to Duo for the first time that, according to that report, Heero was the first person to find Wufei. Heero doesn't have a lot of buttons, but he's willing to bet that seeing an old comrade in arms made so weak and vulnerable probably hit pretty hard.

Duo remembers Wufei's little forearms beaten a red that morning, red skin that will probably turn a rainbow of blues and purples and yellow bruises before they're healed. Heero-brand kindness. Jesus.

"He's not going to be captured again," Duo agrees, slowly. "I'm going to make sure of that. That's my mission now. But we're not triggering him again. Agreed, Agent 01?"

Heero grunts, retreating into the front of the jet, and Duo knows the only reason he doesn't argue is because of that technicality. That Duo is, temporarily, the team lead.

It'll do for now.

Feeling like he just went toe to toe against the Louisville Lip, Duo grabs a bag of ice from the cramped kitchen space before walking down the hall. Ready for round two.

"You need this bathroom more than I do," Wufei says as soon as the door opens. "You're filthy. Were you trying to camouflage yourself in soot?"

Duo considers himself in the mirror. He's rubbed a few spots clean on his face and hands, but is, otherwise, admittedly filthy. "Hey, whatever works, right?"

"You didn't actually – did you?" Wufei asks, peering at Duo suspiciously.

"No," Duo says, unable to hold in the laugh. "There wasn't time for camo. Or anything but running. So, I know you're actually fine, but could you do me a favor and lift up your shirt? I just want to see for myself."

Duo is floored when Wufei goes along with this without so much as a put upon sigh. Where is this agreeableness coming from? Where's the stinging, festering wound of the Long Clan Prince's pride? Duo is tempted to believe that Wufei actually agreed with Duo back there, had been wanting to say it himself but trapped by his own pride and Heero's unrelenting expectations. But there's more of an oblivious air to Wufei than a relieved one, as though he simply isn't thinking about Duo's orders, or the argument that happened just outside the door. Are children this young just easily distracted . . . ?

Whatever the reason, Wufei simply pulls his shirt up and off, revealing the damage caused by Heero's attentions that morning across his skinny little chest.

Duo whistles, and reaches out to test the bruised skin, but Wufei immediately recoils.

"Maxwell! Clean yourself first!"

He snorts, considers teasing, but goes to the sink, rinsing off as best he can. He is again surprised by Wufei, who has moved to his knees on the toilet in order to assist, mopping up Duo's forearms with a damp hand towel and deeply solemn expression. It's actually a little more of a hindrance than help, but Duo's too surprised, and a little touched, to say so.

"Your face, too," Wufei says, with that same solemn little frown, and does his best to wipe Duo's face clean, unaware of the dribbling mess his soaked towel is making, of the sink, and the floor, and Duo's already dirty shirt. It should be intensely annoying, really, Wufei's touch is clumsy and unhelpful, basically leaving behind nothing but a smeared mess across Duo's face when Wufei decides he's done.

Duo forcibly swallows down how touched he actually is by this gesture, because he knows, in Wufei's mind, it would be for entirely the wrong reasons.

"Thank you," is what he actually says, and Wufei nods very selflessly, now allowing Duo to inspect the worrying lump on his ribs.

"Looks like it's just sprained," Duo says after a gentle but thorough probing. There's some dramatic bruising, but Wufei is in very little pain, and there's no sign of an actual break when he presses on either side of his swollen flesh.

"Here," Duo hands him the bag of ice, and Wufei presses it against his side wordlessly. "Now get out of here so I can take a proper shower."

Twenty minutes later, skin rubbed clean of the soot and hair damp, Duo settles into the cabin of the jet – the seats are some kind of fine, soft fabric that feels so expensive Duo gets a stab of vindictive glee as he rings his hair out over the empty seat beside him in order to start the tedious process of re-braiding his hair. Wufei, settled across from him, looks out the window.

"So I won't be fixed."

"Hunh?" Duo asks, peering up through a curtain of hair at Wufei, who's poking idly at the bag, which is now on the armrest instead of against his side.

"What Yuy told you – I'm stuck like this," Wufei said, jaw tight.

"Not stuck," Duo says, and is happy for the excuse to fall back into his hair for a moment. He had been wondering when the foot would drop. "You're already older than you were yesterday."

Wufei sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

"But yeah, this is less temporary than I was thinking. And I guess that sucks," Duo says. "But right now we should stay focused on the mission."

"I'm not part of the mission, remember?" Wufei says, darkly. He's looking at Duo out the corner of his eye, and his profile, his expression, is suddenly so goddamn regal it's like a slap to the face.

"Point," Duo says, can't think of anything else. Can't offer an apology, can't pretend like he understands.

So he just finishes braiding his hair, then looks out the window.

Nothing left to do but wait for Kyoto.

He doesn't want to think about after that.