Failure.

Shorter cussed as he gulped another beer. It was probably a shitty way of handling things. Drinking got him into this mess. And now he was drinking to deal with it. Or really, to forget it.

He had fuzzy memories of talking to Yut-Lung, but not of what happened afterwards. How did Yut-Lung manage to wheedle that out of him? Was he really so shitty a human being that he'd blurt out his best friend's secret, the one he only knew because they took a road trip to Cape Cod two summers ago and Ash's dad told him, to a snake he barely knew?

When he met Ash, they were both in juvie. And Ash was as standoffish as ever, but Shorter didn't hesitate to tease him about looking like the angel in Nadia's Christmas card. And in some ways Ash was like that angel. Someone he trusted. And now someone he betrayed. Was he really some kind of Judas? How would I have done that? Why? I don't want to be capable of this.

Everyone knew they could rely on him. He had kids looking up to him for that reason. It was one of the few things about him, besides his sense of humor of course, that his parents used to praise about him.

"When you have nothing else," his father would say. "You have your integrity. And the people you trust in will trust you."

I failed, Dad.

Shame pressed into his shoulders. And then a hand joined, squeezing his shoulder.

Shorter whirled around.

"Chill," said Ash, dropping down onto the stool next to him. Eiji delicately pulled out a stool behind Ash, sitting. "Knew you'd be here."

Shorter's grip tightened around the mug. His jaw tightened. Even if he had words to say, he didn't know if he could fling them into reality. His body seemed to be trying to imprison him from the inside, bones and muscles injected with guilt, stiffening like armor.

"It's not your fault," Ash said.

Huh? Shorter tried to force his jaw open. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I really don't blame you."

"You should."

"Why?" asked Ash.

Shorter spun the beer bottle, now empty. It toppled after catching on a snag in the wood. "I don't even remember what happened," Shorter said. "I have no idea why I would have—" Except that I'm a shithead friend and—

What else do I even have? He had terrible grades, a sister struggling to make ends meet, two urns containing his parents, and his own public defender had told him, after his arrest, that he had ruined his own life. This type of thing's not easy to seal away. And he could only laugh at the man, beaten down by kids like him. This is the one who's supposed to defend me?

All he had, all he really had, were the people he could be friends with, the ones he ones he didn't have to struggle with to survive.

"Doesn't really matter," said Ash, wincing at the terrible music blaring. "Nothing that Arthur said isn't true."

"Everything Arthur said isn't true," Eiji interrupted.

Both of them turned to stare at him.

"He was trying to reduce you to something like that," said Eiji. "But you can't be reduced to that. Just like Shorter shouldn't be reduced to one drunken mistake, or—"

"Or you shouldn't be evaluating your worth based on a shattered ankle?" Ash scoffed.

"It's easy for you to say," said Shorter, studying the bottle, swirling it around as if there was still liquid inside. But there wasn't.

"My ankle's fine now," said Eiji. "I could jump. Except I can't. Because I'm a coward. It's a mental thing, or so they say." He leaned back. "Neither of you are cowards."

"I never thought I was that pathetic," Shorter said. His fingers traced a dark stain on the wood of the bar. "To tell someone I don't even know—"

"Didn't one of the Lee brothers used to employ your parents?" asked Ash. "I understand, Shorter. I really do. I don't—"

He pulled his sunglasses off. "They want you to be expelled. For some reason." He met Ash's eyes. "That's obvious."

"Then I'm going to need friends," said Ash.

Still.

But I blew it.

And you're forgiving me? "I hate you," said Shorter. "Stupid angel."

Ash smirked.

"Excuse me," interrupted the bartender. "May I see ID?"

Ash handed over his fake ID. Eiji paled. "I don't have one. I'm from Japan."

Uh-oh. Shorter stiffened.

The bartender suddenly studied Ash's closer. He narrowed his eyes.

"Whoops," said Shorter. He snatched the ID straight out of the bartender's hand. Ash grabbed Eiji.

"Hey!" bellowed the bartender.

They dashed out the door, almost trampling some poor man heading in. "Sorry!" Eiji yelped, swerving out of the way.

"We need to get you a fake ID," Shorter panted, clapping Eiji on the shoulder.

Eiji's mouth fell open in horror. Ash doubled over as they reached the end of the block, laughing.

"Nadia's going to kill me," Shorter complained when they approached his apartment. Playing hooky definitely wasn't good for his probation. But—

"Definitely," Ash concurred. Eiji frowned.

Shorter stalled as they headed up the stairs to the cramped apartment above Chang Dai, the restaurant his sister ran. The smell of garlic and leeks filled the air. "Oh, shit. Looks like it'll be a triple funeral."

"Huh?" Eiji paused.

The sound of multiple voices filled the air. Nadia's, and for some reason the police officer from their school. Charlie's. And Max's. And Ibe's.

"Oh no," whispered Eiji.

Ash didn't look fazed. And then another woman's voice. Jessica's. Ash's face suddenly paled.

"Eiji, please go first," requested Shorter. "Shield us."

"Huh?" Eiji looked as if he wanted to melt into the railing.

Ash groaned. He stomped up towards the door, pushing it open. The five adults sat on the worn plaid couch and in the rickety chairs in their living area. All heads swiveled to stare at them.

"Hi Ibe," croaked out Eiji.

"We didn't skip school," Ash said instantly.

Shorter had, but he didn't really know what to say. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Shorter," Charlie said in relief. "We were worried. I contacted your sister and—"

Nadia shoved her chair back, rushing towards him. Shorter flinched. She grabbed him.

Not in a slap or to shake him, but in a hug.

Huh?

Did I really scare you?

I always scare you, don't I?

Everyone else filed out. "I'll call you later?" Charlie said.

Nadia nodded.

"I'll text you," Shorter mumbled to Ash and to Eiji. He liked that Japanese kid.

Footsteps clumped down the stairs. They were alone, and the sunset leaked tangerine and beet through the tiny window.

"Do you want dinner?" Nadia asked.

"How spicy did you make it?" And would he be sweating and gasping when she started in on the lecture?

"Enough to make you suffer." She smirked.

Shorter rolled his eyes. He followed her towards the cabinets, helping spoon the soup into bowls. She was quiet. "I didn't mean to worry you," he said finally.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nadia dried two spoons.

Shorter cringed. "I fucked up."

"I gathered."

"I—" Shorter covered his eyes and dropped down at the kitchen table. "No. I don't want to talk about it." Humiliation crawled through him. Even if Ash said it was okay, was it? Was it really? Or would Ash now have a niggling down in the back of his mind every time he turned to Shorter?

Somehow, he knew he wouldn't, and that almost made him want to hide more. "I was stupid."

"It sounds like there are some bullies at your school," said Nadia, pouring two glasses of milk. "I gave that cop an earful. He should be doing more to stop it. They all should be. But instead they're letting gangs and bullies run the show." She slammed the glasses down on the table.

You're mad for me, not at me? Shorter pulled off his sunglasses again. "You yelled at Charlie?"

"It wasn't yelling. I just told him what I thought." Nadia took a sip of soup. Her lips puckered. She scrambled to grab her glass of milk, chugging it. He laughed.

"I got drunk and fucked up," Shorter said. "On Friday. I said some things about Ash to someone who wasn't trustworthy. That I shouldn't have."

"I heard that much." Nadia tilted her head. "Ash went after you, though."

"Yeah…"

"He thinks of you like a brother, Shorter. I know that. You forgive brothers when they fuck up."

"Or you poison their soup." Shorter gestured. "Really, how much chili did you put in it, sis?"

Nadia cringed, gesturing with her spoon. "How about helping me remake it? Since neither of us are going to eat this."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Shorter muttered.

She frowned, taking the soup to the sink. "I just wanted to make sure you would be okay."

"I feel like all I do is burden you."

Nadia dropped the bowls with a clatter. Her eyes bulged.

Great, now he was making it worse. "You really don't need to worry about me. I know that you're only a few years older than me and yet you have to take care of me, and so I—"

"That isn't it at all," Nadia burst out. She gaped at him like he'd slapped her.

Of course he was failing now too. Shit. His father was probably clucking his tongue up in heaven.

"I just—I want you to be—happy, Shorter. You're my little brother. I just want you to be okay. I want you to live the best life. I don't want you in prison not because it's a burden to me but because I'm worried about you—because I don't want to lose anyone el—" She cut herself off, hand clasped over her mouth.

You miss them. His sister was running her own business, raising him, at an age where she should still be out with friends. "I—"

"Don't ever think," said Nadia, crouching in front of him and taking his hands in hers. "That you're a burden. You're the best part of my life. My restaurant, cooking, all of that—you're my baby brother even if you're a foot taller than me now. You make me happier than any of that." Her eyes shone.

The best part? Shorter gaped at her. His eyes stung. That can't be true, right?

But Nadia never lied.

He wrapped her in a hug, dropping his head to her shoulder. She rubbed his back, like Mom used to after he had a nightmare. "I'm—really proud of you."

She snorted.

"You should make sure you have a life outside of me, though."

"I do. I cook. I run a business. And I date."

"You do?" Shorter suddenly remembered where he stored his pocketknife collection.

"Mm." She smirked and handed him a cutting board of vegetables to chop up. "On Friday. I have a date."

A horrible feeling settled in Shorter's stomach. "With whom?"

"The cop from your school. Charlie Dickenson. He seems like he has a good heart. And he's cute."

I will take the spicy soup over this kind of torture.

The school cop is taking my sister on a date, Shorter texted.

You're fucked, came Ash's response.

"Text you later," Eiji mumbled. Ash nodded. He hoped he hadn't gotten Eiji in too much trouble. But Eiji was sixteen and more than capable of making his own decisions. Yet he seemed so innocent sometimes.

He had definitely not expected to see Max and Jessica at Nadia's. Jessica's eyes were blue flames, and Ash had a feeling he was about to get burned.

"Did Nadia call you?" he finally asked.

"Yeah," Jessica confirmed.

"I just wanted to make sure Shorter was okay," Ash said.

"You caused a fire alarm at your school. Charlie said they couldn't prove it, but it was obvious," said Max.

You're upset about that? "Whoops." In the grand scheme of things, Ash truly did not care. Did they really expect him to just stand there in that hallway, other students milling about, whispering? He'd had his fill of that. All the people at the grocery store and the post office and the diner whispering about the prostitute murderer eight-year-old was why his father sent him away.

"He's being bullied in school for it."

No, Dad, you were being bullied for it.

But Eiji didn't run away. He ran after him. He walked back into the school right by Ash's side.

I don't understand why you would want to hang around with me. Was it only because Ash had defended him that day? Did that really mean so much to him? How could he not have been scared by the fact that Ash then broke Arthur's fingers? But he really wasn't scared. They talked. He laughed easily. He was awkward and asked strange questions, pronounced words in odd ways, asked Ash for help on his homework. And yet he didn't seem like he was getting much out of it.

"Michael's at my sister's," Jessica said when they got home. "Want to talk about it?"

"No, old lady."

"Call me that again, I dare you."

"Old lady." He tilted his head back. She rolled her eyes.

Max groaned. "I'll pick up Michael." The door closed behind him.

"Look," said Jessica, getting right down to business. "George is worried. He doesn't want you to go back to juvie, so—"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because he cares about you?"

Ash arched an eyebrow at her. "I really don't know how to translate that." He dropped onto the kitchen table, swinging his legs because he knew it would irritate Jessica. "I'm his case."

His father said he cared, and he sent him away. His brother cared, and he was dead. Dino said he cared, and he left bruises up and down Ash's body, ink he couldn't wash away.

Eiji acted like he cared. So did Shorter. Ash rested his chin on his fist. But they were his age. Not like George.

"You're a kid whose case he handles."

"Why would he care?" Ash asked, looking up at Jessica. "Because I'm smart?" He knew George wasn't like Dino, caring because of his looks. Max and Jessica cared because he was Griff's brother, right?

Jessica grabbed a package of ground beef and started mashing it into burgers. "Help me."

Ash considered refusing. But no. He got to his feet, shuffling over.

"You know," said Jessica. "Max and I started dating soon after he got back from Iraq and got married because of Michael. But we broke up soon after I had him. Kids are great, but they're tiring."

"Yeah. I know. I was too tiring for my mother even as just a three day old infant so the bitch split town. Why are you telling me this?"

Jessica handed him some meat. "Hit hard."

"Fine." Ash hated the sight of blood. Or rather, he hated that it didn't bother him.

"While we broke up, someone Max had done a story on who didn't come out looking so favorable broke into our apartment. Or my apartment, since I'd kicked him out. He assaulted me." She smacked the meat. Crimson droplets flew.

Ash froze, meat cold against his hand.

"He's dead now. Got killed in prison. I'm glad, too. But prison's dangerous. And people do talk, because they're dumbasses." Jessica's hair swung down her back. "Fuckwads who do something like that can all suck a dick. It sucks, having your personal business known all over, the pitying looks that are really just begging for details."

Ash snorted. Jessica's potty mouth would forever be the bane of Max's existence.

"Your father can get fucked, too," Jessica added. "Max said he'd punch anyone who said anything or made me uncomfortable. He never needed to. I told off two of them myself." She took the patty away from Ash to finish it.

Ash's throat tightened. "Shorter didn't mean to. It wasn't his fault."

"I know. But bullies don't ever grow up, a lot of the time. Having someone to lean on helped me." Jessica set the patty aside. "You and that Japanese kid seem pretty close. And there's Shorter too, of course. That's good."

Good. Huh. He wasn't used to anyone referring to anything he did that he also liked as good.

"And Michael was still so young, and he needed me. Kids are a lot of work, but they're not a burden."

"I'm not your kid."

"You're sixteen and legally, you are at the moment."

Ash's eyes widened. You're really saying I'm not a burden.

"You should know," said Jessica, rinsing the blood off her hands. "Even if Max and I probably won't agree with a lot of your decisions, and we might ground you sometime—and yes, I can lock you in your room, don't test me—we're not going to disagree with you as a person. Even if you got sent back to juvie, we'd visit you."

Something hot prickled inside of him. "I don't want to go back to juvie."

"Good."

"I want to be—free," said Ash. He thought of Eiji. He was free. He could travel the world, and of all the things he could do, he was choosing to hang around Ash? I can't possibly be worth that much. "Being locked up drives me crazy. But it's still better than living with other people I've lived with." That's another kind of prison, a kind he still wasn't free of and couldn't be, not unless he dropped out of school or died, really, because even if he dropped out Golzine would find him. And if Max was seriously going to investigate Golzine, he was a risk to this family. A child born out of an ill-conceived summer fling that broke apart Griff's mother and father, a burden to his mother from the start, a toxin for families. "Not Griffin. He was a good brother."

But when he tried to save Griffin, he wound up shot. Ash was a terrible brother, capable only of burning everything around him.

Eiji, you'll get burned. Jessica, Max, Michael…

"You know, George asked Max and I to take you in before we knew Griffin was your brother," Jessica said. "We wanted to, but we were worried. When we heard, we decided our worries were things we'd figure out."

"What?" Ash hadn't expected to hear that. He pressed his lips together. Before? "Was it because he wanted a source on Golzine?" But it had seemed like Max was truly surprised...

"I don't know very much about Max's current investigation, but no."

"You can't protect me. He should be worrying about you and Michael—"

"And you, idiot," snapped Jessica. "How many people have even tried, Ash? Besides Griffin? Let George and Max and I try."

Try.

I have no idea how to do that.

"Everything seems to have worked out okay," Lao said, watching Ash, Eiji, and Shorter all arrive together the next morning.

Sing exhaled, slamming his locker shut. "Good."

"Look who else is here." Lao nodded over his shoulder. Yut-Lung hurried past, scarf pulled up over his chin. He noticed Lao watching and ducked his head, refusing to look at Sing.

"You don't have to make him feel awkward," countered Sing.

Lao rolled his eyes. "Well, at least now you'll see that he's just trouble."

Do not punch your brother do not punch your brother do not punch your brother. "I'm sixteen, Lao. I can take care of myself." Lao spent way too much time fretting over Sing when they were just a year apart. Lao liked Shorter well enough, but then it was Ash he thought was a bad influence when Sing wanted to seek him out for some advice, and then it was Yut-Lung after Sing insisted on inviting him to the party. Can't you see he's just Ash but without any of the appeal?

"I don't want to say I told you so," Lao had said yesterday after he told Yut-Lung off. "But I told you so. And now he hurt Shorter, and Shorter's our friend. And I knew that Ash was trouble. A hooker and a murderer at eight?"

"You don't even know if it's true!"

"Doesn't matter!"

"Well, exactly!" Sing shot back. An eight year old couldn't be responsible for something like that.

Then again, he and Lao had been on their own more or less since he was about eight. His mother checked in only every now and then.

"I know," said Lao. "Of course you can."

Bullshit. I'm my own responsibility, dammit. Sing tried to catch Shorter's eye. He finally spotted him and waved.

Really, Nadia and Shorter were more their parents than their mother, even though Shorter was Sing's age and younger than Lao. Nadia brought them food when she made too much. And Shorter taught Sing how to drive. Illegally but whatever, he'd never been caught. And he was impressed with Sing's dragon fang.

"Hey," said Ash.

"Hey," Sing said. Lao looked as if he had stuffed an entire lemon in his mouth and was choking on it. "Good to see you all back."

Eiji Okumura smiled.

"Arthur's not going to take kindly to people hanging around me," Ash said.

"Don't care," said Sing with a shrug. Shorter grinned, eyes widening as if he was impressed with Sing. Sing straightened.

"Excuse me," interrupted a voice behind them.

And just like that, all optimism drained from Sing. He turned, slowly.

Yut-Lung stood there, wringing his hands. He studied his designer shoes, and then forced his gaze up to meet Shorter's. "I want to apologize. Wheedling that out of you was… not cool, and Ash, I should not have spread it. Will you forgive me?" He swallowed.

"Spread it?" asked Shorter. "You told Arthur, or more people?"

Yut-Lung hung his head.

"So, you were planning on it all along?" Shorter burst out. "It wasn't a—drunken mistake you made too?"

Yut-Lun shook his head. "I wasn't drunk; I—"

"Fine," said Ash. "Now leave me alone."

"I'm asking for your forgiveness." He sounded so formal.

Ash's eyes were huge. "No," Ash said. "I don't forgive you. Who knows what you'll tell Arthur next?"

Yut-Lung flinched. Sing's heart pounded. But instead of throwing a hissy fit, Yut-Lung merely nodded, clenched his fists, and stalked off.

"I can't believe he planned that," Shorter whispered. "That's… pathological."

Lao jabbed Sing in the ribs. Sing stomped on his foot. "Ow!"

The bell rang. They all scattered to homeroom. Sing hesitated.

Oh, fuck it. Lao wasn't even in his homeroom. He ducked into the restroom. Sure enough, he heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the stall at the end. Sing leaned back against one of the sinks. The sobs turned into violent sniffs, as if he was trying to stifle them but failing.

"Are you going to come out, or do I have to come in?"

A broken sob.

Sing sighed. "I'm not going to yell at you."

A pause. The door unlocked and swung open. "Why not?" Yut-Lung asked, eyes red and nose swollen.

"Are you really so upset you're crying?"

"Sorry I'm as girly as I look."

"I didn't insult your femininity. Or masculinity."

Yut-Lung slumped back against the wall. "You have the right to be mad at me. They all do."

But you were still hoping for something different.

You're that lonely?

Yut-Lung's shoulders hunched around him. Sing stepped closer, and Yut-Lung's head snapped up, a glare flaring on his face.

Whoa, okay. "Well, then, if they don't want to forgive you, you'll just have to make it up to them."

"Huh?" The glare dropped. Yut-Lung wiped his eyes. A bandage covered his hand.

"Make it up to them."

"How?"

"I dunno yet, but we all know Arthur isn't the type to let sleeping lynxes lie." Sing smirked at his pun while Yut-Lung rolled his eyes. "He'll be plotting."

"If he has the brain cells," Yut-Lung offered.

Sing snorted. See? You can be funny. "Well, you're 'gifted' right? So you definitely do. Hell, I'll help you."

"As a way to get closer to Ash?"

"You say it like I have a crush on him."

Yut-Lung folded his arms. "I've wondered."

"I don't! I just—admire him, is all!" He got to do what he wanted, more or less, without an older brother breathing down his neck every second. "And it'd be a way to help you, dummy. Because you're acting like an asshole but you also seem genuinely cool sometimes."

"Plotting a coup against a school bully, how cool." Yut-Lung reconsidered. "I guess that does sound interesting."

Sing laughed. "Also, it's a way to get away from Lao. He's a bit—overprotective."

"I see." Yut-Lung tapped his chin. "If you want to come over today, you could. He's not invited."

"I can't. I have to help Nadia at the restaurant. But I can come tomorrow for sure."

Yut-Lung's eyes lit up. It was almost adorable.

Sing held out his hand. Yut-Lung shook it. His fingers were soft.

The bell rang.

"Christ," complained Sing. "We're late."