Things that change slowly but drastically-like water on stone, language, sometimes individual songs-huge, majestically quiet things I find pretty.

0o0o0o

The funeral was silent. Kiku sat rigidly, tears streaming down his face. Yao was bent, broken at the shoulders and the spine, all the lines that held him upright. The small observatory had a pure, unmarked pane of glass to see outwards. Beautiful as it was, the opulence was dragged down with its purpose. This room was only used for funerals.

'It's time to go.'

Yao jerked as the hesitant hand touched his shoulder. He looked up. Even blurred with tears, the violet eyes were unmistakable.

Emil bowed his head, thin shoulders shaking. For the first time, Yao realized how young he was. Barely older than the boy he'd taken care of. 'It's time,' he repeated.

They found their suits. Yao tried to pull it on, but the sleek plates wouldn't align right and his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it and swore. Kiku stopped him when he went to pick it up.

'Hold still.'

Yao wanted to protest. Kiku's red eyes begged him not to. He let his prodigy fit him into it before Kiku turned to a trembling Emil as well. He bent down and whispered something in the boy's ear. Emil blinked slowly and nodded.

Their little party started towards the doors, hooking on cables and checking suits. They had their vials of ashes in hand. Yao watched Emil cradle his, whispering fierce promises muffled by his mask. Tears welled in his eyes, fogging the glass.

'Emil.'

The boy raised his eyes. Yao saw hurt there, hurt that they'd failed, over what they'd done. Emil shook his head, the tiniest motion, and Yao was helpless.

The airlock hissed open, and Emil was the first one out.

They floated. Their ashes seemed weightless out here. Parents were always the first. Yao's vision blurred, and when he came back, Kiku was twisting the cap off his vial. Then it was his turn.

The ashes were pale gray and white and so small, so insignificant. There was nothing in them to speak of a boy who'd run laughing through starship halls just weeks ago. This was all that was left of him.

He shook them out and watched as they joined the darkness, for all meanings looking like the pinpricks of faraway stars. They drifted away.

Beside him, Emil stared at his vial with terrified, lonely eyes. For a second, it didn't seem he would let the ashes go, but then he ripped off the cap and the ash, Leon's ashes swung out in a long trail, like a comet's tail, and Emil weakly reached out and ran his fingers through them. His movements were tender, gentle, like fingers carding through hair. Loving.

Emil looked at him with a half-smile, teary and bitter, and Yao almost-almost-laughed at his stupidity at not realizing sooner.

When the doors of the airlock hissed shut behind them, Emil still had ashes on the fingers of his suit.

Yao drifted through the rest of the funeral.

0o0o0o

After the funeral was over, after he could no longer see Leon's ashes in the glass, Yao knew he would have to work again. There would be no more excuses of letting Kiku take his paperwork along with his own. Being Yao the fleet leader, Yao the nobleman was not new, being Yao without his little brother was.

Yao numbly signed his name again, agreed to another contract he'd regret in a month, a week, tomorrow. There would be no more of Leon's conversation when he was supposed to be doing work and had to chase him off, there would be no more silly food requests, no more him, plain and simple. Yao had thought his throat was too raw to cry, and yet some broken sound crawled out at the thought that he'd have to reassign the little papers he'd given to Leon to someone else.

Someone opened the door. Yao didn't bother to look up.

'Ivan, why weren't you at the funeral?'

'I didn't belong there.'

'I would say you're right.' Yao felt Ivan's warmth beside him. 'Ivan…'

'We cannot change what has already happened, Yao.'

'I don't want to talk about it,' he begged. 'Please, Ivan.'

'I'm sorry, Yao.'

'I am, too.'

A larger, warmer hand covered his and pried the pen from his grasp.

'I need to get this done.'

'How many days has it been since the funeral, Yao?'

'I don't know,' Yao snapped. 'Give me my pen back, Ivan.'

'It's been two and a half days. Have you slept?'

'I don't know!' Yao grabbed for the pen, and Ivan pulled him from his chair and slammed him against the wall. Yao screeched in fury.

'You aren't good to anyone dead, Yao.' The hint of anger coloured his normally composed voice. Yao knew all too well the way his hands were pale and the bones jutted from them. He was perfectly aware of what he'd been doing-it was all he could do!

'Let go of me, Braginsky!'

Ivan jerked back like he'd been burned.

Yao felt suddenly cold.

'Ivan?'

'Please don't call me that,' Ivan whispered, sounding childishly small. Yao nodded, frantically reaching for him, and Ivan let himself be held.

'I'm sorry.'

'Leon wouldn't have wanted you to end like this,' he said. Yao scoffed into his scarf. It was a low card to play, but it coiled like an iron in his stomach; it worked. Ivan seemed to take his silence as agreement.

'Why don't you like that name?'

'I don't like it when it's said in anger. It's related to how I keep getting my machinery broken,' he said. 'Do not ask any more, Yao.'

'I won't.' Yao tipped Ivan's head up to look him in the eye. 'Can I have my pen back?'

Ivan let him have it. 'Take care, Yao.'

'Hold on, Ivan.' Yao sat back down at his desk. 'How can I stop you from getting into these stupid fights that get your machinery broken?'

His voice was teasing, but Ivan flinched.

'They aren't fights, not really.'

Before the door shut, Ivan heard the sound of Yao calling for him to wait. He didn't.

0o0o0o

'We are sorry for your loss.'

Yao looked Natalya in the eyes and nodded. Somewhere, under the court-schooled expression and the violet eyes, so exactly like her brother's, he thought he saw a flicker of sorrow. She was not the enemy, she was trying to survive in a bloody game of lives-one that Yao did not play well. For a second, he wanted to ask if she'd seen Earth, too.

'Thank you,' he said instead, and discarded the idea of Natalya knowing Earth.

She guided them back towards the meeting. Kiku is far more composed than he is. Someone who had not had years of the young man's life to share wouldn't have seen the way his eyes were too wide and unblinking and his hands clenched.

'We have bad news.' Someone stood up at the end of the table, and a ripple went through the crowd. 'There has been evidence of an outbreak of the virus.'

'Where?' someone called.

'The Middle fleet.'

Yao finally looked up, a retort poised on his tongue. The Russian leader looked back at him. This was the first time he'd spoken.

'I would think it would be my responsibility to announce what is happening in my fleet,' he said sharply. The man nodded.

'It would if there was not evidence you may not have found it in time. We had to act,' he said. 'Nobleman Yao, you need to take action on the population issues, do you not? We can supply you with starships. Temporarily, of course. We can also assist you with finances in order to arrange for a more aggressive attack on researching the virus…?'

Yao tasted blood. He couldn't turn the offer down-the subtle threat in the man's eyes told much-but allowing influence over their finances was too much.

'I agree,' he said, the bitter taste increasing until he nearly gagged in the words. 'We can discuss later.'

'Thank you.' The man inclined his head, and Yao caught his shark's smile.

Your former ambassador is hanging in the balance, he seemed to say. Be careful.

0o0o0o

'Here are the figures,' Yao said, passing the device to Natalya. Kiku had managed to pull together a few sheets that painted them in the best light while also hiding much information. What he wouldn't do without the boy, Yao thought, shaking his head.

Natalya scanned the numbers a final time, toying with a bit of her collar.

'I apologize for Leon,' she said finally, swirling her drink. 'Did he pass peacefully?'

'In his sleep,' Yao said. She nodded, now pressing at a patch of lace. Yao took a drink and winced again. Oddly bitter.

'I would have thought you were still mourning.'

'The job doesn't wait,' he said defensively. She mutely shook her head and gestured to a tiny black device nearly invisible in the lace. Yao, eyes wide, looked up at her, and she nodded grimly.

'I wonder, do you think my brother was a better ambassador?' she asked lightly. Yao nodded emphatically.

'No,' he lied a second afterwards, still bewildered. She nodded.

'Well, regardless, if I see him, I'll remind him to take care,' she said, standing up. Yao mouthed why?

She shook her head and mouthed back because he is in grave danger before leaving.

0o0o0o

It was a long few hours before Yao could safely call for Ivan.

'You're in danger,' he whispered as soon as Ivan closed the door soundlessly behind him.

'I'm always in danger, Yao.'

'No. Real danger, Ivan, from your leader or someone. Your sister told me.'

His face darkened. 'I would not trust what she told you.'

'No, you need to listen. You need to-'

'My sister lied to you, Yao.' He cut him off. 'To distract you from being the Middle fleet leader, from doing what you needed to do.'

'I don't think she's lying, Ivan!' Yao grabbed his arm. 'Listen. You don't need to believe her. I can take time off and say that I'm grieving-' a lance of pain shot through him at the thought of using the occasion like that, but he pushed it away. '-in order to look around.'

'You really shouldn't. I'll do it instead,' Ivan said.

'If you are caught-!'

'I won't be.' Ivan smiled, a ghost of predatory instinct in the teeth of it. 'Don't worry.'

'For now, though, stay the night,' Yao insisted impulsively. Ivan let himself be pulled closer into a kiss.

'Of course.'

'Good.'

0o0o0o

Feliks heard the soft cry and ran before he realized he was doing so.

'Toris? Toris, what's wrong?' Feliks scanned the room for whoever might have drawn that sound from the brunette. 'Toris, is it another letter?'

'Here.' Toris weakly offered a blank, pure white sheet of paper to the blond.

'If it's another machinery request, I'm gonna-' Feliks froze.

'I don't want to, I'm sorry, Feliks,' Toris begged. 'I didn't want to do it. The machinery killed him. I killed him, Feliks!'

'No, you didn't.' Feliks tossed the letter aside. It could wait. 'You tried your best. He would have definitely died without it. You, like, gave him a chance at life!'

'But it didn't work,' Toris breathed. 'Do you think that's what this is for? That they know I killed him?'

'No,' Feliks said, feeling sick. Toris shook his head, hands white-knuckled on the back of his chair.

'Why else would they want me at the Russian leader's boardroom tomorrow?'

'I'm sure it's fine. Just a check because you, like, used to be a Satellite fleet,' Feliks assured. 'It'll be nothing.'

'If you say so.' Toris gave him a weak smile. 'Come with me? Please?'

'Of course,' Feliks assured him, and dropped a light kiss on his hair, rumpled from fingers dragged through it. He lazily untangled some of the knots, and Toris relaxed back into his touch.

'Good.'

0o0o0o

They change forever, but you'd never notice.

:: Songs with endings nearly unrecognizable from the beginnings