Age: eleven

Interests: unsure

Dislikes: crying

"Here."

Mikeil holds out a nilla pudding. My stomach churns.

"No, thank you."

"Take it."

I don't want it. For some reason I don't feel like speaking, lately.

"I kept it for you."

I shake my head and stand up, getting rid of my half-eaten plate of food before exiting the cantina. We eat at a different hour than we used to. At least, I do. Mikeil and MinMin usually join me, to keep me company. Not that I'm good company at all, nowadays.

Mikeil catches up with me. He doesn't start a conversation because he knows my input will be a string of meaningless, empty words, anyway. I want to feel bad for being this awful to him, but I can't summon the effort.

"Take a right." I have Mikeil's excellent 'Force-sight' to thank for all the times I have been able to avoid them.

"Master Keet-Paol Rut has made MinMin the offer."

"Good." It doesn't sound like much, but Mikeil knows me well enough to know that the word has taken a lot out of me.

"Not that we didn't see it coming," he adds.

"I didn't."

We both know I'm not talking about MinMin, so he doesn't answer.

"Initiate Zhun."

I turn. It's Shin Dan, standing there in all of his Jedi glory, one year older and one year wiser. And I, it appears, have regressed to a point of disconnection.

He walks up to me and crouches a little to look me in the eye. He has grown a lot since I have last seen him. Or perhaps I have shrunk.

He seems to see something (or nothing) in my eyes, and puts a hand on my head before demanding, "Come with me."

I don't look at Mikeil or tell him I'll see him later. I simply follow my brother without a backward glance, staring instead at the small of Shin Dan's back, where his Jedi robe folds and unfolds as he walks.

When we're in his bedroom, he makes me sit down on the bed. He crouches down in front of me and places his hands on my knees, looking at me intently. I gaze right back, unfeeling and uncaring in the eyes of any beholder. On the inside, though, I'm devastated.

"I heard about Obi-Wan's decision."

The name itself feels like a leaden weight pressing against my chest. Something acidic coats the back of my throat and I look away so Shin doesn't see the glistening of my eyes.

"Anakin is the Chosen One, Ni Zhun-Ih," he says, as though these words hold any more meaning to me than the fact that Obi Wan chose him over me. I should care more about peace in the Galaxy and balance in the Force, but I can not let go of the idea that any other Jedi Master could have trained this boy I don't know anything about.

"Who is the best Jedi Master in this Temple?" Shin Dan asks, and I know why. He wants me to tell him it's Obi-Wan, because I've always thought it was Obi-Wan. Because even back when he was just Obi, I knew he would do incredible things.

I just didn't know he would do things that were incredibly painful.

"Master Yoda," I answer.

"Very well. Who comes after that?"

"Master Windu."

"And who comes after?"

"Master Mundi."

"Now you're just naming Council Members."

I want to be my old angry self and demand, 'What do you want me to say, then?!' but I honestly can't bring myself to feel the emotion. It's not Shin Dan I'm mad at.

"Kirani," he says gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, "don't you think that the one who will bring balance to the Force deserves the best Master there is?"

"I get it." He's worth more than me.

"And Obi-Wan made a promise to his Master. Master Jinn's dying wish was that Obi-Wan train Anakin."

I hadn't known this, but the info did little for my heart. The man who had abandoned him for the boy, who had made him feel that awful, had made him do the same to me.

And the worst part was that he didn't even seem to realise it, himself.

Shin Dan embraces me, and I return the gesture, but the warmth of my brother's hold is gone. The warmth that used to dance around him as though he were the son of the Force itself is gone.