Ash's bones felt made of air. He didn't know whether he could form complete thoughts. He gaped at Eiji.

You—what—to Arthur—

Eiji's face flushed. "Well, you did ask me out."

I did.

And you said yes, and still I—

You really feel that way about me? Why? I would've thought I'd brought you nothing but—and you—you meant it—

I trust you.

Ash found himself back out on the dance floor, words churning through his mind, all the accusations lobbed at him, the labels he'd dug out of the trash and plastered to himself, the words creeping from the closets in his mind when he looked at himself in the mirror late at night, a nightmare's trembles still rattling his bones.

Eiji was an angel. No, Eiji was a person. Holding him, and they were dancing. Ash lowered his chin to Eiji's shoulder, holding him.

Thank you.

He felt human himself this night, breath filling his lungs, a pulse beating in his wrist and neck, sweat prickling the back of his neck, palms clutching Eiji's shoulder and waist as they turned and turned. You.

"He probably won't give up," Eiji mumbled.

"No," Ash said. "But I don't want to think about that right now."

Eiji smiled.

Ash spotted Max and Jessica dancing then, other students like Shorter and Cain hooting at them. Kong and Bones were making their best attempt at dancing, but Bones kept stumbling while Alex laughed at them. Yut-Lung was trying to teaching Sing some steps, giggling, his face flushed and braids sticking to his neck. And Max looked over his shoulder, met Ash's eyes, and he nodded, and he smiled too. Ash knew Dino was watching, but he couldn't feel his eyes, not here. He pressed his lips to Eiji's forehead. I love you.

If I matter for you, then I matter, right? Because you do.

Back in their dorm room, Eiji was laughing still, glowing. And that glow pulled Ash in. Eiji stopped when he saw the look on Ash's face.

"Do you want to kiss?" Ash asked.

Eiji pulled Ash's face down towards him, lips meeting. They sat on Eiji's bed, Ash guiding Eiji, their mouths warm and grasping, Eiji's thumb on Ash's jaw. The kissing slowed, deep and searching. Ash kept his grasp of Eiji loose, and yet Eiji didn't pull back.

You really meant it.

He pulled back, forehead resting against Eiji's. Eiji closed his eyes. Both of them content, holding each other. And something curled inside of him, something burning and different than anything he'd felt before, like a whirlwind pulling him into a dizzying flight, navel first. He shifted and realized. He didn't have to, he wasn't being forced, he was free, and he was on fire.

I really love you.

His hand moved then, to Eiji's chest. Eiji sucked in his breath.

"What do you want to do?" Ash asked.

Eiji swallowed. "You don't have to prove anything, Ash." He was worried. Still, Ash could see even behind his pants that Eiji was hard.

Don't have to prove anything. Because it wouldn't heal him, and Eiji wasn't a tool, and doing things on his own, his own choices, still wasn't going to fix any of the bruises or scrapes that marred him in the past.

But you don't see the wounds. No, you do. But they don't scare you.

I'm bleeding and I want to heal, but—

Either way, you'll be with me, won't you? Or am I forcing you to—

No. You said it yourself. You want to stay with me. You want to know me. And I really want to know you.

There was never going to be a perfect time. Not for him. His baggage was always going to be there.

But it seemed bearable right now.

Sex wasn't going to cure him. It didn't have to make his life better, or worse.

I want to do it with you.

"I know," Ash said softly. "But we could—try."

"If you get scared," Eiji said. "Or if something doesn't feel right, you can stop it, and I'll stop."

"Same to you." Ash smirked. He pushed his hair back. "I do have condoms."

Eiji nodded. "Do you want to be on top? You'll have more control—"

"No," Ash said. "I mean, maybe some other time, but—I think—" He did not want to risk hurting Eiji. But he trusted Eiji not to hurt him. Can we work on that? Even if it's not perfect?

Am I—

Eiji stood as he grabbed the box of condoms. His hand landed on Ash's shoulder.

You trust me, too.

Then this will be right. Because it's you.

Their lips met again before clothes started coming off. And then they were both completely naked, arms around each other as they sat on Eiji's bed. Not the bed where Ash had nightmares.

This is me.

Was he ready? He didn't know. Eiji leaned in again, their lips meeting wet, and Ash lowered himself back, pulling Eiji on top of him, his mind drilling through shoulds. But Eiji just stared down at him, cupping his hands around Ash's face, kissing him, and Ash kissed him back. The anxiety pebbling in his back melted, slowly dripping away with each kiss. He moved down Eiji's chest. Sliding his hands. "Nice abs."

"Pole vaulting," Eiji admitted. His face actually turned red. Even though he was sitting on top of Ash, nude. Ash noticing his abs was what made him blush.

Ash laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing." Ash trailed his fingers down Eiji's abdomen. He wanted to kiss each one of them. Because they were part of Eiji, something Eiji had worked for.

"I really don't want to hurt you," Eiji said. "If it does hurt—I—please tell me, Ash. I won't enjoy it if you're—"

"I know," Ash said. "I'll tell you, Eiji. I promise." Together, right? We'll do this together.

"Do you want me to use my hands? For you?"

"Yeah," Ash said. "Go ahead."

When Eiji pushed in, Ash let out his breath. Eiji paused, looking down at him, and Ash pulled his face down to kiss him again. I like kissing you. Eiji was a gentle kisser, no frenetic jamming, just soft. He could feel memories pressing in, but when he tasted Eiji, they were muffled.

Ash moved his hips first, Eiji following. They were both—together—and all the times he used to lie back and let someone else—Eiji wanted him to be a part of this too. Eiji giggled.

"What?"

"I was just thinking—is this really happening?"

"Well, no, you're not moving at all," Ash teased, and Eiji laughed for real this time, and he did too.

This is real. You are real. I am real. Sweat stuck their chests together as they moved. Ash buried his face in Eiji's shoulder, kissing his skin, tasting him. And when they came, Eiji let out an involuntary sound, and Ash, used to faking noises, made no sound at all, but he didn't have to, because what was rushing through him was more than just some kind of ecstasy, like sparks pricking his torso and arms and legs, but a sense of security. Eiji looked down at him, hair mussed and hanging over his forehead, undignified, and Ash clutched him, pulling him close.

"Was—okay?" Eiji pantd.

"Yeah," Ash whispered. "I liked it." His eyes stung. "It felt—good." But that wasn't entirely it. It felt good because—it was you. Awkward and fumbling. He didn't have to hide any part of himself. He could be awkward too. "I'd do it again."

Eiji snorted.

He fell asleep, his head on Ash's chest, and Ash stayed curled up in his arms. He couldn't sleep for almost an hour, but that was okay, because he'd seldom felt so relaxed.

Eiji woke with Ash's arms around him. Ash was snoring. Eiji smirked. Ash wasn't gonna wake up until noon, probably. He stroked Ash's hair.

I had sex with him.

I loved it.

His phone buzzed. Eiji winced as he reached for it. Ibe. Asking him to meet for breakfast. Another text lingered on his phone, from Keiko. She wanted to know how prom had gone. He'd text her back later; she'd want details instead of a simple "good." Not that he was going to give her all the details. What happened between Ash and him was for them alone.

Eiji eased himself out of bed, wrapping the blankets around Ash, who barely stirred. He sent a quick text to him.

Ibe wants to meet for breakfast. Sleep well. I'll probably be back before you wake up anyways. And I'm happy about last night.

He showered and dressed quickly. He wondered what Sing was going to do about Lao and his antics last night. And then he dismissed those thoughts. He still felt as if there was something iridescent glowing inside him.

He met Ibe in the mostly-empty cafeteria, trying not to skip.

"You look happy," Ibe observed.

Ibe, I'm having sex. Nope. He was not saying a word. It was private. Eiji got a plate of eggs from Nadia, who greeted him in a cheerful voice, and sat down.

"Max sent pictures," Ibe said. "You and Ash looked like you were having fun."

Eiji nodded. "We were." He let out his breath. "Arthur tried to be rude, but I told him to leave Ash alone."

Ibe sipped his tea. "I'm proud of you, then."

Really? Eiji's eyes widened. "Thanks." Even though I've been fairly—not obedient this year?

"Welcome." Ibe sighed.

"Ibe-san," Eiji said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Ei-chan. Is something—"

"Why do you care so much?" Eiji clamped his hand over his mouth. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant—I—" He wanted to know.

Ibe shook his head. "It's okay. I know what you meant." He rested his chin on his fist. "I know how you felt—I couldn't get a break when I started photography. I worked and I worked, and I still wasn't getting anywhere, and I lost—my passion almost. I forgot what I was even working for. And then I remember taking that job covering for the track meet, and that shot—I suppose I felt grateful to you."

Eiji swallowed. "You don't owe me, Ibe-san."

"I don't." Ibe met his gaze. "I just wanted to help you, because I saw that look in your eyes, that same haunted—you want to fly. You want to be free, to live, really, and it's been—a joy seeing that light come back into your eyes here at this school. Ash is good for you."

Eiji's cheeks flushed. "He is."

"Good." Ibe drank more of his tea.

You really just—care. And you notice. Thank you.

Ibe's brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Eiji asked, frowning.

"Nothing really. Akira called me again. It seems her dad screamed at her again, and she's been sick the entire week afterwards, so my sister asked me if she could call me." Ibe almost smiled.

This is your light. When you're helping lost kids. You're good at this, Ibe-san.

"It's sad that she can't be herself for her father," said Eiji. "Just because she's a girl. And no matter what she does, it won't be enough for him." He knew. Ash knew, too.

"I think you know what that feels like, in more ways than one." Ibe sighed.

You knew that I was gay before I met Ash, didn't you? You knew I wouldn't want to disappoint my parents. You saw that no matter how hard I worked at school, no matter how many medals I won, it was never going to make them see me. And it wasn't their fault, not like it is with Akira's father.

"Are you going to bring her here?" asked Eiji.

"I might." Ibe rubbed his forehead. "For next year. I can arrange an interview, at least. But until then…"

"Could I ask a favor?" Eiji asked.

"Of course."

"Could you get an interview for Keiko, too?"

Ibe blinked.

"She's really miserable," Eiji said. "She wants to know what I'm doing constantly. If I'm here, I can tell my parents I'll look after her. And I will. But she's suffering too, even if I didn't pay very much attention when I lived there."

Ibe smiled again. He nodded.

"Thanks."

"And again, I'm proud of you."

Eiji shook his head. Now he was embarrassed.

"Eiji," Ibe said. "I wanted to talk to you not just about that, but about our—investigation. Max, Jessica, and I have hit a dead end when it comes to Griffin."

Eiji swallowed his eggs.

"I know Jessica told Ash this at the beginning of the semester, in a sense, but we're not focusing on Griffin as much anymore. It'd be great to find out what happened. I can't imagine not knowing, if I was in Max's shoes—but the priority for us now is stopping him from hurting anyone else. Any more kids. Please can you trust us in this? If we need you, we'll ask, but until then—can you tell Ash, and I know you've got Yut-Lung with you too, to let us do most of the work?"

Eiji wondered. Ash had seemed—better lately, less obsessed, but still. "He'll want to be somewhat involved."

"Will he settle for being informed instead of involved?"

"Max should ask him," Eiji said, remembering the way Ash looked at him, eyes green and soft. "But he might."

"I don't have time to talk to you," Yut-Lung stated when Hua-Lung approached him. He didn't want to hear what the man had to say. In all likelihood he'd heard about Yut-Lung dancing with Sing, who had gone to Max the morning after prom and asked to room with Cain instead of with Lao. Now Lao had a single room and just glared at all of them, and he only spoke to Shorter.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Yut-Lung had eked out as they headed back from prom. "I'm not—he just wants to protect you. It's so different than my brothers."

"He's still hurting me," Sing had replied bitterly, and Yut-Lung could only nod.

Hurting you by hurting me. Yut-Lung could hardly bring himself to understand why Sing liked him. But he did.

"I think you do," Hua-Lung retorted.

"I don't. I have an appointment to get a blood test and make sure that syphilis is gone. You know, the disease one of the clients you made me sleep with gave to me. Since you told me I had to always make them happy and not all of them would listen to you about condoms!" Yut-Lung glared, voicebox aching as he tried to keep it quiet. "Want me to scream it? I will."

"Don't you dare threaten—"

My whole life, you told me I was unlovable. You told me I was the disease, because of my mother.

I don't believe you anymore.

I think she'd be proud of that.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Yut-Lung asked. "It won't work. Not anymore. Your threats."

Hua-Lung paled, and it hit Yut-Lung. She is gone.

She's dead, isn't she?

If she wasn't, she might as well be.

"Where are you even going?" Hua-Lung continued. "That hack, Meredith? You know he was fired from the hospital he worked in, and that's the reason he works in the back alleys—"

"No, he quit because—"

"What? He has a conscience?"

Yut-Lung yanked his arm. "Let go of me!"

"Let go of him," came Shorter's voice. He folded his arms, appearing in the hallway.

Hua-Lung's eyes flashed. "Your sister—"

"Has—"

"Oh, shut up," said Yut-Lung. "Keep threatening Nadia Wong and I'll leak your sex tape. With me." His brother's grip slackened enough that he was able to jerk away, storming with Shorter past a gaping Foxx. Let Hua-Lung deal with that one. Not that Yut-Lung suspected Foxx was any better of a person. He creeped him out.

"You okay?" Shorter asked.

Yut-Lung nodded, rubbing his arm. "Have you talked to Lao at all?"

"Yeah, earlier today. He's kinda desperate to reconcile with Sing."

"I feel guilty," Yut-Lung admitted. He looked up at Shorter. "First I—I caused you trouble, and now Sing—"

"This isn't your fault," Shorter said. "Lao—he loves Sing deeply, but he's also insecure as fuck. He thinks it's all on him to protect his brother." He bit his lip, twisting his eyebrow piercing. "I wonder if that's how Nadia feels sometimes. Though she'd never do anything like that."

Yut-Lung swallowed. "She wants what's best for you, Shorter. Not what's best for her."

Shorter smirked. "I know. By the way, you and Sing? I like it." He flashed Yut-Lung a grin.

"Hey!"

He met Sing and walked over to the clinic. They would call him with the results.

"I'm sure you're fine," Sing assured him.

Yut-Lung ransacked his mind. He wasn't worried about that. No, what concerned him was what his brother had said, and his own threat. He wasn't sure he still had access to those kinds of tapes, but if—if he leaked them before Dino Golzine had evidence against him, he'd certainly take extra steps to protect himself. But he could offer them to Max and Ibe, if they needed them eventually. And yet—he didn't really want to.

Did that make him a coward?

He didn't even know anymore. He wondered. If his mother was dead, maybe she could watch him. If alive, he didn't even know.

Sleep with them and we'll keep paying her bills.

He should never have believed them. He doubted they'd paid a cent for her. You let her die, didn't you?

"What are you thinking?" Sing asked, and he couldn't even bring himself to tell him.

Sing finally gave up and headed back to his room with Cain. Yut-Lung watched Lao scowl from across the courtyard. Max had been reaching out, but Lao rebuffed his every offer of help.

The funny thing was that, besides Arthur, Yut-Lung was pretty sure he was the person in this dorm who could best understand why.

You're ashamed.

And you don't know how to love someone.

Neither did he. But with Sing…

It was going to hurt, wasn't it? Cracking open his chest. Letting Sing see, letting him hear Yut-Lung debating things no one should have to debate, like whether or not to hand over a tape of himself being assaulted to get justice, or whether he was selfish enough to want to keep a shred of his own dignity.

I wish you were here, Mom.

When he thought of love, he thought of her. She screamed for him, wanted him to escape, and she—he wondered if she was okay to go, when she tried to kill herself, because she knew he was alive, or if she thought he was dead, and wanted to die because it crushed her. He wondered if, if she was truly ever insane and alive, she remembered she had a son, and if her thoughts were any different towards him, if she still cared.

I still wish you to be alive. Maybe it is selfish of me, but I still want to see you. Even if you won't recognize me.

"Okay?" Shorter asked when Yut-Lung entered their room.

Yut-Lung gave him a thumbs up. He got the call a few days later from Dr. Meredith. All clear.

Thank God. Yut-Lung pulled out his phone to text Sing. And he texted Wang-Lung to let him know there would be a bill. Not that Yut-Lung cared.

"You're a disgrace," Wang-Lung told him the next time he saw him, Blanca lingering in the hallway outside. "You know, if you weren't so insistent on distancing yourself from your family, the ones who were generous enough to take you in after your whore mother lose her mind and tried to kill herself to follow after the man she'd ruined, I could have taken you to a decent doctor instead of that hack. Who knows, maybe he gave you HIV with a needle too—"

"And what, then next again the next week when I had gonorrhea?" Yut-Lung shot back. "I'm going back to my dorm."

"You are the worst son our father ever—"

"I don't care about our father," Yut-Lung said, his back turned. "He's a pedophile." It was the first time he'd said those words. He pushed his way out of Wang-Lung's office. Blanca was waiting.

"What happened to your mother?"

"None of your business, but she became my father's when she was ten. Dating. I'm sure you know what that means." Yut-Lung gulped. I'm a child of rape.

Maybe she could love because she was a child of love. I—maybe I can't—

Blanca put his hand on Yut-Lung's shoulder. He stiffened. "Why are you still helping me?"

Blanca frowned. "I promised."

"But I destroyed your wife's wine," Yut-Lung said, looking up at him. "Are you such a dead man already that you can't feel anything?" He stormed off.

In his room, he pulled up Google. It didn't take long. Yes, Dr. Meredith had been fired before. Does that mean I might not actually be cured? Is he actually after money? Yut-Lung worried his lip. He didn't want to still be sick—he wanted—I want to date Sing.

I'm so selfish.

Wait. Maybe why he was fired would matter most. Yut-Lung dug deeper. It took him almost an hour before he found it, buried in an article about scandals linking the hospital to the mafia almost a decade before.

Rumors of a doctor being let go as part of a cover up impeding a major investigation…

It didn't take him long to find tax records to find out just when Meredith was fired, and when the dates struck him familiar, he sat bolt upright.

What do I do?

Ash…