"I can't believe you were actually that worried about me," Sing remarked.

Yut-Lung scowled. They were home, now. It was the middle of the night, and they'd finally given enough statements to be dismissed from the police station. Eiji and Ash had to stay overnight at the hospital for evaluation. Nadia said she would take care of Lao. Sing hadn't seemed to want to go with his brother, so Yut-Lung offered to let him come with him and Blanca.

Sitting on the couch in the living area, sipping jasmine tea, Yut-Lung almost felt safe. Almost. He knew what they'd overheard, all of them, and fear wriggled against the back of his skull. "You're my friend," he answered. "Right?"

Sing nodded.

"I was worried when you didn't answer your phone."

"My phone was smashed."

"Well, Cain still had his," Yut-Lung pointed out.

Sing's jaw dropped. "Are you actually lecturing me?"

"I'm pointing out that people care about you and they worry when you imply you're doing something stupid and then you vanish!" I didn't want to lose you.

You were my first friend.

You knew I was a snake after what I did to Shorter, and you still offered to help me.

You give me hope.

"Sorry I worried you," Sing said softly. He clutched the mug of tea, doubling over. "You really went—back to that place for me?"

"I wasn't going to leave you to him. You heard what he's like." Yut-Lung's face burned. He set the tea down. He tried to breathe. "I know better than anyone what he's capable of and—"

"Well, thank you," Sing broke in.

Oh. Yut-Lung lifted his eyes, meeting Sing's. Shadows stretched along the room, elongated in the orange lamplight, softening when they reached the wall.

"I think that's pretty brave," Sing admitted, leaning back into the dark again.

"You're upset about Lao, aren't you?" Yut-Lung asked.

Sing rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Obviously." He set the mug down on a carved stand. How extra did one have to be to carve Lee family dragons into the side table? Yut-Lung tugged his hair over his tattoo. Sing covered his eyes.

Yut-Lung hesitated, reaching out. His hand hovered.

Sing shook his head, but still kept his eyes covered. "I'm all right, I'm—"

Yut-Lung put his hand on Sing's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Sing let out a sob. "He—he's such a hypocrite, and—" He pounded his fist into his knee.

"He is," Yut-Lung agreed. "But he did save us. He smashed Wang-Lung's phone and that recording to help me. And he let us out of the room, first, so we could escape."

"Probably only because he realized you were trying to help me. Otherwise he'd've left you there."

"Is that so bad?" Sing finally dropped his hands from his face. Yut-Lung gulped. "I probably would have—given up my life if it weren't for you reaching out earlier. You heard what was said today, what Wang-Lung and Hua-Lung would do to me—rape me and sell me to others, too. I kept doing shady things because I just—thought—it was the only way to keep people close, to get people to love me—I don't know why Lao was so stupid, but he—was probably desperate."

"But that just makes me not like him."

"I know. It's stupid." Yut-Lung shrugged.

"No," Sing said, leaning out of the shadows. "It's not."

"You can stay here as long as you like," Yut-Lung said.

Sing fell asleep in Yut-Lung's bed, but Yut-Lung couldn't sleep. He went to brew a new cup of tea. He found Blanca sitting in the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey in front of him. "Oooh." Yut-Lung reached for it.

"No." Blanca yanked it away.

"I was just teasing." Yut-Lung swallowed. Are you mad at me?

"Do you have something you want to ask me?" Blanca rose.

Yut-Lung scowled. He held his hands over the steam, letting it warm him, and pulled them away before it got too hot. "Are you angry?"

"Yes."

Yut-Lung wanted to jump into the tea kettle. "At me?"

"No."

"Really?" Yut-Lung's eyes widened.

"I'm pissed at your brothers and at Golzine," said Blanca. "You are a child. Trying to survive it doesn't make you bad."

"It doesn't make you bad either, then," Yut-Lung said. I'm still afraid you'll leave me.

Because you think you're bad, don't you? For the assassin thing. For what happened to Ash. And you were terrible.

But you're not terrible right now, to me.

"I'm an adult."

"Now." You can still learn, can't you? Even if you can't ever take back what happened with Ash.

Please help me.

If you have to earn it, then can't you?

Blanca sighed. "I was proud of what you said earlier, to Sing."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung asked. He poured himself a cup of tea. Proud? No one had ever said they were proud of him. His brothers never even told him that he'd done a good job.

"Yes," said Blanca. "Proud. You and Ash both seem to have... turned out all right. In spite of it all. No, despite it all. Dino, your brothers, me." He gulped more whiskey.

"You're not like them."

"They're people who destroy others to feel like they can live."

"Stop it," Yut-Lung said, irritated. "Sure, fine, but you're not like them. You're not sadistic, and you want not to be, right? I sincerely doubt Wang-Lung or Dino Golzine are capable of looking at their faces in the mirror and seeing anything other than what they think they ought to be looking back at them!"

I saw Ash, looking back at me. And I wanted to be him.

Now, he wanted to be someone who would make his mother proud. Sing proud. Ash, Eiji, Shorter. Blanca, too. Tears leaked out from his eyes. Please...

"You're wiser than you should have to be," Blanca said. "In some ways. Sneaking out was still stupid as hell."

Yut-Lung snorted. Being scolded, at least, felt like a comfort. Because he knew Blanca wouldn't hurt him. He met his guardian's eyes. "You should be able to become who you want to become."

Who do you want to be?

I want to see him. I want to see who you want to be. I want to see you happy. But I also don't want you to go. He wiped at his eyes.

"Yut-Lung," Blanca said. "I'm not going to leave, okay? You need a guardian. Your brothers are surely not ever getting custody of you again, and you're still only sixteen."

Yut-Lung's chest felt as if light exploded inside it. "You won't leave?"

Blanca shook his head. A small smile spread across his face.

"You mean it?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

You do mean it. This is who you want to be. "Thank you," he whispered.

Blanca looked into his cup of whiskey, sighed, and dumped it down the drain. "Bear with me, though."

"Okay, Dad. If you bear with me."

"Do not call me that."

"Okay, Dad." Yut-Lung couldn't help it.

"Yut-Lung!"

"Thank you, Charlie."

Shorter pretended to mind his own business as he glanced over his shoulder. Nadia stood on tiptoe to peck Charlie on the lips.

Lao's mouth hung open. Shorter glared at him. Gonna say anything about it?

Lao didn't look like he was up for any kind of smart remark. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"You look scared shitless," said Shorter.

Lao studied his feet.

"Calm down," Shorter said. "Ash isn't going to hate you."

"He isn't?" Lao's brow furrowed. "I don't get it. Why not? I basically—"

"Yut-Lung already texted me that he didn't hate you."

"He will. Sing's staying with him."

"Yeah," said Shorter. "Sing, I don't know about. I mean, the reason he's pissed at you is all your fault, you know that, right?"

Nadia shut the door. She headed to the kitchen instead of intervening, so Shorter took that as her blessing.

"Instead of actually listening to Sing and what he wanted and what he felt, you had to go and decide you knew what was best for him, and he almost did get strangled by Wang-Lung and had to break into the house to save your sorry ass in addition to ours," Shorter said. He glared at him. "You're his older brother? Then you should act like it, instead of being an arrogant kid assuming you know everything when really you don't know anything about anything important as it relates to Sing, or to Ash, or to me. If you were really worried, then why didn't you ask me things? Or did you hate me too?"

"No!" Lao shouted. "Of course not! Shorter, I—you know I look up to—"

"So you were really petty," said Shorter, leaning back. "And jealous, weren't you? That your brother had other people to look up to. Well, maybe if you didn't try to control him he would look up to you too! Or if you just trusted him to make some of his own decisions. What's he ever done to make you not trust him?"

"Shut up!"

"It's true," Shorter continued, fury shaking him. "All of it, isn't it? You just don't want to be left alone. Again. So you hurt the people you were trying to protect. Sing, and me. Congratulations."

Lao gaped at him. And then his face crumpled. He doubled over. Loud sobs tore from his throat.

Shorter knew they'd called Lao and Sing's mother from the police station. She hadn't shown, despite answering the call. So she knew. She just chose something or someone or who the hell even knew what else.

And his rage snapped, breaking. Exhaustion settled into his shoulders.

"None of us hate you, though," Shorter managed. "I mean, I'm pissed at you. A lot. But I don't hate you, and neither does Ash. I texted him, too, to ask. He said as much. He said he doesn't blame you."

"Huh?" Lao lifted his face, tears and snot running down it.

Shorter dropped down next to Lao, showing him the texts. "See?"

Lao wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"I don't hate you either," Shorter said again. He remembered trying to convince Nadia they were alive, back at that funeral home, clinging to the belief for months, and the cold realization they weren't.

She's not coming.

"But you're all about loyalty," said Lao.

"Yeah," said Shorter, tongue heavy in his mouth. "And when I fucked up, Ash still wanted to be my friend."

"Ow," Ash complained as the doctor examined his head, tutting about how many stitches he'd need. He glanced at Max, standing in the corner of the small emergency room. It reeked of antiseptic.

"Eiji's okay." Max had told him this when they got to the hospital, and that was all Ash wanted to hear. He's okay. He's okay. He's okay.

He still couldn't fathom what it would take to launch himself from that window.

"Be back." The doctor clapped Ash on the shoulder. He jerked away. The doctor didn't notice, but Max definitely did. Ash bit his lip.

"Ash…"

"Is Jessica with Michael?" Ash asked.

Max nodded. "She said she'd be over in the morning. The doctor's probably keeping you; you lost a lot of blood."

"Yeah, the bag of blood draining into my arm is giving me that impression." Ash leaned back. "Sorry I'm taking you away from your son."

"Huh?" Max's jaw dropped. "That isn't true."

"It is so. You don't have to protect me, okay? I can handle—"

"Maybe I can't protect you," said Max. "But Ash. Yet again. Jessica and I don't see you like a burden. Michael's just worried about you. And you're our kid too, at this point."

"Huh?" Ash didn't understand. The lights of the stupid room burned his eyes. Did doctors want everyone to get migraines or something? "I'm a lot more work than him."

"Not true. You didn't cry every night at two in the morning for two years. It's only been a couple months."

Ash's heart pounded. "Max, I just almost killed Dino. I still almost wish I had."

"He killed Griffin," said Max.

Tears slipped out of Ash's eyes. "I killed Griffin."

"What?" Max pried himself off the wall he had been leaning against.

Ash told him about trying to placate that teacher to not get reported, how it hadn't worked. "It was my fault."

"Oh, Ash, no," Max said, dropping down on the foot of the cot Ash was resting on. "It isn't your fault."

"It is. I blamed you for driving that night, when I abandoned him, when the whole reason he had no options in his future was me, because he wanted to raise me, and then he still couldn't, and I couldn't even take care of him. It's me." Ash couldn't move his head without pain slashing through him, but he deserved it. He just had to lie here and cry.

"Ash," Max said. "None of that was your fault. Griff loved you. He talked about you all the time. A bunch of the guys didn't believe you were his brother and downright thought you were his son because of how much he talked about you."

The words he'd long thought but couldn't put into the air congealed in his mouth. He choked them out: "I ruined his life."

"No, Ash, you did not. He loved you. He kept so many photos of you. When he was unconscious, I told him to live for you. The reason he stayed alive so long was you. I'm sure of it. Even if he wasn't really himself. He still got to see you again." Max used tissues to wipe Ash's face. "He loved you, Ash. He did. You haven't ruined anyone's life. Not even your own."

"I miss him," Ash whispered.

"Me, too." Max wiped at his own eyes. "Ash, he said, when we were in Iraq, how much he wanted to see you again when he got back, how he wanted to see you smile."

"He never did."

"Didn't he? Even if he didn't realize it? And you think he isn't watching you now? You think he isn't proud of you? I've seen you smile. With Eiji, and with your friends, with Michael when you were helping him with his math homework yesterday. You make a lot of people smile."

Griffin... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

He never feared, growing up, that calling out for his brother after a nightmare wouldn't result in Griffin rushing into his room to defend him. He would hug him.

Even now, you left me Max and Jessica and Michael, didn't you?

You are still taking care of me.

I love you, Griff.

"Dino said he was going to adopt me tonight," Ash admitted. "I would rather have died."

"Well, he's going to jail," said Max. "And you're never going back to him."

Ash's eyes stung. "I'm sorry we—snuck out."

Max's brows rose as if he was surprised to hear Ash's apology. "Jessica and Nadia panicked when they saw that you were gone."

Guilt swarmed him. "I just—"

"I know," Max said. "But: let us help you. Please, Ash. In the future, let us handle things—"

"I'm not some helpless—"

"—child?" Max sat back on the foot of the cot Ash was resting on. "I know, now. You never had the chance to be, did you?"

Ash thought of Michael, laughing and showing off his spelling tests. Ash never got to do that. He shook his head.

"I know you're not a child in many ways," Max said again. "But you're still only sixteen. Your childhood's not over yet, and now that Dino's gone, well, there goes the biggest threat. Jessica and I want to give you one. A childhood. If you'll let us."

Ash's throat closed up. "How?" he managed.

Max shrugged. "How is up to you. All we'd ask is that you trust us as much as you can. If you can't, or if we do something to make you not trust us, tell us."

Ash swallowed.

"You're not alone, Ash."

Eiji. Max. Jessica. Shorter. Yut-Lung. Sing. "Okay," he whispered. "I can—try."

"That's all you can do," Max agreed.

Sing woke up around noon. Yut-Lung's mattress felt like sleeping on air. Rich people. He sat up, spotting Yut-Lung curled up on his couch, fast asleep. He looked almost peaceful with his eyes closed, hair strewn over the pillow and one hand daintily tucked under his chin. Sing grabbed a blanket from the bed and dumped it over him.

Sing scribbled a quick note and plastered it to the bathroom mirror.

I'll call you later from someone else's phone. I'm going to see my brother.

He slipped out of the house, the air downright icy. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he made his way towards the apartment they grew up in. He unlocked the door. Empty. His mother hadn't even come home, though he knew they'd called her.

Bitch.

"Sing?"

He turned to see Nadia standing behind him. "Shorter saw you walking here. Lao's at our place."

"Oh." Sing shrugged. So she clearly knew he was looking for his brother and not for a change of clothing. He followed her across the street to her restaurant and up the stairs to the apartment.

Shorter waved at him, looking half asleep as he sipped a cup of coffee in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt from his perch on the sofa. "Lao's in my room."

Sing nodded.

"I let him have it."

Sing's eyes popped. "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh." Shorter bit his lip. "He misses you."

Sing nodded. "I'll just talk to him, then."

Shorter smiled. "You're pretty brave to show up this soon."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Shorter shook his head.

Sing rapped on the door.

"Coming," came Lao's groggy voice. Sing shoved the door open.

Lao froze. The room was narrow, with a slanted ceiling and posters of sports teams and actresses in bikinis hung haphazardly on the walls. The dresser's top drawer was broken, clothes hanging out. "Sing."

"Yo," said Sing, shutting the door behind him. "I went to our place, but you weren't there."

Lao shook his head. "Sing, I—"

"Save it," Sing cut in. "I mean. Don't talk. Not right now. Not yet." He cussed, leaning back against the window. A draft from the frigid air wove its way in, dragging its fingernails down his spine. "Wang-Lung almost killed me yesterday. Cain saved my fucking life. And then Yut-Lung and Ash—you heard what they were saying. You heard what Wang-Lung and Golzine did to them. You spent hours and hours lecturing me and yelling at me and trying to keep me away from Ash and Yut-Lung, and all along you've been working with them?"

"Not all along," Lao croaked. "Just—the past week—or two—"

"To protect me? I needed protection from you in the end, it turns out." Sing snorted. "How does it feel, working for someone who tried to strangle me? I'm a goddamn person, Lao. I'm not just your little brother. I'm not a reflection of you. I'm not a doll for you to stuff away in your closet. I'm a person, and I have friends who—would break into the house where their worst enemies are to save me. And those friends might be murderers and other things, but they're people too. You can't control me. I'm not a wind-up toy."

Lao looked at Sing, tears streaming down his face. He sat on the bed, slumped.

"Aw, shit," said Sing. "Lao, you know—the reason I haven't been hanging with you as much is because I don't—no matter what I do, you're always going to criticize, you're always going to try and control—I can't live like that. That's not living." Please understand. Please hear me, now.

"I know you're not her," Lao managed.

"Huh?" Sing pulled himself away from the window.

Lao wiped at his eyes. "I know you're not—Mom. If anything, I'm like her. I'm—I thought I could be different, and I still—just wound up hurting you."

"Yeah," said Sing, a lump in his throat. "But you're still my brother."

Lao's eyes widened. He gulped. Tears still streamed down his cheeks.

Sing didn't think he'd ever seen his brother cry before. He was always tough, always trying, always refusing to break.

You were always broken inside, weren't you? Terrified.

You don't feel any braver than I do.

I never saw. Or, I did, but I didn't want to.

"You don't have to keep it all together," whispered Sing. "It doesn't all depend on you. It depends on me, too. So let's—keep us both safe. Both of us. And that means relying on our friends, too. Not just Shorter and Nadia, but Ash and Yut-Lung too. They care."

"Ash told Shorter he didn't hate me."

"Not surprised." Sing dropped down next to Lao. He looked up at him. The lump grew bigger. His eyes stung. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For trying. And for taking care of me all these years." It had been a burden, hadn't it? Something Lao shouldn't have to bear. But he had. And he never resented Sing, did he? You're stronger than you think.

Lao blinked.

You can be weak, too. If anything Sing would probably respect him more for that. "I don't want a hero. Or a father. I just want a brother."

Lao's eyes crumpled, and a sob tore from his throat.

Sing threw his arms around him. Lao pressed his head into Sing's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away," Sing said.

"I know why you did," Lao eked out. "I can't—blame you."

"Fair." Sing pulled back. "I want to be able to tell you things. I want to be able to—I think you're still—I love you. You're my brother." His face burned. So sentimental.

"I want to be someone you can trust," Lao admitted.

"So, we'll work on it. Together." Sing held his hand out.

Lao took it.

You're my brother. No matter what.

I love you.

"I admire you," Lao said. "Sing."

"This is too fluffy for me," Sing complained.

Lao rolled his eyes.

"Oh, can I use your phone to text Yut-Lung?" Sing asked, desperate to change the subject. "Just to let him know where I am and that we've made up, since he was asleep when I left. Also, he kind of said he related to you."

"He did?" Lao handed his phone over. "But he's not in my contacts."

"Yup, he did." Sing typed the number. "And that's okay."

"You know it by heart?" Lao asked, a strange note to his voice.

Sing shrugged.

"Well," said Lao. "He's very—attractive."

Sing smacked his brother's shoulder.

"You're free to go." The doctor gave Eiji a tired smile.

Eiji yawned. He hadn't slept much all night. He'd been halfway back to Yut-Lung's place before he realized he was bleeding badly, red pumping from a gaping cut to his bicep. His hip throbbed, but he couldn't let that slow him down. He wasn't going to let them down.

He snatched a phone from a terrified older lady, who sent the cops to him, thank God, and after the cops tied a tourniquet to his arm, with one of them dialing Charlie for him, the adults finally showed up. Ibe had blanched at the sight of Eiji with his sweatshirt soaked in blood, shivering on the pavement because the streetlights and faces around him were spinning.

"They're at Wang-Lung's place—they have guns—"

And then he passed out, and when he woke he was in an ambulance with Ibe holding his hand like he was a child. Ibe stayed by his side throughout the night, when the doctor sewed up his arm and lectured him about being lucky he hadn't severed an artery because he'd have been dead by then, and when he received a blood transfusion.

"Ash is okay," Ibe assured him later. "They all are. Ash is in the hospital, too, but he'll be all right. Just lost some blood too." The corner of his lip twitched. "You two are two peas in a pod."

"Can I see Ash?" he asked Ibe, arm in a sling.

"Of course." Ibe put his hand on Eiji's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ibe-san," Eiji whispered as they got in the elevator.

"That was a pretty foolish thing to do," Ibe admitted, pressing the seventh button.

Eiji nodded. "I just—wanted to be useful."

"You don't have to prove that, you know," Ibe said. "Whether you are or aren't, that doesn't make you worth anything more or less."

"No, but it makes me feel better."

"Eiji," said Ibe. "I don't think you saved Ash by jumping last night. Part of it, yes, but that wasn't the full thing."

Eiji's eyes widened.

"You've been jumping since you got here," Ibe said. "I just wish it'd be a little less terrifying for me." He snorted.

If I jump, it means falling, and risking breaking something.

But if I hadn't broken my ankle and torn my ligaments, I never would have come here. I never would have met Ash.

He remembered clutching the pole, staring, staring, and trying to run only to slow, his mind screaming at him.

There are far more frightening things than falling.

Ibe knocked on the door to Ash's room. Callenreese, Aslan J, read the whiteboard.

"If I have to deal with another nurse hitting on me, I'm going to jump from the window," complained Ash's voice.

"I'll kill them," offered Jessica. "You choose the method, but it's going to hurt." She did not sound like she was joking.

"I take it you're not eating your banana," said Max's voice. "I'll just—"

They rounded the corner in time to see Ash stabbing the banana on his hospital food tray with his fork. He glowered at Max. Max laughed. A small boy—Michael—sat by the hospital window, looking out at a forest of buildings.

"Ash!" Eiji exclaimed.

"Eiji!" Ash's eyes lit up. "You're okay!"

"You're okay!" Eiji gaped at him. "Your head's all bandaged!"

"You jumped out a fourth-story window!"

"I've been discharged."

Ash scowled. "Well, excuse me."

They both snorted. Ash handed Eiji half his banana.

"Want some breakfast, Michael?" Jessica asked brightly. "Shunichi, Max, come to the cafeteria."

"I already a—" Ibe started, but she stepped on his toes.

They closed the door behind them. Ash rolled his eyes, dropping the banana peel onto the tray and shoving it aside. "Max said you lost a lot of blood."

"But I'm fine," Eiji pointed out again. He clenched his fists together, bowing over. Ash, I was really so scared.

"Thank you," Ash said. "No one ever really—went and got help for me before."

"I thought I might not see you again when I jumped," Eiji said honestly. "And I knew—I absolutely had to. So I wasn't going to pass out. I had to make it." Blood felt as if it was boiling under the skin of his cheeks. "I'm so glad I did."

"And still, I almost fucked it up," Ash said. He looked outside, at the city. "I almost killed Dino, Eiji. I wanted to. Blanca and Max and Sing and Yut-Lung and Shorter all had to talk me down."

"But you didn't," said Eiji.

"I would have."

"You don't scare me," Eiji said.

Ash gulped. His eyes stayed glued on Eiji's.

The door burst open. "Mr. Callenreese!" called the doctor. "Just one more exam, and then you can go home."

"Thank God," mumbled Ash.

"I'll be right outside." Eiji scrambled towards the door. His phone was buzzing anyways. He took it from his pocket. His jaw fell open. "Mom?"

"It's actually me," said his sister. "Well, and Mom. We heard you were in some kind of accident? You got kidnapped?"

"That makes it sound worse than it was!" Eiji stopped himself. No, actually, we broke into a house to save our friend whom we thought was kidnapped but actually he had to save us all, and—

"Eiji-kun, are you all right?" demanded his mother's voice.

"Yes," Eiji said. "Really. I promise." He leaned back against the white walls. A smile glossed over his face. "I really am all right. Ibe's here, and I have friends—it's nothing. Breaking my ankle was worse."

"Well, okay," she said slowly.

"Must be my good luck charm!" chirped his sister.

"Oh, about that charm!" Eiji scowled. "That's a love charm, sis!"

"It is?" She sounded surprised. "Well, have you met anyone?"

Eiji caught his breath. The doctor emerged from the room, nodding at him. "Can I call you back?"

"That's a yes!" his sister shrieked.

"Have fun, Eiji," said his mother.

Eiji hung up. "Clean bill of health?" he called, entering the room.

Ash gave him a thumbs up, trying to wrangle his t-shirt over his bandaged scalp.

Eiji laughed, dropping his phone onto Ash's bed. "You look like a ghost."

Ash growled.

"Let me help you." Eiji helped him put on his t-shirt and then his sweatshirt.

"Thanks," Ash mumbled, face red.

"My parents didn't ask me to come home," Eiji said. "My mom called. Just now. And my sister."

Ash studied him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Eiji said. "This feels—more like a home than any place else. Not the hospital. But with Ibe, and with you."

Ash nodded.

You know what I mean. He didn't even need to say it.

"Max and Jessica told me they want to give me a childhood," said Ash. "I don't even know what that'll be like."

"Scared?" Eiji slid his eyes towards Ash.

Ash scoffed. "Absolutely not." A total lie, and they both knew it. Ash smirked.

"It's okay," said Eiji. "I was scared to come here. It's new. But I'm glad I took the risk."

"I'm glad you did, too," Ash said softly.

Eiji turned to him.

"I feel like I can—be—someone else with you," Ash said. "Or not someone else. Me, I suppose. Like all the things that have happened to me, that I've done—they don't matter, or they do, but they don't affect how you see me, and I—"

"You've always just been blonde boy who thankfully made it so that I wasn't the only new kid," Eiji said.

"Just?" Ash's jaw dropped.

Your intelligence, your strength, your bravery—it's all good, but I don't need you to be any of those things.

I like you because you're vulnerable, too, and you inspire me, and I—you're you.

"You're strange, Eiji," declared Ash. "And awesome."

"Oh, I am?" Eiji teased. "I like that."

Ash snorted. He reached out and traced the strap of the sling. Eiji shrugged. "Thank you," Ash whispered.

"Thank you," Eiji managed to say back. He didn't know why, but he was watching Ash's eyes, like jade, and he felt like he was floating but his voice box was sticky.

"Eiji?" Ash ventured.

"Yeah?"

"If I—I mean—if I were to—ask if I could kiss you, would you be upset? You can say no. You don't have to. It was just—" Now Ash's face was bright scarlet, like any other sixteen-year-old who couldn't play it cool in front of someone he liked.

And I'm that someone?

I don't want you cool. I want you on fire. I want you burning, and rising again. Eiji nodded. "I'd like that."

Ash's eyes widened. He leaned in then, face closer and closer. He cupped Eiji's chin, sliding his hand around into Eiji's hair. He hesitated.

And then he leaned down, pressing his lips into Eiji's, soft at first, and then deeper. Eiji felt the air leave him, and he copied Ash. I've never been kissed before. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but he realized that Ash didn't quite know either.

I like kissing you.

They pulled apart, Ash resting his forehead against Eiji's.

"Whoa," said Michael's voice from the doorway.

Eiji spun to see Max, Jessica, and Ibe arriving.

"Mom, they were kissing!"