Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them into hunters

-Howl, Florence and the Machine

Baam stood looking out at the city on the balcony of their hotel suite, watching the beginning of a new day. A week had passed since that first night at the fountain, though he and Lero-Ro had been back there each night since.

He thought his feelings of frustration about Lero-Ro would have eased, now that his feelings were reciprocated, but they had not. He still felt extremely restless when they were apart, counting down the hours and minutes until they would meet again. Even when they were together, there was an inner urging for something more. More than wandering around this city, a city that seemed large enough when he first got here, but now seemed confining to him and his desires. He wanted to get out of this both too dull and too busy place, and take Lero-Ro with him, but he knew he could not.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Hwaryun, who stepped out briefly onto the balcony to ask him inside. He complied and they sat down in the sitting area.

"I have received word from the Lady Skud. We are to return tomorrow. This is not going to be a problem, I hope."

This did nothing to assuage him, and he clenched his jaw. He felt very much as he had when Hwaryun had messaged him at the party, telling him it was time to leave: all this trouble, all this effort, for what?

"Keep in mind that I am only the messenger." Hwaryun added, after he failed to answer. He had not told her about this relationship – nor had he wanted to – but he was not surprised she knew, and he needed some answers from her.

"Because of Mr. Ro, you mean." He finally started.

"Yes." She had no outward reaction to his confirmation, her gaze steady as ever.

"It's finished? Why I was sent here?"

"No. As I said, we leave tomorrow."

"Hwaryun, I'm in no mood to figure this out. What was the point of all this? To have a dinner with Yuri? To have a brief affair with Mr. Ro?"

"Maybe this is why Lero-Ro helps you, because of the bond you've formed now. Maybe it is even part of why Yuri helps you."

"But their helping me in the future is part of what formed the bond here."

"A fascinating circle. I cannot entirely explain it. I can only remember what Lady Skud told you. 'The past, present and future are not as different as you think.'"

"Should I just tell him everything?" Baam asked angrily. "Who I really am, who he is? Who he will become? Does it even matter what I do?"

"Of course it matters. We wouldn't have been sent here if it didn't matter. Though I cannot stop you if you chose to do so, you know I do not recommend telling him about the future."

They had talked about this before, only briefly, because at the time they were in agreement. Baam too had not thought it wise to let on they were from the future. He did not want undue attention, and then after meeting Yuri and Lero-Ro, he did not want to change what they did. But he had already changed what they did, infinitesimally perhaps, but still, he changed things just by being here.

He could go round and round with this, and in his rising fury, it would be easy to do so. What stopped him was, ironically, the fact that he didn't have much time. He had to make up his mind. He had followed Hwaryun's guidance throughout their time here. Come what may, he wasn't going to stop now.

"Alright. I won't tell him anything, and I'll go willingly." Baam answered grimly.

"Good. You can have the suite to yourself tonight. I'll get another room, and we'll meet in the morning. I'll send you our travel information."

Baam nodded, and Hwaryun rose from the couch. She was almost at the door when she turned back to him. "My God, one more word of advice: Whatever you do tonight, I advise you make the evening memorable. Our lives do depend on it, after all."

Evening came soon enough, and Baam dragged himself to the park – his and Lero-Ro's meeting place. The passing of time had done nothing to improve his mood; the ticking of the clock marking the seconds and minutes and hours of his final day here.

"Good evening, Mr. Bijou!" called Lero-Ro as soon as he came within sight. Despite himself, Baam smiled, and they quickly fell into step with each other.

"Is there anything you want to do tonight? We could go see a movie." Lero-Ro suggested.

Baam was absolutely leaving tomorrow, but at least he could give Lero-Ro a choice as to what he wanted to make of tonight.

"There is something I need to discuss with you, but not here. Would you be willing to come to my hotel?"

There was a definite shift in the air. "Yes." returned Lero-Ro, after a slight pause.

They made their way back in relative silence, though Baam could sense Lero-Ro's confusion, what Baam meant by this offer. In some ways, Baam himself wasn't sure what he was suggesting, only that he did not want to have this conversation at some street cafe or crowded restaurant, nor in the park hoping no one would walk by.

They moved from the bustling streets, to the hotel lobby where the cacophony of voices and lively music from the restaurant and bar pushed against the walls. The vague elevator music briefly kept them company as they rose upward. Finally there was silence upon exiting into the hallway.

"It's a beautiful room." observed Lero-Ro, after Baam had unlocked the door. Baam supposed that was true – with its ornate lamps, gilded frame paintings, and marble tables – as he gestured toward the velvet green sofa, yet he found his companion more captivating then all of it, regardless of the fact that by the standards of this place, he was woefully underdressed in casual blue and khaki.

"What was it you wished to talk about?" Lero-Ro asked, after they had taken seats.

Baam sighed. This was so much easier said than done."I am sorry this is so sudden, but I will be leaving this area tomorrow morning." After saying this, Baam felt a weight lift off his chest, much to his surprise. Lero-Ro looked at him for a moment, looked away for another moment, then answered. "I see. Mr. Bijou, you aren't a D-Class Regular, are you?"

Another surprise, also another weight off his chest. "What gave it away?"

"There were a few things: When Princess Yuri noticed what a powerful wave controller you are; Mr. Evan's wary behavior toward Ms. Madga; the fact that a Scarlett Witch is with you at all. It's also a well known secret this hotel is owned by FUG.

"Then it occurred to me if Princess Yuri was traveling, there might be others doing the same. I was already curious, so I checked yours and Ms. Magda's profiles. They were sparse, but not sparse enough to be an obvious forgery. They seemed like they could be the perfect cover. When I did a little digging, I saw they were only registered in the database about a week ago."

"And you still wanted to see me, knowing all that?" Baam asked, chiding himself. He had underestimated Lero-Ro's intelligence and abilities here, and was genuinely curious why he had agreed to continued meetings with him.

"I did. I… trust you. I believe you're a good person, whatever your reasons are. I'm embarrassing myself, aren't I? Especially since this is goodbye, isn't it. We won't be in contact."

The moment of truth. He had hoped to have some measure of grace when the time came. Instead, he wanted to act much as Princess Yuri had; To curse this Tower, for doing what it always did, for forcing him to chose: who would he abandon?

As much as he wanted to stay with Lero-Ro awhile longer – as painful as this all was, and as guilty as he felt – he was not willing to get stranded here in time. He would and was about to abandon him – just as Princess Yuri had recently done – in order to return to his friends, the friends he had fought so hard to be with.

"No, we won't." Baam answered, strain evident in his voice.

"I see." Lero-Ro repeated, a faraway look in his eyes, but then he turned to Baam, reached out for his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"I had the feeling we wouldn't have very long together, though I hoped it would be a little longer than this. There are things I wish I had done earlier, but we still have tonight, right? Tell me about yourself: Where are you from? Where did you grow up? Whatever you want to tell me, I'd be glad to hear it."

Baam smiled, bittersweet. Still, he enjoyed the feeling of Lero-Ro's hand in his. How to explain where he had been born, The Floor of Death, in the belly of a long fallen beast; that he himself had been killed and resurrected by the powerful magic of his mother; the mystery of his father, to some a saint, to some a monster, in some ways the same way Baam himself was regarded: as deliverance or as doom.

The cave where he had lain alone. No sunlight, no vegetation, only rocks and darkness and dreams. Until Rachel and her shining light had descended down upon him. His teacher, his companion, his everything. She brought him food and books, brushed his hair, taught him how to act, how to be.

His frantic chase – and unbeknownst to him at the time, return – to the Tower. Headon, Yuri, Evan, Khun, Rak and all the others. Still, he could work between the lines, to fill in the spaces without revealing too much.

"I did not know my parents. A girl supported me, pretty much raised me. I followed her into the Tower, but as I'm sure you know, the Tower has a way of pulling you in directions that you least expect…"

"So you finished, what you came here for?" asked Lero-Ro, after they had been conversing for some time. The hour was late now, their speech having eaten away much of the night. Baam had been content with that at first, but he was agitated by a growing hunger within; for a number of reasons.

He had rarely felt greed in his life. He'd only ever wanted for simple things – after all, he'd lived with very little in his cave – little sustenance, dressed in rags; alone most of the time – yet he survived. He related to what Goseng said on the 20th Floor: why do we bother climbing, don't we have everything we want right here? Lodgings, food, friends, a good time. What was the point of all this fighting and betrayal and bloodshed? What was it that drove people to do these things?

He still couldn't say, however he knew he felt greedy now, to thread Lero-Ro's hair through his fingers, to feel his lips against his own, greedy for something he couldn't even name, just that he wanted more, more than to merely sit beside each other, so close yet so far apart. Then, he heard the Blue Thyrssa's call from deep within himself:

"Take what you want. Nothing is stopping you. This is the way to be, you'll see…"

He'd already had doubts; the Blue Thyrssa's approval only made him more wary, because he kept hearing the echo of Hwaryun's final guidance: "Whatever you do, I advise you to make the night memorable. Our lives do depend on it, after all."

What if he pushed too far and botched this whole thing up at the end? He was leaving tomorrow, was that even appropriate? Or conversely, he was leaving tomorrow, why not make the most of the night? What if he did too little and still botched this whole thing up at the end?

He found himself longing his friends' advice. Analysis was Khun's realm of expertise, not his. Or Rak, whom – though Baam suspected had deeper reasons for climbing the Tower than he let on – led his life simply and straight-forwardly: "I am your leader, you turtles are my prey. Let's get something to eat." In effect, just do what you want to do.

Hwaryun of course had given him sage advice, but hers was impersonal. She left this decision entirely up to him. Maybe that was the crux of it: it was not Khun, or Rak, or Hwaryun, or even Lady Skud who was making this decision; it was him. He was the one sent here, for better of worse, he had to make this decision, and he knew what he wanted. Maybe it was okay for he and the Blue Thyrssa to be in agreement every now and then, he thought to himself, as he reached up to touch the side of Lero-Ro's face.

"Yes, though what I will remember about this place is you, not my business."

Lero-Ro gave him a smile – a sad smile – as he reached up and covered Baam's hand, causing Baam to briefly reminiscence about that first night, after the concert, sitting in the park beside the fountain. Then, much to Baam's surprise, Lero-Ro let go and rose from the sofa. Baam followed him more out of confusion than anything else, as he headed for the door.

"It's gotten late. I should be heading back. Thank you, for everything, Mr. Bijou. I will remember you long after I leave this place."

Too soon, Baam thought to himself. Just as when dinner with Princess Yuri ended, just as when Hwaryun messaged him to leave the party, just as when this morning Hwaryun passed along Lady Skud's decree that it was time to go. Too soon. Though, there was a difference tonight, and just as he did at the party, Baam spoke without thought:

"Stay."

And when Lero-Ro froze, as though what Baam had said was incomprehensible, in a foreign tongue, Baam spoke again.

"Stay with me tonight."

Lero-Ro looked back to him, then stepped back toward him then they were together, first with foreheads touching, then lips, with Lero-Ro's arm around his shoulders, and Baam's wrapped around his waist, gripping his hip. And just like his previous evenings with him, Baam's worries started to fall away one by one, until it seemed like nothing at all to ask him to go to bed with him, and it seemed like nothing at all when he accepted.

"Mr. Bijou?" Lero-Ro called quietly out into the dim of the room, illuminated only by the streetlights outside, of a city that never seemed to sleep, not entirely anyway. They were sharing the bed, clothes long discarded, the heat and the passion having given way to a heavy calm, a calm that was beginning to appear more an eye of the storm than a safe harbor.

"I think it's time to drop the formalities, don't you, Lero?" answered Baam quietly. Lero's response was a brief chuckle.

"I suppose it is." When Lero-Ro said no more, Baam prompted him:

"What was it you were going to say?"

"This… seems more like a fairy tale than real life."

"Oh?" Baam answered happily, albeit somewhat sleepily. "How so?"

"Our chance meeting, how well we get along, this room – it's decadent, like something out of a magazine. It all seems so perfect."

Baam smiled to himself, despite the creeping awareness of his eminent departure, not only because what Lero-Ro said warmed his heart, but also with the thought of if he could only know how little "chance" was actually involved in their meeting, though what Lero-Ro said next stopped him cold.

"You're my first."

Baam propped himself up on his side and looked over, with equal parts thrill and dread, to see Lero-Ro calmly looking up at the ceiling, then turning when he felt Baam's gaze.

"Don't feel guilty. You made no secret that you couldn't stay. I… made my choice."

Baam's thoughts began to race. There was something, a knowledge that had been persistently knocking upon his awareness, but one that he had refused to let fully in until now: Lero-Ro lived in his time. It was possible to see him again. An older Lero-Ro, but Lero-Ro nonetheless.

If Baam contacted him immediately upon his return, centuries would have passed for him. Yet, he could. He could tell him, but should he? To tell him they would one day meet again? At this moment, he wanted to. To stoke this fire, keep it burning. But was that wise? To keep him hanging with a promise that he would someday return. And even if he did tell him, what then? Would they even want to see each other in this way? Maybe it was better to leave it be, to leave it in the past.

For now, he had a little time left. He could put the decision off for a little while longer, and at least it wasn't terribly difficult to respond to what Lero-Ro had just said.

"Then so did I. You're my first."

Lero-Ro looked slightly surprised, then returned with. "See? Even more like a fairy tale."

"I suppose it is." Baam echoed from before, while Lero-Ro smiled in kind.

Baam sighed, letting the soothing heat of the shower wash over his face one last time before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower stall. Morning had come, and he was preparing himself for the inevitable, however impossible it seemed: it was time to go.

They had a brief, yet solemn breakfast; neither of them having much of an appetite, then parted ways to wash up before saying their final goodbyes. And still, Baam had not made his decision about what he would tell Lero-Ro, as he dressed and left the bathroom. He had little here, and the few things he had were already packed. There was no more putting this off, and Lero-Ro was waiting for him in the front room of the suite.

"Safe travels today, Bijou." Lero-Ro started.

"Thank you." Baam replied, gripping the handle of his bag tighter.

"I have something for you." Lero-Ro pushed something into Baam's free hand, lacking his usual grace. It was a locket of his hair, bright golden yellow in the morning sun, tightly braided and tied on both ends with what appeared to be basic line from his inventory.

"I'm sorry, this is the best I could do under the circumstances. Please remember me kindly." Lero explained, then his face fell and he started to cry. Baam reached out to him, feeling utterly helpless; he acknowledged his responsibility, in that he had made his choices, yet he hadn't chosen to feel this way about Lero-Ro. Neither had he chosen to be sent to this place and time, but nevertheless, he knew his actions hurt, and they would continue to hurt long after Baam was gone from this place. There was the other pressing matter as well: the magnitude of Hwaryun's last words to him, the knowledge that somehow, in someway – someway he didn't even understand – his and his friends' lives depended on his actions right now.

"I know we've only knew each other briefly, but I'm very fond of you. I meant what I said, that night at the fountain, it feels like I've known you much longer."

"I feel the same." Baam answered quietly, his arms tight around Lero-Ro's back as he continued to cry. He was so thin, though Baam knew that was not to be mistaken for weakness, because regardless of what Lero-Ro had said about the importance of luck, the need for strength – inner and outer – was undeniable, and Lero-Ro would never have become a Ranker without it. Though at this moment, that was hard to remember.

Baam searched for something, anything he could say to comfort and repeatedly came up blank. He didn't know if Lero-Ro and Yuri ever met again. He didn't know what trials Lero-Ro would need to overcome in his future. He wanted to shake his head at the injustice of it all, until he found himself for the third and final time speaking without thinking.

"Lero, we will see each other again. It will be a long, long time. Long after you have given up hope, so do not wait for me. Live you life as best you can. I know you can climb this Tower, I believe in you.

"Bijou is not my name, I will give my true name, when we meet again, and I will have this keepsake, so you will know I am who I say I am. Please do not doubt, I love you dearly, and know that I have no regrets about our time together, come what may."

Lero-Ro pulled away briefly to clean his face, and smiled despite his tears. "I love you, too and I look forward to that day, Bijou. I know you will do great things."

Baam pulled him forward into a brief kiss. They were both drained, neither had slept much last night, wanting to spend their last hours together awake, but Baam infused it with the promise, however distant, that they would meet again, before pulling away.

"So do I. Stay here as long as you need to. No one will disturb you. Until then."

"Until then." Lero-Ro echoed back to him and waved goodbye as Baam opened and shut the door. Through the hall, down the elevator, the lobby, down the streets, which were both oblivious and witness to his steady march toward the airport, he willed his legs to move, even though they felt like stone, as he fought off the image of Lero-Ro alone at the hotel, because if he lingered on it too long, he could not leave. Or Lero-Ro returning to his team's quarters, fending off their curiosity as to his whereabouts last night. Of course Baam could answer that: Lero-Ro was with him, had given him everything.

Now Baam was second by second moving away from him, with hardly any explanation at all – only inferences, suggestions – moving to a place where he would leap so far ahead, by decades upon decades that who could say what the impact of these few weeks here would be. But he could not think about that now. Rather than drowning in the ripples, he would plant his feet one minuscule step at a time in accordance with the one certainty he knew: it was time to go home.