Chapter XIII

"I have a favor to ask everyone," Chrollo begins.

He stands at the top of the staircase and looks down on his Spiders gathered before him. They had arrived in Desara City earlier than expected, though he does not mind at all. He is pleased to see them all again after three months, brief though it may seem. His grey eyes meet everyone's eager faces as he lets the silence hang in the hotel's lobby. He notices that Nobunaga's team has not yet arrived. Pity.

"Two days ago, I enlisted the help of a Desaran monk. He had the abilities to rewrite memories, which I used upon Valtiel," Chrollo narrates, choosing the quickest explanation possible. "The ability could only do much: it can rewrite memories but not the past." He could see how Uvogin's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "With Valtiel as a test subject, I made it possible that the memories she would remember are not those of her past with the Kurta Clan, but with us−everyone of us. So if she asks something and reminisces something about our childhood in Meteor City, you will all endeavor to lie to her and convince that her memories are real."

Again, his eyes roam around for violent reactions from the Spiders. He receives none, but Uvogin scratching the back of his spiky hair and Pakunoda nodding to Yuan. "May I count on you?" Chrollo asks.

Uvogin raises a hand. "So, that's it then? She's one of us now?"

Chrollo closes his eyes and nods. "Yes."

"But her memories are fake? She remembers fake memories?"

"That's right."

Uvogin grins wide, canines showing. "That's mean, Danchou."

Phinks crosses his arms over his chest. "Better that than having her remember the Kurta insects," he says with an annoyed snort. "Can't have her asking questions too hard to answer. Lying should be easier."

"And less of a hassle," Franklin agrees.

"I am counting on everyone," Chrollo says, and then pauses, hand on his chin, as if a thought suddenly crosses his mind. "She is extremely curious though. I don't doubt these new memories would raise so many questions," he warns them. "Her curiosity might overwhelm you, but try to act as naturally as you can."

"We can take care of that," Shalnark chirps.

"Don't worry!" Uvogin flashes him a thumbs-up sign. "We got your back!"

"Thank you, everyone." With that, Chrollo turns on his heels and heads back further inside the hotel.

It was Feitan's freedom to choose which building the Troupe should take as their temporary base for their meeting. Knowing Feitan and his sadistic tendencies, he had chosen one of the most populous buildings in the city−Sapphire Desara Hotel−and massacred the employees and guests, and stuffed their broken bodies in the indoor swimming pool. He returned to the temple an hour later, his dark robes stained by darker red, his claws still dripping with fresh blood and torn flesh. Thanks to his efforts, the Phantom Troupe has now a luxurious seventy-story hotel as their base.

Chrollo had chosen the most elegant of the master suites−easily. It looks more like a royal bedroom than a master suite: all red-and-gold accents, from the velvet curtains and ropes, wallpaper and carpet, a set of three golden chandeliers, and a king-sized canopy bed. The room is dazzling to his trained eyes, but he loves the room's balcony the best of all. It overlooks the desert city and its indigo-clad people. More than that, it faces west, giving him the best view to watch the setting sun.

Too bad the weather only cools at night.

He opens the door and lets himself inside the room. He shrugs off his black coat and hangs it over one of the chairs present. Next he fumbles with the buttons of his white shirt, undoing them down to his sternum, revealing a muscular torso. He looks to the bed, finding his treasure not there. "Valtiel?"

Balcony. Of course, she should be there. He runs fingers through his raven hair, grown too wild and messy for his own and Pakunoda's liking that she herself asked to trim the bangs and back for him. Laughing, Chrollo had declined the offer.

He steps into the sun-kissed semi-circular balcony and rests his chin on her right shoulder. She is watching a long line of camels passing by on the horizon. He watches, too. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fine. A little strange, perhaps."

"Strange?"

"My head aches, though I don't know why."

"Must be the weather." Hell knows his head aches from the heat. "We are not made for the desert."

She grins at his vexation. It has been going on since they arrived. "Speak for yourself, Danchou. I like the sun, but I think I like the rain even better." She turns around and faces him, her hands pushing at his chest lightly. "Are the others here yet?"

He steps away from her and leans a forearm on the railing. "Some. Nobunaga's team is rather late."

"Shouldn't we be worried?"

"There's nothing to be worried about. Nobunaga is strong, and so are Machi and Omokage."

"I am not strong," Valtiel observes in a quiet voice. The breeze picks up, stirring her platinum blonde hair that Shalnark had helpfully tied into a loose ponytail after she collapsed. It is still loose, locks framing her face, a thin silk ribbon of light green tying the mess together.

"That's why I am here," Chrollo murmurs, his eyes on the reddening horizon.

She scoffs, unimpressed. "It would be nice to be strong on my own, not relying on you."

An amused curl on his lips. "You've done well relying on me for the past three months."

Her body jerks towards him, her expression screaming that she does not agree. But one look at Chrollo's smug smirk and the playful gleam in his eyes makes her reconsider: because he is right. She has relied on him for far too long, doing everything he bids her. Why ever not? When the world is a confusing shambles and her memories are only of a dark place.

The fight drains out of her system and she slumps, her hip against the railing, arms over her chest. Her right arm is still bandaged from the car accident she and Chrollo had two days ago. Reminded of that, she plans to thank Shalnark and Phinks for saving them.

Chrollo speaks after minutes of comfortable silence. "Remember the time when we fished for food in a frozen lake back home?"

At once, her face brightens at the memory. "And Nobu-san slipped and fell?" They laugh at that, though Chrollo's laugh is more reserved as his eyes observe her from his dark lashes. Valtiel's smile widens, warmed at the thought. "And when he fell, he actually caught some frogs."

"That was a tasty dinner."

"It was!" she beams, laughing. "And he was rubbing that into our faces for the entire week."

"But the dinner only lasted for one night," Chrollo adds with a fond smile. "Uvo got most of them."

They speak mostly of their shared childhood, with Chrollo testing the waters on each memory. He carefully mentions the memories he had written into hers, overwhelming her childhood with the Kurta Clan. So far, his hypothesis is correct and it seems he has no need to worry.

A knock on the door stops their conversation. Skipping, Valtiel answers the call and smiles at Pakunoda. The blonde older woman smiles back and puts her head round the door. Pakunoda whistles, admiring the extravagant room compared to her simple double room.

Chrollo steps out of the balcony. "Paku, what can we do for you?"

"Team Nobunaga has just arrived, Danchou."

"Have they now?" He glances at the ornate wall clock. It is almost eight in the evening−too early to start. "It should do just fine. Can you send Yuan and Uvogin for a supply run?" He turns to the other. "Val, is there something you would like to eat for New Year's Eve?"

She looks up at the ceiling, thinking. "I think I'll have a chocolate cake!"

Pakunoda smiles at them both. "Anything for you, Danchou?"

"No, thank you. I am good with anything."

"Okay. I'll relay the order."

"And tell them we would start in two hours."

"Roger that." Pakunoda shuts the door behind her.

Valtiel stretches her limbs high above her head as she walks back to the bed. She finds Chrollo lazing on his side, legs crossed over the mattress, his black shoes discarded to the floor. It leaves him with only his socks, and his toes wiggle as he finds his bookmark and falls silent. She stares at him for a while, and then smirks deviously as an idea comes to mind.

Like a child jumping into a pool, she dives face first onto the bed. Chrollo bounces along with the mattress.

"What was that for?" he grunts, picking up his bookmark.

"Nothing." She lays flat on her stomach and snatches his pillow from underneath his stretched legs. She clutches it between her arms and head, and closes her eyes. "I'm hungry."

"You will eat when everyone eats."

"When is that?"

"When Uvo and Yuan return with the supplies."

"But you said we're not starting until two hours later. That's too long."

"You just finished my share of the pudding." He sighs at the sad memory of his pudding going to her. One of the many perks of staying in this hotel is that it has a great supply of puddings for the guests. Uvogin and Phinks had wagered earlier which one can eat most pudding. The rest fell into Valtiel's hands.

"No need to resent me for that," she says, chiding.

He hums, mostly to himself. He combs his bangs to the side, mentally noting whether he should take Pakunoda's offer or not. Perhaps he should. His hair grows thick and fast anyway.

She yawns, burying her face into his pillow. "What are you reading?"

A shuffle of the book. She peeps one eye and frowns. "The works of Han Feizi?" she says with distaste.

"You sound like you hate it," he observes with a quiet chuckle, though he did not miss the way her body stiffens upon reading the book's title. There is something he is missing here, something Valtiel is loathe to share to him. He decides to be neutral about it. "Have you read his works?"

"Just breezed through it for a while," she says. "Read it to me, Danchou."

"Which part?"

"Anything you like."

"I like the majority of the book," he points out, but flips through the pages to find something he found the most interesting. "Han Feizi was a philosopher who focused on warfare period of his country. According to him, warring kings and generals commit ten faults."

Valtiel hums, thinking back on her disastrous night with the Kakin prince. Perhaps the next time they see each other, she could converse with him more about Han Feizi−though she is really not looking forward for that time to come. She needs to be stronger, not in the same incredulous tier as Uvogin or Phinks, but in a subtle, more practical way. She peers at Chrollo's smiling face and wonders if he meant what he said earlier. Does she really have him for strength?

His serene voice, reading most of the chapter, lulls her to sleep.

Two hours later, Chrollo wakes her with a soft nudge. "Time to get ready."

Across the bedroom, the Spider head fixes his white shirt and buttons them all back to his throat. He leaves his black coat, and then stuffs his sock-covered feet back to his shoes. Sleepily, Valtiel scratches her hair and lets it more loosely than before, falling in lazy ringlets over her back. She wears a short navy blue kimono with long sleeves and white floral patterns.

"Come on." He holds the door open for her. "Let's go to work."

"You mean celebrate?" She brushes past him, smiling over her shoulder. "It is New Year's Eve, yes?"

"Of course." He leads her across the hallway, similarly extravagant as their room. The Troupe's meeting is set to take place in the bar on the hotel's rooftop. He heard from Shalnark earlier that there is also a rooftop pool to enjoy. Tonight should be interesting.

Arriving at the rooftop, the pair is beset with Nobunaga's loud complaints.

"Thirty hours worth of travel time!" The samurai is roaring, seated cross-legged on one of the bar's colorful plush seats. He has his sword across his knees. "Thirty hours and Omokage here doesn't even sleep!"

"I was merely admiring someone from afar," the puppeteer says in his defense. He sits across the samurai, perched on a barstool.

Pakunoda is serving drinks while Shalnark is hacking into the bar's music system. Two seconds later, a loud party music blasts through the speakers mounted on the wall.

Bonolenov caresses his head. "What is it with this awful music, Shal?"

Shalnark emerges from behind the counter and gives a cheerful laugh. "Why not, Bono? It's modern! This is what young adults like me, Paku, Machi and even Valtiel should listen to!"

The other man shakes his head. "Still, it is very awful and the words make no sense."

"Just change it, Shal." Phinks takes a large gulp of his alcoholic drink, and slams the glass on the counter.

"Aww, but I only just tweaked it into this," Shalnark whines.

"Then you can take that up to Danchou." Phinks raises his glass to where their leader and the Kurta girl are entering. He nods his acknowledgement to their arrival and clinks his glass with Kortopi's.

"About time!" Nobunaga jumps to his feet and starts another series of complaints.

"All right." Chrollo absentmindedly agrees to everything that the samurai is complaining about−from the last minute transaction to the tedious thirty-hour flight from across the world to Omokage's creepy stares at the women in the blimp, and even to the blimp's smelly bathroom. "Okay, I get it, Nobunaga. It is a shame that you have to go through all those things. Where are the others?"

"Right here!" Uvogin heaves himself from the pool and stands proudly only in his boxer shorts.

Chrollo puts a protective hand over Valtiel's innocent eyes. "Put on some clothes first, Uvo."

Feitan hisses, his dark bandana pulled down for once. "Yes, that's unsightly, Uvogin."

The tallest Spider rolls his eyes and makes a grab for the nearest towel. "No need to be jealous of how well-endowed I am, Fei," he shoots back with a pointed smirk, comparing his massive build to Feitan's short and lean body.

The entire rooftop rattles with suggestive laughs and snickers. Feitan growls and chugs another drink with Phinks and Kortopi. On the other side, Shalnark changes the music into another song−still modern, but with a more mellow tone and calm lyrics. Bonolenov raises his glass in approval.

With the first round of playful banter over, Chrollo takes up the head of the bar, sitting on the central barstool, while his Spiders gather before him like hushed schoolchildren. Valtiel joins their ranks, sharing a plush chair with Machi and Pakunoda.

"Tonight, our game of steal-and-sell ends," Chrollo begins in his silky yet authoritative voice. "We stole and planned on selling those we have stolen. We agreed that whichever team has received the most payment would get to orchestrate the next course of our mission. Team leaders−" He finds them in the crowd and smirks at them−"time to find out who won our little game."

"Oh, this should be gold," Nobunaga mutters as he stands and joins the four other leaders.

"Bank statements are the only valid proof of our transactions," Chrollo reminds them.

One by one, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Uvogin, Nobunaga and Chrollo himself produce a printed copy of their bank statements and turn them facedown on the counter. Uvogin and Nobunaga are glaring daggers at each other, two best friends at the height of their fierce rivalry; while the three remaining leaders simply smile, all confident that their teams did the best.

Machi speaks from her seat. "Who should declare the winners, Danchou?"

"Well, it cannot be me," he answers. "I am one of the leaders."

"Doll face then," Omokage chimes in from his dim corner. "She should have no solid allegiances as of yet," he adds. He knows about the favor Chrollo asked the others that afternoon, but chooses to ignore it.

"Valtiel should be fine," Phinks adds, belching loudly in Feitan's direction.

"Disgusting," Feitan rasps, poking the end of his umbrella to the blond. Then he turns to their leader and nods his agreement. "If little girl can read, then she reads."

"Of course I can read." Valtiel fires back, shooting him a glare across the room.

Before another brawl could start, Franklin waves a large hand and smiles tenderly at Valtiel. "You go right ahead, Val. Don't mind them," he tells her, and she follows his advice, joining the team leaders up front.

Nobunaga grimaces. "Read it correctly, kid."

Valtiel sticks her tongue out at him, childishly, and the other Spiders snicker at her defiance. She takes up the papers and compares them one after the other. At length, her lips spread into an amused smile. It prompts the team leaders, minus Chrollo−still confidently calm−to lean closer to her.

Pakunoda blinks. "Well, Val?"

Her golden eyes flash at Chrollo's direction. He smiles, giving his permission. "All right, then. Let's start with the third runner-ups." Her statement is met with confusion and furrowed brows. "Two groups happen to collect the same amount of money," she explains. "Here they are. For the third runner-ups: Team Uvogin and Team Nobunaga!"

"WAIT, WHAT?!" Nobunaga and Uvogin snatch the papers from her and compare their earnings. No matter how many times they glare back and forth, the numbers remain the same.

"Impossible!" Uvogin roars at his best friend's face. "You cheater!"

"How the heck am I a cheater?" Nobunaga dabs a finger on the other's chest. "Great! Now that just means we are on the same level of thinking! That's too less for me!"

Franklin peels them both away from each other before Uvogin ever thinks of using his Big Bang Impact on the rooftop of a seventy-story building. "That's enough, you two," he scolds them. "Suck it up like men and be quiet. You guys are too noisy and childish."

Uvogin looks offended. "Come on, big guy! We are in the same team! You should be on my side!"

"Yes, but we lost so there's nothing we can do about it," Franklin points out, matter-of-fact. He turns back to the young woman and other team leaders. "Keep reading, Val."

"Okay." She sighs, glad of the reprieve. Uvogin and Nobunaga sulk back with the rest of the Spiders. "Our second runner-up…" She looks up from the paper, meeting Pakunoda's brown eyes. "Team Pakunoda."

"Shame," Pakunoda says with a deep breath. She looks at her team members, Yuan and Kortopi, seated beside each other in anticipation. "Sorry, you guys."

Kortopi shakes his head, his mop of blue hair swishing. "It's nothing to be sorry about, Paku."

Yuan, his electric-blue eyes downcast, shrugs. "We did our best," he murmurs.

Patting Valtiel on the wrist as a form of thanks, Pakunoda returns to her seat beside Machi. Her brief touch on the other's skin sends a flurry of memories, too short to comprehend, but she knows she did see Valtiel and Chrollo lounging on their king-sized bed, almost intimate as lovers. She glances at Chrollo, whose attention is focused on the Kurta's next announcement.

"Our winning team−" Valtiel grins, having the gall to wink triumphantly at her leader, who inches forward in anticipation. She feels rather malicious doing this to him but−oh well. "Our winning team... is none other than… Team Shalnark!"

"Wh−" Chrollo sputters, his handsome smile dropping in an instant.

Suddenly, there is Phinks throwing up his glass to the air and letting the beer rain down upon them. He whoops and punches the nearest wall, blasting a large hole through it. He rushes to his team leader and hoists Shalnark over his shoulder, the both of them flashing victory poses. Feitan, in his partner's haste and excitement, gets the brunt of the spilled beer and sniffs at the unpleasant scent clinging on his dark hair and robes. With narrowed eyes, he tackles Phinks on the stomach. Phinks and Shalnark roll to the floor and smash against the seats and tables in the bar. Feitan stands above them, leering.

Thus is the celebratory form of Team Shalnark.

Chrollo, meanwhile, checks the bank statements and narrows his eyes. He knows he should trust Valtiel's judgement, but there is a competitive part of him that actually wants to win. Still, much to his dismay, Shalnark's team accumulated 71.3 billion Jenny to his team's 71.1 billion.

"We lost, Danchou." Valtiel catches his attention by pulling at his shirt's sleeve. "Are you disappointed?"

"No, of course not." Remembering the horror she had to face through alone during their last transaction, how could he be disappointed? He tucks her hair behind her ear. "We did our best. And we had our fun travelling, did we not? I think those are what matters."

"Yes," she says, warming to his touch.

The others are not so accepting.

Nobunaga snorts, hands under his trailing sleeves. "Great! Now we have these idiot three to plan our next mission. Oh, somebody save the Phantom Troupe from getting wrecked."

Machi nudges him with her elbow. "Stop whining about our loss. It makes us look worse."

Omokage opens his mouth to speak, but Nobunaga glares and the puppeteer says no more.

Chrollo clears his throat to stop the ensuing brawl. "Congratulations on your triumph, Shalnark," he says, masking his disappointment with an approving hand gesture. "As per the game's rules, your team has the freedom to choose what we should do for our next mission: the items, the setting, the method. Everyone would follow your orders without questions."

"Actually−" Uvogin raises a hand−"What if their plan doesn't work?"

"We would still push through, Uvo," says Chrollo. "I am sure their team has already planned something."

"We sure have!" Shalnark gleams. He ducks under the counter and starts hacking the music and lighting system again. The music becomes louder, and the lights flash a quiet purple and blue. "We can discuss the details of the mission some other time. Right now, let's celebrate! It's New Year!"

For all their differences, the Spiders agree and start messing around the rooftop.

Pakunoda returns behind the counter and concocts drinks to everyone's taste. She has Bonolenov, Yuan and Chrollo as her customers, seated in one file before her.

The others immediately plunge themselves outside; Uvogin has stripped himself off his clothes and dives into the pool. Nobunaga follows suit, shedding his midnight blue kimono and cannonballs to the cold waters. Machi hisses as the water splashes on her pink leg warmers. She cups a steaming mug of tea in her hands and curls up in one of the outdoor plush seats. Kortopi joins her on the couch, warm in his woolen gloves and beanie.

On the other side of the rooftop, Shalnark goads Phinks and Franklin into another drinking match, his red cellphone capturing every moment of his friends' drunken states. Omokage watches the three of them with glazed black eyes, as he chooses to keep to himself rather than run half-naked like Uvo and Nobunaga do.

Valtiel laughs as she watches Uvogin and Nobunaga try to push each other into the water. Given their strength, it only makes the pool overflow. She crosses the rooftop and settles right beside Omokage, her bright face into his frenzied one. "Are you okay?"

"More than okay," the puppeteer confirms. He dares not to inch closer to the Kurta. Not if he wants to incite the possessiveness their leader has. Omokage did notice that Chrollo's possessiveness turned up a notch after three months. Interesting. "Looks like you settled right in, and very comfortably I might add."

"Why not?" She shrugs her shoulders, eyes still on the splashing pool. In her peripheral vision, Machi is scolding the two men of their rowdy play fights. "There is nowhere else I could be, but here."

"Did Danchou tell you that?" Omokage laughs, his voice more like a wheeze. "How many times did he repeat those same words, how long did it take to convince you?" His black eyes find her golden ones, and for a moment there, he gives her an almost apologetic smile. "You don't know what you are getting yourself into, poppet. The Devil lures his prey with sweet words and promises, letting them indulge in gifts and false affections. The Devil works skillfully, and the prey would never know what entangles them until the very last moment."

Omokage smiles shrewdly, feeling a subtle burst of aura from inside the bar. Even at this distance, he is impressed that Danchou still has his attention on the Kurta. "He will break you," he tells Valtiel. "Maybe not today, not tomorrow−but he will. I can promise you that."

Then he slips away from Valtiel. His grey priest's robes flutter in the cold evening breeze. His long grey hair picks up, looking more like a banner in the wind. When he leaves, Chrollo takes his spot.

"What did he want?" he asks, handing her a platter of chocolate cake.

"Nothing." She accepts the proffered food, humming at the sweet taste. "Says something about Devils."

"Devils?" He almost looks worried. Almost.

"It should mean nothing," she says through a mouthful of the sponge cake, oblivious to his sudden silence. She feels his hand on the small of her back, warming her through her kimono. She tears his attention from her food and Danchou to the shouts of people below the, counting down from ten.

"Looks like it's time," Chrollo muses.

"Time?" She blinks at him. "Time for what?"

Around them, the Spiders gather. Everyone looks expectantly at the midnight skies, empty but for a few silver stars burning bright. Valtiel feels Chrollo's arm snake around her waist, his chest pressed on her back. She follows where their attention is: to the skies.

Four… Three… Two… One…

Dozens of bright fireworks explode on the midnight canvas. They explode in varying colors of yellow, green, red, and blue. Some take the serpentine shapes; others in round and comets and willows. The scent of explosives hangs in the air, though no one seems to mind as everyone jumps and cheers and clinks their glasses to each other and to their leader. Chrollo accepts a glass from Yuan and toasts with his friends, even participating in a drinking game with them.

"Here's to the Phantom Troupe," Chrollo says.

"Hear, hear!" Shalnark cheers.

"More treasures to steal and more kills to count," Feitan adds.

Pakunoda sidesteps the raucous cheering for their leader and hands Valtiel a hot chocolate drink. "Danchou says you're fond of chocolate," she whispers, as the shouts and cheers drown out her voice. Behind her, Uvogin finishes his drink and tosses the glass over the railings. "And that you're not allowed to drink anything alcoholic, so I made you this. I hope you like it."

Valtiel takes a sip and almost melts. She sighs. "I love it. Thank you, Paku-san."

Chrollo finishes his glass, but then Shalnark offers a yard of ale. Politely, he shakes his head. The offer then goes to Phinks, who rolls up his tracksuit sleeves and sets to drink himself to stupor.

"That was a scary sight," Valtiel comments when Chrollo returns to her side. His pale cheeks are flushed from both the alcohol and the excitement. She has never seen him this animated before. "You look like trash," she chides, ruffling his raven bangs. "You should shower."

"Are you ordering the leader of the Phantom Troupe around?" he muses, one perfect eyebrow raised.

"I would if he looks like garbage."

"Tonight is a special occasion. Which reminds me, Val…" He puts her chocolate drink down on the railing and wraps his arms around her, her own arms trapped between them in the embrace. His warm breath is on her ear, lips ghosting over the lobe. "Happy New Year, dearest."

She sighs in defeat and lays her cheek upon his chest, listening to his heart. "Happy New Year, Danchou."

The Spiders suddenly fall silent at the display of intimacy. Nobunaga is trying his hardest not to look, but ends up faking a retch and turns to Machi. Machi, disgusted, shoves his face away from her. Omokage smirks, Uvogin and Kortopi spare awkward glances at each other. Somewhere from behind, Shalnark's phone flashes, capturing the moment.

A drunk Phinks smashes the yard glass to the floor, cups his hands to his mouth, and chants: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Feitan bonks him on the head. "Shut it, you drunken wuss."

Chrollo notices the awkward silence and smiles innocently at his friends. Valtiel remains entrapped in his arms, squirming against his firm hold on her. "Happy New Year, everyone."

The discomfort melts away. Everyone laughs instead.

"Happy New Year, Danchou!"

Author's Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Thank you all for giving me and this story a chance! Thank you for all the lovely support! I hope everyone has happy celebrations and a good start for the new year!

Chrollo and co. are also gonna have a blast tonight! Haha!