The Loneliest Leaf Falls Most Freely

(ty for reading! happy very late thanksgiving, if you all celebrate. i'm thankful for all of you :) enjoy and the little star is grateful for your presence, too!)

(EDITED)(Note to readers: Some chapters ahead may not be in line with the new edits.)

H2O2

Hydrogen peroxide.

Antiseptic. Pale blue liquid, slightly viscous. Used as an oxidizer; a mild antiseptic used to clean wounds, relieve minor irritation, remove mucus, and prevent serious infection. Avoid eye contact; can cause permanent damage to the eyes.

____________________________

November, if you'd believe me, passed like a river drying from a drought: too quickly for comfort, but too slow to miss it.

Kane and I had barely escaped the consequences of The Eclipse for the night, hiding away to the bathroom to clean our wounds and bind our cuts. I put an ice pack to my ribs while Kane bound his knuckles and pasted lidocaine over his shoulder. A matching set of bruises was shared between our throats. When he looked at me, it was with an infinite sadness, a frustration that cut me to my organs, an anger that was as deserved as it was gut-wrenching. Maybe he saw Luan, in some way or another. When you're scared of beasts, all you see are beasts. I couldn't blame him for finding mine.

"Your jacket," I said.

"Keep it," he replied. "And trash those clothes."

I did.

But there were enough eyewitnesses to go around at Aster's party, and the news struck Corvus the very next day, with none other than a team meeting to show for it.

Coach threw her phone down on the coffee table. She stabbed her finger at the headline. VIOLENCE IN PARADISE, KNIVES AND KNUCKLES: KANE KING AND LUAN ZHANG BRAWL IT OUT AT THE ECLIPSE. With over fifty thousand views.

"A knife," she roared. "A knife. Are you out of your mind? Are you truly out of your goddamn mind? "

We ought to bring a knife on that damn track.

Kane sat with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging. He didn't speak. Corvus stared dumbfounded between him and the phone.

Zahir raked fingers through his hair. "Jesus Christ, King," he muttered. "You pulled a knife on him?"

"Good riddance," Diego said. "If he hadn't, someone would've."

"I don't give two shits who else would've," Coach snapped. "I give a shit that you did. Are you an idiot? Are you really an idiot?"

"Coach," Meredith tried.

"He could have you charged for aggravated assault." Coach pinched the bridge of her nose, her fingers shaking. "You could be suspended from school. You could be expelled from Corvus."

Corvus shot to their feet.

"Expelled?" Zoe breathed. "They wouldn't. He's captain."

"He also had a drink and pulled a goddamn knife on someone," Coach snapped. "Do you have any idea what this looks like to people? Zhang doesn't have a bad mark to his name, not to the public, but you? You're barely a year out of probation, what does that look like to them?"

Kenzo turned a cool look on him. "Thought you stopped."

Kane didn't answer.

"Why did you even go?" Rosalie asked. "None of those fuckers can be trusted, not even Aster. You set yourself up every time with them, every single time, and you never say no."

"We just won't respond then," Wynter suggested. "Yun's caused all types of stir-ups and we've evaded them with minimal responses. We can do that with this one, no?"

"Don't get me started on you," Coach said, pointing a finger in my direction. "If I'm furious at him, I'm livid with you."

"Fair," I murmured. "I tried to help."

"You stole his fucking car, man," Wynter said. "You broke into a party and then broke out a fight. How're you always the number one proponent of the fuck-ass shitstorms of the year?"

"I've got one of those faces," I said dryly.

"If I could, I'd take you both off of the next two matches," Coach snapped, which yanked our attentions to her, which seemed to only make her more angry.

"Coach," Kane said.

"So you'll speak to that," Rosalie said, eyes blazing.

"Since I can't," Coach continued, glaring at both of us, "Then you're both barred. You leave this campus for any reason without notifying me or one of your teammates first, I'll bench you both for the entire first month of matches come next season."

"You can't do that," Kane pressed.

She stared. "I put you as his tracker to keep him out of trouble, not to tether both your troubles together. You're an adult, and you're not stupid, King. You're the captain here. Act like it."

"Things got out of hand," he said. "And that is my fault, but you can't bench me—"

"Forget about the fucking race for one second," Coach snarled, and the room went quiet. Kane pursed his lips. Edwards rubbed her eyes. She pressed her hands together at him, as if speaking to a child. "This is your life, Kane. This is not about the race. This is not about Red Diamond, or Zhang, or the press, or the board, or us. This is about you. You cannot keep treating your life as if it's a secondary thought, because you get yourself into shit like this when you have no preparations to reap the consequences. If you're expelled, you will never race again. If something goes wrong, you will never race again." The words alone were enough to knock me off my feet. "You're a champion. So what? Stop worrying about being a champion, kid, because congrats, you are one." Coach grabbed her phone. "What kind of champion are you gonna be?"

With that, she turned around, and walked out of the unit.

Corvus was left in her wake, looking about each other in some hopes of seeing what to do next. Guilt was a steel knife in my stomach, lodged awkwardly and severely through my appendix and spleen. Kane's face was unreadable, all steel and chain as his eyes stared into the floor.

Zahir took a deep, tired breath. "Why?" he said, his voice distressed. "Why...why do you go back to this guy, King? Why do you keep trusting him not to hurt you? It's all he's ever done."

"It's complicated," Kane said.

"Bullshit," Rosalie said. "How's it complicated? How? Enlighten me."

"It's complicated, okay? I can't just walk away," he said, louder. "You don't know, Rosie."

"I don't know?" she repeated, sounding incredulous. "I don't know how he's the one that had you fight, how he's the one that put you into street races, how he's the one who broke the window, the fucking door, your nose, how he's the one that—"

"Stop." Kane put a hand up, his face a mess of pain and fury and something far more humiliated. "Just...stop. Stop."

"Rosalie." Meredith stood, placing herself in front of Rosalie. "That's enough."

But Rosalie was too angry, too hurt, to stop now, her eyes red, the irises a blazing jacaranda, her words full of spitfire venom and black ice. She pointed at Kane, tears gathering on her lashes. "That man has done nothing, nothing, for you to owe him any of what you've given him. Look at yourself. How is he worth any of that? How are we? What about us?" She gestured around. "Admit it, we all have. If it wasn't for Luan, you would've never gotten into that fight, you would've never had silver poisoning, you wouldn't be choosing to die over staying here with us, you'd fucking live to graduate, Poppy would've lived to fucking graduate—"

"Poppy is dead." Kane got to his feet, facing Rosalie. His violet eyes, rimmed with breaking glass that lodged in his throat, dripping with mourning red. "Poppy is dead, okay? Poppy is gone. She's fucking gone. You're right, that is my fault, that is my responsibility, but it's done and it's over and I can't change what's happened for what it is now. And I'm sorry."

Kane shook his head. "Coach is right, what happened with Luan was my mess. It'll be mine to fix. But I've made my choice on what happens to me and no, it's not fair to you or anyone else, but it's decided and whether you believe me or not, there's not much of another option for me." He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, about Poppy. I'm never not sorry. That may mean nothing to you, and you all might never forgive me for it, but I'm sorry," he said, softer.

Rosalie wiped her eyes. "I'm not asking you to be sorry," she said. "I'm asking you to live."

"It's not that simple."

Meredith grasped his hand. "Let us help you," she pleaded. "Let us at least try. You shoved us all to the side once and it nearly got you killed, it's killing you now." She tightened her grip, avoiding his bandages. "Poppy is gone. We didn't get a chance. There's a chance now."

There was a bottomless pain in Kane's face, a hurricane that fought for its life in his eyes. Like he wanted to speak, to scream. Like he couldn't.

He took his hand. "Your chance will be in Red."

"Why don't you care?" Diego said. "How can you just walk away from all this?"

"I care. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't."

"Bullshit. You'd stay. Coach is right, fuck the race. Choose us."

Kane looked heartbroken just by the sound of it. "It's done."

"It's not," Zahir protested. "You were under Luan's thumb, your family's thumb, you left Korea just to come here, for what? Why come here only to re-attach a leash? You're Corvus. Fight for it."

"King," Zoe pressed. "There's still time."

"No, there isn't," he snapped.

"Yes, there is," Rosalie tried. "Why can't you just listen to us? You act like this is a perfectly normal decision to make, but this is your life, Kane. Why don't you even fucking care that you're dying?"

Kane whirled on her. I saw silver tears fall from his eyes, dense as metal. "You think I'm not scared?" he cried. "You think I'm not scared of what's gonna happen to me, to all of you? With or without the 607, I am no one. And I don't mean I'll feel like no one, I will be no one." He pressed his knuckles into his sternum, as if to push out the words lodged like razor blades in his diaphragm. "This is my life. Racing, Corvus, you are my life. I can't stay with it, and I'm sorry, but the most I can do is make sure you all can." A tear stained his bandages. "I've made my choice."

He turned around. He headed for his room. No one stopped him from shutting the door in his wake.

Rosalie sat down, burying her face in her hands. Corvus glanced about each other, a crisis brewing in their clouding eyes. Meredith remained standing, watching Kane's door with a forlorn look, her hand aloft where it had held his wrist.

I got to my feet. I headed for my room.

"A ghost."

I stopped in my tracks. I turned around.

"What?" I said.

Meredith looked at me. "That's what he means. Right?" she murmured. "That's what he'll be. A ghost."

Corvus sent each other confused glances. Kenzo raised a brow. I blinked.

"I...wouldn't know," I replied, the breath absent in my lungs.

Meredith stared at me for a long, long while. We ignored the questions, the inquiries, the chatter that arose and the heavy silence that followed. Meredith stared at me as if waiting patiently for me to give her something.

Meredith pursed her lips. She said, "I guess you wouldn't."

I backed away. Kenzo didn't look at me. I didn't want any of Corvus to look at me, frankly. The world was fragile, dense in its center, held up only by the delicate, glassy fingers of fracturing lies and secrets. Like a shadow hidden under a sheet. What happened when you went chasing after something that never existed in the first place?

I went to my room and didn't come out for the rest of the day.

__________________

The third Red Diamond match was its own disaster. We won, of course. But that's not really the point anymore, I suppose.

The University of Florida Gators were, unsuspectingly, quite well-ranked in comparison to their neighboring teams, but stood more as the underdogs of this year's Red Diamond considering they didn't even place in the top thirty of NCAA Division I. People attributed it to their new captain, who had mysteriously transferred from UCSD's Tritons for no apparent reason. Whatever it was, it had pushed the Gators forward exponentially throughout the season, putting them forward in their first Red Diamond match in nearly three decades.

Corvus, even in the rough patches of the year, hadn't ever been able to stay quiet for very long, considering their rowdy tendencies. So when we made it from the Talon to the plane to Gainesville, Florida, all with barely double digit words spoken to each other throughout the trip, you could say it was possibly concerning.

"This is possibly concerning," I murmured under my breath, standing on the canopy overlooking the bikes down below.

The Gators had nine racers on the track for the day, meaning, of course, I was the chosen last-resort sub to sit on the sidelines. Although I couldn't argue, as being benched was probably the tamest punishment I'd receive.

"As long as they race on as usual," Coach muttered, slumping on the railing, "we'll be fine. They're semi-professionals. They know what's expected."

"Semi," I reminded. I sighed. "About what happened."

She held up a hand. "Let's keep it off the track, Yun. When you're here, the only thing I want you to worry about are those birdbrained bastards down there—" She gestured at Corvus. "—and the numbers." She pointed at the scoreboard. "Got it?"

I pursed my lips. "Got it."

Although the Gators were admirable foes and more admirable rookies, they weren't much of a match for experienced champions like Corvus. The match was finished well before the buzzer sounded to officially ended it, but I supposed that was better for their heads as it was. The only consequence was that with such an easy opponent, Corvus didn't really need much talking.

"Damn, King, you asleep or something?" Diego laughed. "This is more a Yellow Diamond match."

"Don't get cocky," Rosalie warned.

"What next, King?" Zoe asked.

Kane rounded the corner. "Points are fine. Ride it out. Let them go."

"Earth to King! Hey, man, we're winning here. Sound excited?" Diego tried.

Kane said, "Ride it out."

When the match ended, 80 to 190, Corvus's favor, I figured they'd come bouncing up the canopy steps with a few laughs, a few cruel jokes for the other team, at least a few smiles. But when they arrived, they were so quiet I swore they were the losing team.

"Congrats?" I tried.

Ramos held her medical bag. She smiled. "A great match. A nice break for you all, yes?"

Diego gave a half-hearted smile. "Easy-peasy."

Zahir nodded. "It was a good match." He patted Wynter's back. "Even for the rookies, yeah?"

"Hey, not rookies anymore. We're second years now," Zoe said with a faint grin.

"Yes," he said. "That's right."

Ramos turned to Kane. "How're you feeling? How's the shoulder?"

Kane sat down on the bench. He placed his helmet beside him and slumped with his elbows on his knees. His left hand shook something fierce. A bead of sweat dropped from his forehead. The air smelled like silver.

"All right," he murmured. "I'm all right."

"If you're not—"

"I'm all right," he promised. "I promise."

No one dared to question him.

When we boarded the plane back, Kane had a fresh Band-Aid on his forearm, and new shadows under his eyes. I said, "It's almost break. Maybe you can rest."

Kane faced the window, didn't shift or fidget, didn't even smile. He looked sunken, his frame thin and his skin thinner, the black scars and the silver poison the brightest thing on him. I wanted to tear it right off his body, peel back months and lost time, uncover the Kane from January again. The Kane that hated me more than he even knew me. I'd be hated again. I'd be hated again and again and again if it meant he stopped looking like that.

I said, "I can re-dye your roots when we get back."

Kane closed his eyes, taking the silver with him. In some way, I wanted them to stay like that.

"I have so much to do," he whispered.

We didn't speak for the rest of the flight.

__________________

I held the dye in my hand, the bottle already halfway gone. Kane was seated against the tub, a towel around his neck. My eyes traced a vein sliding up his throat, splitting his Adam's apple in two.

"There's not much," I lied, rubbing the dye into a silver strand. "How're you sleeping?"

Kane opened his eyes. He tilted his head back until he was staring up at me. The Valatro allowed him thin bursts of adequate energy, where he was awake again for a little while. Between midterms and practices, it was difficult to catch him during one. I figured I'd be a bit more selfish for a little longer.

His hair squelched on the towel laid across my lap. He said, "I'm all right. I sleep."

"Well?"

"I sleep," he repeated. "You?"

"I sleep."

He hummed. I ran my fingers through his front bangs once more to run the dye deep. I let my thumb linger over his hairline.

Kane said, "Thanksgiving is soon."

"Thanksgiving," I repeated.

"We're getting together at Ramos's house this weekend to celebrate," he said.

"Isn't it next week?"

He shrugged. "Everyone is going home for actual Thanksgiving week. A friendsgiving, then."

"Friendsgiving," I repeated, the word peculiar. "Are you going anywhere?"

He gestured at his door. He looked up at me. I gestured at my door. Kane's lip twitched, and it popped something in my heart. Spark. Flicker. Pop!

"We can celebrate your birthday," he said.

I hesitated. "Ah," I muttered. "Don't worry about it."

"Let's celebrate."

"It's all right."

"Let's celebrate." Kane let his hand fall against my leg, his skin warm. "You're turning twenty, right?" I nodded. "Celebration-worthy."

"Is it?" I said, my mouth quirking. I set the bottle down on the tub's rim. "It's not a very big age."

"Another year is something," he argued. "A lot happens in a year."

Corvus flashed across my vision like a shooting star. "Yes," I whispered. "A lot does."

Kane looked up at me. I leaned down, maybe on instinct, maybe on desperation. I trailed my hand from the base of his throat up around his jaw, towards his lips. Kane held my wrist delicately in his shaky fingers.

Time is up, Ghostie.

"I missed you," Kane whispered, his breath grazing my chin.

I missed him like missing my lungs. I missed Corvus like missing my limbs. Empty sections of me, cut out from my body, bone and all, handed off only to be filled to the brim with something precious that was too heavy for me to carry and too valuable to abandon. A stalemate of constant missing. I miss you. I miss you as much as my heart can bear to beat.

"Why?" I said, my whole body aching with the words. "I'm right here."

The air reeked of silver, of autumn.

Of death.

______________________

"Echo Yun." Zoe put her hands on her hips the moment the bowl of creamed corn was set on the dining room table and turned to face me with an accusatory look in her hazel eyes. "You were gonna let us forget about your twentieth birthday?"

"Twenty is really not a special age, you know," I assured.

"Any age you turn is a special age," Zahir protested from behind me. He nudged me with his boot. "Green beans coming through."

I moved aside, narrowly avoided a plate of stuffing to the face as Diego wobbled around me to set it beside the beans. "Cobayo thought we were stupid, huh? Insulting! I won't forget that." He ruffled my hair. "Hey, you added more pink."

"Yun is his own dessert plate it seems then," Rosalie said as she shut the door behind her, her arms full of a steaming, foil-covered turkey. "Come on, move out of the way, this thing had to go in a separate oven, you know. Let me set this guy down before my skin burns off. Diego, stop making fun of Yun and help Ramos with the pies. We'll do plenty of that over dinner."

"Good to know I'm loved," I drawled. I grimaced at the turkey, the smell of it filling the room fast. "I'll help her."

I headed out into the windy weather, the air full of dust and leaves, the sky angrily gray and distorted with swollen clouds sick with rain. The pavement was kissed with dew, the air frosty and merciless with icy blades. Winter was fast-coming, a wolf bounding off its hind legs, straight for its earthen prey. Teeth out. Claws drawn. Snarling, snapping, waiting to devour.

I found Ramos swaddled in a red coat and creamy scarf, her arms full of grocery bags and tableware. I hurried over to grab what I could from her hands. The smile she gave me was so radiant, it could have expelled the winter storm for a whole week.

"So helpful," she admired. She took the pies into her hands one by one. "I hear this is your first Thanksgiving feast."

"I once had four bowls of rice and spam in a row," I said. "Second feast?"

She laughed. "A traditional Thanksgiving feast, then."

I quirked a grin. "Ah, then, something like that."

"Well. Lucky for you, I'm a Thanksgiving feast pro by now," she said. She stretched her arm high up to close the trunk. "My mother and I used to make it all the time and trek it through the rain to my relatives north of us. We used to have an ongoing joke about having stuffing soup because it got so wet."

I smiled. We headed for the stairs. "Do you miss your family?" I asked.

Ramos's face turned melancholy, distantly happy. "Yes. All the time. But I think it's good sometimes, you know. To leave. I don't think I would've ever been able to do all the things I've done had I stayed under their wing the whole time." She unearthed her key, and gave me a grin. "Sometimes, though I miss them a lot, I think the best thing I did was leave."

I raised a brow. "Really?"

"It forces you to learn how to be on your own," she said. "Everything is your call, your idea, your choice, your chance. It's incredibly lonely. But it can also be incredibly satisfying."

"Being alone?"

She considered that. "Being your own," she corrected.

I let that sink in.

She pushed open the door. Wynter clapped her hands together. "Bless you, Ramos. Is that pumpkin pie?"

"And apple pie," she said. "Oh, and Echo." She pointed towards the kitchen and table. "The stuffing is vegetarian. And I made you some stuffed sweet potatoes, in place of the turkey. King mentioned you like them?"

I glanced at Kane, but he simply looked away and headed for the kitchen instead. I pushed my palm into my heart. I turned to her and said, "Thank you. You didn't have to."

Ramos waved me off. "Thanksgiving feast. We ought to do it right, yeah?" She shucked off her shoes and headed inside. "Rookies set the table!"

"Not rookies," Zoe and Wynter protested.

I said, "We'll get on it."

I took out the fine forks and knives and plates from their cloths one by one, setting each placement up. I listened to the shouts across the kitchen, Ramos ordering each crow about, Kane snapping for people to stop fooling around, Diego still fooling around, Wynter and Zoe complaining about being rookies, Zahir wrangling, Rosalie poking, Meredith laughing and laughing and laughing. Even Kenzo dared to let out a joke or two.

I glanced around the room, watched each one of them, the air warm with a working heater and the kitchen's mouth-watering aromas. For a moment, for a snapshot, I tried to extend the memory into a lifetime.

My heart ached.

I set the last fork down. A ring came at the door. Zahir pulled it open, and lit up. "Miss Edwards herself. Hey, Coach, you clean up well."

"Of all the people who answered the door, I'm glad it's you, Gupta," she replied, and smiled. Her blonde hair was down, framing her face in curls, her sweater a perfect, pale purple. She waved at us, and held up two bottles of sparkling cider. "One for the adults, too."

Corvus cheered.

I laughed in the eye of it.

"What're you all cackling about?" Ramos called. "Sit down! Let's eat."

We sat in our typical order, Meredith on one of my sides, Kane on my other. Ramos set a steaming sweet potato down in front of me, sour cream and roasted veggies and bright green scallions stuffed inside.

"Thank you," I said. "Really."

She waved me off. "Just enjoy."

Kane said, "You've never had a Thanksgiving, right?"

I shook my head. Zoe hummed loudly.

"It's Echo's first Thanksgiving!" she called.

"First one ever?" Rosalie asked. At my nod, she clasped her hands together and gestured at me. "Then you've gotta do the Sap Speech."

"Sap Speech?"

"The one where you drone on about what you got lucky for this year and yada-yada or whatnot," she explained.

"The one where you remember all you're thankful for as a fortunate person in this world," Ramos corrected pointedly.

"That shenanigan," Diego agreed through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Diego! Spit that out, you don't eat until after the speech!"

"This team is a dictatorship," he muttered, letting his fork clatter onto the plate.

All eyes turned on me. I glanced at Edwards. She put a hand up. "It is a tradition that a rookie do it."

"Not a rookie," Wynter pouted.

I pursed my lips. Ramos sat down as Edwards poured us each a glass of cider. She said, "Go on, Echo. You're thankful for...?"

I drummed my fingers on my lap. They still ached from the injuries of the past week and a half. But, against the light above the table, I swore I could barely feel a thing. My first Thanksgiving. Maybe my last. But that threat was dulled in the warmth of the house, Corvus's expectant gazes, the soft brush of November over their smiles. A pocket, even if small, of something peaceful.

"The chance," I decided on. I looked up at them. At each of their faces, trying to memorize the features, commit their names to their face to their memories. "Thank you," I said. "For taking a chance on me."

Corvus beamed as bright as summer.

"Well, thanks," Zahir said, winking. "For being a damn good choice made."

"I'll cheers to that," Diego said, raising his glass.

Kane raised his glass along with them. "Me, too," he agreed. Our glasses clinked in a crisp song. "Let's eat?"

Corvus cheered for that.

Beneath the shadows of the table, his hand took mine, and held on.

We ate a feast fit for kings.

I opted for dishes.

Everyone but Ramos, Kane, and I drank the more mature cider, leaving them spouting bullshit and cackling their lungs into ashes in Ramos's living room. Ramos and Edwards had taken to the dining room table to chat over wine, leaving Kane and me to fend for ourselves. Which meant clean-up duty.

"Don't be so mature," I said to him.

Kane said, "Do the dishes. I'll clean the kitchen."

I took to the sink. Having used finer kitchenware given the occasion, it took me a bit longer to get through the pile in the sink, my sponge tentative on the white china. Kane had finished scrubbing out the pie filling from the countertops and the gravy from the stove before I'd even gotten to the pans.

"You're helpless," he murmured behind me.

"Gee, thanks," I snapped.

"Bikyeo." He shooed me away from the sink. "I'll scrub, you rinse. You're using the wrong side of the sponge as it is."

"There's a right side?"

Kane didn't bother. I shrugged and slid aside.

We washed the rest in silence, the quiet hiss of the sink water and Corvus's rowdy chatter our only filler noise. The storm outside rumbled with sliding thunder and the crackle of incoming rainfall. I watched the first drop hit the window like a crystal tear.

Kane said, "How did you like it?"

I said, "If I could hire Ramos as a personal chef too, I really would."

His laugh was a relieving sound to hear. "I can imagine."

I said, "There's only one Red Diamond left."

Kane nodded. "There is." He handed me a pot. "They said the victory this year is bigger than it's ever been."

"Really?"

His lip twitched. "You rookies will really be rolling in it." I didn't speak to that. I set the dish onto the rack. Kane handed me a set of forks. "Do you usually celebrate your birthday?"

I shook my head. "No," I confessed. "I...actually can't remember the last time I celebrated my birthday."

"Really?"

I shrugged. "No one to celebrate with."

"What about your mom?"

I hesitated. The soap ran down my wrist, gathering on my sleeve to soak through. I said, "I don't know. I can't remember."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said. "It was a long time ago."

We went through the utensils, the pans. We were down to the trays. Corvus grew quieter with waning evening, with oncoming sleep.

"Is there anything you want to do?" Kane asked. "For your birthday?"

"Sleep," I said with a nod.

"And?"

"Sleep more."

"Helpful."

"Easy gift," I quipped.

Kane's lip twitched. He handed me the final two pans. "I'll think of something."

"Don't strain yourself."

"I won't. I'm not."

"You're unreliable when it comes to yourself, man. Just to let you know."

"I won't," he repeated. He dried off his hands. He sidled behind me, his chest against my shoulder blade. "But it's your birthday."

"I've had birthdays before, you know."

"It's different."

"How so?"

He shrugged. "You're not alone this time."

If a heart had a fist, I swore my chest would hold a gaping hole.

I turned back to the dishes. "You really know," I murmured, setting the last pan down on the rack, "how to give a guy a heart attack."

Kane's hand brushed my bangs back. "Call us even."

Corvus, Ramos, and Coach be damned, I turned around and grasped his collar with my damp fingers. I tugged him into a kiss. I wished it was sweeter. But it tasted strangely desperate.

He blinked. He said, "Someone'll see."

I sighed. "Let them."

He was a sunstorm, stuck in the midst of a winter freeze.

___________________

When you were two people headed for Death with open arms, one route a secret, the other an abomination, it was difficult to pretend on either end that something wasn't ending.

Corvus had left the morning after "Friendsgiving", most heading all about California, Zoe headed for England and Kenzo headed for New York. Ramos and Coach were both staying nearby for meetings and extra hours. It meant Corvus's goodbyes had no need to be very unyielding. That being said, given the circumstances, they were more so than ever.

Meredith hugged Kane as tight as her arms would manage. "Call if you need anything at all, okay?" she whispered. "We'll be right here in seconds."

"I know," he assured.

"We're serious," Zahir pressed. "If something happens..."

"If anyone shows up," Rosalie added.

"If anyone calls you first," Diego added.

Kane held up both hands. "I'll call." He gestured towards the door. "Don't worry. A storm's supposed to hit badly for the next week or two, so we—"

They whirled on us. "Don't leave," they cried.

"—couldn't leave even if we wanted to," Kane finished, giving them a look. "Not that we do."

"Heating," I pointed out. "Who's leaving that?"

"You did," Rosalie said.

"I'll miss you the least."

She rolled her eyes. Then, pulled me into a particularly fierce hug. "We're here, you know," she said. "We're just a call away. Don't get all big and strong on us, Yun. Just call, okay?"

I pursed my lips. I squeezed her back. "Okay."

With that, they waved us goodbye, and the Talon went quiet all over again. Kane turned on his heel and headed for his room. I said, "You want lunch?"

He paused. "Not hungry."

"You haven't eaten."

"Not hungry." He opened his door. "I can make something for you though."

I sighed. I said, "I'll see you for dinner."

He shut the door.

I stood alone in the kitchen, and swayed to the rainfall outside.

Dinner was in shambles.

"You're sick," I said.

Kane said, "I'm all right."

"You know what I mean."

"No." Kane pushed me back until my spine was crushed into the metal fridge. The air was warm with the running heater, but it was downright scorching with Kane's bare body pressed against me. "I really don't."

I clung tight to the edge of the counter, my knuckles going white when his mouth found my throat. His fingers sank into my thighs and I thought he'd draw blood with how tight he held me up, my hips burning with the effort it took to push down against him. I breathed, "If Corvus knew what you were doing..."

"Good thing they don't," he replied.

"No captain decorum?" I asked, and gasped when his hips snapped against my thighs. A fire raced up my spine, curved claws into my stomach.

"With you?" he muttered. He pushed his body flush to mine, my whole body shaking with the effort it took to cling onto him, to not crumble under the pressurized sensation of him in my stomach. "No chance."

"Is that a compliment?" I groaned.

"You're never not talking," he muttered, and bit at the skin of my jaw. "Hold on."

I held on.

I waited for it to wane. Maybe given the hours, the days. The timing of it all. But if anything, the clawing feeling in the back of my head only got worse, like a monster in the closet frantically trying to escape.

"Did something happen?" Kane asked between kisses, my knee situated at his hip, his thigh closing in between my legs. His hands rested on my shoulders though, not daring to move. "Are you angry?"

"What?" I muttered. I turned us until I was sitting in his lap, his head against the pillow below me. "I'm not angry."

"You seem angry."

"I'm not." I kissed him harder. I rolled my hips into his, felt the heat of him under me. The rain was only getting worse. "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

He didn't stop me from reaching into his drawer, from tearing off my shirt, his shirt, the last layers of our pants, right down to my socks. He didn't stop me, but his immovable hands said he wanted to. In a way, that felt worse. "Are you okay?"

No, I wanted to yell. How can I be? You're dying. You're dying and all I can do is sit and watch. Do you know what's worse than dying? Waiting.

I sunk down. My body burned like a star giving out, and I didn't know if it was from Kane or from me, from time or from body. I chased something, anything, to put it out.

Kane mouthed at the space below my throat, his hands finally moving to trace fingertips over my shoulders, down my spine, across my chest. They tip-toed up until they grasped my hair. I felt the push and pull of him against me, in me, down to my bones. But the clawing ache remained.

I pushed myself up. I spotted the photo of him and Luan pasted above the headboard. The clawing worsened. The star burst into a furious supernova, and my muscles burned with it.

"Echo," he breathed. He said it like eko. "Are you okay?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears gathered over my lashes, across my eyelids, the knot in my gut too tight and the ache in my chest too ferocious. I leaned in until I loomed over him. My hands clutched the headboard, and I pushed my palm into the photo until it fell down, down, down to the black hole beneath Kane's bed.

"Yes," I gasped. "I'm okay."

Kane grabbed my arms. He flipped us over in one motion. My back hit the sheets with a thud, his hands planting my forearms into the pillows, his body pressing my legs up against my chest until they ached. He was close enough to be real. Foolishly, I hoped he really was. For just a little longer.

"Don't lie," he murmured.

"Bad habits," I replied. "My bad."

Kane just stared. Then, pulled me into a bone-crushing kiss, my mouth open, his tongue against mine, teeth clacking, eyes violet and gold. Searching for something and coming up frustrated at not finding it.

I let the night dissolve between our mouths.

It's his life or yours.

___________________

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[Messages - 24 Missed Messages]

7:09 AM - fatherly figure

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ECHO

I WIN

7:11 AM - Cobayo Wrangler

FUK

NO IJ UST MISTPELLED ECHO

DAMMNIT

THIS PHOE

PHONE

FK OFF ZAHIR

7:55 AM - The Only Sane One

Happy birthday echo!!!!

hugs and kisses, have the best bday of ur life, we give u all the gifts in the world when we get back!!!! <333333

8:40 AM - Wyntery

how tf r u all up so fuckin early

anyway hbd echo

u survived another year

how's that???

8:55 AM - Zo

NUUU I LOST

I set my alarm and everything ))):

Happy birthday echo!!!! Luv u lots and we celebrate w big cake when we get back!

9:09 AM - Rosie

Happy bday echo

Eat good food we'll celebrate tf out it post break

9:43 AM - kenzo

hbd

10:01 AM - Cobayo Wrangler

kenzo wtf try harder u ass

pop some confetti ffs

10:03 AM - kenzo

hbd (sent with confetti)

10:04 AM - Rosie

someone kick king in the butt

he didn't even post nor text

echo grab ur tracker, tell that bitch to hurry tf up

10:05 AM - Zo

KANE KING SAY HBD RN

10:05 AM - Wyntery

r u two having bday breakfast w/o us

what r we to u

10:06 AM - fatherly figure

You got 24h king or we come and break down ur door

10:10 AM - VP 천사 (cheonsa)

Happy birthday, Echo! I hope it's full of a lot of good food and rest. I and Emeline are in town if you need anything! If you want, you and King can come over for a birthday dinner. If not, I hope you do something fun and celebratory together :) Happy twentieth! 🎊🎊🥳 (sent with balloons)

10:14 AM - President 천사 (cheonsa)

Happy birthday, Echo. Despite all the chaos and tribulations, I hope you know it's been a real privilege to be your coach and watch you grow as both a racer and a teammate through this past season. Although it's been rough, I know you're finding a good footing and you have a great path ahead of you. Take the day to rest and have fun celebrating. Let me know if you ever need anything, I'm always here.

[Alert - Event Today at 10:30 AM :

BIRTHDAY on November 24th]

_____________________

The bed was cold when I woke up.

The night had drawn my body sore, my still-healing injuries tender, and so the morning was not as pleasant as it likely should have been, although it was barely still morning if the time had anything to say. Not even an inch of the storm had let up, the rainfall hefty with an iron fist, squeezing the atmosphere dry of every last ounce of water it had to give. The patter of it, the darkness in the sky, and the blueness of the world made the whole day feel more like a figment than a reality.

I pushed myself upright and rubbed away the sleep in my eyes. I craned my neck to my side, but Kane was nowhere to be found. I sniffed the air, but no scent of breakfast or even coffee entered my nose.

Silver did.

My body jolted awake. I threw off the covers. I grabbed the nearest shirt and pair of pants from Kane's open closet and yanked them on as I headed for the bathroom.

"Kane?" I called. I pushed open the door.

Kane was bent over the tub on his knees, his shirt off his back and his hands against his stomach. The water ran hot, draining just as fast as it poured, but a black liquid stained the inside. Ebony lightning crackled across his skin, an spidery infestation of oil slick and permanent ink. I couldn't tell where it ended—if it even did.

Panic seized me by the throat. I knelt down. "Kane," I said.

He didn't answer. Something viscous and dark dripped from his lips, from out between his teeth. He pushed his palm against his sternum. A thin, strangled breath escaped him. A wet cough. He gagged, gasped. Metallic black spilled from out his throat. The air smelled of silver, of blood.

I grabbed a towel and pushed his hair back. I pushed it against his mouth. The air was soaked in metal. "Here. I'll call Ramos."

He grabbed my wrist tight. "Don't," he breathed. "Don't."

"Kane."

"Don't call," he urged. "Please."

"You need help, you need to go to the hospital." I pressed my hand against his forehead. "You've got a damn fever."

"No." He shook his head. "Don't call, Echo." He looked up at me. Twin black snakes creeped into the scleras of his eyes, poisoning the white. When he spoke, his Korean was full of urgency, a desperate plea. "Please. Please don't, just...just stay here."

If I was a better person, I would turn and run, storm and Kane be damned, call Ramos or 911 or any other plausible help that was better than me. I would take the blow to the jaw and tell him no. If I was a better person, I wouldn't be standing there with him in the first place.

I grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his neck. "All right," I murmured. "Calm down, all right? I'm not going anywhere. I promise." I pressed my fingers against his neck, felt the heat and his racing heart. "Come on, get up, wash your mouth. You need to get to bed."

Kane didn't say anything to that, but he did let me pull him to his feet and towards the sink. I left him to head for the kitchen and its respective cabinets. Nothing really helped silver and its effects, but there were still a few meds left from Ramos and they could at least dull it for the time being. I grabbed water and tossed an instant oatmeal into the microwave.

Kane was sitting on the counter when I came back, the towel around his neck was stained black and catching the droplets of water from the tips of his hair and his damp face. He looked up at my approach. New streaks of silver had already cut through the dye and hung over his gaze.

I said, "Get to bed."

He went.

I placed the tray on the nightstand and helped him pull a thin shirt on. I held the thermometer in his mouth, and cursed at the blinking 103.5 staring back.

"Lie down," I said. "Eat this and take these. Then rest. If you feel like throwing up again—" I kicked over the trash can towards him. "—do it in here."

"Echo."

"I'm not going anywhere," I repeated. "Just rest, man."

Kane blinked at nothing for a few more moments. Then, pulled the covers over himself and nodded. I sat on the foot of his bed. Kane said, "I'm sorry."

The storm crackled and shot a lightning strike our way like a cruel joke. I turned my gaze away, towards the wall of photos, where a photo strip was posted with Kane and I in the frames. Korea in our background. Summer in the paper.

I said, "Don't be."

_________________

1:06 PM - fatherly figure

yun u two good?

at least let us know ur alive

1:07 PM - Wyntery

yeah man r u okay??? not even a thank u??? hellooo

1:07 PM - Zo

Echo

King

Get here right now and act like its a happy day

1:08 PM - the only sane one

Echo???

__________________

Nia called me before anyone. Just around dinnertime. Three hours until my birthday fled.

I briefly debated my chances in not answering, and quickly realized I didn't have any. I lifted the phone to my ear, its body heavy with unread messages and stale birthday wishes.

"Hello?" I said from my place on the bedroom's floor.

"Hello? Fuck that, Yun," Nia snapped. "I saw the news."

I pursed my lips. I didn't have the energy to argue. "I figured."

"What the hell is going on over there? And with King?" she pressed. "It's a racing team, not a circus."

I paused. I glanced towards Kane's room. "Things have been kind of hectic around here."

"No shit. You're out of your mind. You know you're out of your mind, right? A knife? What are you doing at The Eclipse anyway? Do I wanna know? Do I ever wanna know?"

I slumped against the countertops. I slid down until I was sitting on the tiled floor. The storm went on, and on, and on. Something lodged in my throat, an apology maybe. To be in January again, with Nia and her flyer, with the chance just that and nothing more: a chance.

"I'm sorry, Nia," I whispered. "I'm sorry about...I'm sorry about all of it."

She went quiet on the line. "What are you talking about, Yun?"

"If I'd never gone to the tryout," I whispered, pressing my fingers into my temples. "If I'd never tried to change it all."

"Yun." The edge had dissipated from her voice. There was a sad softness in it now, something I'd never heard from her before. "What's wrong?"

I tilted my head back, squeezed my eyes shut. "It's my fault," I whispered. "All of it, everything you've seen. It's my fault, Nia." I shook my head. "I did it."

We sat in my words for a long time. I couldn't get the truth out of my head. I couldn't have saved Kane from the silver, couldn't have saved Corvus from the impact, but sitting here, a false pillar part of a crumbling pantheon, I knew I'd only made it worse. I thought I'd set myself up to leave, but I'd only fooled myself into wanting to stay. Maybe a ghost could trust them. But how far could they trust a ghost?

"Echo," Nia said carefully. "You belong on that team."

"No, Nia, I—"

"You belong on Corvus," she said. "Do you think I would have put you on that tryout, that they would have taken you in, if you didn't? That they would have let you stay this long if you didn't?" I didn't answer. Nia hummed. "You fucked up, okay? You fuck up. But you're trying, Yun. Being part of something, that takes trying. Sometimes being part of a team is harder than being alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you've never cared before," she said, almost with a laugh. "You care now. Caring can be messy, because it gives you something to fight for."

I swallowed. "You could have told me this from the beginning."

She really laughed now. "Yeah, that's on me. You've got a bit of a violent learning curve, man."

I sighed. "What do I do with that, then?"

Nia considered that. "What else?" she said. "You keep trying."

Time. Time. Time.

"Thanks, Nia," I murmured. "For everything."

"Shut up, man," she said. "To be honest, I really just called to say happy birthday."

"You remembered."

"You asshole. You thought I'd forget?"

"Not anymore."

"As I thought," she said, then added, "And, Yun, if anyone tells you that you don't belong on Corvus, do me a solid and tell them to go fuck themselves, yeah?"

"Kind of harsh, no?"

"No," she replied firmly. "This is your life. However it ends up, that's your choice. You're twenty now, you know. What're you gonna do about it?"

I thought about that for a long moment. I drew my knees to my chest. The phone rested against my cheek, cool as the rainstorms outside our windows.

"I guess, enjoy it," I said.

"Damn right you are," she replied. "Happy birthday, Echo."

I couldn't manage a smile, but I could tell her, "Thanks, Nia."

I closed my eyes, and didn't care for the night that fled from me like a ghost.

_________________

Someone said, "Echo."

I blinked once, twice. My spine ached and I pushed myself off the cabinet. I looked up.

Kane frowned down at me. He looked from my phone to me to the rest of the vacant unit. He said, "What're you doing?"

I stared. I looked from him, to my phone, to the rest of the vacant unit. The silence was stiff, unfamiliar, too loud for comfort. Its resulting ache was soft and vicious, a heart-shaped hole in the waning night.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice thick with restless sleep. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

Kane hesitated. He said, "I'm all right." He gestured at me. "Were you sleeping here?"

I sighed, planting my elbows on my knees. "Guess so. Something like that? You ever sleep and wake up thinking you imagined it?"

Kane raised a brow, like he understood that. "The medicine kicked in," he explained as he shuffled his slippered feet towards the fridge. "It's ten-thirty, you know. You didn't eat?"

I shrugged. "Not hungry."

"Get up off the floor, you'll catch a cold."

"Won't," I promised, rubbing my eyes. I glanced out at the flickering night. "No wet hair."

Kane had the courtesy to let out a small scoff at that. His black eyes devoured the blurry cityscape outside like freshly-washed mirrors. I watched him, his shape pressed into the foreground like an indelible stamp. A Kane-shaped heart in the warm body of the Talon, of Corvus. A vein in my wrist, now an artery in my throat.

"It's your birthday," he said softly. "You're twenty, right?"

I hummed. He was wearing a blue cardigan, the threads thick, its silhouette familiar. Like the one he'd given me. I said so.

"Is that the one you gave me?" I murmured.

Kane leaned against the counter. "It is," he said. "You left it in my room."

"I'm sorry."

"Should be. It's yours."

I shook my head. "Keep it."

"It's rude to give back a gift."

"Trust me," I muttered. "I think of all the shit I've done, that's the least rude by far."

Kane's brow quirked at that. He turned to the fridge. "You really didn't eat anything?"

"You didn't either. And I'm not hungry."

"You didn't check the fridge?"

"What?"

Kane opened the fridge door. He reached in, and withdrew a glass container full of some sort of soup. Then, with it, a blue cardboard box, with a cake knife and bright pink candles attached to its top. He set them both on the counter, then glanced at me, his face gentle.

I stared. "What's that?"

"What?" he asked. "Never had miyeokguk on your birthday?"

I shook my head.

"What about cake?"

Another shake. Kane blinked. He said, "You've never had a birthday cake?"

I shrugged. "Never came up."

Kane drummed his fingers on the countertop. He snapped off the soup's lid. "Better late than never then."

"You're sick. It's all right."

"Good for me to move."

"Kane."

"You gonna sit on the floor the whole time?" He waved me away. "It'll heat up fast."

He poured the contents into a pot and set it on the stove. He took out a ladle, and as he began stirring, the savory aroma wafting from the pot in clouds of warm steam and umami, he said, "It's a seaweed soup. Women usually eat it after giving birth, from the Goryeo Dynasty. I picked it up from downtown yesterday."

I said, "Why?"

Kane grabbed two bowls from the top shelf. "You eat it to honor your mother, for having you," he explained.

A pang hit my chest. I said, "Oh."

Kane watched the soup simmer. After a moment, the rainfall filling our silence, he said, "Do you miss your mom?" I looked up. "On holidays. At this time. Do you miss her?"

My mother, who had tried to keep me together as much as she helped tear me apart. My mother, who split my brother and I down the middle and cleaved a soul in two. My mother, who fought tooth and nail, gave her mind and body away, just to keep me alive. My mother, who helped hide me, whom I helped kill. My mother, who was the first to bet on me. Who was gone.

"Yes," I admitted. "I do."

Kane ladled the soup into the two bowls before grabbing spoons. He craned his head at me, then, shrugged, and sat right across from me on the cold floor. A bowl for me. A bowl for him. I thought of cigarette smoke. You are not no one. The moment from so long ago had never seemed so fleeting.

"You two didn't celebrate?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I think it was more a bad reminder than a good one," I said. "She didn't plan to have me. In a way, I think having me was what killed her."

Kane blinked. "Why?"

I considered what I could say. I lifted the soup to my face, and the heat made me shiver. "Kept her tied to my father, I guess. I think, prior to, she planned to leave. But when I was born, she felt like she had to stay to be with me."

"You're not responsible for what happened to her."

"No," I lied. "But what if, you know?"

Kane let his head rest against the cabinet. I took up a spoonful of seaweed and soup. He said, "How is it?"

I was grateful for the subject change. "Really good," I said. "If you've done nothing else for me, man, you've given me some damn good food."

"You say that like I won't again," he scoffed. My stomach churned. Kane took a spoonful into his mouth. He said, "Maybe we could try to make yakgwa one day."

My smile was sorrowful. I hoped he couldn't tell. "Yeah," I whispered. "One day."

We ate the rest in the silent shadows of that empty promise.

When we finished, the bowls in the sink, the pot growing cold, the rain getting faster and the air getting thinner, Kane sat back down in front of me with the blue box from the fridge, and a cardboard package to accompany it. I said, "Why'd you get me something?"

"Calm down," he sighed. "Technically, you're not the only one getting this. You're just getting it early."

"What? Stop spending money."

"Not that much money," he promised. He slid it towards me. "You'll see. You've only got another hour 'til your birthday ends, don't waste time. Open it. I promise you'll like it."

I cocked a brow, but I figured I couldn't get out of it even if I wanted to. So I sat up and dragged the box towards me. The clock ticked, ticked, ticked.

I pulled the flaps open, and froze.

Kane tore the knife and candles from the top of the box. "I told Coach we should give it to you three after Red at first, like a gift for winning, you know? But I figured we're already going to win Red." He gestured at the box. "Might as well look the part when we do."

The jacket was beautiful.

It was the same color scheme as Corvus's, full of black, striped with royal purple, decorated from collar to hem in team-collective sponsors' logos and brands. Blazing white read out 09 YUN in the midst of it all. A real, personal Corvus jacket. Mine for good.

I let my fingers run over the leather. "But..." I trailed off. I shook my head. "Why?"

Kane considered me. "You're Corvus," he said, matter-of-factly. "People should know so."

My thumb rested on the number. I wanted so badly. I wanted it like nothing else in the world. To be able to wear it for another season, another three. To wear it and feel no remorse for doing so. I wanted, wanted, wanted.

I let it fall back into the box. My vision blurred and burned. I didn't dare to look up at him.

"Thank you," I murmured. "Thank you. Really."

He didn't answer. He reached in the blue box.

Inside was a little white cake dotted haphazardly with multi-colored spots and streaks in some attempt to look like confetti. When he placed it on the box and turned it to me, thin black letters read out HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ECHO. I clutched at my chest, and hoped.

Kane said, "I should thank you, really."

I looked up at him, but Kane was staring at the cake, his fingers fiddling with the candles.

"In freshman year, Poppy once told me that, for everyone you meet, they'll either see mirrors or they'll see windows when they look at you. She said they'll either speak to you, or speak to themselves, and you've got to know the difference," he said. "Some people only ever see you as they think you should be. And some people see you as you are." Kane took out the candles, one by one, placing them in a perfect ring around the cake. "I've met a lot of mirrors in my life," he said. He placed the final candle in front of me. "You make me remember what it's like to have a window."

Kane took out his cigarette lighter, the cartoon crow smiling up at me as he lit the candles one by one. He read off the black icing letters to me. I thought, idly, I could live a hundred years on his voice alone.

"Happy Birthday, Echo," he read. He smiled down at me, half-dimpled and crooked. "Make a wish."

I stared at the candles. At my first birthday cake. My first birthday wish. Likely, my last one just as much.

Make a wish.

I blew the candles out in a single gust.

Kane handed me a fork. I frowned. "Not even sliced?"

"No one who's doing it right slices it," he said, waving that away. He tossed the candles into the box. "Try it."

I sank my fork into the soft cake and lifted it to my mouth. "Well, hell," I murmured. "I have been missing out."

Kane grinned. "Eat lots," he said, and reached up to swipe frosting off my lip.

I said, "Thank you."

He shook his head, "Don't—"

"No, I..." I didn't know how to say it without spilling my guts on every last secret, without ending what little time I had left right then and there. "Thank you, for everything."

Kane stared at me, as if trying to see what I meant in that desperate attempt.

I pursed my lips. "I used to race, because I felt like I had nothing else to lose. I wasn't anyone to anyone. I raced because I thought it was my only way to survive," I tried. "But, I've got something to lose now. I've never had that before. I've never had something—someone, to lose. I've never had a somebody." I met his gaze. "So, thank you," I said. "For being my somebody."

It stripped me raw, the words a scalpel to my skeleton, letting the blood flood the room like amber light. But I didn't regret. I didn't want to anymore.

After a beat, Kane's fingers found my jaw. He smelled like soap, and lavender, and metal. I kissed him to the slowing beat of my heart, until the seconds gave out into midnight. When I finally pulled away, I kissed his palm one last time, and bid Echo Yun farewell.

November bled.

And I was out of time.

(ok, this is late, for that i am v sorry :(((( but at least it's here now! a long chapter, only a few more to go until the very end :0 thank you all so much for all the support, it truly gives me life and i forever grateful. the little star waves you goodbye. is it raining where you are?)