It is a lovely night.

The moon embraces the city leaving a beautiful light hue in everything it touches. It’s quiet and peaceful–a small blessing for all the mayhem of the last days–with people chatting idly. A small tiered fountain nearby is malfunctioning and throws more water than necessary, letting it hit the marble with a loud splash. A more poetic soul would connect the water’s rage and desire to fall with the moon reflecting on it–as if it longs for the other’s embrace. A more romantic soul would see life for what it is; a constant yearning for the unreachable on the other side.

Bam was never moulded into being a romantic soul so he entertains neither. However, the sight of Khun fussing over something with Ran on his Pocket does make him think a little differently. Inside his mind lay dark corridors with layers of knowledge for doing what a God must; destroy and rebuild. Deep within him, several Powers enjoy their slumber ignoring the post-notes buried as deep as Bam goes. If one were to bring Bam’s mind to life, he would see his messy handwriting and the even messier flow of speech that makes the Soulmate List. Calling it a list might be a stretch but it’s the closest thing to describing the quotations in gel pen varying from ‘fluffy hair’ to ‘bastardly bastard’. Now, a new addition is made called ‘capable of kindness’ followed by a bunch of scribbles explaining that it might either be a brother or an air thing.

Bam isn’t a romantic soul for he sees nothing with rose-colored glasses but he ought to give credit where it’s due. Even the fact that he would rather fake-date the enemy so his brother could come with him showed a side of his that Bam never imagined. He had been nice to him as well, going as far as to suggest they went for a walk after Ran left them. He didn’t have to–Khun made sure to explain–but Khun didn’t plan on returning home for another hour to keep up with the charade. And so, because of the night’s loveliness, Bam said yes.

“Here,” Khun said as he handed him a bag of sour candy from a salesman by the fountain. Bam hadn’t even noticed when he had stopped talking to his brother and went to buy food. “A prize for your cooperation.”

“I didn’t even have to shake my paw.”

“If you don’t want them–”

“No, they’re mine. Back off.” he munched one and titled the small bag towards Khun, “You can have one as well. For your good behaviour.”

“Ah, you spoil me.”

“You treated me at the cafe.”

“And now.”

“That’s just a boyfriend’s job.” The joke slips out as he sits at the fountain’s edge. Luckily, the next piece of candy has not reached his mouth yet so he doesn’t choke once the realization hits.

“What I’m hearing is,” Khun says in a soft mischievous voice, “you owe me food. And a coffee. Maybe a mug as well.”

“Where did the mug come from?”

“I deserve a nice mug. Doesn’t FUG pay you?”

“Be independent and buy it yourself.”

“So they don’t pay you.”

“They do!”

“You have time to change careers,” he pauses, “or marry rich.”

This time, Bam is prepared and therefore doesn’t choke. Instead, he gracefully overleans back and knocks his back on a small waterfall dousing his hair and shirt. Khun, equally gracefully, burst into laughter.

“It’s very hot.” –Khun continues laughing– “It was deliberate.”

“So you don’t want me to give you another shirt?”

“You have a second one?” –Khun nodded– “Fine.”

“To save you from pneumonia,” Khun said as he unlocked his Pocket, “your dignity on the other hand–”

“You called me ‘pumpkin’ in front of your brother.”

“Bringing my sweet little brother into this?” –he threw Bam a white jacket– “Shame on you.”

Khun, Bam had noticed, made a scrunch of his nose whenever he thought something was funny. It was different from when he thought something was ridiculous–for example almost every time he had come across Bam–much more sweet, almost cute. He quickly brushes it off; he can’t let himself forget that the person in front of him is a Jahad loyalist and he, himself, is a FUG Slayer. And the main suspect in a Princess’ murder. And the one who’s supposed to dethrone the King. And a Capricorn.

“Thank you, though.” Khun’s voice interrupted his thoughts about zodiac compatibility, “You didn’t have to help me. To be honest, I didn’t even think I was going to run into you, let alone convince you to do something so stupid.”

“I didn’t think it was stupid,” he mumbled, “I mean, the whole going out with your brother thing because he’s worried. It’s your best redeeming quality.” Khun stares at him, wide eyes and all, and Bam can’t imagine what he’s thinking. “If it makes you feel better, I have already done something stupid.”

Well, he didn’t think it was stupid at the time but there was no reason to make his deed appear worse. With that kind of flawless logic, he took out the gardening books from his pocket. “Here.”

“These are,” Khun traced his fingers along the poorly glued pages. The covers were thankfully, mostly, unscathed.

“I did my best.” Bam stammered quickly, “Of course, it was my fault in the first place but,” –Khun continued looking at the books lost in thought– “I thought you left them behind on purpose. That they had some secret message in them because, well, you don’t seem like the type who would enjoy gardening. Not that there is a type! You just, well, you have very nice hands so I didn’t think you use them that much.” he paused, “Not that I think you’re lazy! I just–”

“Brilliant,” Khun breathed and raised his gaze, a loopy smile gracing his lips, “how did I not think about it?” –Bam’s heart made a little jump– “Your handicraft skills need improvement, though.”

Bam slaps his arm.

.

It’s a lovely night. All nights are lovely when he’s at his office. Humming a tune he can’t quite remember, he examines the papers in front of him. There is nothing interesting hiding in them despite what his little birds had claimed. In reality, the only truly valuable thing–the envelope sitting by his cup–was once again provided by him alone. He took a sip from his coffee letting the aroma soothe his headache. There had been a terrible infestation in his office which had left an even more terribly minty aura.

“Come in already,” he commanded in a low voice. There was no time to waste. The figure slipped in quietly and stood across him. He took another sip from his coffee and handed them the envelope. “It’s important everything goes smoothly with this. If anything goes south,” he smiled, “you know I’m not the one who’ll take the fall.”

.

It’s been five minutes. He has been holding on to the key for five minutes and still refusing to turn it. How stupid was he? He lightly hit his head on the wooden door hoping it would bring some comfort. A long sigh escaped him and the decision to open the door was finally made. And then, much faster than the unlocking of the door was, he almost died.

“Sharp.” He pointed out, his gaze following the dagger’s blade. Maschenny did not lower it.

“Late.” she snapped back, “What have you been doing out so long?”

“Didn’t Ran tell you?”

“Ran told me you had business. Not that you’d lurk outside in the middle of the night.” She lowered her weapon, “What was the business?”

“Hachuling.”

“And?”

“No leads.” he lied, “He’s doing everything he can.”

Maschenny nodded, even though she didn’t like what she’d heard. The silence stretched out. It gave Aguero the time to analyze the scene in front of him better. Maschenny, although she had almost chopped his head off, looked extremely well-put. She still wore the same clothes from early in the morning and her hair was half-braided. “Were you awake this whole time?”

She placed the dagger in her belt and then crossed her arms. “At the end of the week, there will be a celebration for the new Princess.”

“The King thought it was a good idea?”

“The King thought nothing,” she snapped, “father, however, thought it was an excellent idea.”

“Our family is behind this?”

“I believe this might be what we’ve been waiting for.” Her voice softened as she placed a hand on his shoulder, “Blood is thicker than water and pride is a death for which wise people long to die again. I know for a fact the wives of Eduan will not stand idly and celebrate the replacement of their own.”

Aguero partly agrees–he knows the superiority complex of their family. But he also knows that the foundation of everything the Khuns stood for was based on the betrayal of their own. He knows that, just as he had experienced before, the rules of their games were everchanging. On the other hand, the scene in front of him was bound to remain the same; Ran faking sleep in a bedroom down the hall and Maschenny slowly breaking down under the paranoia. The knowledge that Maria’s death could end up being pointless–or even the driving force to their fall–was something he couldn’t bear.

And so, he did what a Khun does best, he smiled at Maschenny’s delusion and let himself fall for a lie as well.

.

Time flies when something bad is about to happen. The days felt like minutes and the hours like seconds. The clock was ticking loudly from the other room as if it were hidden underneath her skin. Her fingers travelled through her hair, trying to combine each section to form a braid, but the trembling wouldn’t let her. Her hair looked dry–almost sharp–and all Kiseia could do was fight off the urge to cut it entirely.

“Do you need help?” –the brush almost fell from her hands– “I’ll take that as a yes.” Hwaryun smiled grabbing the brush from Kiseia’s hand. “You’ll end up bald before your time.”

“I have thick hair.”

The redhead chuckled as she grabbed a hair tie. With much steadier moves than Kiseia, she parted a small portion of her hair and began making a small braid to the left of her head. Despite the good job Hwaryun had done, Kiseia felt even more anxious than before. A braid wasn’t the right option and yet letting her hair loose wasn’t a choice either.

“Will Bam be decent?”

“Hatz helped him dress up. It’s better than what Jinsung would have picked.”

“No, I mean, will he make it?” Kiseia wasn’t sure she, herself, could make it and she had spent most of her life around them.

“You’re to simply observe. He’ll be fine.” She rested a hand on Kiseia’s shoulder, giving it a tiny squeeze, “As will you.”

“Is that a prediction?”

“Will it make you feel better if I say it is?”

“Will you be lying?”

“The path will be clear. As promised by your best Guide.” She’s the only Guide with whom she has worked so in reality there is no competition but it still brings her some ease. It comes as quickly as it goes. 

.

The Khuns are perhaps the Family with the biggest reputation. Of course, they’re neither the strongest nor the smartest, for it’s hard to be special among the elite of great warriors, but their well-known reputation remains. They are not the strongest but their military power rivals the Arie Family. They are not the smartest but the only one who can make a fool out of them is their own kin. Moreover, Khun Eduan is the most promiscuous being in the entire Tower, making his Family the largest one to date.

Bam knew all these–in theory, at least–but he was still surprised at the number of people he was seeing. Kiseia had told him that only a few people would attend, despite the Family Head sending an open invitation to all his descendants, high-ranking FUG members and people close to Jahad, but she must have had a different version of ‘few’ in her mind. Interestingly enough, Bam realized, that all Khuns looked alike no matter their backstory. They were all dressed in fine clothes and walked with a grace fit for royalty. Even Kiseia was showing a different side from what he was used to; proper, uptight, wearing a dark blue dress with too much sequin and generally appearing like a child whose parents dress them up to become a flowergirl. Bam, on the other hand, had been forced inside a suit that felt a little too big for him with a tie that was hanging loose around his neck–and was becoming even looser every time he walked–, and was trailing behind her, silently cursing Hansung for sending him.

For a moment, he wondered what Khun–his Khun–would think if he saw him. Would he hide a giggle at his poor attempt at walking with his shoulders straight? Would he find amusing how unfit he is for such a scenery? And what would Bam do in return? He wonders how Khun would fit in his family, whether he would still stand out, whether he would follow Kiseia’s example and shrink down to fit in. He shakes out these silly thoughts and searches for Kiseia again.

“–like this?” a woman says and reaches out to touch Kiseia’s hair. Unlike most people there, she doesn’t have blue hair but blonde ones that reached her waist while sections of it were worn as braids. With precious jewels on her earrings and a beautiful long white dress with specks of gold, she looked more imposing than any of the Khuns Bam had seen since coming here. “You were never good at this.” she continued inspecting Kiseia’s braid with a small frown, “It’s a shame. You could have such lovely hair.”

“Is this all you have to say to me?”

The woman sighed, “It depends on whether you have something to confess,” she turned towards Bam’s direction, locking eyes with him, “That boy is from FUG which means you’re as well.”

“You always said sides don’t matter.” The answer made the woman smile for the first time though it didn’t seem genuine. In fact, it reminded Bam of Khun’s grin when they had their first proper meeting. This could only mean trouble.

“What matters is whether you avenged my children’s deaths.” –Kiseia opened her eyes wide– “Seeing as you didn’t, there is nothing more to say.”

Kiseia was left standing, the mask she had been putting on ever since they had gotten there, crumbled within seconds. Bam couldn’t help but remember Rachel–his own unknown woman–who had forcefully cut all ties with him, who had thrown him in Hell for not being enough. He had never asked Kiseia how she had joined FUG, and she had never shared, but he had always assumed she was in search of power. Now, it was clear, she was looking for something bigger.

“Enjoy the rest of the night.” She smiled at Bam and walked away without sending Kiseia a second glance.

“Do you–”

“Please.” she whispered, “I’ll go and get some air. Stay vigilant and don’t talk to anyone you don’t know.”

“I don’t know anyone here but you?”

Kiseia didn’t offer him an answer and rushed outside leaving Bam alone among sharks. The music playing–a dramatic waltz–did not help his nervousness. He grabbed a drink from a waiter and gulped it in one go. In retrospect, this was a horrible idea since Bam was never able to hold his liquor. Yet between getting drunk and dealing with the social anxiety of being around the most smug bastards known to man, Bam would much rather deal with a hangover. He grabbed another glass but before he could drink it, his eyes fell on a small circle of people looking at something with awe. Bam carefully approached, despite the small voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Jinsung telling him he shouldn’t, and watched as a pair danced.

No, pair was the right word. The girl dancing looked slightly younger than Anaak and yet much more childlike in behaviour. She giggled and twirled in her dress, not bothering with the judgemental looks some people had on their faces. Luckily, not all Khuns were monsters, and most of them watched the little girl dance with delight. Including her dancing partner who was slightly bending down to reach her height and who was–

“Fuck.”

.

Maschenny had never visited her mother’s office. As a kid, her mother always used to say that her office was strictly for business and therefore no place for a child like her. It was laughable, she had later realized, how all the people who had entered that place were never as much as ‘a business’ to her mother as her. Still, today, there was no need for pretend, no need for a mother to reunite with her children and therefore, Maschenny had found herself in that office.

Her mother was standing behind her desk, peeling an apple with her knife and cutting it into pieces, looking as elegant as ever. Time had been kind. Maschenny wondered if this is what relaxation did to you. One would argue that the true mate of a disgraceful King like Eduan would be anything but relaxed, however, Maschenny had known that her mother had never been worried about her status. Her mother had never been anxious. Instead, she always walked with her head high and eyes clear. She always walked like she had a way to bring the entire Family to the ground without having to lift her finger. It was admirable as it was infuriating.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring the dog with you.” her mother noted as she handed Ran a slice of apple. Ran tensed–most likely from both the comment and the food sharing–but Maschenny was much better at hiding her true feelings. “I thought for sure that with the girl gone, you’d be rid of the other pest as well.”

“I did not come here to talk to you about him.” In fact, her mother’s distaste was the very reason why she had made Aguero stay at the celebration instead of coming with them. It wasn’t the best move–Yuri would definitely have a lot to say–but, abandoned son or not, Maschenny doubted anyone would cause him trouble. Not only had he the kind of charisma that made it difficult for one to fight with him–despite his natural tendency to being a bastard–but Maschenny had made a point of matching both his and Ran’s style to her own. Yes, as soon as the job at the office was done and Maschenny would sit near her father, at this joke of a court, both of her brothers would stand out as members of her team.

“I’m sorry, my love, it’s a bad habit.” She smiled and continued peeling the apple in front of her. There was a small bowl with five more apples inside and Maschenny hoped she wouldn’t peel them all while they were talking. “That Agnis has always been a thorn in my side, it’s hard to not expect the same from her children. But you’re right, of course. We came here to listen to what you have to say.”

“You’re being awfully obedient.”

“Missing my children has made me soft.” She gave another apple slice to Ran and then offered one still stuck on the knife to Maschenny, “Though I must admit, I have my own agenda. There is something I wish to discuss with you and I thought hearing your own troubles might make you more acceptive.”

“And there I thought you were dying.”

“Quid pro quo.”

Maschenny nodded taking a step closer. “What will we do about Maria? About the attacks?”

Her mother stared at her, lips firmed closed. She took a handkerchief from the drawer and wiped her knife clean while humming a tune. Maschenny slammed both her hands on the desk. “Answer me!”

“Ran should move back in with me.” she said, not even a little fazed by Maschenny’s outburst, “I’m hoping you’ll do the same once the storm passes.”

“Is your brain working right? Neither Ran nor I will return here. FUG, or whoever is behind this, would not dare touch us.”

“You think I worry about you dying?” she asked, “I want you here because it’s beneficial.”

“You didn’t tell me what you’re planning on doing.”

“And I won’t tell you.”

“But you said–”

“I said I would let you tell me what you want. I never intended to provide answers or do you a favour.”

“You for–”

“You forget yourself, dear.” she said in a sickly sweet voice, “You’re a Princess of Jahad. That title can open a lot of doors. But here,” she looked around, “you’re a guest in front of the queen. A child among many.”

“And you’re one of the wives.”

“Very good,” she laughed, “and precise! It’s why you still have your head. I wouldn’t dare to ruin Eduan’s celebration by acting on my accord.” She turned to Ran, “Now I think it’s time for us to go. Your father will make a very important announcement. It would be unexpectable for his daughter, one of Jahad’s adversaries, to not be by his side.”

.

“Thank you!” the little girl told him and made a small bow. Children, even if they came from their Family, could be very sweet. After all, it wasn’t very rare for some Khuns to be raised to be more sweet and affectionate even if most mothers–especially those who also belonged to the wives–liked to raise soldiers.

“It was my pleasure to have such a pretty girl for a partner.”

The girl stifled a giggle, “You’re very pretty too, sir!” Thankfully, neither Ran nor Maschenny was there, otherwise, they wouldn’t have let him live it down.

As soon as the girl walked off, someone tapped his shoulder. Aguero liked to believe that if anyone wanted to fight with him, they wouldn’t tap his shoulder, so he turned around with a practised smile. “You,” the words died in his mouth and an effortless smile formed on his face. After realizing the tension in his muscles, he changed his expression into something more serious. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” Bam said with a happy grin. Maybe this was why Aguero was smiling when being around him; the happiness was contagious.

“It’s my Family.”

“Yes.”

“So if something I’m supposed to be here.”

“You made your point.”

Aguero smirked. Then he noticed the tie around Bam’s neck. “This is awful,” he reached for it and undid it. And he thought Ran’s skills were horrible. Luckily, his mother had made him wear his fair share of ties ever since he was a child. He made a quick knot and looped the wide end of the necktie through, then tightened it around Bam’s neck. “Is it choking you?”

“No,” he hadn’t realized how close he had stepped on Bam’s space until he felt the other’s breath on his face, “if it did, would it count as you killing me?”

To be honest, Aguero had the same question tormenting his own mind. Soulmates, it seemed, had found a safety net with the immunity it provided to the fated pairs. Had it not been for the system, killing Bam would be a one-way street. Even now, while it seemed utterly impossible, it also felt like something inevitable. This is how the story always goes. This is the only story he knows.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

“I don’t know how.”

“Just follow my lead and try not to step on me.”

Bam gave him a small smile and took his hand, “I make no promises.”

Indeed, it was a good thing he had made no promises because he stepped on Aguero’s foot only a minute into their dance. FUG ought to teach its members some basic living skills. “It’s harder if you’re looking at your feet,” Aguero mumbled, “try to focus on me.”

“Focusing on you makes it worse to think.” the bastard had the audacity to admit. It made Aguero almost lose his own footing as well.

“Then try to talk.”

“About?”

“Anything that’ll stop you from looking at your feet.”

“The weather is nice.”

“Oh my God, you’re hopeless.”

“You said anything!”

“And this was the best thing you could come up with?”, he laughed as he twirled him, “I mean, it worked but I can’t believe it worked.”

“I have a simple taste!”

“Yes. I saw the tie.”

“It was a gift from my m-mum.”

“It would be rude to criticize an old woman’s taste.”

“When has that stopped you?” They both burst into fits of laughter, ignoring the eyes on them. Aguero had expected a lot of things when Maschenny had told them they would be returning home for a celebration–most of them involved attempts of murder–but having fun had never been a possibility in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that there were a number of impossible things slowly and steadily becoming true.

While he was busy being lost in his thoughts, Bam had found the chance to get a firm grip on his waist and dip him, proving that despite his inexperience, he really was a natural. He wondered if letting go of Bam’s shoulders and covering his face would manage to save his dignity. Of course, he would never get to test this hypothesis, since that infuriating man had rendered him even more useless with a simple smile.

No. It wasn’t a simple smile. Aguero had noticed a pattern in their last meeting–a horrible, terrible pattern. Sometimes, he would talk about things–others he wouldn’t even be speaking–and Bam would just stare, eyes twinkling and a smile as the artists paint.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered more to himself than to Bam, “I’m scared to know what you’re thinking.”

He knows, of course. He’s rarely wrong about what other people are thinking which is what makes the situation so much worse. Yuri’s words about soulmates echo inside his head and he feels like a fool for playing fate’s game. But more than anything, he feels disgraced. There is no reason for Bam to look at him like that, there is no reason for softness, for adoration, for–

“I think that,” he paused, “if it wasn’t like this, I could have loved you.”

He’s rarely wrong about what other people are thinking and so he spots the lie. It makes the matter at hand worse, but he manages to maintain his composure. “Making such bold threats in a place like this could get you killed.”

Bam doesn’t get to answer as they’re cut off by the sound of someone tapping a glass. Aguero turns to see Eduan in his thrown, glass in hand and a bright smile, looking down at his guests. Around him, the most important of his wives chat idly. He locks eyes with his mother but her expression betrays nothing. Eventually, he turns away–he’s not her problem anymore–and finds Maschenny, along with some other people he had seen in the Princesses’ courters once or twice, sitting on the left side. His palms begin sweating and without talking to Bam, he leaves to find Ran.

“Family and friends, it’s a great honour to have you all here today. I’m sure none of you came here for the reason you were invited.” he smiled and sipped his wine, “Soon we’ll be at war and everyone here is dying to know what we’ll do. I’m surprised the King, himself, did not grace us with his presence. But of course, he has never been a social butterfly.” another cup was filled, “And so! You’re all to share the news with everyone you know. The Khuns will not be joining the war. We’re all friends here.”

Yelling and chaos ensued from the guests. Other than the wives and Eduan’s personal guards, everyone else seemed enraged with the decision either because they belonged to a specific side or because they thought this an act of cowardice. His father must have thought the same because flashes of lightning lighted up the room and restored peace.

“I will not stop anyone from aiding FUG or the King. But if my name gets dropped in either fraction, I will send that person to the grave.”

It was Ran who spotted him, making way to reach him, nervous and tensed. Before they could talk, however, another voice shouted, “Are you mad?”, Maschenny had stood up enraged, “You do not have the luxury to not pick sides. You’re from the Great Families.”

Eduan chuckled, “Which means what?”

“Your place is by the King.” Of course, he knew Maschenny didn’t care about Jahad or what he stood for. Just like he knew that the King’s trust in her would falter further with Eduan’s decision leaving them vulnerable to anyone.

“The King replaced an elite warrior with a nobody.” he turned to the rest of the guests, “If the King thinks we’re expendable, he might as well replace us from the beginning.”

“So you’ll just let FUG take over?”

“Why not?” he laughed again and drank his wine, “Survival of the fittest is the most honourable law.”

“You–”

“Spread the news if you’d be so kind.” he turned to his right, “Continue with the music!”

.

Bam’s ears were ringing. He knew Khun Eduan was a special individual but he had never imagined something like this. Jinsung had been right; the Families would go to any length to ensure their survival. Still, Bam had felt bad at the sight of the Princess–Maria’s sister–who had been made into a fool by her own father. Making others feel bad seemed to be a trait reserved by the parents of the Khuns. With his Khun nowhere in sight, he decided to search outside for Kiseia.

Stepping outside, the first thing Bam noticed was a huge Warp Ship getting ready for take off. Once he was no longer feeling mesmerized by it, he caught sight of Kiseia walking towards it. It seemed like she was saying something. Bam made another step forward to approach her but stopped once he saw with whom she was talking.

“Aguero.”

“Kiseia.” Khun–no, Kiseia had called him Aguero–greeted her. “I figured I wouldn’t be seeing you tonight.”

“It’s you who shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s purely business. I did not come for a fight.”

“It’s always a fight.”

Bam watched as Aguero let out a bitter laugh, “Have you come for something?”

“I wonder,” Kiseia began and Bam carefully approached them to be able to listen better, “how does it feel to have everyone around you die? You didn’t care about,” her voice made a small crack, “you didn’t care about my sister but you cared about her.”

“I feel nothing.” Aguero snapped back accusingly, “It was you who said it first and now you expect me to apologize? You expect me to tell you it has ruined me? That I understand?”

“I expect you to ask for forgiveness!”

“I asked for forgiveness. Once. You said that empty apologies can not bring back what’s six feet under, remember?”

The engine of the Ship made a loud noise as Aguero yelled something Bam couldn’t hear and before he knew it, the sound of Kiseia’s hand landing on Aguero’s face echoed all around. Bam had to fight with all his willpower to keep him from revealing himself–either to demand an explanation or to stop this travesty–and make things worse. He saw Ran standing on the Ship’s platform, next to someone he couldn’t quite see, calling over his brother.

Aguero looked at Kiseia one last time, neither hurt nor mad, and left.