Flint doesn't know where he is.

    He's been walking forward for... how long? He doesn't know that, either.

He knows he's in a tunnel. The walls are built of gray brick coated in chipped paint. The floor beneath his feet is pure concrete. It's dark— he can see his shoes, his hands, a few feet in front of him, but everything else is pitch black. He's never been in this place before. He can't recall ever being in this place before. But it's familiar...

He's instantly nauseous.

"Bari...?"

He calls out into the void. His voice echoes; it bounces off the walls and back into his ears. There's no answer.

"Bari...?" His voice shudders. He realizes his body has been shuddering, too. "Bari? Are you there?" 

No answer. There's only his own voice reflecting back at him.

"Somebody...?"

Nothing. Flint wants to cry, but he doesn't— the fear is too paralyzing.

His shins cramp up. Has he been walking forward long enough for his legs to ache? He doesn't know. But he knows he doesn't want to stop. He doesn't want to stay here. The concrete floors, the bricks coated in chipped paint: he's seen it before.

He can't stop. He can't stay here.

His body doesn't give him a choice. It hunches forward as if sandbags were tied to his arms and torso. His knees buckle beneath the weight. His cheek slams against the ground, and he's staring at ants.

There were ants in the cells, sometimes. Flint would stare at them as he was held down.

His eyes begin to droop shut, and he wonders if he's going to sleep. That's alright. He sleeps often to burn away the stale, unending hours.

He hears footsteps. His eyes fly open.

    "Are you finally accepting reality?"

    That voice—

    The panic, the hyperventilation, the merciless banging of his heart against his chest— it's instantaneous. His mind screams to run, to crawl, to anything. But his legs remain limp and useless on the concrete floor.

    "You may have escaped Woodgate, but you'll never be able to escape yourself. You know that deep down, don't you?"

    The footsteps draw near. A sickly lump clogs Flint's throat as the taste of acid floods his mouth. He gags, unable to speak as he turns onto his back and throws his hands over his eyes.

    You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here.

    Though Flint can't say the words aloud, he didn't need to. The man knows what he's thinking. Flint can hear the weightless chortles.

    "You didn't really think I was gone, did you? Oh Flinty boy, Flinty boy. I know you're as dimwitted as they come, but even you should know better."

    Flint doesn't want to see him. He doesn't remove his hands from his eyes, but he knows the man's hovering over him. He can feel the sticky warmth of his breath on his neck, sending every possible sickening shiver up and down his spine like a xylophone. The acid taste still renders Flint mute— he coughs, he spits, but the words don't come out.

    But they keep running through his mind. He knows the man can hear them.

You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here. You can't be here.

I killed you.

"Yes!" The man's voice becomes high-pitched, silverly. "You killed me, my little muse. You killed me with these hands."

Flint's wrists are seized by vicious grips and pulled away from his face. First, he sees the blood on his hands. Then he can feel it. The viscous liquid clinging to his fingers and palms and face, the coppery taste as it drips into his mouth— it adheres to his soul where it could never be scrubbed clean.

Risha's smiling at him; it's that same twisted, horrifying grin that stretches from one ear to another and bares each of his teeth. Risha's smiling at him, even though there is a pocket knife jammed deep into his neck. Risha's smiling at him, even though his side is oozing warm blood that squirts onto Flint's chest like a leaking hose.

"You killed me with these hands. Do you know what that means? Do you, little thief?"

Flint still can't speak. He can't even think. The heat of the blood that drowned his face— the repulsion and deep churning of his stomach— dulled whatever thoughts his brain could conjure.

Risha releases Flint's wrists and snatches one of his hands in a firm grip. His fingers wrap around the boy's pinkie.

Flint knows what's coming. He knows this pain. He suddenly finds his voice.

"No—"

There's a loud crack. A sharp pain. Then a scream.

Risha's grip moves onto his ring finger. "Must I ask again?"

"No!" Flint shouts, alert and misty-eyed. "I-I don't know what it means! I don't!"

"Was that so hard to say?"

Risha lets go of Flint's hand. Flint, short of breath and desperately gasping for air, pushes himself up into a sitting position and crawls backward until his back hits the wall. He holds his hand to his chest, his broken finger already swelling and throbbing to the beat of his heart. The aching, the ever-present, heavy scent of blood— it's too much.

Flint wants it to stop. He needs it to stop. Why won't this stop?

Risha laughs and shakes his head, his smile as wide and joyful as ever. 

"Let me spell this all out for you, then. We're forever tied together, you and I." The man crawls forward— even on his knees, he towers over the curled up Flint. "I'm always going to be lurking within the deepest depths of your mind. We're connected. I, as your victim..."

Risha reaches forward and rubs his hand against Flint's cheek. His fingers then move to grasp his chin, holding his face in place so he can't look away, so that he must look into those bluish-black eyes that are always starved for his suffering.

"And you, as my murderer."

Flint grits his teeth, eyes wide in a horrified stare. His entire body goes stiff. "No..."

That isn't right.

Risha laughs.

"Please, why deny it? You remember. I know you try to suppress it, but you remember. You remember holding the knife. You remember stabbing once, twice, then again and again and again long after I was already dead. And you enjoyed it. Deny it all you wish, but you know the truth. You know you enjoyed it. You loved it. You laughed like a madman, Flinty boy. Because that's exactly what you are— except I can't even say you're worth calling a 'man.' A little mad brat sounds much more fitting. Yes, that is what you are."

"No..." The tears that run down Flint's face are hot. They mix with the stickiness of the blood, but they don't wash any of it away. "No! No! No! Liar! Liar! Liar! You're nothing but a liar!" Flint screams and screams, lunging forward as he releases wails from the depths of his chest. He's losing his breath, but it doesn't matter. "Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar—!"

    "Shush, shush. Stop. Just stop."

    The man wraps his arms around him, pressing the boy's cheek onto his shoulder and rubbing circles on his back.

    "This resistance of yours isn't getting you anywhere, and you know it. Things would be much easier if you just accepted what you are."

    His voice takes a low, almost soothing quality as he holds him gently.

    Flint hates this. He hated whenever Risha would do this.

    It was always confusing— having the hands that constantly hurt him over and over and over again suddenly offer him a soothing touch. However, Flint knew exactly why Risha did it: it was simply an act of control. It was just another way to toy with Flint's mind, and it always worked. Most of the time, it would send his paranoia skyrocketing, realizing that the touch could turn violent at any given moment.

    Then there were those times when Flint was broken down and beaten and drained and desperate enough to accept and ease into the gentle touch. Flint despised himself for those times, for allowing himself to sink that low.

    With all the strength he could muster, Flint shoves Risha off of him. Risha retaliates by grabbing Flint's hair and yanking it back. The boy winces as he feels Risha's hand on top of his stomach.

    "You know what you are, Flinty boy. I engraved it into your very skin. You can never run away from that. And I will haunt you every single night— every time you close your eyes— to remind you of that fact."

    Risha's hand runs up to Flint's chest, up to his neck, and finally stops just below his right eye.

    Wait—

    "...Your eyes." Risha's sing-song tone grows more playful by the word. "Your eyes, your eyes, something doesn't seem quite right. Your eyes, your eyes, yes, that doesn't sound quite right. Your eyes, your eyes, it seems I'm going to have to make things right."

    Risha reaches for the knife lodged in his neck and grips the handle. Without so much as a grimace or a whimper, he tears the blade out from his skin. More blood splashes onto Flint's face. He feels it pool near his feet.

He can't even comprehend his disgust at the red stickiness anymore.

    He can't move. He can't breathe. He can't even feel his body anymore.

Everything's fuzzy and disconnected. The only thing he could process is a memory— he knows this pain. The fear claws at his chest and his brain and whatever sense is left within his frayed mind.

    Risha places his hand over Flint's right eye, pulling at the eyelids and forcing it open. He places the cold blade right below it, letting it lay flat against Flint's skin so he could feel the knife drawing near.

"We have a long night ahead of us, so let's begin." A giggle slips past Risha's smirk. "This is going to be so much fun."

*  *  *

    "NO! NO! NO! PLEASE, NO! RISHA! DON'T! PLEASE, DON'T! NO! STOP! PLEASE!"

The boy kicks and screams, becoming more and more entangled in his bedsheets. He holds his hands protectively over his eyepatch, defending an eye that is no longer there. That hasn't been there.

    "STOP! STOP! STOP! I CAN'T—! I CAN'T—!"

He scratches at an invisible hand of an invisible man who forced his non-existent eye open. His thrashing becomes more and more violent until he tumbles down from the bed, falling on his back with his feet still up on the mattress. His eyes pop open to see a tan ceiling— though the sight does not register immediately.

What does register is the fact that he is not in that tunnel, the fact that Risha is not here. That's enough for relief to break through.

    He blinks a few times, and his mind begins to fill the gaps. He's laying on the coarse carpet of a cheap motel room. He's with Bari— he looks over to see him sprawled across the bed symmetrical to his. Bari's stomach rises and falls in sync with his soft breathing, his arms gripping his spare pillow and his legs tangled between the sheets.

Bari could sleep through anything, couldn't he?

Flint swings his legs off the mattress and aligns himself to fit in the space between the two beds. He exhales, though it does little to alleviate the tension in his back and chest. He lifts his hands and holds them over his face, staring intently at his palms.

He blinks and, for an instant, he swears he can see blood.

But then he blinks again and it proves to be his imagination.

"Mew?"

Flint lowers his hands to see, peeking down from the rim of his bed, a small, white face with the largest blue saucers for eyes. It's a wholly white face, except for a small patch of black fur over its left eye. Flint always thought it looked kind of like a bruise.

"...Lulu." Flint opens his arms and pleads. "Come here."

The kitten leaps down from the bed and onto Flint's chest. She immediately begins to knead, sinking her claws into his shirt as she purrs. His hands hover over the little body, trembling as they circle something so dear and delicate.

It really is such a little thing. It really is so vulnerable and frail. For a moment, with the increasingly unbridled shaking of his hands, Flint fears he'll accidentally smack it.

    But the kitten shoves the top of her head against the palm of Flint's hand, then rubs her cheek against it as she continues to purr. The shaking eases as the boy runs his hand down her back, letting the soft texture of her fur and the vibrations of her purring ground him.

    When he strokes beneath the kitten's cheek, and the kitten shuts its eyes as it leans into the touch, he smiles.

    "How about we go out for a walk, Lulu? I think I need some fresh air."

    Lulu continues to purr— that's enough of an answer for him. The kitten leaps off of him as he steadily pushes himself onto his feet. He glances over at Bari— still fast asleep. He probably won't wake until long after sunrise. Flint can't help but feel a bit envious; he wishes he could sleep that deeply.   

    Flint throws himself together haphazardly: he walks into the bathroom with Lulu trotting close behind him, rinses his face, and ties his hair back while staring at the drain of the sink instead of the mirror. Then, he jumps into a pair of sweatpants and pulls his hoodie (the one with the funny penguin on it) over his head. His hair might've been messed up in the process, but he still doesn't look in the mirror. 

He emerges from the bathroom and snatches his bag that's sitting on the chair beside his bed before hopping into his boots. He bends down, picks up Lulu and places her on his shoulder— Lulu loves to ride on his shoulder. She continuously butts her head against his cheek as he nearly walks straight out the door. He reaches for the handle—

Then he remembers his promise to Bari.

Flint twists right back around and darts to the notepad that rests on the nightstand positioned between the two beds. He grabs the pen beside it and manages to write his message in flimsy, rough lettering: 

"Walk. B back." 

*  *  *

    "Oh my god— Flint! I was just about to go out looking for you! Where the hell were you?!"

    "... On a walk?"

    "It's been hours!"

    "I fell asleep on a bench not far from here— why are you raising your voice at me?"

    "You scared me half to death! You can't just disappear on me like that!"

    "I— don't yell at me like I'm a child. I'm not a child—"

    "For all I knew, you could've had a bad anxiety attack somewhere, or you could've gotten into trouble with some guards and panicked! You can't just go running off without telling me!"

    "D-don't yell at me for 'running off!' You're... not my keeper, Bari. I'm not a child. I'm the older one, anyway..."

    That argument, those charged words being screamed in frustration... their resonance lingers in Flint's mind as he sits alone at the end of a wooden dock. He tries to focus on how the water on the horizon looks nearly pitch black, how he can practically taste the salt in the breeze as it brushes past him and tussles his hair. He tries to focus on Lulu, who looks so adorable curled up within the nest of his crossed legs. He tries to focus on that cute noise she makes as she nestles further into the bend of his knee, turning upwards and leaving her chest exposed...

"What does that matter?! You're unstable, Flint! Do you think I can't see the scratch marks on your face?! You're so unstable and fragile and I'm so damn scared for you!... You haven't the slightest clue!..."

    "I-I understand that I'm not... I'm not..."

    "If you understand, then act like it! Please!"

    "Stop yelling at me!"

    "Flint—    !"

    "I said stop!— Don't touch me!"

    The resonance of those past words only grows louder.

    Risha was right. He'll never be able to escape himself.

    He peeks over the edge of the dock to see the ocean reflect his silhouette back at him, the moonlight's glow shimmering behind him etching out his figure. He shuts his eye and quails from the sight.

    "... I'm never going to be normal, am I?"

    There's no answer aside from the soft trill that Lulu makes as Flint strokes her side.

    "I never asked to be like this. I never asked for any of this. I never wanted to be Bari's burden, and I'm certain he never asked to have such a burden. He shouldn't have to deal with me being such a goddamn mess, but I can't snap out of it. I want to snap out of this. I hate this! I want it to stop! But I can't make it stop."   

    Flint pokes Lulu's ear, making it twitch. He smiles, even though he can feel tears beginning to form.

    "I'm always... I don't know the word. Panicking? Nervous? Anxious? Whatever it is, I hate it so much, Lulu. I can't shake it, ever. It feels like... there's always someone waiting to grab me. Or beat me. Because it's okay to beat me— it's not like I'm human. I'm always ready for the shouting to start, for the laughing, for someone to come at me, and all of a sudden, instead of being in a motel room or the street of some city, I'm back in Woodgate with all the angry guards. With Risha. And more often than not, Bari has to watch me break down...it's not fair to him. It's not fair to him at all. I never wanted to put him through that! Any of it!"

    Flint tries to restrain his tears, but they taunt him by clinging to his lashes, preparing to drop at any moment.   

    "I'm never going to be normal. Woodgate's going to haunt me forever, isn't it? And Risha... I still hear his voice sometimes. It's not fair! I left that place behind... I'm free! So I don't understand it at all! Why is this still happening? Why do I still feel like this? Why don't I have control over my own head anymore?"

    The tears start to slip down his cheek— he knows the answer. Lulu lifts her head as Flint speaks through his hitching breath.

    "It's because I'm a prisoner, right? That's what Risha always said, always made me say. I want to deny it... but that's just what I am, and that's just how it goes. Maybe I deserve this. I'm a thief, after all. And a murderer—"

    Lulu opens her mouth and lightly bites Flint's hand. She gnaws on his fingers while peering up at him with the most innocent, most guileless of looks. Even as the tears continue to wet his face, Flint finds himself laughing.

    "You don't like it when I talk like that, do you?" He wipes his eye, sweeping away the last of his tears.  "Don't worry, you're not alone. If Bari heard me say that, he might bite me too."

    Flint wraps his hands around Lulu and lifts her to his chest. He falls back, laying on the wooden boards of the dock while listening to the ocean water sway beneath it. Lulu curls up into a ball just below his chin and closes her eyes.

    "I owe Bari so much. More than I could ever put into words." His eye slowly drifts shut. "If only... I could just stop being like this... so he wouldn't have to worry about me so much. Then maybe... I could at least begin to repay him..."

    He feels the weight of Lulu on his chest, the resonance of her purrs.

    "... Thank you, Lulu. I love you."

His consciousness escapes him.

*  *  *

    It takes Bari roughly a full minute to decipher the note. Flint's writing was never the most legible, but it's apparent that he hasn't practiced the skill properly in years. In his circumstances, Bari can't exactly blame him.

    Regardless, he's grateful. Flint has honored his promise: to leave behind a note if he went out for an extended period. That meant Bari wouldn't spend the next few hours sitting at the edge of his bed, twiddling his thumbs and watching the doorway until impatience drove him to throw on his jacket and march outside. It also meant he wouldn't start shouting at Flint when he walked through that door the second Bari went to twist the doorknob.

    Bari still regrets that whole situation. He's more than aware that he needs to be gentle with Flint— and yet he blew up at him anyway. In that moment, he only realized that he needed to take a step back and give him space when Flint threw arms over his face as if expecting Bari to strike him.

    Thus came about the note compromise. The idea of Flint being out of his sight for so long still made a merciless panic swell in Bari's mind, but he didn't want Flint to feel trapped.

    It's only been a couple of months since they left Woodgate behind them. Bari knew Flint was going to need time to heal from all he's endured, and he knew he was going to have to be patient.

Patience doesn't make matters any less painful.

The emotional scars left behind were so excruciatingly clear to see, and Flint was so obviously frustrated with them.

Flint was the one who lacked patience with his own wounds; he once told Bari that he should have "snapped out of it by now and started acting normal." Bari had to bite his lip to restrain himself from calling Flint a goddamn idiot, and tried to tell him that wasn't how trauma worked. He proceeded to go on an entire rant about how Flint needs to be more kind to himself. Then he rambled about how "normal" doesn't even exist and is a stupid word, then started to stray away from his point, then brought it right back by telling Flint that trauma doesn't make him any more abnormal than anyone else and it shouldn't be something he's ashamed of.

Bari's one hundred and ninety-nine percent certain that absolutely nothing he said had stuck. Flint's much too stubborn for things to be that easy.

Bari realizes that Flint's impatience with his own trauma is likely due to a mixture of several factors: his low self-worth spurred on by his abusers, his lifelong rhetoric to act strong and take care of others first, his desire to suppress his memories and anxieties rather than face or relive them, and the fact that he can plainly see how his trauma affects Bari. 

Flint is not stupid, and Bari is not oblivious. Bari had known Flint as someone who hated troubling others, and that still holds true to this day.

But it's hard not to give Flint the impression that he's troubled when he's trying to swallow and process the sheer agony he's watching his friend struggle through.

It's a mess. Bari doesn't know what more he can do.

But there's always a silver lining— at least the cat helped. Bari had found it wandering through the alleyways, and remembered the promise he made the day they escaped Woodgate. Flint's face lit up at the sight of her, and ever since Lulu entered their lives, he appeared to have at least a little bit more energy. 

Bari will take what he can get— that kitten is a blessing.

As Bari prepares himself for the day, pulling his T-shirt over his head while chewing on the toothbrush still jammed in his mouth, he hears the front door squeak open. He pulls the toothbrush from his jaw and tosses it into the sink before poking his head out the bathroom door. He sees Flint, as hard to read and cliff-faced as ever, step into the motel room with Lulu on his shoulder and a rolled-up paper bag in his hands.

    Flint lifts his head and instantly locks his sight on Bari. "Muffin."

"Huh—?"

    A brown blur zooms straight for Bari's face. He opens his hands and just barely catches the paper bag before it is sent tumbling to the ground.

    "What is this?" he asks.

    "Muffin," Flint repeats.

    Bari unrolls the top of the bag and, sure enough, a blueberry muffin with clumps of sugar sprinkled on top stares back at him. Bari swallows the saliva that vehemently rushes to his mouth.

"Wow, is this for me?"

"Wouldn't have thrown it at you otherwise."

    When Bari lifts his face from the bag, Flint is already sitting on the edge of his bed and yanking his boots off his feet. Lulu watches contently as she brushes her cheek against Flint's— Bari can hear the small body's purring from where he stands.

    "Thanks, man. I'm going to inhale this thing in a minute." Bari sets the paper bag on top of the nightstand before sitting across from Flint on the edge of his own bed. "But there's something I want to talk about with you first."

    Flint peers up with his emerald eye steady. There is a sense of apprehension in his gaze.

    "It's nothing bad." Bari laughs, throwing his hands up in the air. "I just have an idea that'd bring our endless wandering to an... well, end."

    "I'm listening."

    "Alright, so! Remember how I told you that Robin went off to a boarding school?"

    Flint leans forward— at the mention of Robin's name, he flinched and became fully attentive. "Yes?"

    "Well, unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the place. But I do remember it was somewhere in Votno, and there can only be so many boarding schools in Votno. And if I remember correctly, it was an all-girls school. That narrows things down further."

    "...What are you getting at?" 

    "I've been thinking! We've got information to work with, we just need to figure out what to do with it! And it finally hit me the other day: I know the perfect person for this!"

    "...You do?"

    "Yeah! Ky!"

    "...Ky?"

    "Ky!" Bari nods with a grin. "She's a friend of mine. Long story short, she's the daughter of one of Eugene's contacts. I met her while I was traveling alone with Eugene— we hit it off instantly! She has such energy! She might be a little much for you, but you'll get used to her!"

    Flint blinks, waiting for Bari to continue. He's met only with a silent, confident smile. "...Okay, I still don't understand. Why is she the perfect person for this?"

    "Oh! Yeah, I guess I should explain that." Bari scratches the back of his head with a chuckle. "She's a hacker."

    Flint blinks again. "Which means...?"

    "She's like a thief, but a cyber thief."

    Flint blinks again. With each passing second, he looks more and more clueless.

    "...Okay, so she, um, steals information from the internet and sells it."

    "You mean like through computers and stuff?" Flint asks.

    "Yeah, exactly! She's amazing at getting information via computer!" Bari beams. "And from what I understand, Votno is pretty tech-savvy, so there is no reason to believe that the schools wouldn't use computers to process and organize stuff like the names of their students! I bet it'll be a cinch for Ky to hack into their data!"

    Flint's brows knit together— Bari can practically see the smoke flooding out of his ears. "I think I get it. But wouldn't she need to like, steal the computers to get the information from them?"

    "What? No, no. She could do it through her own computer! Going out of the way to steal the actual computers would sort of defeat the purpose..."

    "...Alright. I get it now," Flint says. Bari doesn't think Flint gets it at all. "So... you think this person can help us find out where Robin is?"

    Flint's bottom line. The "how" hardly matters.

"I don't think she can help us find Robin, I know she can help us find Robin. What do you say, Flint? Ky's in Fyrai; it shouldn't take us too long to get there."

Flint opens his mouth to no doubt answer with a definite yes. But his voice fails him as something haunted darkens his features. He withdraws, tucking his knees into his chest.

"...Flint? Hey, Flint. Flint." Bari calls his name multiple times, unsure if his friend can hear him. "What's wrong? Aren't you excited? This is good news—"

"What if Robin hates me?"

The question is so sudden and unexpected that Bari can hardly wrap his head around it. Flint doesn't wait for his response— he continues to speak with his quivering breath.

"I left her. I didn't mean to, but I did." Flint turns his head away from Bari and stares blankly at the beige wall. "I miss her more than anything else in the world, and there's nothing I want more than to see her again. But what if I just make things worse by trying to walk back into her life? Do I have the right to even try? Would she even want me to stick around? I—"

Bari rises from his bed and pokes Flint's cheek before he can say another word.

    "Ack!" Flint jumps as he throws his hand over his poked cheek. "Bari! I hate when you do that and you know it!"

    "If you didn't say such stupid things, I wouldn't have to poke you!" Bari huffs and crosses his arms. "Robin loves you. And I know for a fact that she misses you as much as you miss her. She was absolutely devastated when we lost you... she'll be so ecstatic to see that her big brother is alive! Completely beside herself! How could you even think otherwise?"

    Flint wraps his arms around his knees and somehow finds a way to recoil further. His expression twists and contorts to reveal the different conflicting emotions running rampant within him: hopelessness, hopefulness, shame, sorrow, fear. They all go by so fast that Bari struggles to read them.

    "I... just don't want to hurt her," he murmurs.

    "Hurt her?"

    "Yeah. As badly as I want to see her again, as badly as I want to hug her again, I don't want to hurt her. If she's moved on... and she's content... and she's found peace, what right do I have to disrupt it? I don't want to cause her pain because I'm selfish." 

    Somehow, Bari can tell. He can tell that these words don't belong to Flint. He can tell that these words belong to someone else, someone cruel who had forced them upon Flint to further fracture his mind.

    Bari lets out a pained sigh. He should have burned that damned prison to the ground.

    "Flint." Bari tries to deepen his voice— will that make him sound stern? He hopes so. "I don't think it's selfish to reach out to someone you love. If anything, even if you fear that will hurt her in the end, I think it'd be way more selfish not to let her know that you're alive."

    Flint peeks up at Bari. All those conflicting emotions have left his expression, leaving behind only a cautious hope.

    Bari continues: "She deserves to know that you're alive and why you vanished in the first place. Besides, you shouldn't punish and isolate yourself based on a worst-case scenario. You know Robin! Do you honestly think Robin would turn you away?"

    "...N-no."

    "Then stop all that doubting crap and go to Fyrai with me!" Bari puts a friendly hand on Flint's shoulder— the boy tenses up at the touch. "And get excited! This is something you've wanted for a long time, right? You get to see your sister again!"

    Flint slowly reaches for Bari's hand. His lips twitch into a wide, bright smile. The green of his eye seems to glow along with the red of his cheeks.

    "I get to see my sister again." He chokes on his words as if he's about to burst into joyful tears. "I get to see my sister again."

    He grabs Bari's hand and holds it tight. 

*  *  *

Seven years, and Fyrai hasn't changed a bit.

    There is that same warm, fickle spring air that will abruptly turn brisk and cold overnight. There are those same massive gray birds at every corner, appearing completely benign with their large, doll-like dark eyes but fully capable and willing to poke your eyes out. There are the same big modern cities that seem so beautiful and grand until you peek around the corner and see a homeless woman hugging her children close. There is that same sickening divide you could see from a single glance— the haughty, gilded upper class who prance around in fancy garbs and the drained, slumping unfortunates who drag their feet with their faces coated in a thick layer of soot and their dull, glassy eyes focused on something worlds away.

    The more Flint tried to figure out how he felt about it, the more confusing it became. Fyrai was his and Robin's birthplace— the region where they spent their first years struggling to survive. It was also the place Flint last saw Robin and Eugene, the place Flint last felt secure and safe. It was the place where he was torn away from everything— his family, his freedom, his self— and forcefully dragged halfway across the globe to be forever bound.

    Nostalgia, longing, hope, fatigue, dread, sorrow— Flint gave up on filtering through it all. He chases those entangled emotions from his thoughts and focuses on the path ahead.

    According to Bari, Ky lived in the suburbs of Fyrai's fifth-largest city: Azen. That... hardly narrowed things down, but Bari was adamant that he would be able to find her house without the address. He repeated over and over again that he "basically remembers where it is," and that he's "a natural when it comes to this stuff, a human compass!" Flint was skeptical, but Bari dismissed his concerns and assured him he had it under control—

    That's how the pair ended up wandering through suburban neighborhood after suburban neighborhood for several hours.

    "I'm certain we're nearby!" Bari had long taken the lead, Flint following him through suburban streets like a shadow. Lulu is curled up and sound asleep in Flint's bag, sparing her the tedium. "This place is really ringing some bells!"

    "You said the same thing an hour ago," Flint mutters.

    "Yeah, but this time I mean it!"

    Bari marches forward with a showman's confidence. He peers back at Flint with a grin, though his expression sours when he sees Flint with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his lighter in his hand.

Mercifully, Bari looks forward without saying a word. For that, Flint's grateful.

The search continues, Bari leading Flint down the winding, monotonous roads as Flint inhales and puffs out smoke. Evening begins to loom over them, the clouds radiating red against an increasingly purple sky. Flint considers telling Bari they should give up for the night and find somewhere to sleep—

Bari stops in his tracks without warning. Flint nearly bumps into him from behind.

"Bari...?"

    "What I'd tell you? I told you we were nearby!"

Bari glances at Flint again, his grin even wider than the last. He points to one of the many houses— it's a small but pleasant two-story home painted sky blue and surrounded by shrubbery. A girl sits on the front steps with a laptop nestled in her lap, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed in intensive focus.

She's a heavier girl, her face round and her body plump. Long, dark hair flows from beneath her beanie and grazes her hips. Two pink strands stand out against the dark brown, cupping her face and laying atop her chest. Thick, black glasses reflect the white glow of the computer screen that casts light upon her soft features.

    "Ky!" Bari calls. "Hey! Ky!"

    The girl's head jolts up. Bari dashes toward her while Flint remains where he stands, observing from a distance as he lets his cigarette fall from his fingers and stomps out the lit end with the heel of his boot.

    "...Do my eyes deceive?" The girl puts her laptop to the side and slowly stands. "Am I really seeing the one and only Bari B. Benson?"

    "Wow, it hasn't even been sixty seconds and I already want to shove a sock in your mouth. That's gotta be some sort of record."

    "It's what I'm best at. Now come here and get squished."

    They met halfway and threw their arms around each other, leaning into the embrace with laughter. They cling to each other for a long moment, smiles brightening their faces as if they were giddy children greeting their playmates.

    "It's been much too long! You look well!" Ky pulls back from the hug and reaches for Bari's hair, brushing a strand with her finger. "Green, huh? Never took you for the type to go dyeing your hair."

    "Heh, yeah. I dyed it blond originally, but I thought green would fit me better. Now I can finally achieve my dream of being living broccoli."

    "Broccoli? Disgusting. You should have kept it blond so you could really be Bari B. Benson."

    "Nah, Bari B. Broccoli is where it's at." 

    Again, they laugh— evidently, their friendship hasn't skipped a beat. The air has become so carefree and jovial that Flint wonders if they'd all be better off if he just evaporated into nothingness. He doesn't want to end their laughter, destroy their playfulness— he's content with standing back and watching. There's peace to be found in that.

    It's a peace that's destined to crash and burn.

    Ky notices Flint, her brow shooting up as her attention locks on him. She stands on the tips of her toes, peeking at him from over Bari's shoulder— even with his view of her face partially obscured, he could feel the intensity of her stare. Her gaze ceaselessly increases in fixation, her chocolate eyes wide and fumbling between confusion and suspicion, her brow creasing and her mouth hanging half-open. 

It's like she's witnessing something unnatural right before her eyes. It's as if Flint is an ever-shifting specimen that both amazes and frightens, and Ky is the scientist trying to wrap her head around him.

    Flint understands the look, understands why her eyes are especially drawn to his face.

    He's covered in scars from head to toe, but he could hide most of them underneath his clothes. The scars on his face, however—

    He turns away and steps back, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head to shield his face.

    "Um. Bari, is that your friend over there or something? Or is that some random kid who's just staring at us all creepy-like for no reason?"

    "Huh?" Bari glances back. "Oh, shoot! I need to introduce you! Come, come!" 

Bari takes Ky's hand and tugs her forward. Perpetually all-smiles, he positions Ky to face Flint with only a foot of space between them. Should Flint be smiling, too? He doesn't know if he can smile in a way that isn't painfully forced— but is not emoting at all any better?   

    Flint's on a stage with two sets of eyes staring at him: one familiar and welcome, the other scrutinizing. There's a sense of foreboding expectation. Once upon a time, Flint probably knew how to deal with this. That Flint has disappeared into the ether.

    "Ky, this is Flint. He's a dear friend of mine." Bari pats Flint's shoulder— it takes all of Flint's willpower not to jump. "He's a little... withdrawn, so go easy on him, alright?"

    Ky's eyes continue to bore into Flint, that sense of expectation unyielding. It takes all of his willpower not to yank his hood down to hide his face.

    "I-it's nice to meet you, Ky," he says with a slight tremble.

    A grin embellishes Ky's face. "Nice to meet you too, Flint. Any friend of Bari's is a friend of mine. Here..."

    Ky steps toward Flint with open arms—

Alarm floods his system and drowns everything and anything else out. He shuts his eye; the world around him becomes nothing but a blur as he feels the pressure of something's touch. His body moves without command, without thought— next thing he knows, his arms are extended outward.

His eye opens— his surroundings and his actions don't register until he watches Ky stumble back. Her expression, at first loose in surprise, scrunches up and contorts.

"Wow— you could've just said not to hug you! You didn't need to push me!"

On instinct, Flint shrinks in on himself. 

    "...I'm... I'm sorry. But don't touch me."

    "Oh, believe me," Ky grumbles, "I got that message loud and clear."

     Bari jumps between the two with a frantic grin, his focus on Ky and his back facing Flint. "Forgive him! Forgive him...! He's just not a people person. Doesn't take surprises well, either. Please, don't take it personally."

    Bari leans toward Ky's ear and whispers something— Flint can read the words on his lips: "I'll explain later."

    He pulls away as Ky shuts her eyes in thought. She nods her head as a smile eases back onto her face.

    "...No harm, no foul. On to more important matters. What are you two bachelors doing here? Looking for bachelorettes?" Ky winks with a snicker, but her buoyancy falters. "...You're not looking for my dad, are you?"

    "...We weren't, no. Why? Did something happen?" Bari asks.

    "The feds happened. Dad rushed home one day, set fire to all our computers and whatever else he considered evidence, then ran right back out. A few hours later, as I'm trying to clean shit up, the police knock our door down looking to arrest him. They all went ahead and made even more of a mess as I was left realizing that I'm probably never going to see Dad again."

    "...Oh. Oh god, Ky. That's awful—"

    "Yeah, it sucks. But at least he saw it coming. He was able to get rid of any evidence that I was involved in the business and then get out of dodge. All in all, this is the best way things could've turned out." Ky rolls her head back with a slight groan. "Since then it's been a one-woman show. Twice the workload, no expert hacker dad to fall back on, a mortgage to pay alone... can you tell I'm fucking exhausted?"

    "...Yeah, I can hear it in your voice."

    "And I could feel it in my bones. But enough of that. So you're not here for my dad, got that. But still, what're you here for? Anything scandalous?" Her face lightens with a simper. "Do tell, Bariatric."

"Bariatric? What does that even—? Actually, whatever. How could I ask that as you stand here questioning my motives? You insult me, Ky. You insult me." Bari feigns a grimace and folds his arms. "Can I not make the treacherous trip to Fyrai just to meet with my dear friend? How could you even think that I have ulterior, fiendish motives? Do you truly think it's beyond me to—?"

"You need a favor from me, don't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Ky chuckles. "C'mon, lay it on me already."

"We need your help finding a friend of ours. We know she's at an all-girls boarding school in Votno but... we don't know the name of the place. We're hoping you can track her down and point us in her direction."

"Hm... yeah, I could probably help you with that. Compile a list of possible schools you guys could check out and such. What's her name?"

"Robin."

"Robin... what?"

Bari doesn't answer, glancing the other way as he rubs the nape of his neck. Ky raises a single eyebrow in the most exaggerated fashion possible.

"You don't actually expect me to track someone down with only their first name, do you?"

    Bari's lips press into a thin line as he looks up, down, everywhere but forward.

    "...Bari, this is some of the biggest bullshit I've heard in my entire life and I haven't had enough energy drinks today to be able to handle it. Like, my last two brain cells can't process the sheer idiocy of what I'm hearing."

"Do you need any more salt to pour into my gaping wound, Ky?"

"Yes, because fuck. How has it not occurred to you that I would need a surname?!"

"I don't know! You're good at what you do! I thought you'd be able to work around it or something!"

"Work around it?! Who do you think I am, God?!"

The two bicker back and forth— for better or worse, Flint figures they have already long forgotten he's still here. He finds himself hesitating to draw their attention, but he bites the hesitation back and raises his voice. 

    "Starid."

    Bari and Ky both flinch and turn their heads. Flint wraps himself in his cloak like a blanket.

    "... Robin Starid. She's probably enrolled under that name."

    "...Oh!" Bari snaps his fingers as realization sparks in his eyes. "Eugene's surname! That makes total sense! Good thinking, Flint!"

    "...Eugene's surname? Why—?" Ky cuts herself off mid-question with a flick of her wrist. "Actually, you know what? Explain it to me in the house. I'm getting a little sick of standing out here. Let's hit some couches."

    "Hey, no complaints from me there! My legs are killing me from walking all day!" A smirk flits across Bari's face. "Can't wait to put my feet up on your table."

    "Nope. None of that. That's the biggest of all my pet peeves," Ky says.

    "I know. That's exactly why I'm going to do it."

    "I'll throw you out the window." 

    "I'd like to see you try."

    Ky and Bari walk side by side to her front door, chuckling while butting each other's sides with their elbows. Flint follows, retreating further into his cloak as he keeps his gaze on the ground. Ky sweeps up her laptop from the front step and opens the door, gesturing for the boys to step inside.

    "After you, gents."

    The two walk into a well-kept living room. The walls are a soft, mint green and the carpet is a benign sandy color; the decor is sparse aside from the occasional vase and framed photograph; the tables and shelves are uncluttered and polished. There is a small flatscreen TV that serves as the room's centerpiece, demanding attention despite its underwhelming size. A bundle of towels coated in fur is sprawled out in one corner as a makeshift pet bed.

    All is quiet and still— until it isn't. There are deep, low barks that seem to quake the very earth, then the pounding of giant, heavy paws against the floor. A one hundred and eighty pound mass of pure dog comes bolting from the hallway, its tongue loose and flapping. Its sunken, chocolate eyes lock on Flint.

    Suddenly, a dog is lunging at him.

    Images flash through his mind. Agile, speedy dogs with pointy ears and sharp teeth that clamp down and sink into Flint's skin. The dirt ground he collapses on as he screeches. The guardsmen calling "heel" as they yank at the dog's collar and move to bind his wrists.

    Suddenly, Flint's no longer in a living room.

*  *  *

"Oh my shit, Ky. Is that a dog or a mountain?"

    "A purebred saint bernard. Big boy, big heart. Took him in a year ago. His name's Destroyer of Worlds."

    "...Destroyer... of Worlds?"

    "Or Dow for short. Dow seems to really like your friend."

    Ky's eyes crinkle in a smile. Bari wants to return it, but a sudden rush of unease renders him unsteady. He doesn't understand why— sure, he did just watch an enormous dog knock his friend to the floor, but it isn't aggressive and Flint doesn't look hurt. The creature with a brown back, white underbelly and snout, and vehemently wagging tail just innocuously licks the boy's face as if he were a sweet.

    "Alright Dow, alright. I think you gave your new friend more than enough slobber for one day." A giggle escapes Ky's throat as she hunches forward and pats her knees. "Come here boy, come here."

    The dog cranes its head back at her call. It leaps off of Flint and prances to its owner with a skip in its step. Flint remains flat on the ground, body lightly twitching as his glazed, glassy eye stares at the ceiling. Or past it.

    He isn't moving— even the rise and fall of his stomach looks stilted and stressed. Bari's realization takes much longer than it should, and it takes even longer for his body to catch up to his mind and spring into action.

    Bari rushes to Flint's side and gets on his knees. He waves his hand inches from Flint's face and— yup. No response.

    "Shit... Ky! Could you grab me something cold? Like, ice or something?"

    "Huh?" Ky looks up from smushing Dow's saggy face. "Ice? Why? What's wrong with your friend?"

    "He's dissociating. I think having something pounce on him like that scared him. Now please just go get me something cold so I could pull him out of it."

    "Why would he—?"

    "Ice first, questions later!

    "Alright! Alright!"

    Ky gave Dow's face one last good smush before disappearing into the hall. Bari can hear rustling in the other room as the dog scurries after her, likely hoping for a treat. He swears he can see the disappointment in its eyes when it, alongside Ky, reemerges in the living room completely and utterly treatless.

    Ky holds up a single ice cube.

"Think fast."

    She tosses it across the room to Bari, who raises his hand high and manages to catch it. He unfurls Flint's clenched hand, prying it open finger by finger, and places the ice cube into his palm. Flint's fingers instantly wrap around it in a death grip.

    The boy blinks once. Then twice. Then incessantly. He slowly turns his head from side to side, eye shooting from object to object until it finally rests on Bari's face.

    His voice comes out in a whimper. "Bari...? Where...? What...? What happened...?"

    "We're at Ky's house, remember?" Bari gingery slips a hand onto Flint's back. When Flint doesn't recoil or retaliate, he guides him into sitting up. "The dog jumped on you and knocked you over. Then you were out of it."

Flint's eye goes wide. "Dog...?"

Dow barks, as if to announce its presence. Flint shudders at the quaking sound, pulling his knees to his chest as his eye darts to the dog.

"Oh... I see. Please... keep it away from me," he pleads.

"Don't be like that. Dow may be a big boy, but he's a very good boy." Ky nods to her own statement as she rustles up the fur on Dow's head. "He's usually better about jumping on people. It won't happen again—"

"I don't like dogs," Flint says. There's force behind his voice. "Keep it away from me."

Bari wonders, for an instant, if he just heard Flint correctly. He recalls long ago, when they were still very young, Flint drew up an entire presentation to convince Eugene that they totally needed a bandit sidekick and that sidekick totally needed to be a golden retriever. Naturally, it didn't work, but Bari still remembers the amused grin on Eugene's face. 

Then Bari recalls the sound of barking ringing in his ears as they made their escape from Woodgate. He's certain he heard Flint correctly.

"What?! How can you not like dogs? How can anyone not like dogs?! That's physically impossible to do!" Ky's aghast. She kneels beside Dow and cups her hands beneath its chin. "Look at him! Look at his face! Could you really look at this face and say you don't like dogs? C'mon, look at his face and say—!"

"Ky." Bari's brows lower to the point where they nearly touch his eyes. "Stop."

There's no retort or wisecrack. Ky silently wraps her arm around Dow's neck in a friendly hold that keeps it in place.

"I'm going to go get fresh air."

Flint doesn't wait for an answer or confirmation; he quickly pushes himself onto his feet and heads straight for the front door. Bari immediately stands up himself and goes after him.

"Okay, but... are you sure you're fine going out on your own right now—?"

"Yes."

Flint steps out onto the front porch and throws the door shut.

Bari is left staring at a closed door.

"...Alright, I'll bite. What the hell's up with your friend? You said you'd explain later. It's later."

Bari turns back around to see Ky standing with crossed arms and her head tilted. He sighs in his acute dread. What does he tell her? Where does he start? Where does he stop? What does he include? What does he leave out? One thing is for certain: explaining everything is going to be an ass pain. 

He trudges his way over to the couch, collapses onto it, and sinks into the cushions. Ky sits beside him, and after a long, deep inhale, he begins his explanation.

He keeps his explanation simple and leaves out the gory details. He explains why he split off from Eugene, who Flint and Robin are, how he ran into Flint by chance when he and everyone else thought he was dead, how he purposely got arrested and proceeded to organize a prison break. Ky listens intently, nodding constantly though her expression slacks in awe and amazement. By the time Bari finishes, it's nothing short of a miracle that Ky's bottom jaw hasn't detached itself and fallen to the floor.

"...And here I thought I had the craziest catch-up story, but fuck that. You win. Your story's way more insane." Ky shakes her head with a slight laugh that sounds nervous in nature. "Oh my god. It explains a lot. I can see why... Flint, right? I can see why he's acting the way he is. Makes much more sense now— Zau prisons are notoriously horrific."

"They are," Bari says. "You have no idea."

"... His eye—"

"Is a story I don't want to get into."

The pair sit in silence for a long moment. Ky folds her hands and glances at Bari with beady eyes and lips curled into a frown. Bari speculates that it's a look of pity. Who that pity is aimed at, he doesn't know.

"Are you okay?" Ky asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that guy's obviously got some severe trauma going on and you're the only one there to try and help him through it. There's no way that shit can be easy or healthy for you."

"Yeah, well. It isn't easy. But Flint needs me right now."

"I don't doubt that, but you need to take care of yourself too."

"How do you know that I'm not?"

"Because I'm not dumb."

"You sure about that?"

"I'm being serious for once, Bari."

Bari groans and throws his head back, letting it rest on the edge of the couch. He closes his eyes and takes in another deep breath. There's a strange ache in his chest, and the breath only agitates it further.

"...You know what, Ky? I'll be dead honest with you. I'm exhausted. I'm frustrated."

"Which is understandable. Your position sounds exhausting and frustrating. Dealing with your friend..."

"Let me get one thing straight," Bari interjects. "When I say I'm frustrated, I'm not frustrated with Flint. At least, I try not to be. This whole thing... it's beyond his control. And he feels so awful about it, too. So, when I say I'm frustrated, I mean that I'm frustrated with myself. More than anything, I'm just frustrated with myself. I'm frustrated that I can't do anything more."

"You're doing all you can, right? From the sounds of it, you've gone beyond what most people would do. This is the part where you hand him off to a professional."

"Ky, we're wandering thieves. Know any wandering psychiatrists who take payment in jewelry and stolen wallets?"

"Point taken. But I'm just saying. Bari, this arrangement isn't good for you— either of you. He needs professional help, and you ain't no professional."

"No shit, Sherlock. I know I'm not a professional." Bari lifts his head from the couch and drops his face into his hands. "Look, Ky. This is a mess and I know it is. But my options are kind of nonexistent. The only thing I had considered a slight possibility was hospitalization, but Flint freaked out at the mention of that. He thought they'd lock him up. Pursuing that would've just made things worse."

"...Bari—"

"Let me finish. My options might be kind of nonexistent, but I'm hoping someone with connections, like, say, Eugene, would be able to figure something out. Robin and Eugene gotta still be in contact with one another. If you help us find Robin, you help us find Eugene. And if we find Eugene, maybe he could get Flint the actual help he needs."

"Wait, wait. Back up for a second," Ky says as she raises a hand. "I know you said Eugene sent you off on your own, but he didn't give you any way to contact him?"

"Oh, he did. He gave me a number. I... kind of lost it." 

"...You what?"

"Lost the number." Bari rubs the nape of his neck. "Eugene is probably going to want to kill me when we do find him."

"...Oh yeah, you're absolute toast." Against all odds, Ky snickers. "Anyway, ask and you shall receive. If you think finding this girl is the best course of action, I'll help you. But under one condition."

"I'm not cleaning your floors with a toothbrush."

"No, seriously. I need you to promise to try and take care of yourself. I know you gotta look out for your friend right now, and I know he needs you, but you have to promise me you won't neglect yourself."

    "...Oh." A smile slowly stretches across Bari's face. "...Yeah, I promise. Thank you, Ky."

*  *  *

The arrangement has been made.

    Ky is going to need time to compile a list of schools that house a "Robin Starid," so she invited the boys to stay with her in the meantime. Her father's old room might be neglected, cramped, and a bit dreary, but it had to beat wondering where you would sleep each night. She didn't need to ask twice; the boys accepted the invitation immediately.

    A week has passed since then, and their days have been peaceful. Ky has been gathering and filtering through information "borrowed" from Votno's schools while simultaneously working on the jobs bestowed upon her by clients. She may or may not be functioning solely on three hours of sleep per day and energy drinks, but her productivity is still on point. And with Bari around to poke fun at, day-to-day life has been much more energizing.

    Flint, however, still acts wary of her. And she can't say she really understands him that much, either.

She should try to fix that. He's important to Bari, after all.

    It's late afternoon, but not quite evening. Bari's out— Ky insisted that he should "earn his keep" and sent him to grab groceries. Flint, meanwhile, lounges on the living room couch with his kitten poised on his shoulder, letting her nuzzle the side of his face. He holds a notepad and a pen in hand, scribbling endless black blobs of nothingness as his eye glazes over. He's been at it for hours; when Ky walks into the living room to see him still blankly scribbling, she can't say she isn't impressed. Or amazed in the most morbid of ways.  

    "Geez, my guy, you're still just laying around doing nothing? How are you not bored out of your mind?"

    Ky leans against the armrest of the couch, peering down at the massive ink blob that's become Flint's paper. He keeps his head down, though Lulu's bright blue eyes are trained on her.

    "I mean seriously," she continues. "If I were to sit around doing nothing but wasting pen ink, I'd lose my mind."

    "It's just what I'm used to doing," Flint mutters.

    "Then you need a hobby."

    Flint lowers his head further in an effort to hide the building redness in his cheeks. "I have hobbies."

    Ky smirks as she lets her chin rest on her knuckle. "Oh? Like what?"

    "...I have a cat."

    "Owning a cat isn't a hobby."

"Okay... is feeding your cat a hobby, then?"

"...No, that's not a hobby either."

"What about petting your cat?"

"No."

"Playing with your cat?"

"No! Taking care of your pet is not a hobby! At least, I don't think it is..."

"Oh..." Flint twists his body to face away from Ky. He clenches the notepad in his hands. "How about sleeping, then? Bari says I sleep a lot."

"...Now you're grasping at straws." Ky's voice is laced with cynicism. "By the way, look over here for a second."

"What—?"

The sudden flash of Ky's digital camera sends Flint crashing to the ground with a high-pitched squeak. Ky stifles a laugh as she checks the resulting photo: she caught him mid-jump, his eye wide, arms raised, and mouth ajar. Lulu glared directly into the camera, her eyes glowing blue as if she were about to zap the lens with her laser vision.

"Hobbies are activities you do for fun, like scrapbooking. And let me tell you, I'm happy to have some people over to spice my scrapbook up. I can only take so many photos of one dog, no matter how perfect of a specimen he is." Ky clicks her camera off and slips it back into her hoodie's pocket with a satisfied 'hmph!' That photo is a definite keeper. "Anyway, my point here is that you need to find something fun to do in your spare time. Or at least something more fun than wasting perfectly good paper. What do you say? Wanna go hobby hunting?"

Flint crawls back up onto the couch wordlessly, notepad in one hand and a kitten curled up in the other. From his wrinkled nose and forehead, Ky can tell that he's agitated.

"...Or at least watch a movie or something?" she asks. "I have too much of a headache to get back to work, and I refuse to sit here watching you do absolutely nothing."

    Flint shrugs.

    "...That's close enough to a yes. I guess." Ky claps her hands together. "I know just the movie!"

*  *  *

So, as it turns out, Ky's favorite action movie about a loose cannon cop (who lives on the edge) single-handily murdering the entirety of a multi-national drug cartel and the red market wasn't a good choice for this occasion.

    In hindsight, Ky probably should have known better. But she just loved that movie. And whenever she had an excuse to watch it, she'd watch it. She showed it to Bari years back— the two raved at the excessive violence and cartoonishly exaggerated gore. She can't help but smile whenever she thinks back to that night.

    But Flint isn't anything like Bari. Within the first five minutes of the movie, his eye was squeezed shut and his hands were pressed over his ears. As the film's screaming became too loud for him to block out, he began to rock back and forth while hyperventilating.

By minute six, Ky had enough sense to shut the movie off. She hurried her way to her bin of DVDs, snatched it, then shoved it into Flint's lap while telling him to pick one.

Then, to her dismay, he picked the talking whale movie. Ky forgot she even owned it— she thinks her father found it in a bargain bin somewhere when she was, like, eight?

This must be some sort of divine punishment. She drew in a shaky breath and accepted her fate.

They sit side by side on the couch, both coddled in blankets as the movie reaches its second act. It's become dark outside, and Ky can't help but wonder about Bari. Her list wasn't that long— he should've been back by now. Seconds keep ticking by, and she's getting worried.

She's also getting desperate for the undying feeling of awkwardness to end. She keeps peeking over at Flint, his expression faintly illuminated by the glow of the television, and finds herself incapable of reading his blank features. He only stares absent-mindedly at the screen as he holds a slumbering, content Lulu against his chest.

The complete silence (aside from the utter drivel that is the talking whale movie's script) begins to gnaw at Ky's patience. She scrapes the bottom of her brain for something to say.

"...So, do you like the movie?"

"It's kind of dumb."

Ky snorts. "Super dumb."

    "But the whale's cute."

    "Does that make up for the stupidity?"

    "Yes."

    "Understandable."

    There's a flatness to Flint's voice that Ky's unable to read— Ky just can't read him at all. She sighs, looking back at the television screen while praying for Bari to return and save her from this talking whale nightmare.

    The door is kicked open. As if to specifically answer her prayers, Bari's booming voice announces his presence with the lofty air of a sports announcer.

    "I have come!"

    Ky doesn't even need to think before the words fly from her mouth. "That's what she said."

    "Oh, haha." Bari rolls his eyes as he shuts the door behind him and places two stuffed paper bags on the living room table. "Put a sock in it."

    "That's what she—"

    "Stahp!"

"But that was so kinky!"

    Ky laughs and laughs as Bari marches straight to her and punches her shoulder. Even as she lets out a soft grunt and rubs the struck area, she continues her laughing. Bari ignores it, eyes flitting to the television screen. His brow arches in a question.

    "The hell are you guys watching?"

    "Dumb cute whale movie," Flint says.

    "Super dumb movie, but Flint says the cuteness makes up for it," Ky adds.

    "Okay...?" Bari puts his hands on his hips, eyes still set on the television. "Why the dumb cute whale movie?"

    "I let Flint pick," Ky answers. "My first pick went pretty badly, so..."

    "Oh? Did you show him that crazy renegade cop movie where he takes down the drug cartel and the red market?"

    Bari chuckles to himself only to receive silence in return. He slowly looks back at the two still curled up on the couch. Flint lifts his shoulders in a half shrug as Ky stares at the corner of the room, lips shakily curved upward in the most guilty of smiles. 

    "Holy shit, I was joking. You actually showed him that crazy-ass movie?! Ky!"

    "Okay, I admit. It was kind of an L on my part—"

"You think?! When did I become the smart one?!"

    "Never?"

    "That's it, you've just lost 'calling me a dumbass' privileges!"

    "What?! No! That's my favorite pastime!"

    Ky laughs; she feels like she could continue this back and forth banter with Bari forever. But Bari doesn't laugh. He closes his eyes and massages his temples with the tips of his fingers. His teeth grind together, his forehead creases— suddenly, Ky can't read Bari either.

    "It's fine," Flint abruptly says, as if knowing exactly what Bari's thinking. "Don't be mad at her."

    "Okay, okay," Bari exhales. It's as if an entire conversation took place right in front of Ky, and yet she somehow heard absolutely none of it. "Anyway, there's something I wanna tell you guys about. So I was wandering around the area—"

    "Is that why you took so long?" Ky asks.

"Yes. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I was wandering around and I found a whole ass fair nearby! Like, with legit rides set up and everything!"

"Wait." Ky grabs the armrest and sits up. "Was it by the church?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"That fair's an annual thing. Usually, it happens later on in the year though. Surprised to hear it's already in business."

"Must be fate!" Bari beams. "We should go tomorrow!"

"Okay," Flint answers quickly with a nod. Ky thinks she notices what appears to be the slightest twinkle of excitement in Flint's eye, but it goes as fast as it came.

She falls back into the cushion with a half-hearted wave of her hand. "You guys go and have a good time. I'm way too behind with work for a rendezvous."

"Oh, come on now." Bari clicks his tongue with an exaggerated shake of his head. "You're too behind for a day at the fair but perfectly caught up enough for the dumb cute whale movie?"

"At least the dumb cute whale movie takes ninety minutes tops, excuse you." Ky huffs with an exaggerated puff of her cheeks.

"Still. How often is your good friend Bari the broccoli stick—"

"Blech!" Ky goes.

"—around for you to go to fairs with? Not that often, huh? And it isn't long until I'll be out getting milk again, so times a ticking! You could work anytime! But you could only rendezvous at a fair with broccoli this once!"

"If I go, will you stop referring to yourself as broccoli?"

"Can't promise you because I know it annoys you, but if you come I'll be inclined to consider it."

"Hm... guess I'll have to take the gamble." Ky throws her hands up into the air. "Besides, you're right. I'll just pull another all-nighter to catch up."

    "That's probably not healthy but I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life." Bari pumps a fist. "As long as you're coming!"

*  *  *

The next day, mid-afternoon, the three set off for the fair. Cheap amusement rides, food and toy stands, carnival games, and other little attractions filled the area. The scent of fried goods flooded the air. Music blasted at max volume, but the sound of chatter drowned it out to the point where you could only hear and feel the bass.

Ky's happy that she came along. The consequential all-nighter will be worth it.

    With Bari present, she was guaranteed to have a good time. However, she admittedly thought Flint would be a bit of a buzzkill. She didn't understand him, couldn't read him, didn't even know how to even talk with him. And he didn't like Dow, the most perfect and impeccable of all creatures! How was that even possible?!

    Regardless, her expectations were shattered as soon as they set foot on the fair's grounds. Sure, he wasn't exactly smiling and laughing, but there was a liveliness in the way he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and taking everything in with an awe-struck expression. That energy brightened and livened Bari, who pulled him along to experience everything and anything.

    One of the first things that happened was Ky bearing witness to Bari and Flint fighting each other with light-up bubble wands. What surprised Ky most was that Flint was the one who started it, spraying Bari in the face with bubbles as he wore that consistently flat expression. From there it was all-out war— Bari grabbed a wand without paying the vendor and retaliated with more bubbles. Ky would've jumped in if she weren't set on taking as many photos as possible; she got plenty of perfect shots to add to her scrapbook.

    Then there was the face painter. Flint was especially drawn to the idea, and Bari ended up pressuring Ky into getting her face painted alongside them. They each took their turn and let the face painter do their work— although Bari raised a brow when the painter began to paint over Flint's eyepatch. 

    "Um, are you sure that you should let 'em do that?" Bari had asked.

    Flint shrugged in response. That was the end of that conversation.

    Bari, Flint, and Ky left the face painter's tent as a lizard, tiger, and skeleton respectively. From there, they raided the food stands. Flint seemed set on trying everything sweet, Ky was happy as long as she got her hands on some fried dough, and Bari was content with simply eating everything he could get his hands on. Then, like the geniuses they are, Bari and Ky decided that was the best time to go on rides.

Flint decided to remain on the sidelines, stating "I have no interest in getting thrown around by some giant machine." Ky tried to coax Flint into joining them, but he was obdurate and Bari was getting visibly agitated.

"Lay off him, Ky!" Bari had snapped at her. Ky didn't push any further.

And Flint dodged a bullet, anyway. The Scrambler sent them both dashing to the nearest trash can to vomit.

    Now, the night sky is pitch black. The moon beams down over the fair lit up by the flashing LEDs lining the stands and the amusement rides. Ky and Bari stand side by side, Ky dawning a plastic LED headband and Bari wearing plastic LED glasses. They watch Flint play a carnival game a short distance away, the object of the game being to pop a board of balloons with darts. With each dart, Flint refrains from carelessly throwing and takes a long moment to steady his hand and straighten his aim. His face twists and contorts in concentration as he takes great care to set his target as far away from the vendor as possible.

"He seems to be having a lot of fun," Ky says. "Kinda surprised to see him like this."

    Bari peers down at her. "What do you mean?"

    "Well... he was acting so, I dunno, blah before. Like, there was no... zest to him. Jumpy, sure, but besides that, I couldn't get him at all. Is what I'm saying making sense?"

    "Sorta. You're saying he's dry."

    "Something like that. I mean, I caught him staring at a wall. For, like, an hour. He wasn't doing anything else, mind you. He was just staring at that wall, all like 'no thoughts, head empty.'"

    "Yeah, he does that sometimes. He's still adjusting, Ky. He was imprisoned and abused for seven years— it's going to take time for him to recover from that. I'd appreciate it if you'd take that a little more seriously."

    Bari's gaze suddenly feels like a glare, stropped like a knife. There's something accusatory lingering beneath his cadence.

    "You're mad at me, aren't you?" Ky asks.

    "No, just annoyed. If I were legitimately mad, I probably would've screamed at you already." Bari bobs his head with a soft sigh. "I know you mean no harm. You just... shouldn't pressure him. Or show him violent gore fests— seriously what were you thinking with that damn movie?"

    "In my defense, I didn't think he'd react that badly to it."

    "Not the best defense you got there—"

"How do you deal with it, Bari?"

"Deal with what? Flint?" Bari's eyes narrow. "You know he's not an 'it,' right?"

"The trauma!" Ky spits in a panic. "I mean the trauma! I never knew you for a patient guy, yet you're so patient with him! You said it yourself, you're exhausted and frustrated. How do you deal with all this so well?"

Bari's silent for a long moment, watching Flint draw his hand back in preparation for throwing another dart. He shuts his eyes and brushes a hand through his hair, slicking it back with an exhale.

"He's family, for one. As family, we have to have each other's backs. And secondly... well, look at him."

Bari opens his eyes without saying another word. Ky tilts her head at him.

"Look at him? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at how he is right now. How he's been acting. There's something almost child-like about it— the way he just throws himself into an experience." The corner of his mouth quirks up. "That's the light at the end of the tunnel, Ky. It's what gives me hope, shows me that those men at that prison haven't broken him beyond repair. I want to preserve it. I want him to help him through those lows so he could heal, so he could have more fun experiences like this one. Maybe that'll make up for all the suffering, someday."

"...I see." Ky glances at her feet. "You really are a real one."

"I guess you can say that. You know, talking about this kind of reminds me of something..."

Bari shuts his eyes again, delving into a memory.

"Before we escaped that prison, Flint told me he wanted to eat cake. So, after breaking out, one of the first things I did was take him to a diner. Ordered him the most chocolaty-looking thing on the menu, he took a single bite, and suddenly he was bursting into tears. Then I burst into tears, so we were both just sitting there, blubbering in the middle of a diner after one bite of cake."

He chuckles to himself, his grin and the crinkle of his eyes warm with nostalgia.

"It's kind of sad when you think about it, but it also made me so happy. The happiest I've been in a long time, even. There are probably a million different ways I could try to answer your question, but at the end of the day, I want to make him happy. Because that'll make me happy."

Ky stands speechless. She watches as Flint pops the last balloon and the vendor hands him his prize: a round, huggable, bean-shaped unicorn plush. She sees the hint of a smile flash across his face as he turns towards her and Bari while holding the prize tightly against his chest.

For a moment, she feels that she almost understands him. At least, she feels that she understands him through Bari's eyes.

    As Flint walks toward them, Ky leans toward Bari and offers a whisper. "I'm sorry. I get why you're annoyed with me."

    "Oh, you're fine," Bari says with a shake of his head. "But it's appreciated."

    "What are you guys going on about?" Flint asks, stopping in front of the pair with a curious look.

    "Nothing really..." Bari's eyes drift to and focus on the plush in Flint's arms. "Hey, that thing's pretty big— Ky I know what you're going to say, don't you dare."

    "Dang it!" Ky shouts with a snap of her fingers. Flint only blinks in his complete ignorance.

    "My point is, it's big. You think you'll be able to carry that thing around when we get back on the road?"

    Flint's grasp on the plush gets the slightest bit tighter. "I'll find a way."

    Ky finds herself laughing.

*  *  *

Fueled on nothing but energy drinks, three hours of sleep, and a cookie, Ky somehow finds herself making more progress today than she has in the past month. She has finished most of her assignments appointed by her most important and high-paying clients, meaning she can dedicate more time to compiling the list of schools for Bari and Flint. The good news is that "Starid" is a rarer surname, meaning that the list was going to be extremely short and manageable. The bad news is that Ky still had to check every database, regardless.

    But she's nearing the end. At this rate, she'll have a finished list and be ready to send the boys off on their quest within the next couple of days.

    The thought fills her with dread.

    Early afternoon, her hunger finally catches up with her. Begrudgingly, she puts her work on pause, slams her laptop shut, and slips it under her arm. She'll just have to continue working as she eats in the kitchen. 

    As she walks down the hall, she spots Bari sprawled across the living room couch. She hears the faint sound of voices— some rom-com is playing on the television. Bari watches absentmindedly, face relaxed and coffee brown eyes glazed over in a trance.

    Ky leans against the entryway and lays a hand on her hip. "A chick flick? Really?"

    Color rushes to Bari's cheeks, but he tries to remain poker-faced. "Movies don't have genders, last I checked."

    "Suuure." Ky cackles at the way Bari's nose crinkles. That smile, however, quickly falls from her face. "Hey... where's Flint?"

    "In bed," Bari answers flatly.

    "...In bed? This late?"

    "Yeah, couldn't get him out of it." Bari forces a strained smile. "It happens sometimes. He'll snap out of it, just give him time."

    Ky remains still, blankly staring at Bari without a coherent thought in her head. She eventually finds it in herself to slowly nod and back away from the living room.

    Forgetting all about the kitchen and food, she heads straight for her dad's old room.

*  *  *

There's a knock on the door. Flint doesn't answer, doesn't so much as make a sound. He continues to lay with the bedsheets over his head and his hand resting on Lulu's stomach, letting the vibrations of her purrs run up his arm and down his spine.

    The door squeaks open. "Flint?"

    A feminine voice calls out to him— Ky. He doesn't answer— to think of the words would take too much energy. To form them in his mouth would take too much energy, to speak them aloud would take too much energy. He'd rather lay limp like a puppet without strings.

    "Are you in here—? Oh! You're underneath the covers. Bari mentioned you're kind of like a turtle in that way. Uh, anyway, you good?"

Silence.

"Alright, not the best sign. How about this? I'm gonna sit here and work until you're ready to chat? Okay?"

Silence.

"Okay then."

Flint can feel her weight settle at the end of the mattress. Soon after, there's the sound of vigorous typing. There's no rhythm to it; the banging of the keyboard is unsynchronized and nonsensical, but there's still something soothing about it. He finds his eye fluttering closed and his body unconsciously nestling further into the mattress. The unwavering foreboding dread that hangs over him begins to slowly dissipate.

He nearly falls asleep again, but Lulu's paw prodding at his nose wakes him up. He brushes her cheek with his finger, making her whiskers twitch as she trills. He feels Ky's weight shuffle slightly, and he remembers that she's sitting here with him.

Flint scrapes up all the life left in his body, pulls the sheets from over his head, and sits up— Ky jumps at the sudden movement.

"God! You scared me!"

"Sorry."

"It's whatever. You feeling better?"

"Yeah..." Flint nervously rubs his arm. "Um. What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you company, dummy," Ky says.

"...But why?"

"Why not? I wanna help out."

"But I didn't think you liked me much."

Ky's eyes widen. She tears her gaze from Flint, shutting her laptop and sliding it onto the floor. Then she drums her fingers against her lips— Flint imagines she's thinking of the best, gentlest way to tell him that he's right on the money.

"It's alright if you don't," he says.

"Oh Christ, no, no, no. You're perceptive, I'll give you that, but you're at the totally wrong conclusion. I never disliked you. I just didn't get you... so it was kinda... awkward?"

Flint looks to his lap, unconvinced.

"I mean it. I just didn't understand you— hell, I still don't." Ky toys with the end of her hair as she tries to regain eye contact. "You're kind of an oddball, gotta admit. But then again, aren't we all? Besides, how could I dislike someone so good at bubble wand warfare? Or someone with such an eloquent taste in carnival prizes? Or a cat-lover?— I'm more of a dog person myself, but I gotta respect my cat people brethren. Anyway, quirks aside, you seem pretty cool."

Flint's eye shifts to Lulu, who he continues to pet with his fingers. "...You're being honest?"

"Cross my heart."

"...So you don't mind me?"

"Not at all!"

"...Does that mean we're friends?"

"...I don't see why we wouldn't be!"

Flint meets Ky's eyes with a gentle smile. "Cool."

Ky smiles back at him. "Yeah. Okay, so, since we're officially friends now, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

"...I want to play with your hair. I've wanted to play with your hair since day one. So please, let me!"

Flint blinks once, twice— he wasn't expecting this. He reaches to the back of his head and lets his fingers graze his hair, long and lazily tied back now that he's not banned from having hair ties. He remembers the pain of having his hair constantly grabbed and yanked. Risha was always fond of pulling him by the hair, even when it was still relatively short.

The dread must've shown on his face.

"Only if you're cool with it, I'm not going to force you. But, like, 'cuz we're friends and all, I was hoping you'd let me have a little fun with that mane of yours."

"...Alright. I'll let you."

"Yeah it's okay, I get it— wait. Really?" Ky's dark eyes glow with pure, unhinged excitement. "Shit, I wasn't expecting you to say yes!"

    Flint turns his head, glancing down at the carpet. "...I only ask that you don't pull at my hair."

    "Oh, of course! I take it this is your first time?" Ky snickers, a cheeky grin stretched across her face. "I'll have to be extra gentle with you, then."

    Flint keeps his eye on the ground. His expression doesn't so much as twitch, remaining completely blank.

    "Come on. Not even a chuckle?"

    Ky put her hands on her hips. Flint peeks up at her with an innocent look.

    "Was I supposed to?" He asks. "Did you say something funny?"

    "...Oh dear, that completely flew over your head, didn't it?"

    "What flew over my head? Did you say something weird?"

    "...N-nevermind."

    "I don't understand—"

    "C-come sit on the end of the bed! I'm going to grab a hairbrush! Be right back!"

    Ky zooms out of the room like a bat out of hell. Flint stands motionless, tilting his head at the empty space where Ky once stood.

    "...Weird," he mutters to himself with a shrug. He seats himself at the foot of the bed, not even attempting to make sense of Ky's bizarre behavior.

    As promised, Ky quickly pops back into the room with a hairbrush in hand. She sits down beside Flint and gestures for him to turn around so that his back will face her. He obliges, though his shoulders stiffen and his frame shakes from tension. Before Ky even has a chance to untie his hair, he lets out a hushed shriek. His eye shuts tight in anxious anticipation.

    "...Geez." Ky sighs. "You're trying really hard, aren't you?"

    Flint slowly opens his eye and lowers his shoulders. "Trying really hard to what...?"

    Ky reaches forward and pulls at his hair tie, causing his eye to snap back shut and his body to violently twitch. She persists regardless, letting his hair loose and combing her fingers through his chestnut locks. 

    "To get better."

    Ky takes a strand of his hair in hand and delicately strokes it with the brush. The brush's bristles slip through the tangles with ease, resulting in only harmless, painless tugs at his roots. Flint opens his eye, listening to the rhythmic crunch of the brush and Ky humming the sporadic notes of a song he did not recognize. With each stroke of the brush, the more his muscles eased and unwound. His heartbeat slowed its pace—  he hadn't even realized how hard and fast his heart pounded against his chest.

    "Yeah," he says, shutting his eye— this time as if preparing to fall asleep. "I am..."

    Ky stops her humming mid-note. "That's good. I think you're doing an awesome job. And by the way, you have such nice hair. Suuuuper soft! It must've taken a lot of patience to grow it out this long. I commend you!"

    "... I dunno. I only let it grow this long because I didn't care enough to cut it. I only ever cut at my bangs when they got in the way."

    "Is that why your bangs are uneven? I mean, not that it's super noticeable. Your hair has so much volume that it hides it well."

    "Yeah... I don't know, my appearance never really mattered to me. I mean, how could it? I have all these scars. I'm going to look like a freak no matter what I do."

    Ky freezes, the brush reaching a screeching halt in the middle of a stroke.

    "Flint..." Ky speaks slowly, as if she's still processing her words as she says them. "...I should totally bonk you aside the head with this hairbrush."

    Flint seizes up. "Are you going to?"

    "Obviously not! But honestly, you shouldn't say such awful things about yourself!"

    "But it's true. When you first saw me, you looked at me like a freak." Flint's tone is firm and flat as if his words are absolute. "...And I can't blame you."

    Flint's hair falls from Ky's fingers. She looks to the boy hanging his head, then hesitantly down at her palm. Her voice gently wavers.

    "...Okay. I'll be honest with you, seeing those scars all over your face caught me off guard."

    She takes a deep breath in, then out, and suddenly the hesitance that has momentarily overtaken her is gone. She reaches for Flint's hair, and although he flinches and recoils, her fingers take hold of a strand that she promptly continues to brush.

    "But let me tell you, I wasn't looking at you all like 'wow, that guy is so ugly!' I was more like 'wow, how did he get all those scars?!' If anyone ever asks, you could always say you're of the naval force and have three-hundred confirmed kills."

    "Like anyone would believe that," Flint scoffs.

    "My point is, yeah, the scars threw me off at first. But that initial shock only lasts for so long. Now I could look at you and go, 'wow, this boy is absolutely adorable!' 'Cuz really, you are the cutest little thing!"

    Flint's cheeks turn a rosy pink. He throws his hands over his cheeks to hide his blush— he could feel the heat on his palms. "I'm not a 'little thing.' I'm no infant. I'm nineteen... I think."

    "Hmm... alright. Then you're a fine, dashing, handsome young man who's ready to take this world by storm."

    "Oh my god..."

"I know! We should get you a stallion! With a stallion and this long hair of yours, you'd be able to pull off a seriously cool prince look. You'll have the ladies swooning!"

"Staaaaaaaaahp!"

Ky flies into a laughing fit as she sets the hairbrush aside and begins to separate Flint's hair into three sections. "You're way too much fun to tease, you know that?"

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Am not..."

"Are too!"

Ky continues to giggle uncontrollably. Flint buries his face in his hands as she weaves his hair into a single braid. She ties the end with the boy's hairband and slings the braid over his shoulder.

    "Huh. Say, I think your hair looks really nice like this. Perhaps it could become your new look!" Ky stands up and extends her hand toward Flint. "C'mon! Come see!"

    Flint slowly and cautiously takes her hand only to be immediately yanked up from his seat and dragged to the opposite side of the room. A mirror waits for him atop a vanity— Ky holds him out before it, standing behind him with her hands on her shoulders. His reflection stares back at him.

    Flint has always avoided his reflection. He despised both it and the mirrors that created it. The only times he's faced it was when he was forced to by cruel hands holding him in place— Ky's touch rattles him like the echo of grim memories that danced at the edge of consciousness.

But when he looks into this mirror, he's not looking at the person he's come to expect to see. He's not sobbing, he's not bleeding, he's not bruised and broken. There is no bag beneath his eye, his face is not long and sullen, his hair is not tangled and matted. There's no sadistic hand wrapped tightly beneath his chin, forcing him to look forward. There's no malicious grin hovering behind him, telling him to look and see what he really is. Despite all the scars on his face, despite the white strands in his bangs, he looks... alright. He looks okay.

He can smile at that boy staring back at him.

    "What do you think?" Ky asks.

    "...I think you did a nice job." Flint smiles. "Do you really think it suits me?"

    "For sure!"

    "Then... maybe I'll wear it like this more often."

    "Sounds like a plan to me! Do you need me to teach you how to braid?"

    Flint shakes his head. Warm nostalgia widens his smile. "I know how... I used to braid my sister's hair for her."

    "Awe, how sweet! Well then, now that we've got your brand new look set up for you, there's one thing left to do! We gotta get you a hobby!"

    "...Huh?"

    Before Ky can answer, there's a sudden sound of scratching at the shut door. A large, fluffy white paw sticks its claws underneath and tries to tug it open.

    "Awe," Ky coos. "Looks like Dow wants to come in."

    She turns to Flint— he can practically feel the pure expectation breathing down his neck.

    "...Is Dow a good dog?" he asks.

    "Is Dow a good dog? Flint, he's the best dog."

"...Okay." Flint sucks in a deep breath of air and lets out a long sigh. "Open the door."

*  *  *

"Ky? Flint?" Bari calls as he wanders the house aimlessly. "Crap, man. Where is everybody?"

    Flustered, he scratches his head as he paces down the main hall a second time. In the corner of his eye, he notices that the door to the master bedroom is ajar— strange, he remembers closing it when he left the room.

    He pushes the bedroom door open, and the sight that greets him nearly sweeps the rug from beneath his feet.

    Ky's massive dog lays flat as if he were roadkill, his legs all stretched out and his tongue hanging loose. Ky and Flint lay side by side, heads resting on Dow's stomach as if he were a pillow. Ky's arms are wrapped around her laptop as if it were a snuggly blanket, her cheek even nuzzled against it. Flint holds the plush unicorn in one arm while his other is nestled around Lulu, who is curled up in a ball on top of Flint's stomach.

    Ky, Flint, Dow, Lulu— each one of them is sound asleep.

    Bari could just melt where he stands.

*  *  *

Three more days was all it took. Ky's list is complete.

    And it's short— there are only three possible schools in the entirety of Votno. That makes matters easy. Between that short list and the fact that Votno and Fyrai border each other, the boys were going to find Robin in no time.

    Ky was about to see them off, but she abruptly raced back into her house as she frantically shouted "I forgot something!" Bari and Flint were left sitting on the front porch, waiting.

    As minutes begin to pass, Flint grabs his bag and takes out the box of colored pencils and the sketchbook that Ky had gifted him. Her reasoning: "If you're going to sit around doodling, you might as well actually doodle something instead of endless scribbles."

    Bari leans over to peek at Flint's drawing— instantly, he's lost. He sees a giant black blob that appears to have a face. From its eyes, streams of red and blue drip down its body in the most jagged fashion possible. Flint notices Bari's gaze; his body stiffens.

    "... It's a crying demon."

    "Oh! Yeah, I see it." Bari nods his head as he pulls back, giving Flint his space. "Looks nice."

    Flint says nothing. He keeps feverishly scribbling with his blue pencil as Bari takes a long, soothing breath. His lips twitch into a smile— he's glad Flint's expressing himself somehow.

    The front door creaks open. Ky leaps out while holding one of her hands behind her back. Flint quickly throws his things back into his bag, and both boys stand up to greet her.

    "Sorry about that! I had to find wrapping paper." Ky grins from ear to ear— usually, there's a smug air to her smiles, but this one is light and weightless. She removes her hand from behind her back to unveil a small box, neatly gift-wrapped with a ribbon tied around it in a tidy little bow. "Surprise! You guys are going to need this."

    "Oh, wow, Ky!" Bari's face lights up. "You didn't need to do this!"

    "But alas, I did! So get unwrapping!"

    With a chortle, Ky shoves the box into Bari's hands. The boy makes quick work of it, pulling the ribbon loose and ripping apart the wrapping paper. He pops the box open and gasps, lifting his head to look at Ky with disbelieving eyes.

    "Holy— Ky! We can't take this!"

    Flint perks up with curiosity. "What is it?"

    "Her camera!"

    Bari tries to hand the digital camera back to her, but Ky shoves it right back at him.

    "Please, I could always buy another one. Besides, I only got a dog to take pictures of. You two are going to have all sorts of fun new experiences, and you oughta have a camera to capture 'em! So you need that thing way more than I do!"

    Ky gives a thumbs up, offering an assuring nod as Bari gawks at her. Bari's hands wrap around the small camera, shaking ever so slightly with hesitation. The uncertainty in his expression slowly withers as he steps forward and throws his arms around Ky.

    "Thank you so much, Ky. I'm going to miss you and even your damned mouth."

    Ky wraps her arms around him with a somber laugh and pats his back. "Likewise, Bari B. Bensen."

    They pull away from each other, and Ky's sights immediately dart to Flint. The pure expectation, forgoing simple, easy breathing, begins to practically scream on the back of his neck. Sweat builds upon his forehead.

    He looks away with a slight wince and opens his arms.

    "Awe! Flint!" Ky lunges at the opportunity, pulling him into a quick, tight embrace. "Thank you. Oh, and bye to you too, kitty cat."

    As Ky recedes, she looks to the kitten happily perched on Flint's shoulder. She pats her head once, and the kitten offers a short meow in return.

    "My god, it's going to be way too quiet now. Go on, you two. Before I ask you to stay forever. Oh, and when you guys decide to stop by again, you better have pictures!"

    "That's a promise," Bari says as he begins to turn around. "Thank you again, for everything. Be seeing you later, Ky."

    Flint follows Bari's lead and turns. "...Bye, Ky. Thank you."

    The pair walk off the porch and begin to head down the street. They look back one last time to see Ky still standing in the doorway; she raises her hand and gives them a wide wave.

"Be safe, you two!" 

*  *  *

"Thank you for everything, Bari."

    "Huh?"

    Bari looks down at Flint with an arched brow— the walk from Ky's house has mostly been silent. For Flint to suddenly speak— and for him to say that of all things— it caught Bari completely off guard.

    "What do you mean, Flint?"

    "I mean... just, thank you. You've done so much for me... I promise I'll repay you someday— ack!"

    Bari pokes Flint's cheek, causing him to flinch and screech. Flint throws a hand over his poked cheek.

    "Bari!"

    "Not my fault. Wouldn't have to poke you if you didn't say such stupid things." Bari laughs as he throws his hands behind his head. "We're friends, Flint— actually, more than that, we're family. You don't owe me anything. I know if things were in reverse, you'd say the same thing and refuse any thanks."

    "B-but—"

    "Don't make me poke you again, Flint."

    "Really, though! You've saved me from that hell hole, you're helping through all this... this crap in my head! Bari...! I owe you something...! I feel like I'm a burden..."

    "...I know you do," Bari says. "But you aren't. And I know I tell you this all the time, but you need to be kinder to yourself. More patient with yourself. And stop worrying about burdening me so much. I'm okay, Flint. I'm alright. I want to support you because I want to see you happy. Because you deserve to be happy. As much as anybody else, you deserve to be happy. So just focus on that, even if it takes time."

    "...But—"

    "Oh, enough with the buts! Just say okay for me, okay?"

    "...Okay," Flint says. "Okay."

    Bari grins and continues walking forward— only to stop in his tracks when Flint hugs him from behind. It lasts only a few moments before Flint draws back, crossing his arms and looking to the ground.

    Bari turns around and stares at him. "Flint..."

    "The last time you tried to hug me, I pushed you off. Didn't feel right to me, so..."

    "...Ah." Bari smiles. "Message received. C'mon, let's keep going."