I finally went shopping. 

Not even for groceries; after class I immediately headed to the nearest thrift store to scrounge for what survival gear people decided they didn't need. I've gone thrifting before; at some point some acquaintances had dragged me along and I came out of that outing with a few bags’ worth of new things. There were a lot of things. Maybe more than I needed, but it was sparkly and I liked sparkly things a bit more than I realized. 

This time I found scrubs.

I don't know why people donated those, but it was mildly amusing to try them on. They were a bit oversized so they fit very well over my hoodie. 

But more importantly, I found a fireproof jacket. I don't know why someone would donate such a useful item, but I guess not everyone deals with fire this often. Fine.

Besides that, I grabbed a few more utility items and went home. This was supposed to be the easier part, but it still took be two hours to decide which flashlight I would like the most. People threw out flashlights very often, it seems. 

The more difficult part was getting a weapon. I couldn't really defend myself with just a knife; everyone else had guns and I constantly felt the inkling that I was missing out. Of course it wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies either; I had to go through so many people in the shadows of downtown Vancouver to even gain enough trust to see a gun. There was no way I could go the aboveboard route from how many background checks it required (and the idea of them asking Caliose about me was unsettling), so I had to stick with this plan.

Eventually I bought one, which put quite a dent in my savings. I hope this was worth it.

At this point I was going to have to buy fireproof coats straight from the warehouse. 

More importantly, I finally got to the advisor after a few weeks of talking to multiple people (dropped my major-related classes and switched to Engineering, MSE specifically); I feel like from dealing with bureaucracy alone I got a million times better at speaking, but I really wouldn't know unless I actually bothered to chat with whoever decided to pay attention to me. Hard luck.

Why Engineering? I find that numbers and machines are a lot easier to look at compared to the amount of times I've tried to give people the benefit of doubt with everything I've learnt in Crim classes. Understanding what the Oedipus complex is doesn't make me any less disgusted at it. Sure, this throws me right back into the Asian math geek archetype, and my graduation has been set back, but I figured I'd put the DIY skills to use. I've been taking related electives anyway. 

Koriol was the first to find out, having been in the area dealing with some transcript errors. The moment he locked onto my existence he closed in like a homing missile, and of course the first question he asked was whether Caliose was around. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He wasn't going to pester her today. Did he really think she'd be around me 24/7? She has her own stuff to do; she doesn't even go here. I only saw her a couple times per month as it were, though I also rarely ran into Koriol or anyone we knew because midterms were ramping up. 

Except he hung around me anyway, and as long as he stayed quiet like this, I wasn't going to complain. It's been a long few days and a bit of familiarity around isn't unwelcome. Still, why did he ask if Caliose was around, if he was just going to hang out with me?

I sighed and turned to him as we stepped out of the building. "Look, being around me won't gain you any favours with Caliose."

He tilted his head.

Why did he look so... confused?

"I know."

Whatever. I needed to go home and redo my entire degree planning sheet now. It really didn't help that Koriol had to take the same bus (this part wasn't him being creepy; his townhouse was legitimately along the route). And I didn't feel like sitting in awkward silence for an hour, so like any intelligent individual, I sat down with him at a Pho place on campus. Something was weird today; normally Koriol would never stop yapping about anything and everything. The only difference was that I was the only person here, but was I so scary that he'd just immediately shut up? I'd have been proud of myself if not for the fact that this was actually incredibly strange. 

As much as I complained about him, it's not like we didn't get along. We had a common circle of friends (though Hezalea was hardly what I'd call a friend) and I personally haven't argued with anyone yet. Good enough, right? Honestly, Koriol wasn't half bad whenever he wasn't interacting with other girls. We had productive conversations, if only about academics or our limited understanding of pop culture. His family worked in PR so he was familiar enough with the system to help me sometimes. I don't know, I rarely tell people much about myself unless they ask. It was probably a protective response that I developed, considering the neighbourhoods I had lived in before moving to Canada. 

This made me wonder if I really knew anyone in the friend group at all.

...Maybe I should start talking to people. It really has nothing to do with how much I care about societal standards. This is just... normal human interaction.

I don't think I can fool myself any longer. 

I've had nightmares about this for weeks, it's not even funny. The more the adrenaline wears off, the more I find wrong with the entire situation. Of course I feel bad about putting Lily on the spot like that - is it bad to say this isn't the worst part? 

Superlatives aside, it's so easy to brush it off when people brag about their first kiss and their first... whatevers, but now I realize there's something truly wrong with me because I dread telling anyone about this. Or, I'm just a decent person who doesn't see girls as bragging righ- 

I didn't ask for consent.

Of course in that situation it's not possible, and I guess it didn't count in the first place, and so... am I supposed to be so stuck on this whole thing? I doubt she'd think much of it. Or she hates me and will find a way to kill me no matter how much she's against killing anyone because I've proven to be worse than the most pathetic morsel on Earth-

God, why couldn't I be like the other dudes? They seem to be having a blast. Maybe if I didn't feel so unnaturally disgusted by the frat-

What am I saying. Even SFU refuses to recognize Greek life, I'm not even going to begin humouring those groups either. 

What am I going to tell Koriol?

Er... Caliose. 

What am I going to tell Caliose.

"Hey, so I kissed a girl but it wasn't really a kiss because we didn't really have that kind of physical contact but there was a bit of contact but only-" She wouldn't care. She wouldn't give a damn who I kissed as long as I didn't make the girl uncomfortable. Or at least, that's what I think she'd say. Haven't ever talked to her about romance because she's bound to start talking about Hezalea and even if I've accepted that truth, I'd still very much rather stay away from people's love lives. 

Why am I talking as if any of this mattered? It was just a diversion tactic borne out of contract mishaps. 

It meant... nothing. 

I felt nothing besides pure fear. I don't think I've ever even considered kissing Caliose. I say there are reasons I didn't want us to live together but are there, really? Sometimes it feels like my crush on her isn't really a crush at all. Sometimes it feels like, with her, I'm only captivated by the mystery surrounding her - or rather, surrounding... the thing that acts like her.

Who am I kidding? She's stopped being Caliose the day she came up to me feigning amnesia. I knew, I knew from the start, but I held on anyway because who knows when someone will care again. 

And I shouldn't dwell if I only want her around because she fuels my self esteem. I don't think I actually like girls in that way. At this point I don't think I like anyone that way. Maybe that's better for me. But something still doesn't feel right. I'm missing an important piece of the puzzle and I'm hesitating on everything I do because I can't stop second-guessing myself.

Nothing feels right as of now.

I'm trying to understand, trust me, I am.

I just wish things weren't so complicated. 

I wish feelings were as easy to understand as the ashes of the Firebird in the air.

Also, I started driving lessons.

And Minecraft. Jacob is satisfactory at following up with things. Good thing he hasn't asked about what happened when the group split. To be fair we were talking about more serious things like his whole... surveillance thing. Didn't believe I could meet someone more paranoid than I was. 

Been a while. I wonder if Koriol played Minecraft. He probably didn't have time for such trivial things. Not to mention it probably wouldn't be a good idea for me to create any connection between him and this entire situation at hand. As many connections as he might have (purely speculation on my part) I doubt he'd be safe when it comes to the entire system coming at his throat. 

It's also surprising enough that he'd talk to me in the first place, considering how rarely I hang out with Caliose nowadays (both in order to keep her safe, and to avoid having to look her in the eye). Recently she's become much more reckless than before. Even without any of this going on, I'm worried enough about her that I'd start yelling at her if I saw her anytime soon. She tried to jump out into the road to save a crow.

Apparently it was because I liked birds. 

Apparently it was because I told her about her heroic streak from our time in Japan, as if she suddenly remembered she liked saving lives. I think I know why I can't handle hearing Lily go on about the value of life now.

But she can't throw her own away just because I pointed out that she'd always consider other people until it killed her. She can't put the blame on me for saying anything about it - before anything else she's still my friend - how did she think I'd feel, seeing her dive into the first sign of danger? This was the same person who told me to "live". Or maybe not. 

And of course, Koriol noticed the tension between us right away. He only came up to me after Caliose went home. He didn't try to pry, but I could tell he was worried. Still smiling, but worried. He thought we were close.

Ha.

I think about that sometimes. 

I wonder what it means.

“Where did you go off to?” How do I tell him that knowledge kills people?

He probably knows that much. Koriol isn't stupid - he's the last person I'd use that descriptor for. If anything he's been catching on from the start. 

I'd never pride myself in being noticeable, but Koriol notices everyone. He knows the ins and outs of people's behaviors and he knows for sure that, as much as I stay away from socializing, as much as I openly reject social etiquette, I wouldn't just leave a friend behind. I wonder if he thinks - knows - I actually care to some extent. If he asks, I'd rather die than admit it, but I do. There are many things I would never tell him, specifically. He doesn't need to know. He doesn't need to suffer. It'd be selfish of me if I did.

And then Jacob proceeds to ask whether I'm freaky. What gave him that idea? He's totally self-projecting - 

Speaking of Jacob, the very fact that I'm interacting with him has probably put me on some sort of list. Nowadays I don't have much to hide, but it doesn't mean I get to relax whenever I go somewhere. At some point he asks Lily and I for help and we ended up going all the way to Coquitlam for a midnight picnic. On the way there we had… quite the experience. I'm pretty sure Lily's brother is involved in some secret tryst, and Jacob has this thing where he starts talking about himself in the third person. He was very beaten up - half of his face was bandaged for the longest time. It was stressful. I didn't know how long it'd take before Lily would decide it isn't worth it to keep any of us alive. It's hard riding in the same car, especially after what happened two months ago. Thankfully it ended with all of us alive, and with Jacob’s new… cosmetics. 

…Maybe I should go stargazing again. Koriol would like that.

I can never tell if he's joking. 

Maybe it's the fact that he's texting in the group chat. Maybe it's the fact that just because I notice things, doesn't mean I know how to read the room. I'm socially awkward, I'm closed off, what more can I say?

But there comes a point where I start to see things - things that may not even exist. It's like seeing a ghost. I can't tell if it was really there or if I'm overthinking and over analyzing as usual. That's what I'm primed to do; I was a Crim student, and my childhood friend was incredibly intent on giving even the smallest details a thousand words. Does it justify the assumption that Koriol meant what I thought he did? That message could've been for anyone. I checked. I fucking checked. I had to make sure. But of course my mind’s started making excuses: “He's lying, he’s a good liar.” “He has no reason to lie, you sicko.” “You were the only one online at the time.” “But this is a group chat with all our friends; why would he be serious?” 

I told myself that I wouldn't rush. I told myself that things never end well when I'm the one pursuing anything. I doubt Koriol even knows me enough, nor do I know him. He… probably likes Caliose. That's what I've been telling myself. It's torturing me but I'm used to it. But when it causes me to tremble for two hours straight (if only it were the cold, I'm sensitive to the cold, but it wasn't the cold because I turned the heat on thinking I was freezing but it wasn't that, dammit), ramping up with every tick of the clock, I start to hate myself more than I did before. It shouldn't be like this. It's all too familiar because my chest is buzzing and it's like I'm having a panic attack and it has to stop. How do I make it stop? The only thing that's worked has been to tell the person. 

I didn't do it well. I don't do anything well. Probably caused more harm than good. I've ruined the friendship. I liked this friendship, I'll admit. I wouldn't have said anything if it meant we could stay friends. I mean, I'm always jabbing at him, I wouldn't be friends with me if I had the choice. The trembling has stopped but at what cost? Now I'm fucking scared. I don't expect anything to come out of this, I don't expect anything from him, not even an answer, I wish I could tell him this. But the right thing to do is to give him space. I never prioritized romance. I just had to get rid of the trembles. I couldn't lose sleep over this, I've got classes to worry about, but did I consider that he also had stuff to do?

God.

Live. It's the worst curse that's ever been put on me - and now I've placed it upon Jacob as if telling a man to live is enough to keep him going. I can't just assume my own experience would apply to anyone else. Caliose meant more to me than what I am to Jacob. She was there and she had dreams and she was brave enough to share them with me and ask me if I wanted to join her. I couldn't disappoint her. I promised. And what am I without the promises I make? Nothing.

I have to see it through. 

It's not a recent realization, but recent occurrences have rekindled this fact. I was losing sight of it - am I so dumb as to forget the moment she's not there to remind me? How low have I stooped? How far have I fallen? Climb back up. Rise from the ashes. This is my revival. Do not squander the founding of a new reason.

I wouldn't call myself foolish for taking it to heart, but I am a fool for acting like that's the only thing that pushes me to keep going. However, I've been acting for so long that it's become an absolute truth that strangles me in its iron grasp - it's a narrative I must keep up if I don't want to lose traction. It's a fire I need to fuel or I'll lose everything.

I don't want to lose everything.

There's... so much left to lose. I just can't do it. No wonder I failed to take any big risks. Call it self-preservation all I want but in reality it's just plain paranoia and I hate it so much. Why am I like this? First sign of danger and I freeze up. The smallest threat, the subtlest glare and I find my nerves going cold. But what's the point - am I really living if I refuse to take liberties? (Well, if I'm dead I won't have the chance to risk myself in the first place.) 

So, why do I keep going?

I have a reason to.

Why do I think that?

Because that's how it was from the start. I go through each day with a goal in mind and that keeps me afloat.

What next, then? After I meet my goals?

Find more reasons. Keep finding them because I shouldn't give myself time to think of anything else. I don't know - get a degree, get a job, try to make something new, go back to uni, get a higher degree or go into a different program, meet friends, keep going on contracts, keep going, keep going, keep going because my life depends on it.

Why wouldn't I want any time to achieve inner peace?

Because there is no peace awaiting me besides the silence of death. This 'will to survive' has become yet another obsession and I'm terrified of what I'll become without it. If I am to live aimlessly then I would only be alive. I don't want to do that - I'm not a hypocrite, not for that, never for that-

Why not?

Why? Leave me alone, Koriol.

He's the one who always asks the simple two-worded question, and I am never able to give a real answer. Nor can he. Speaking of, I hadn't seen him in a while. He's been worried sick about Hezalea, and with her recent return, it's no wonder the first thing he does is go home. I doubt things between them will ever be the same considering what she is, yet he still sticks around her. Makes me wonder if I'll ever have a friend that cares about me in that way. Maybe I do. Maybe I did. Maybe that's why I'm still here and I don't want to leave and I don't want to lose the very reason-

I think I've made a grave mistake. One in the millions of mistakes I've made so far, but one that makes me stop in my tracks nonetheless. I keep telling people to do things when I myself can barely handle any of it. I've done it - did I execute it well? Not at all.

I also realize I sound very calm when I describe all of this. Calm as I could be. Relatively. Doesn't sound like I'm spiraling, does it? 

Good.

I am levelheaded. I have to be.

Because this isn't just... anger.

I think... I understand. Not completely - probably not ever, but at least there's an inkling that pricks at me in my most delirious moments. I lie awake, aware of all the ruin I've wrought - I am both the destruction and the debris.

I am afraid.

"I'm sorry."

What's with all the 'sorry's and 'thank you's these days? Is it Be Kind month or something? Pretty sure it's only gotten one day in the past, but that's Canada for you, I gue-

I should answer Koriol.

"For what?"

“I've just… not been the greatest friend. For no reason at that-”

"I mean, you have plenty of reason to."

"Please don't sell yourself short like this, Zeph."

“You were telling me the truth, there's really nothing more I could've asked for.” He doesn't look convinced. Of course he's already got his own little narrative going on that he's wronged me somehow. I thought it was the other way around - I guess we're both just as bad at this. “If anything you helped shed some clarity on my situation.”

Koriol tilts his head, but he surely knows that I can't elaborate on that. “I'm… glad.”

“Koriol, seriously, I know you've been in a really bad place.”

He laughs sorely. He itches at the back of his neck and looks away. “It wasn't that big of a deal-”

Not this shit. “Didn't your childhood friend get arrested and outed as a-” As a what, really? Person with darker blood than normal?

“I can't really help it if she acts like it's nothing.”

Typical. I don’t say this out loud - I’ve probably fallen into the same patterns before.

I sigh. We're sitting in a study area, though the foot traffic is too heavy for it to be anywhere near conducive. I place my hands over my ears and Koriol looks away, fiddling with the fabric of his sleeve.

"It's not you- just... it's loud here."

He looks at me for a few seconds before he stands up. "We can go elsewhere, then?"

I pick up my bag. We're walking around the residential areas now. A group of students have gathered outside one of the buildings because of a fire alarm. Besides that, Koriol still appeared extremely apologetic. I had to ask him. Something was weighing him down, was it not?

But before I could, he asks me about Caliose. He sees my frown. There's no reason not to answer, though, so I do. I talk about how she's been destroying herself for a pursuit that she doesn't even believe in. I talk about how she's probably an imposter. I talk about how I clung on anyway because some part of me hoped that seeing her for all her good qualities would bring her back. Instead it just molded her into this artificial idea of perfection, separated from the rest of humanity. I haven't seen her in a while - I don't know if she's even still alive, and I don't want an answer to that. I'm not even going to try to check. He mutters something and I look up. 

"What?"

"You're... spiraling, Zeph."

What. I feel a chill in the air. Didn't wear enough layers today. Thought I could handle it. I can - I swear I can. 

"This is exactly what I feared."

"...What is it." The ambient noise of civilization stalls behind us. 

"You'd leave the moment you realize I'm not as perfect as you think I am. That's what you did to Caliose. I'm sorry I was so flippant when you told me but-"

"She thinks she's perfect, she thinks she has to be, I never told her I wanted that - this was all her choice. I only told her what I perceived of her-"

"And you perceived her to be perfect." Koriol stops walking. "Did you not?"

I can't find it in me to answer. Do I nod? I shiver instead but I try to hide it in jerky movements. I don't need Koriol to see that I'm anywhere near bothered by this. I don't need his pity. "I didn't stop talking to her just because of that. It's just unhealthy to be around each other knowing I'd be worried sick and she'd do anything to try and fix the problems that arise. She might as well be dead and her blood will be on my hands."

"You just don't want to take the blame."

He's right, isn't he. I step backwards.

"Zephyren, don't back down this easily, this is why we never have actual conversations beyond schoolwork."

Is that what I do?

I didn't even realize.

God.

Somehow I won quite a few rounds of poker. The others insist I'm card-counting but I swear I haven't really touched cards until today. What is card-counting, anyway? I'll have to search that up when I get home. I won with blind confidence, I guess. That's pretty cool.

And then Goro pulled up Jackbox. God, I'm bad at talking. Guess that's another perk of not being a Crim student anymore - less presentations, more 'do things right, there is always a clear solution and an indicator that you've succeeded'.

These people are hilarious. We need to have more game nights, away from all the stress of these jobs. Feels like things would've started on a better note with everyone all the way back during my first Contract if we all just met up to hang out and play games beforehand.

Also, Jacob called me gay? How did he know that? I've never referred to Koriol in any specific way other than to talk about the conversations I've had with him. Either way, there goes any plans I had to come out because this dude decided to out me in the middle of near-strangers, especially in front of one who might be homophobic and racist. Come on, that's not very nice.

Also I think Jacob might be fruity, he kept dodging the questions

Ibzan's house is nice. It's a shame we kinda left a mess in there when Goro gave Jacob a can of beer. It was a beernade. I don't know how Jacob failed to realize that. Whatever, you deserved that. I thought you said you didn't drink. What happened to having a clear head? Not that it's that clear, with all those ghosts swirling around him. Once again, this guy's a chronic liar. Compulsive liar. Something along those lines. Whatever. Hope he's not surprised whenever I say I don't believe him. I've definitely got beef with this guy. Why did I invite him, then? Dunno. Thought it'd be funny for him to meet Remus. It was really funny.

"Tell me about yourself."

God, Koriol, don't do this to me-

"Please."

Well, he did ask. And I did tell myself I'd best answer if someone did, because that's the only chance I'll ever get to share this. What else would I do? Bottle it up? Never ends well - I should know. I do know. Doesn't make it any easier. This time we're sitting in a cafe. No idea why he invited me here. I had taken out my schoolwork to study, but he went and ordered some food. It sits before me now, so I've returned the papers to their respective folders - still in a disarray despite my efforts. It happens when I decide I couldn't care less. Probably means I didn't put enough effort into it, as always. Happy now?

Not at all.

"What do you want to know?"

"What you've been up to."

"I'm not telling you that."

"Not even your interests?" 

I look up from my food. What does he mean, interests? Doesn't he want to know about the more interesting stuff? All the sensational information that people vy to know if it kills them? Koriol's one such person who would choose to turn over every rock in the world if he could learn its cosmic secrets.

Yet here he is asking about the mundane. 

"M...Minecraft."

"That's cool. Have you seen the new snapshot yet?"

"I mean, I mostly play on a server with some... friends. Recently let a warden loose."

He laughs. "I'm guessing you nametagged it." Why does someone like him know about Minecraft? ...Granted, it is pretty popular, but I would've thought this guy focused on actual information that would be useful to him in the future. 

"Yeah, I named it after one of the people on that server." I have no idea how to continue this conversation. "How about you?"

"Hm?" He seems surprised. It's only fair that I get to ask if he did too. "Well, I've been learning to play the violin."

"Why would you choose the hardest instrument to play? Do you even have a musical background?"

"Nope."

"A...are you good at it?" I try to picture Koriol with an instrument in hand. It's not an impossible thought.

"I could be better." Probably means he's decent at it, because of course this perfect man would excel at- stop it, Zeph. Stop falling into the same habit.

"You always say that." It's admirable.

"I do." He grins. "You should watch me sometime."

"I'd rather commit arson." I have. "I'm sure there's something known as backseating with music too."

"I mean, I don't mind. You've played before, right?" Did I tell him that? I did. Sore moment, honestly. Typical Asian kid stuff. I nod. "Hazel's been cooped up in her room all day no matter how horrendously I play, and it's starting to get boring. Really need an audience for my tiny little violin." Is he referring to a song? I think he's referring to a song.

"You've moved recently, right?"

"Yeah. Can't imagine why though." He shrugs, but obviously he knows - there's that twinge of sadness in his face again. "Come visit sometime?"

"Fine, fine." I recently learned that game nights are fun. Who would've guessed. I wonder if Koriol has jackbox or something. He probably has cards. Hezalea would always look quite disturbed whenever he mentioned solitaire for some reason. Then he'd look at her apologetically. Yet another thing I wouldn't ever know, but I'm no different. Eye for an eye.

He looks happy now. "I've been decorating, it's pretty nice there if I do say so myself." I roll my eyes. It's not meant to be meanspirited. Please don't take it the wrong way. "Oh come on, I know I glaze myself all the time but I'm really proud of this one." Koriol speaks like he's just made a masterpiece. He is somewhat of an artist after all. He talks about a classmate of his sometimes - she really loves flowers. She's a bit strange, according to him. A bit shattered. A piecewise function that doesn't really fit together (I'm positive he added that metaphor in for me specifically). Recently she had handed in a really nice statue and flown off to the States for a month or something. Then she came back a little worse for wear. There's concern in Koriol's voice now. "All these people I know, disappearing and reappearing with their lives changed... it's a bit..." He places a hand over his chin as he thinks. He takes a while.

"Alien?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah." Koriol takes a sip of coffee. "Alien."

Oh, if only he knew. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Maybe."

"Probably, but I'm drawing blanks whenever I try to find out. Y'know how Trump died and then ended up not dying? He was on camera - I don't know how they did it."

Wince. Koriol looks directly at me, but he says nothing as he sips (loudly, now) at his nearly depleted drink. "Maybe necromancers are real?"

"I'll take your word on that."

"You'll regret it."

"When do I not?" He laughs again. This isn't a joke. I can tell. "Zeph, it's fine." He's a good liar. But not when he's trying to put a bandage over a rift. 

"Don't say that." 

"Seriously, I feel a lot better than before."

"Doesn't mean it's gone away."

"True, but-"

"You say things about me backing down too easily, but honestly? I'd rather do that than sound like a tornado wrapped in ribbons and bows." Koriol raises an eyebrow. "What I mean is, just stop trying to convince me that the elephant in the room has somehow vanished."

He adjusts himself and leans forward. He's listening. Finally.

"Koriol, why are we here?"

"To hang out."

"You don't know me. I don't know you. You know this - you're the one who told m-"

"I'm trying. ...To get to know you."

"But you're putting up a faze and it really isn't helping. I can't tell you anything if all you're going to do is reciprocate with lies."

"You'd hate me."

"Then let me hate you. Give me that option." The food has gotten cold. I take a bite out of it anyway. "Don't you start putting me on a pedestal too. Let me step forward and punch you if I have to."

"You don't understand." He averts his gaze.

"Look at me." He does. "I don't understand a lot of things. Doesn't make me any less deserving of the truth. I'm trying to understand. I want to know you too." Some light has returned to his eyes. They reflect the ceiling lamps. "And you can't just put all the blame on me for preventing us from talking about anything deeper than our hobbies."

"...That's true." Koriol looks down. He picks up his fork and fiddles around with it. "I just... I'm not ready yet." He looks back at me. "I'll tell you soon. I promise."

Promise?

I wonder how many more times I can take that.

"Oh. And..." I jolt. For a second I'm concerned that he's read my mind. Or maybe I mumbled it and he's heard it. He hasn't. I think he hasn't. He turns to his bag and takes out something wrapped neatly in ornate paper. There's an envelope taped on top. To Zephyren. "Here."

"...What?" In my shock I didn't notice that I've already taken it from his hands.

"Happy birthday."

How did I forget? ...Should I open it now? Traditionally we wouldn't (something about manners too) but we aren't in Hong Kong, neither do I really keep track of their practices. 

"I know you pointed out the flaws behind waiting for this one day, but it would feel awkward otherwise. For me, at least."

Of course.

"You can open it if you want." He can tell I'm curious. Damn you, Koriol.

"...Okay."

An instrument. A... harmonica. Engraved with my name and a fire glyph. How does he- right, he designed it. On the other side there's a phoenix embossed in gold. "...Thank you." It's beautiful. I can't accept this. How much did it cost? Hopefully not much. Please don't tell me.

"Fiddle-style violin is fun. Heard it goes well with this. I'm not forcing you to play anything, but since you know a bit about music it'd be cool if we could jam together sometime."

Can I really do that? It's been a while. I've done some gigs for cash but it's not something I dabble with on a daily basis. "I'd embarrass myself. I was joking about backseating." I put the harmonica back into its case. I wonder why he chose this. I've never played one before. Only a piano and a violin, maybe a bit of guitar. This is a woodwind. Wind. Flying. Imagine all the things I can do if I could fly. This one takes breathing. I don't know if I can breathe right nowadays.

"Backseating doesn't really suit you anyway." Wow, okay. "Either way, do what you want with it." He falters and picks up his cup, realizes it's empty, then eats some of his food. 

I don't say anything - with the way he looks at me and takes deep breaths and looks away at the last second, I can tell he has more to say. We eat in silence for a few minutes. Then he continues.

"If you don't want it you could sell-"

I stand up and clutch the case to my chest. "Why the fuck would I do that?" He's taken aback. Who does he think I am? People are staring now. My face is hot. Wonder how red it is. I sit down. "I'm not selling it, I'm not giving it away, I'm not tossing it either. You gave this to me."

Koriol smiles. His smile is warm.

I look in the mirror.

Heavy eyebags. Sunken eyes. Matted skin. Greasy hair - I had just gotten out of the shower too. What the fuck is wrong with me.

Eyes flash orange. Flinch. So many flammable things in here. Don't know if I can control myself. I always could, so why am I doubting it now? I turn on the tap and splash cold water on my face. I shiver. It's cold. Well, what did I expect? Got some pants on at least. Hoodie's on the table. Guess I've never gotten used to the frigid weather. Why else do I wear a coat all day? I had taken it off anyway. I'm at home. Heater's on. Electricity bills? Whatever.

When I'm not wrapped in a thousand layers, I can move my arms.

...I stare at them for a while.

The person in the mirror maintains eye contact with me. I hate that guy. Can't look him in the eye. He's weird. People think he's wrong in the head. Spaces out and looks into the sky for a little too long. Speaks to nothing at all. When did I start caring about that? I swear I don't. I wrap my arms around myself instead, as tightly as I can. Squeeze until my skin turns to red then white. My lungs let out a small wail in response, but maybe that's because of something else. I can't tell. 

I thought hugs were supposed to be comforting.

But... that doesn't absolve me of the murders.

Those people had been tied up and helpless.

I did nothing to stop them from plowing right through the wooden crosses.

Them.

Them.

Them.

Fuck. Off.

All of you.

Murderers.

Fucking murderers.

I have a line too, you know.

Trampling all over it like it's just some drawing in the sand...

I carved it into stone with my two bare hands. Why else would they be so rugged nowadays? 

You can't pretend it's not there just because you're lying upon it, piling bodies upon bodies to form a bridge across the rift. You burn me to a crisp and turn around acting like this is all normal. There is no righting your wrongs. Just writing my wrongs. Wronging my wrongs. 

Can't even do my own homework right. Even the Harbinger visits out of pity. Haven't you been enough of a fucking disappointment? Chin up. Go on with your day. Keep going. You've got a reason to. You've got several reasons to. One's right by the door. Ever wonder what Pancake thinks of you? Took them away from their owner and left the woman to burn. It wasn't your fire but you had every goddamn chance to put her out.

Face it.

They say Jacob enjoys these games.

You're thriving too.

I swing my hoodie against the mirror and put it on with one movement. Leave the bathroom. Don't spare him another glance.

Pancake wags their tail. I pet them. This one did nothing wrong. Just been thrown into all the wrong situations. Not that different from me. How long have I been in there for?

...An hour. Huh.

Anyways.

[Zephyren picks up the harmonica from his desk and sits on the floor. Pancake keeps him company.]

It burns. It stings. God, why did I think this was a good idea? I mean, this wasn't much different from last time but 'last time' was a few years ago. I had longer hair, Caliose was helping, we were in Japan, just within reach of better supplies. How else would the red have stayed this long?

好痛

好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛好痛 WHATEVER! I'LL GET THROUGH THIS.

The whole process takes a while. Had to lock myself in the bathroom with the ventilation on. My head is spinning from the smell of bleach. It burns at my sinuses. My eyes are watering and red. Red. Red. Red.

Won't be able to tell if I'm bleeding once I'm done with this. 

Good thing about crimson dye is that you don't need platinum hair. A few levels brighter and I'm set. Full-head bleaching is still a pain. 

The box lies on its side, torn asunder. I should've prepared a bowl for this. Fuck that, I'll just squeeze it from the tube. Fingers don't move correctly. How long have I been stuck here? Sink is ruined. Hair... silky smooth? Is there still bleach in there? Wash it off more. Must've spent an hour in the shower. This is why I prefer to use baking soda to clean stuff. 

Why am I bleaching myself now?

Do I think it'll make me any cleaner? Of course not.

Hurts to comb my hair. I let it air dry a bit, then blast it with the hairdryer. Highest setting. It burns. If a hairstylist saw me do this they'd have a stroke. 

Squeeze the red onto my hair. Probably eats into my scalp. I don't have to know. Just distribute it evenly. Rest. Clean up. Rest again. I want to fall asleep - it's always in the middle of the day when I get the urge. At night I'm wide awake. At night I think clearly enough. Yet in my delirium I'd end up spilling everything I know.

Unfair exchanges. Ha. It's always been like this.

God, I might be drunk from the vapours.

Knock at the door. I sit up from the toilet - it's my chair. No more space for an actual chair. 

If I'm quiet and if Pancake knows to be quiet, they'll think I'm not home. 

Another knock. Argh. I cover my ears. 

"Zeph?" 

Koriol. Right, he was coming over today, wasn't he? Forgot. Lost track of time. 

Put my hood over my head. Wince. I'll wash it later. Leave the bathroom. Open the front door. Blonde man, green eyes, brown coat and violin case. I nod and step aside. He looks bewildered, but he comes in. Close the door. Lock. He places down his violin case in the quickest yet gentlest way possible - slides it onto the table and his hands move to my hood. Too slow to stop him. Too tired. Too delirious. I'm not usually like this. Something's wrong with me.

"Are you... Bleeding?" He holds my face in his hands now. They're warm. I flinch when his fingers ghost over my hair. 

"I'm dyeing."

A flash of worry crosses his constant smile and he leans in. "It doesn't smell like blood." What the fuck, Koriol. "...Oh. Dye? Like, hair dye?"

Try to nod. Hurts. "...Yes."

"Oh my goodness, you could've asked me to help or something." I look away. "Zeph, it's been a while since I last saw you but it's like years have passed since then."

"Cha cha, very smooth-"

Koriol's face reddens. Anger? Something else? "No, like, you're drastically different. Worse for wear. Like you've been through a war or something."

Could I really call it that? It was very one sided. We decimated that town. "Oh."

"Don't just 'oh' me, something clearly happened, did it not?"

"...Sure."

"Okay, well, first of all how long has the dye been there?" I shrug. Koriol purses his lips and grabs my hand. Pulls me to the bathroom sink and washes the dye off. I close my eyes. "Tell me if it hurts. Or like, pat my hand or something."

Does it hurt? I can't tell. It just tingles now. Koriol treats me like porcelain right now. How demeaning. But I still feel like I'm going to shatter if he's any less careful. It's all a blur, a fever dream, feels like I've blacked out and suddenly I'm sat down by the window wide open. Is he going to kill me? Push me from who knows how many floors up? No one would suspect a thing. Jacob'll make sure of that. These two are working together, I'm sure of it-

Fingers gently comb through my hair. "I'm not blow-drying it. That'll just kill your hair at this point."

I sigh and close my eyes again. Sit back. Try to think of something else - something other than the way Koriol carefully and meticulously works through all the tangles. How does he know anything about hair? ...He's got nice hair. I remember that much.

"Oh. Also, uh... Sorry. I should've asked if I could do this first."

I hum. Doesn't matter. It's always easier to ask forgiveness, isn't it. 

There's still a dull pain at the back of my head. I still smell the bleach. I probably smell horrible. Why is he still here? Why does he stay? Why does he refuse to admit that I'm just not a good person to hang around in general? Why would he take all this time out of his day to-

Something cold touches my hand. Harmonica. 

"Thought you could use a distraction."

That I do. ...Man.

He knows too much.

Pancake lies down right at my feet. 

"Didn't know you had a dog."

"Now you do."

"You're right. What's their name?"

"Pancake." Their ears perk up. "A rescue."

"Huh." Hands card gently through my hair and I jolt away. It stings. "Sorry." My eyes sting too. I'm sorry too.

When can I stop bottling it up? When can I finally tell him? He's going to ask so many questions. He'll probably berate me for not stepping away sooner. He'll point out all my mistakes - all the ones I'm aware of, all the ones I'm not. And I can't do anything about it because it's the plain old truth. I hate this. I feel like a horrible person - I am a horrible person. I'm fucking selfish. I think about what not to do and do that exact thing because I'm reckless and no amount of logic will overcome it. I just wanted something to look forward to. I swear I tried my best to keep myself as intact as I could. I wanted to live. I had to live. I'm trying. I've learned. I've realized. Can't change the past but it's not like I want to repeat it either. There are so many things he has to know - he thinks I'd hate him if I really knew him but that's the thing - I already hate myself, there's no room to really hate anyone else.

It's tiring.

I'm tired, Koriol.

"So am I," he whispers.

The sky is darker now. Afterglow of a sunset. This debacle took a day. He holds up a mirror. Crimson. Full head of crimson hair. Part of me missed this. Nostalgic. First time I ever ran. Maybe I'm running again. Is that bad?

I vaguely recall saying a lot of things. My throat is dry. Get a glass of water from the sink. Koriol stops me and tells me to boil it first. Where was he from, again? Taps in Canada are generally safe. ...Though I do usually use the kettle. I'm too lazy this time around. Without breaking eye contact I light a piece of paper on fire and hold it under the glass. It slips from my fingers. Shatters. Water everywhere. Douses the flame. I pass out. Haven't eaten in a while, I guess. Couldn't sleep well either.

I dream of skinwalkers. I dream of fire melting skin and only skin itself. Everything else is wrong. It's all so, so wrong. 

Wake up. Sky is dark outside. I'm on the couch. Pancake is curled up on top of my stomach. Noises from the kitchen. Glass of water and plates of food on the coffee table. Dim light so I wasn't immediately blinded. Shards have been cleaned. Why?

Why are you doing so much for me?

I'm a murderer.

...And you, as well.

Birds of a feather, aren't we. What a joke. I've never believed in that stuff. 

Here we are, anyway, sitting at the coffee table. The food was good. I'll clean it later. Insisted on it. Koriol has done enough.

My computer takes up some space. We're watching a movie. Pancake has moved to sleep on my bed. Fine. 

I shiver. Get up to find a blanket. Curl up. He laughs.

"Bird burrito."

Can't find the energy to respond so I stare at the screen. 

My eyes drift to Koriol every now and then, anyway. He looks very focused on the movie.

Can't wait to hear his thoughts on it. A good debate afterwards would be nice. He's passionate. A talker. I like people who have a passion - it's almost like they're glowing. Ever so curious about the world. Wish I could say the same for myself. Or maybe not. I don't know.

At some point my hands brush against his when I get up to refill some water. Cold. I offer to share the blanket when I return. He doesn't object.

Can't remember what the movie was.

All I know is warmth.

What value lies in the remains of a firestorm?

The memories. The flame has traveled far and wide, and leaves behind a mark in their wake. They have illuminated the world, if only for a brief glimpse, trailing along with none a goal but to "live". In that process they pass on the torch. They live through those cursed to remain and remember. They live vicariously and it's the brightest they have shone - their life so unremarkable, yet their legacy too devastating to leave behind. The cycle continues.

The emotions. Anger is what marks his name, etched into nightmares of the west wind. It comes from the soul, the bottom of his heart, to all those willing to ask and listen. He's tried to speak, he's tried to sing, he's tried to tell people that arguing is just a waste of time for those who demand the last laugh. He gets swept up in the storm and thus opts to walk away instead. People disappoint him. The one who matters ends up taking all the blame.

The promises. That's all he ever was. That's all he's ever lived for. He has to stay alive if only to keep his end of a deal. At times he wonders if he really gave himself a choice, but he's terrified of the answer so he shuts his thoughts away. Turns his head from the ruins of the blaze. His truths come out with his oaths because he bares his heart to express the few things he wants. Now he's inadvertently shackled them with his obsessions.

Zephyren never needed value.

He just n-n-nn-ne needed, n no, ww w wanted a

.

.

.

Entry 1. After the clown and the guy that shot their back.

Saw Caliose recently. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? Hezalea said so herself. I'll look into this. Might be interesting. Faked her death, maybe? It doesn't seem like she's hurting anyone. Just hangs out with this one guy more than usual.

Entry 2. After the fiesta fiasco.

At this point I'm sure it's not her. Not sure how it happened but it doesn't hurt to find out. She seems... like a husk of sorts. Yet, she's getting better at being her, in some ways. God, I feel like a creep just tailing this girl but can't I just solve a good mystery for once? Also, Saffr Zephyren is onto me. I think. But then he started talking about favours and whatnot and how I won't get closer to Caliose just because I'm near him? I mean, I know that. I wouldn’t expect anything from anyone. It's also a bit awkward because I've never really spoken to this guy before, let alone one-on-one. We’re definitely on varied wavelengths. Same friend group, different topics of discussion. Oh. And I guess we're eating Pho now.

Entry 3. After the dinosaurs and delirium.

Zeph’s been avoiding Caliose - and probably for good reason. I can tell that much. It never feels good to see two friends essentially drift apart though. I thought they were close. A nagging feeling tells me they were so much more, but their gazes never really aligned, did they. He doesn’t look her in the eye. It’s messed up. How is Zeph coping with this? Which version of her is he really friends with, anyway? Wish I could ask. Instead we just meet up and he asks me for help with designing some part of a glyph. I’ve watched The Owl House, I know how those work. Lylith does have some strange books at home but I won’t base it too much on existing occult stuff. My sister loves collecting that stuff.

Entry 4. After the tale and the blood.

We were studying. And then we weren’t. Had I always just fallen asleep like that? That can’t be. Either way it’s strange because he’d rarely just leave anyone there - he’d chide them for leaving their stuff unattended first and foremost. He diverted the topic with stargazing. …Guess he doesn’t want to talk about it.

At the end of the day I don’t know him well enough to ask anything meaningful. I…I don’t think he’d like me very much if he knew any more. I can’t just accept some whim-driven words - our friendship is at stake and I would never want to see it die before it starts. Please. 

Entry 5. After the clone and the mouse.

He needs to understand first. He looks up to me - well, he is shorter than me - but he doesn’t realize that I’m far from a good person. Zeph talks about promises and doing the right thing all the time, but I doubt a majority of my decisions back then were right, nor did I even think about the consequences of shirking my promises. In my efforts to minimize pain, I realized I was just doing it for the sake of my ability to fall asleep each night. For the longest time I’ve run from my problems, but they always manage to catch up and claw at me. Why is he even asking whether I’ve done anything horrible? He seems to know the answer already. Why does he still stick around, then?

I have too many things to worry about right now. Hezalea refuses to tell me anything and the people around me are all slowly changing. Did I mention how Luciole vanished for a month? The studio class isn’t big - it’s easy to notice when one person out of the dozen of us has gone MIA. In my spare time I’ve taken up the violin. It calms my nerves just a little.

Entry 6. After the feast.

I wonder if shapeshifters and skinwalkers really exist. “Caliose” strives blindly for a goal she doesn’t believe in, and I start to wonder why she does that in the first place. She could live peacefully on her own. She has identity cards, documentation, all the nitty gritty information one needs to prove their own existence. Though I guess I understand how painful it might be to live without a direction, but sometimes you just have to live in the present instead. Don’t think about what you’ll do in 20 years. Focus on what you’re doing now and whether you want to keep doing this. I just… don’t understand why Zephyren won’t let go if he already knows she isn’t the real Caliose. He loved her a lot - it’s obvious now, but this reads more as obsession, and I can’t let him get any closer if that’s the fate that awaits us too. With how easily he backs down, he’d doom us.

My sketchbook is filled with drawings of wings and fire and mythical birds nowadays. Been trying to think of a good birthday gift - as much as I keep talking about distance, I still do want to give him something. At the end of it all he’s still a good friend.

Entry 7. After the late-night games.

Why is he so surprised to find out people do care about his day? I know he’s always been guarded - in fact I understand how it feels - but isn’t it a common courtesy to ask what he’s been up to? Of course I know he’s doing some under-the-table stuff outside of school, but he ought to be better at relieving suspicion. Come on, get better at hiding your expressions when someone talks about the Trump assassination. While most people would react to that news in some way, your reaction just screams “oops”. Though, for once I don’t want to pry into what he’s been so desperate to hide. It’s very unlike me, isn’t it? I don’t know when that changed. I don’t know how much I’ve changed. Hezalea refuses to tell me. In fact she’s planning to move elsewhere. There’s no problem with that, I just get the sinking feeling that she’s going to jump headfirst into situations again and end up in even worse circumstances.

How well do I know myself? How well do I know my friends in comparison? Did I even realize I was putting up a mask in front of Zeph? Well, part of me was quite aware, but I didn’t know it was that bad. Maybe, just maybe part of the culpability fell on me for not being more honest. But that’s for the best- stop that. I probably started pointing out his flaws just so less attention would fall on me. This stuff is a two-way street. Surprise, surprise. I’ll tell him soon. I swear.

He likes the gift. I’m happy.

Entry 8. After the purge.

Had originally scheduled a jamming session, but the moment Zeph opened the door I knew something was up. His hair was matted on his face, and as I pulled back the hood I nearly fainted at the sight of what I thought were bloody entrails of- anyway. He didn’t look great - I mean, he’s cool and cute and all but I meant ‘not great’ as in extremely under the weather. I’m afraid all his hair will just fall off if I don’t untangle it strand by strand. I’m afraid I’ll hurt him somehow. Am I even supposed to be doing this? It seems way too intimate - wouldn’t his parents be a better option? Does he have parents? God, I don’t even know what his home life is like. He never talks about his past. I guess… I’ve never really done that, either.

Zeph’s music is… melancholy, but strong. The way different people play the same song says a lot about them. I can’t really explain why, but there’s still a level of restraint that he holds towards himself as he plays. The strongest beats could be so much stronger if he stopped burdening himself with the fear of messing up. Things happen. What’s the point if you don’t do enough to even give yourself the chance to make mistakes and learn? He stops playing and he looks at me. Flinches because the movement jostles his hair. We share eye contact through a mirror instead. He speaks to me.

He often goes on… jobs.

He meets all kinds of people there. They all find a way to get on his nerves but somehow he’s still the least agitated person there.

He gets into situations. He swears he never wanted to. He knows he’s implicit in the murders anyway.

There is a man named Jacob Cruz. I’ve heard of him - I’ve seen the news. Zephyren is hesitant to speak of him. Did he hurt him? No, that is not a look of spite or pain. He simply isn’t sure what he thinks of the man anymore. I don’t really understand it, but maybe he’ll tell me more about it later on. All I can say is, I envy him. I wonder what side of Zephyren he gets to see. I wonder how much of Zeph's hurt and happiness stems from him. God, why am I beefing with a stranger?

In return I tell him about myself. I’ve never killed a person with my own hands but I might as well have, having been the brains behind it all. I didn’t choose to be in that position either - if I had a choice between that life and this one, the answer is obvious.

He gets up to drink some water, and ends up doing a cool little magic trick before the glass falls to the floor. What was that about? I’ll ask him to do the trick again later, that was pretty interesting. Or… I can figure out the trick myself and surprise him with it next time.

Zephyren’s state of mind is too fragile to handle with my bare hands. He passes out and I hardly know what to do besides basic first aid. I’m terrified. It seems like exhaustion, but what if it’s more than that. Well… he did say he was tired. I bring him to the couch and Pancake keeps him company. Maybe he’s hungry? I’ll make some food. I wonder if he’s good at cooking too. I would’ve wanted to cook together, but that’ll be for another time. It’s past sunset now.

We watch a movie. I glue my eyes to the screen. Why don’t I want him to catch me staring? Why is it so wrong to look at him? I’ll think about that later.

For now, it’s warm, and that’s enough for me.

Entry 9. Before the last light.

He asked me to look after Pancake for a bit. Said it shouldn’t be for longer than a week. Signs say he’s headed for another job, but I really hope not. Maybe he’s just going on a roadtrip with a friend. Maybe it’s a department-wide outing. Maybe he’s visiting family. Every time I see the nametag on the collar, his name catches my eye. I should tell him before I can’t.

.

.

.

Hey, Caliose?

Hm?

I... I lived. I tried, anyway.

You did.

I'm sorry I couldn't live a little longer-

Don't say that, it's not always in your control. 

I- ...right.

You did a lot better than I have.

Damnit...

Zephyren, it was never meant to be an obligation. Just a request.

Your little 'request' fucks people up, y'know.

I know that now.

Were you watching?

It's not my place to.

Did you know all along anyway?

Know what?

That I'd keep going just because you told me to.

No.

Then why did you say it?

I didn't know what else I could do. How much is an 18 year old orphan supposed to know?

18? Aren't you, like, 20 now?

Zeph, tell me where we are.

...No.

Zeph.

There's no way.

Zephyren, I never left Japan. You have to know this.

I- I didn't-

I never had the chance to. I tried to say goodbye to her. I should've known why she was so against it in the first place.

Caliose, I- oh my god... 

Did... did you not know?

I swear I did. I don't know why I stuck around her for so long. I promise I never crossed any lines I wouldn't ever do that I'm just stupid I swear. The only time I did anything remotely 'intimate' was with a coworker to divert some thugs' attention but even then I didn't-

Zephyren. Zephyren Sangris.

The doppelganger fucking insisted on taking the same last name too-

I believe you.

Everyone in my life just kept lying to me, I was afraid even Koriol would leave and turn out to be a skinwalker someday-

You're safe now.

I don't know if I can ever fall asleep again.

You won't need to.

...What?

You're dead.

I... I know that. But I have to go back-

Rest.

Jacob's gonna do something stupid again-

Then let him. People do stupid things all the time.

I can't just let him throw away everything I've tried to tell him-

I'm sure he remembers. All you can do is trust him.

I don't- I can't- I don't want to, Caliose. I can't do it. I can't keep letting people just step all over the promises I try to make because it's more convenient for them. I hate it. I hate it so much why did it have to be me. It didn't have to be me. I wish it were-

You don't wish that.

Try me-

You don't want that. You're not that kind of person.

THEN WHAT THE FUCK AM I, CALIOSE?!

You're kind.

I'm weak.

Are you really still letting that archaic mentality get to you?

It's just a fact.

You were the strongest person there, and I know it.

How would you know? You've never cared to look.

I trust you.

You shouldn't have. I hung out with your doppelganger for who knows how long.

Because you cared about me. You couldn't let go of the small chance that it really was me.

You don't know that.

I believe it anyway.

This is why you're dead.

...

...I am... so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it.

I mean... you're not wrong.

Sometimes the truth is better left unsaid.

I'd rather you be honest anyway.

...Fuck.

You're Zephyren, and Zephyren doesn't wish death upon people this easily.

I hated it... I hated it so much, Caliose. I'd really rather just be dead than have to be the mediator. I did one hell of a job too. I tried to take a more active role but their voice grated at my ears. Even when I'm not the problem I end up getting yelled at anyway I hate it. For once Jacob didn't do anything bad - he was just hounded on because he was the one who happened to kill those exploding creatures. So of course I'd try to defend a friend. But no. 

It's so frustrating. It's unfair. I know damn well I tried much harder to do so much more and the one time I actually have the courage to step up it turns out I've made a grave mistake.

People don't hear me when I initially speak and my confidence dwindles and then I let opportunities slip my grasp. All my plans have gone awry and this is how the world repays me when I stop being a 'coward'. I've said it before. There's a difference between bravery and needless self destruction. I... I thought I stood a chance there. I shouldn't have.

The others try to apply human logic to everything but sometimes things are just out of our understanding. And when I try to point it out I get shot down. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. I'm tired of it, Caliose, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for what I do and what I don't do, I'm tired of being told I'm wrong for being born this way and raised this way.

I don't want to play this game anymore. I just want to go back and tell the idiots I'm alive and laugh it off and just live the life that I was meant to live. I don't think I was ever meant for those jobs. I was never ambitious enough to change the world. I just... want to make something I could call my home. I wanted to stay. And now I've been left behind.

...You... did your best.

They drag me along and call me a bad person because of it. They try to dictate what I should and shouldn't do and it gets so annoying. I never wanted to be a bad person. Please. I just want to work with people like Jacob and Lily and Charlotte and HND-E and Oggi again. They knew what it meant to work together.

I want to see Koriol. I want to go back. Things weren't the best but I was never discontent, especially not in those last few months. I tried to live. I did what I wanted to do. I'm devastated that Pancake just keeps losing their owners. Of all the people who know what happened, Jacob's the only one who'd feel anything about it and I'm terrified of what he'll do because of it.

I don't know what to say about that. I guess... people move on. If that makes you feel better.

Not really.

You don't want them to move on?

If they did that so easily, then... what did I ever mean to them?

Oh dear.

...Y'know, when the Harbingers first asked what I wanted to become, I answered, "A phoenix."

That's fun.

I didn't think much of it, but somewhere along the way it seemed so achievable.

It is achievable, isn't it?

I...I don't know.

I wouldn't know either.

I wish you could've been there to see it. I could shoot firebirds from my palms.

I can imagine.

Caliose, did I live well enough?

That's for you to decide. Were you happy?

I was happy, if only for a few moments.

I'm glad. Maybe that's good enough.

I don't know. Some part of me has always wanted more. I realize that now.

Then strive for it.

I'm dead.

And so am I.

That... doesn't really mean much, does it? You're still here.

That's up for debate.

What's that supposed to mean?

No one really knows what happens in the afterlife. For all you know, you're just talking to an idea of me.

Don't do this to me, Caliose. Not again.

It's not for nothing. I guess you just... needed some form of closure with me. 

I don't want to be alone. But I don't want to live for the sake of other people again.

What's so wrong with that?

They make me do stupid things- well, they don't tell me to, but inevitably I want to do so much more for them. In a way this is why I stayed and fought too. If I didn't know anyone in that group too well I'd just run as fast as I could. Get the flying creatures. Forget Wells' animal mind control, I can talk to them too... probably. Just... anything to keep myself alive a little longer.

Would you forgive yourself if you did that this time?

...If Jacob died? Never.

There you go.

I guess... I've just never wanted to lump myself in with other people. Thought all I wanted was to do everything for myself. By myself.

You've always been a ball of contradictions. Everyone is.

You're right.

Do you believe in fate?

I don't know, but there sure are a lot of strange coincidences.

There are. And they'll only happen if you never stop moving forward.

You're cursing me again.

Because you want to be.

You've got me there. What happens if I can't find anything after a thousand years?

Your brain would probably be too eroded to think anything of it at all.

That's hardly comforting.

You wouldn't know by then.

That's how the bird flies, I guess.

Yep.

...Hey.

Yeah?

In the end... was I a firebird or a phoenix?

Would you care for my answer?

I'll take anything I get.

You wanted to be a phoenix. So, you're a phoenix.

Just because I wanted to be?

There's nothing stopping you from wanting.

Is there, now?

You'll always be what you make of yourself. Not what others say about you, not what people define a 'firebird' or a 'phoenix'.

Doesn't change the fact that I've had very bad luck this whole time.

Well, firebirds tend to give bad luck to the people around them.

I'd say they were pretty unlucky too.

They were lucky to have met you.

Not all of them.

You keep dwelling on whether people like you and listen to you, but all this time you still haven't acknowledged them.

What?

The words of those you love.

...Ah.

They think you matter. They think they were lucky to have met you. Isn't that enough?

...Yeah. Yeah. You're right, Caliose. Thank you.