“And that’s why kids are a deal breaker.”

“Please,” Sao sighed. A family seated nearby was shooting them looks. “There’s no way Karik wanted to lose his mother, or even Plato. He didn’t know what was happening.”

Under a formation of metal branching light fixtures, at the same sleek table where Sao had met Umbre, they waited for their dinner. After a weekend of radio silence, on Monday they were asked to provide statements to HQ and finally dropped into the office in the afternoon, not sure what to do with themselves. Sao had made the suggestion. They were several hours early for dinner, but there was a soft rabble of conversation around them, some of it from children. Families.

“That’s the point. A kid, especially one with his developmental issues, can’t understand what it means to be betrayed, to be afraid of your own heart condition, or that there are situations in which too much noise at the wrong time can be enough to drive a person to kill.” Rai grasped at his own knuckles over the table. “It’s hard enough for people like us to understand. We suspected revenge, but how could we know it was just a stressed nurse kicked one too many times?” He frowned. “Still, Karik should never have been there.”

“Art wasn’t going to leave him alone, though, was she?”

“That’s the problem.” Rai bristled up again. “Kids shouldn’t be anywhere near a family killer, he shouldn’t have been forced to see his comatose grandpa every day either. But he just had to be dragged along, got his hand cut and almost got drugged--”

Sao’s smile faltered at that.

“-- and still doesn’t understand any of the implications. That’s why Plato felt guilty, Karik was so happy to see him in spite of everything.” Rai’s hands curled around his glass. “Or maybe he was just afraid the noise was going to overwhelm him again. We can’t know for sure because of course, Plato can’t talk right now. Who knows, maybe he was possessed by the soul of an angry patient at the last minute.”

“Maybe.”

Rai continued, “the psychologists are having a look at Karik. He was asking for his mom and dad, still. Asked for Plato, too.”

“But Plato and Art are alive.”

“Yes. As much as anyone Trae smokes out can be considered ‘alive.’”

Sao recalled the sleeping bodies of Art and Plato, now lying in separate rooms, still breathing, hearts beating, but grey as stones.

Rai must have seen his face drop. “It’s not that bad. The doctors got there quick and Art wasn’t exactly hurt. She was actually pretty calm at the end, except for the moments directly before… you know. And Plato is stable. They’re already getting better. That’s real LF aura for you. That’s why Cad keeps Trae around.”

“The fabled Trae. He’s quite a character.” Sao recalled the enormous Life Fountain’s cosmic grin after the ordeal, how Cadmus had patted him like a child and sent him off with a new robe and a bag of chips. Trae couldn’t have been happier. He ran off, wreathed in smoke. Cadmus proceeded to give Rai a piece of his mind. “That black stuff he breathes, that’s his aura?”

“That it is.” Rai’s hands flickered with his own aura, catching the attention of the table across from them. "He’a actually one of the greatest there is in that department."

"Right," Sao said, smiling. "He's a friend of yours."

"A family friend. The harebrained cousin who's always miles ahead, by barely lifting a finger he outclasses me ten times over. In terms of being a Life Fountain, how could I even compete? We know each other through Cadmus and his Life Fountain support network, which is better than nothing. The network's really for ones like Trae. Help them learn to be 'normal', for better or worse."

"Oh, I think he seemed alright, very laid back. Abnormally so, maybe, but abnormality has its charms..."

"But that's you talking." Rai sipped his iced water. "However you look at Trae, his smoke aura is no joke. It can freeze the dying in their tracks, but it can also take hold of the living and the effects can get ugly if he doesn't control himself. A great equalizer - everyone becomes a grey half-corpse." Seeing Sao's face, he grinned. "And the draining of color is the mildest thing about it. What he gave that hospital room was a relatively light dose, too. I'm alright, think of it as a genetic immunity, but don’t egg him on too much, or it'll be a while until you're yourself again. Hence the hazmat."

"And here I was thinking you were trying to get me in that coat so my phobia wouldn't bother anybody."

"Do you think it helped?"

"To be honest it did take my mind off skin contact, but I was preoccupied with a few other things as a result. Such as what people would say about me being dressed like pest control." Sao swirled the ice in his cup. He thought about the couch.

A waiter glided to their table with a large metal tray. "Your roast duck pizza."

The pie glistened with sauces. Rai forked himself a thin slice and appraised it like something that was unearthed from a mine.

“Unusual combination, isn’t it?” Sao helped himself. “But it’s very good. Speaking of abnormal charms...”

“It’s… brown, it’s like skin. There’s so much fat, is that intentional?” Rai sawed at the crisped fat layer with no intention of stopping, regardless of the answer. He pushed the small brown strip to the edge of his plate where it wrinkled sadly. “I’m not sure I can eat this.”

“I said the same about your toppings of choice. Give it a try.” The family at the next table were definitely giving them looks now. “You can always order a salad.”

While Rai dissected, Sao turned his full attention to his own meal. Once he had cleaned up every drop of cheese and cucumber on his plate, he raised his head to check the damage. Rai was twiddling with napkin and tried not to meet his eyes. His plate conspicuously empty as well.

“You know, there’s a condition that makes people sensitive to noise,” Rai said.

“Tinnitus?”

“That’s a symptom, or a result of overloud noises. A couple years back, my ex-neighbors claimed that I gave their oldest son tinnitus. Doctors proved them wrong. I just wonder,” Rai mused, “what other conditions exist. Maybe Plato, or even Karik...”

“If Plato gets taken to trial, his ears could be tested. But from what he told you, I’m not sure it’s so simple. He happened to be under a great amount of stress the very moment the Flemings released all of theirs. An emotional state could make a person sensitive to any number of things.”

“Guess so.”

“There isn’t much anyone can do to prepare for it. You can take care of yourself, meditate and train, but you’re always at the mercy of those around you to some extent. Uncontrollable factors. There is no bubble safe enough. And if you’ve never snapped before, how can you know what’s to come? As for the Flemings...” He had been trying not to consider them. “We would need to go back several generations to turn them around. They were naturally noisy, they could harm but they never wanted to kill - and they didn’t. It’s just unfortunate that a happy time for them turned into the worst of the worst for somebody else.”

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s any suggestion that would let Plato walk away from this - he killed two and contributed to the deaths of two others. More than one of his victims were kids.” Rai shook his head. “I’m re-assessing myself, then. I’m also naturally noisy.”

Sao took a slow sip of water and did not instantly affirm Rai’s claim. “You tend to be stressed.”

“Maybe. I just hope I don’t drive anyone to murder.”

“No need to look at me.”

“Yeah, you’re something else. You know, I kind of liked Plato in the end. He was… interesting.” Rai looked out the wall of window beside their table. The sun was still hanging in there, and grass was beginning to peek out on the lawn after the first full day without snowfall. “‘You had to be there’.”

“Right.”

“Thinking back, I don’t think he ever said those words. He just told me I didn’t understand, which is true enough. But he didn’t want me or anyone else to have to be there - to be in his place, to see the last of your family slip away while another, seven-strong, flourishes right next to you. To ruin any idea of happiness. And that’s...”

“Compassion.”

“It’s interesting.” Rai gulped water.

As he cut his teeth on ice cubes, Sao helped himself to another slice of pizza.

“So how was the couch?”

Sao bit his cheek and winced. “What couch?”

“The couch in the office that you tried out? You seemed pretty happy with it on Friday night.”

“And what a night.” Sao feigned collapse. “Another near-blackout phase of my life, just when I thought I didn’t need any more of those. I can’t believe I forgot such a basic rule: never take candy from strangers.”

“The stranger was twelve and had no clue. Don’t worry about it, you didn’t say anything too crazy while you were high.”

“I wouldn’t know. I deserve whatever I got and you were far more understanding than you ever needed to be. I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundaries during that time, I really am.”

Rai’s look was questioning if he was out of his mind again. “It’s not my boundaries that I worry about.”

“Thanks. Again.” Sao thumbed through the menu, his mouth dry. Peanut butter popcorn shakes. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“You’re not getting out of this yet. The couch.”

“Right, right. Look, I don’t care what happened to me, but going haywire at the office...” Sao shuddered, and propped his head on his palm. “As for the couch. Well, that was one bright spot in an otherwise hazy night. I remember thinking it was decent. More than decent, perhaps as comfortable as my own.”

Rai made something that could have been construed as a pleasant look.

“The pests, though...”

“The pests are gone.”

“They’re dead, but they aren’t gone.” Sao hesitated, hating the romanticism. “The gas kills them where they are. Their little beetle bodies and eggs are still in the covers and the stuffing.”

“I’ll air the pillows and get a new cover then. Fine, or I can just get a completely new sofa.”

“I- that would be a shame. I think a new cover will do the trick.”

Rai started to mutilate another piece of duck pizza. “It only cost two hundred. I got what I paid for, though pest control was about four times that. As you can tell, I’m not great with interior design. I’ve just been wanting to change things up...”

Picturing his television, still sitting at an awkward slant, Sao said, “I’m afraid I can’t be much help.”

“You’ve gotta have some kind of suggestion. It’s something you’re going to forced to live with, too. I mean, on workdays.” Rai sighed. “I wish I could afford a couch like yours.”

“I didn’t buy mine. I’m not sure the office has space for that, either.” Sao thought of his snowy white lounger. Definitely not a good fit for the office. But the rejection had Rai downcast - had he chosen a white couch in hopes of replicating it? No wonder it had felt like home. Sao grinned. “Bugs aside, the one you’ve got is just fine. As for new additions, your place is mostly light wood. So you should go for something rustic. Some dark oak or walnut, a two-seater would probably fit. With brighter cushions, red maybe since all the chairs in there are already dark--”

“I knew it.” Rai pointed his fork at Sao’s nose. “You do have suggestions. And it sounds like you want the Flemings’ couch.”

“Who wouldn’t? You saw it. Chocolate and red velvet, pillows so deep you could swim in them. I know, you can add in the carpet and statues you were looking at, and we’d have a set going.”

“I’d buy the whole damn house if I could. Problem is, I can’t afford any of it.” Rai chewed wistfully on some pizza crust. “The property and all assets are Karik’s inheritance now, huh? The cars, furniture, houses, companies… who knows what else. Art’s technically still there, so I guess he’ll have some time to prepare, but with nobody else in his generation… it’s coming down to him. All of it.”

“All of it,” Sao said, unfolding the list in his mind. It wasn’t as dreamy as it had been before. He remembered Umbre saying their wealth wasn’t what it seemed, Art saying the money was gone. It would cost a fortune to maintain what was left. Gardeners, cleaners, then the hospital bills. Already, the perfection of the snow-covered family home was slipping away from him. It wasn’t like the mansion of his childhood after all. Or he was simply too old to form memories with such dreamlike power? It was all bills, maintenance and murder. His inner child would weep, if only he could locate it.

Sao squeezed his imagination one last time. “I wonder what it will look like once the snow is gone?”

“Still nice, I bet.” Rai’s eyes wandered to the window again. “Well, there’s a hint.” Sao turned too.

The gazebo, designed by Shadow Works, stood at the edge of the restaurant lawn. The staff had dusted the thatched roof off and placed spring flowers around fencing. Strings of lights were hanging from the rafters, small bulbs glittering in streams like the tails of stars.

“Hope Karik’s doing okay,” Rai said, dragging the last slice of pizza off the tray.

It was late to be hoping, but Sao replied, “I hope so too.”