Sao was deposited at the guardhouse by his estate of glassy apartment buildings. The rose bushes that lined the outer gate were in full bloom, petals like soft cream. While it paled in comparison to Bell’s decadent tunnels of greenery, there was always some sort of flower flourishing along the base of the estate walls and walkways, no matter the season. He supposed that management periodically replaced them (they certainly had the funds). With some sadness he admired the fluffed blossoms, and pondered the fate of the old crop. Thoughts wandered to the sunset bouquet on the Joys' counter. He lamented its fate as well and wondered, futilely, if there was any way he could help.

“Wings of Steel is far from his best,” Rai was saying from the parked car.

“I’m sorry?”

“You asked me for an opinion earlier today. I take it that means you watched it - did you know it’s kind of a biopic? It’s based on the memoirs of a real, old military spy, which is what makes it funny in how nonsensical it all is. But then, the guy was drunk as a skunk when he wrote it; never had a single day sober post-retirement. He eventually got thrown in prison for stabbing a pharmacist. Some of the jokes are breathtakingly bad.” Rai slouched over the steering wheel. “Fans call it avant-garde humor, I guess I can understand that. Still don’t think anyone would call Wings a career high for Lady Kir, or Sigma. Of course, I’m not the most familiar with Sigma’s body of work.”

“Me neither. I’ve been trying to remedy that.”

“Not to be a downer about Sigma the actor,” Rai said, his voice low as if Sigma were listening in, “but meeting the guy hasn’t exactly turned around my impressions of him. He seems like a great guy when you talk to him, but when you think back after the fact, the guy just feels hollow.”

“Really?” Sao faced Rai down, searching for that instigating smirk, but Rai was just staring ahead. “I found him quite genuine.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what makes him charming in the moment. But once he’s out of sight, I get this vague, ugly feeling nothing I said really got through to him.” 

Sao was picturing Sigma speaking to the Bells - though he had no real idea what Sigma said to them. “The aloofness of fame? Or defensiveness of one who has trouble opening up to strangers.”

“I’m not sure it’s an act of defense. It’s like...” Rai flexed his fingers over some invisible object, knuckles crackling, neon blue. “It’s like I was trying to hold a conversation in the world of Wings of Steel. The place where the conversation happens is so far outside the natural realm that all the meaning I thought was coming out of my mouth just turns to word soup, and his words also disintegrate after I step back. The charm is just B-movie dressing to get him through the scenario. Improv or scripted, once you turn the TV off, it’s gone. Real charm sticks with you after it’s over. Real charm can also succeed at throwing off suspicion, and I gotta say, Sigma’s not quite there.”

Sao watched Rai’s fingers twitch. “That’s very poetic.”

“You don’t agree. Whatever.” Rai shook out his greasy strands. “I guess it’s easier to make a connection when you find someone relatable.”

While Rai’s attempt at abstraction had done little for Sao, that final comment stung. He wasn’t sure why. He pulled his eyes away from Rai so he could observe the sky. The star-filled night was breathtaking, iridescent and alive; the lights of Central city below couldn’t compare.

“Rai, how is it you keep yourself awake at all times?”

“I- what?” Guard down, Rai's eyes were wide for a moment, almost childlike. “I guess I just don’t go to bed. I don’t lie down or try to.”

“Ah, if only that worked for me.”

“I always have something going. When I was younger, I kept up the noise - rock music, movies, drills and drums and hammering - and the caffeine. Then it was just a matter of keeping busy, lining up projects. I don’t recommend it, though.” Rai slumped over the dashboard so he could look at the sky too. “Not only are you short of one parents' worth of LF aura, but what it really comes down to, even with that, is stress. It's not fun, but this is my way of dealing with things.”

“What are you dealing with?”

“I think you can guess.”

Sao found that he couldn’t. He was exhausted. “I’m not looking for something so extreme as never sleeping again. I’m just… brainstorming. So, how are you keeping busy tonight?”

“Finishing up those audits. I was thinking of dropping by Sigma’s therapist’s office later, since Kiria kindly dropped the address.” Bored of stargazing, Rai snuck a look at his phone. “Too late to talk to anyone, not that we have clearance to grill his therapist anyhow, but I just wanna get a look at the place, Get an idea of the locale, in case we ever have to try tracking down Sigma again.” Rai pulled his head back into the car and began winding the window up. It was an arduous process, the revolve handle didn’t seem to want to do its job. “You can check it out tomorrow. For now, get some rest in that cushy-ass apartment of yours.”

Sao smiled as the window pulled up, centimeter by centimeter, and finally closed. All he could see through the darkened glass was Rai’s hand, waving, among the reflection of millions of stars.

He watched the car amble off, closed his eyes and turned.

---

And woke with an impact to the skull.

Sao yelped and lost his footing, crashing into one of the rose bushes, outside the estate. Thank goodness their thorns had been stripped. Management really was capable of miracles.

Also miraculous, inexplicable and slightly terrifying, was Kiria positioned before him, bristling in a dark woolen jumper, her hand clutching what looked like a metal pole.

“Go home,” she said.

“I- wh- this is where I live. I was just headed - for god’s sake Kiria, why are you here?”

She shook her head, needled ponytail scraping her neck. “Please, Sao. Just turn around and go back to bed.”

Sao pushed himself up, rubbed his eyes. “That’s where I was going, before-” He stopped. His eyes felt swollen, crusted. His cheek was a plane of rough, dry skin. Did he come out this morning without making his face up first? No, he’d seen himself in the mirror of Rai’s car that day - so it must have washed off. And why was he wearing pajamas?

Sao stumbled back. This was not where Rai had seen him off. They were standing somewhere behind the estate, near the multilevel parking lot.

“Kiria, what’s happening here?”

In the dark, he couldn’t make out her expression, only her prickling silhouette, the tips of her spines drifting stiffly in some nonexistent wind. She raised the pipe and pointed him back toward the buildings. “You’re dreaming.” Her voice was shaky. “Sao, listen to me. I don’t know where you think you’re headed, but you’re dreaming and you need to go home.”

She took a step forward. The pipe glinted.

Sao zigzagged back toward the door on uneasy footing, typed the code and stumbled back into the lighted confines of the estate.

Blearily, Kiria lowered the pipe, her arm falling as she watched him go. Clasping her side, half hidden behind her waist, was a small child who may have been any age, any color, any height, in any clothing with what could have been any look on their small, indistinguishable face.