Chapter 7

Outside the base, Ayaan clasps Yachi’s hands. He tries so desperately to memorise the lines on Yachi’s face that he fails utterly – he feels like he is trying to climb up a smooth wall, scrabbling to find a groove. “Is the wheelchair comfortable?”

“I could sleep in it.” They pat one of the padded arms. “I hope you did not get in trouble for taking another vehicle to bring this thing here from the shop?”

“I asked in advance this time.”

“I wish you a safe journey,” says Yachi.

He takes the time to mourn the things he and Yachi will not talk about, the mornings they will not share. It feels as though he has known Yachi for years and yet not known them nearly long enough. “Are you certain you don’t want to come?”

Yachi averts their eyes. They say softly, “I am certain I don’t want to leave.”

“Not the same thing.” It comes out more mournful than he intended, but he does not take it back.

“Your friend – are you two arguing?”

“We are not arguing.”

“Ah. So you are not speaking.”

“Am I doing that bad a job at concealing what I am thinking?”

Yachi’s hands tighten around Ayaan’s. “You told me he has saved your life before – you are dear to him.”

Ayaan does not mean to allow bitterness to seep into his smile. “Am I?”

“I am not the one you should be asking.”

Ayaan blinks to banish the sting in his eyes. He looks at the hills. He cannot understand why he found them unfriendly. They appear calm now, restful in their home, unmindful of the ship that has parked itself by their territory and is firing its engines to leave.

“I am going to miss you, Ayaan. You will return, yes?”

“I will do everything within my power to, but I can’t promise you I won’t come knocking at your greenhouse with grey hair and a cane. Stop laughing, I’m not exaggerating.”

Yachi smiles. “I’ll be waiting,” they say.