Summary: Until you are able to feel, what he gives has to be enough for you. AkuRoku

Warnings: Emotional Outbursts That Shouldn't Be Possible. :)

Pairings: AxelxRoxas

Disclaimer: ... Bah. You know. The usual.

Until You Are Able To Feel – Chapter 4

You glance at your partner, and you can't believe how good it feels to sit here with him. He plays with the straw of his drink, nervously looking around, as if he feared people would recognize him as a Nobody, a fiend, as soon as they laid eyes on him.

He looks perfectly normal, just like any teenage boy, but you refrain from telling him that. He doesn't believe you anyway. It's like he thinks there's a dark cloud looming over him that gives his true nature away.

You lean back and allow yourself a pleased smirk; just a week ago Roxas and you had a fight about how he doesn't want to spend all his time with you and shit like that; about how he doesn't want you to follow him whenever he decides to vanish for a few hours and worry you to death with his carelessness. Not that he would believe for one second that you're actually worried.

But the fight seems to have convinced him that he shouldn't run off on his own anymore. As far as you know, he always came to you and asked you to join him when he wanted to visit another world ever since then. He even apologized to you one day after the fight, and he promised he would not run off again.

It's forbidden. You are not supposed to go to other worlds, not without a mission. And he is way more important to the Organization than you are, so he's supposed to be here even less. Yet you can't not give in when he looks at you like that; faked longing etched onto his features, his trembling voice betraying his cool demeanor when he asks you to get him out of there. You obey every time. Maybe because the empty, hollow world that is your home drives you insane as well.

This time he didn't even want to just hide somewhere and watch people interact; he wanted to mingle with the crowd, try to be one of them, which is even more forbidden than leaving the World That Never Was. He doesn't get it though, anyway. He just can't get it right. Maybe because he still can't remember how to be one of them. When the waitress of the café sauntered over to your table, smiling and wishing him a marvelous day, he just stared her. You can't blame her for becoming nervous as he stared; that kid's stare is pretty unnerving. He doesn't even seem to blink, for fuck's sake! Oh, you know he does, as his glare was directed at you more than once; but you just can't see it. All you can see when he stares at you is… blue. Deep, mysterious, fucking unbelievable blue.

You, on the other hand, remember how to be charming, no problem. So you just presented the waitress your most handsome smile and a few flirtatious compliments and got yourself a free drink… You'll still have to pay for Roxas', though. Ha, not that you intended to pay at all. If it wasn't for Roxas, you would probably just set the damn café on fire and watch it burn to smithereens from the sunny beach while drinking your fruity, nutty cocktail… thing… Sweet Darkness, it even has little paper umbrellas in it…

"You're thinking of burning the café down," Roxas states, finally daring to sip on his own drink. He wrinkles his nose at the taste, shoving the glass away.

"Yep," you agree. Denying it would be pointless. Ha, you love your fiery abilities…

Well… You would love them if you…

… You're starting to sound like Roxas. Oh, great, just great.

You shake your head and roll your eyes, a bit annoyed at your own thoughts, and take a sip from your own drink. Not bad. Not good either. You can barely taste anything. It's dull, pointless. As pointless as pretended feelings and subdued pain. Why are you even here?

"You won't," he adds, a threatening undertone finding its way into his calm voice.

Right. You're here because of him. How he holds such power over you is beyond you; you should be elsewhere, instructing your minions, training, killing, whatever.

"Noooooo," you reply and glance at him again. "Hey, I know how to behave around humans."

"Really," he snorts, sounding vaguely amused. "Your usual behavior around them would be beheading them with your stupid, unhandy weapons. And then you would set them on fire."

"I'm not on a mission, kiddo, and they are not heartless. Besides, I promised I wouldn't kill anyone, so relax," you just say and grin before you suck on your straw again. Too bad the alcohol doesn't have any effect on you. "And I would set them on fire before I'd chop off their heads, thanks. What good would it be to make them burn if they can't feel it anymore?" You huff in faked annoyance. "Don't you know anything about me, Roxas? I'm hurt."

"Moron," he mutters, but you can see him smile before he lowers his head to hide it.

"At least my weapons aren't oversized keys," you retort, narrowing your eyes at him. "And my chakrams are not stupid. They are beautiful, fire-proof, deadly instruments of destruction. Better watch your tongue, if you don't want to have them slicing through your intestines."

"You just had to add the 'fire-proof', didn't you?" he sighs, but he's still smiling.

"That's a very important criterion." You take another sip, turning your head to watch the people at the beach again.

"It's not like us others' weapons would just melt away if you set them on fire," he replies bored, propping his chin in one hand.

"I'm not so sure about that. I'm just that hot."

"Axel?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you have a presence?"

You almost forget to swallow the mouthful of cocktail, and your head whips around as you stare at Roxas, who still isn't looking at you. You eventually remember to gulp the fruity beverage down, coughing as you accidentally get some of it into your windpipe.

Well, you certainly didn't see that one coming.

"The hell, Roxas?" you croak, clearing your throat and putting your drink down. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"People notice you," he explains, completely oblivious to your almost-choking. He frowns. "But you're a Nobody. They usually don't notice Nobodies. But they notice you. You have a presence. Why?"

"How the fuck would I know? What do you mean, a presence?" you ask dumbfounded. You find yourself wondering what the hell is going on in that blond little head of his.

"They're staring at you."

"They would stare at you too if you dyed your hair pink, Blondie."

"It's probably because you're so beautiful…" he exclaims thoughtfully, ignoring your objection.

You're really glad that you weren't drinking right now, or else you would probably have choked. It's hard enough to breathe as it is.

"What the fuck is up with you today?" you finally snicker, unable to contain your amusement any longer. You grin from ear to ear as you notice his expression growing more and more uncomfortable. He glances at you from the corners of his eyes.

"What's so funny?" he asks defensively, pouting when you chuckle quietly. He probably has no idea how much he looks like a human boy right now.

"You," you answer leisurely, leaning forward slightly, allowing your grin to fade into a softer smile. "Would you care to explain what the fuck you mean by that?"

You watch him fidget, bite his lip, sigh, glance up, look away. You know he can't be embarrassed – he pointed it out to you more often than you can count, but you have to think he fakes it awfully well.

Sometimes you wonder if he's a Nobody at all.

"It's just…" he starts, but interrupts himself again. Then he glances to the side, pointing somewhere. You follow his finger and meet the eyes of some girl; a petite brunette, who looks away blushing.

"She was staring at you," Roxas explains calmly, then he points somewhere else. This time you don't bother looking into the direction he's pointing; you settle on gazing at him instead, propping your chin in one hand. "She too. Oh, and she. The redhead over there too. The whole group at the table over there. Oh, and the waitress keeps glancing at you. As does the waiter." You can't help but snort amused at that. "I can't believe you didn't notice that. You're an oblivious jerk."

"Why, thank you, Roxie," you purr, smirking lazily. "So you think I'm beautiful?"

"Well, you sure fit most criteria," he replies, and by the way he furrows his brow you can tell he's changing pretending bashfulness for faking annoyance. "Except for that moronic grin. What the hell is so funny?"

"I think the term you were searching for was 'dazzling smile'," you coo and flutter your eyelids. It only aggravates him further.

"The term 'moronic grin' fits perfectly, thank you," he disagrees, and his soft, smooth voice is dripping with venom.

"Oh, you know you love me."

"No, I don't. Because I can't."

"And you know you will get your ass kicked as soon as we return."

"…Why is that?"

"Oh, I dunno… Because you deserve it?"

He blinks, puzzled; his eyes widen slightly, and the pure innocence in his look threatens to take your breath away. You know you shouldn't be affected by him like this. Maybe it's his element that gives him this aura of pureness, maybe it's his Other, Sora; whatever it is, it makes it impossible to be mad at him when he looks at you like that, questioning, confused, almost pouting; so fucking naïve.

"I didn't do anything," he says quietly, and as he leans back and crosses his arms, his lips move to form a full-fledged pout. "I was being nice to you all day. Why are you mad at me now?"

"Oh, but I can't be mad, remember?" you sneer at him, trying to resist his innocent act. For it is only an act; he's not innocent, because he is a sin against life itself. It's only fake; just like everything else in your life.

"You're not making sense, Axel," he declares and rises from his seat.

"And you're an idiot," you reply, smirking mirthlessly. And then you flinch back with a loud yelp as cold, sticky, fruity smelling liquid hits your face. That little runt just dumped his drink over your head!

"Watch what you're saying, asshole," he says calmly.

"Watch what you're doing, brat," you reply hoarsely, running a hand over your sticky, wet face. The alcohol evaporates under your gloved hands. You never notice the heat your body emits; others say your hands get scorching hot at times.

You wipe the liquid from your face, flinging it at the nearest wall with a flick of your wrist. The dry wood the bar is made out of catches fire.

You smirk, never taking your eyes off Roxas. His expression darkens, his eyes narrow, but they still stay cold. Even when the flames spread and consume the wall behind yourself too quickly to be natural, when tiny red flames start to dance in his blue eyes, even then they stay like dead.

"Stop it," he says calmly. You can't hear the words, all the other guests screeching and yelling too loudly for you to distinguish his soft voice. But you can see his lips move, and you know him all too well. He's not pleased about you breaking your promise.

"Oops," you laugh and stretch your arms upwards, feeling the flames behind you following your lead. You gracefully rise from your already burning chair, commanding the fire to circle around your tall, slender body.

Roxas seems unimpressed. He reaches out, not minding the flames licking at his clothes, and grabs the collar of your coat, forcing you down until you are at eye level. You're still smirking, but then something changes; you don't feel like grinning anymore when you realize the expression in his eyes has changed. They aren't cold anymore. They are blazing with anger. Real anger. A real emotion.

"Stop it, Axel," he hisses, barely loud enough for you to hear. "If you kill one human in here, I will personally end your non-existence."

And you don't doubt he will do just that. Right now you really believe he would be able to kill you, just because the raw emotion in his eyes would render you helpless.

You're still too stunned to react right away, but when he narrows his eyes you hurry to fight the fire around you down.

And with the flames the emotion swirling in Roxas' clear azure eyes vanishes. For a second you feel the overwhelming urge to apologize, to explain that it was supposed to be a joke, or to do something incredibly stupid, just to bring back the emotion in his eyes, but you hesitate; the guilt you're feeling is so unfamiliar, you don't know how to deal with it. Remorse about your actions is something even your Other barely felt; as a Nobody you're completely at a loss how to handle it. So you let the moment pass, and the all too familiar emptiness fills his eyes again.

He lets go of your coat and nods, pleased that he got his way. When he turns around you instinctively try to retort something snotty, but for some reason your sarcasm fails you, and you close your mouth again. You can't think of anything to say, not even when you hear him chuckle softly.

"Good boy," he mutters, and not even now you're able to tell him off, like you would do usually. It's like the flash of real emotion in a Nobody's eyes has temporarily paralyzed you. You've never felt so lost before. Not even when you lost your heart.

After an endless moment you follow Roxas outside. He's watching the still panicky crowd running around the beach, lips set in a grim line.

Once more you try to remark something sarcastic, to cover up your moment of weakness before. But again the words just die on your tongue, so you stay silent and keep watching Roxas watching scared humans.

"Why did you have to freak out like that?" Roxas whispers, and you don't know how to answer that. "Why do you always have to overdo everything like that? Why do you have to be so hot-tempered? You promised…"

"I just promised not to harm a human," you snarl, and you immediately regret that those will be the first words you tell him after you saw him express real feelings for the first time. But you have to defend yourself. You didn't break your promise, at least that's what you tell yourself. By looking at him you know he does not quite agree. You probably sound pathetic, and you hate being so defensive. "Nobody was hurt. Come on, no one is burning!" Your tone becomes more and more aggressive; when Roxas glances at you, you are close to summoning your weapons and attacking him for staying so calm. How can he be like that when you two fight, but become angry when you barely scratch humans? Why can they rouse feelings in him when you can't?

"I didn't break my promise," you hiss defensively, "Nobody was hurt."

"But you harmed humans," he retorts sharply, and you close your mouth, stunned by his tone. "What about the owners? Or the people who work here?"

For a minute or two you can only stare at him, rendered speechless by the sheer absurdity of his reasoning. Why should you care if those weaklings lose their jobs? He shouldn't care either; at least he does not during your missions.

"Why the fuck do you care?" you blurt out, unable to control yourself any longer. You're confused, and angry; or at least you remember what angry felt like very clearly right now. You notice how he flinches, how his eyes flit over the staring people, and your fingers itch to close themselves around his neck and strangle him; for deeming them more important than you.

You reach out to grab his shoulder and turn him around, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"Why do you give a fuck about them, Roxas?" you yell, and you shake him lightly, ignoring how he narrows his eyes. "They are weak! Useless! They are Heartless' fodder! They will never be as strong, or have superior abilities like we do!" 'They are not like us! They are not like you! I am like you, I understand you, I can relate! They will never understand you! Why are they more important than me?'

"Why do you care about them so much?" you end your query.

"Because I want to be like them, Axel," he answers softly, taking your hands and gently pulling them away from his body. You're feeling too tired to resist all of a sudden. "Don't lie to yourself. You wish you were like them too. You want what they have. A normal life. A heart."

All you can do is rip your hands out of his and turn around, because he is right, so right, but you won't admit it, not even to yourself. The all too painful emptiness inside you grows stronger the longer you think about it, and frustrated you wish you could be angry.

You're just about to open a portal and leave when you hear Roxas hiss, "Oh, now you want to make a dramatic exit? You, asshole, have no right to act like that! You broke your promise, just because I obviously said something that offended you somehow! But you know what? Fuck you, you drama queen!"

And then he opens a portal and leaves you alone with the now screaming crowd. You stare after him unbelievingly, your hand still raised to channel darkness to form a portal, your eyes wide open. And you don't know whether to laugh hysterically or burn the remains of the café for good in a fit of rage.

And he dares to call you a drama queen?

You finally settle on lowering your hand and chuckling softly, shaking your head. You know you should probably have followed him – it's not good to leave him alone when he's in one of his nearly-emotional moods. His portal has closed while you were frozen in shock about his emotional outburst, but it's not like you don't know where you will find him. You know him all too well, you always find him somehow.

You jump through your own dark portal, glad that it cuts off the surprised and fearful screams of the crowd at that dreadful beach. The warm, orange light of the sunset greets you, and like always you can hear some children laugh and yell somewhere in the distance.

You arrive just in time to watch his next portal fade.

Sighing heavily you open one as well and leave the clock tower behind only to change it for another location in the same world.

Again you are greeted by a closing portal, just in front of the gates of the old mansion, and you know that he's going to another world now since the energy signature of his portal has changed.

When you arrive at the bent Papou tree, you even catch a glimpse of angry blue eyes before he jumps through another portal.

This time you don't bother to open your own portal, but just rush forward to jump through his before it closes. Good thing you managed to do that too, because you aren't quite sure where he was headed next anyway.

Radiant Garden. Well, well.

You arch your eyebrows slightly as you look around, but at the same time you reach out to hold him back when he tries to escape again. You grab hold of his shirt, jerking him back roughly, and with a strangled cry he trips and falls back, right into your arms. Not intending to give him a chance to run off again you throw him to the ground and twist his right arm onto his back until he hisses in pain, straddling the small of his back to immobilize him effectively. He twists and turns and swears and tries to wiggle out of your painful grip until you twist his arm into an agonizing angle. With a small groan he goes limp, signaling you that he gives up. Very uncharacteristic. You expected more of a fight than that. The last time he tried to be stubborn you had to break his arm to keep him from attacking you.

"Down, boy," you order flatly, smirking when he tries to turn his head to glare at you, but to your surprise he still doesn't try to free himself.

You look up again, inspecting the town where your Other lost his heart. Nothing has really changed since then, you decide. The people may have started to rebuild the city, but it's still rotten, corrupt, foul and worthless.

"I'm sorry," you finally say.

"You don't even know what for," he growls irritated.

"No," you admit, cautiously releasing his arm but staying on alert in case he comes to his senses and decides to fight back. "And you know I don't even mean it. I can't really be sorry, you know."

"I know," he mutters, folding his arms and hiding his face in them.

"But friends do say they are sorry if they did something wrong, right? So, I'm sorry. For doing something that upset you. Though I don't really get what the hell I did wrong," you continue, and now that you're sure that he won't try to behead you as soon as you release him you get off him and sit beside him on the ground. He doesn't move and doesn't answer, and after a while you try to get up and leave, quite sure that he's still mad at you and won't talk to you anymore.

He quickly grabs your sleeve and pulls you back so you almost fall onto your back, and quite surprised you stare down at him. He still doesn't look up, and he mumbles something into his arm that you don't quite understand.

"What the hell, Roxas?" you laugh, trying to pull your arm away. He doesn't let go.

"I'm sorry," he repeats louder, his voice still muffled, but understandable. "I… I don't know why I acted like that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you… I don't know why…"

"Because you're a prissy little bitch, my dear," you explain helpfully, ruffling his hair. He snorts amused, but finally he turns his head to look at you. With a sigh he props his chin in his hands and watches you thoughtfully.

"I really don't know why I was so upset," he admits and laughs loudly. You frown at its artificiality; usually you don't mind him faking emotions, simply because it's part of your nature, but this… it was like he didn't even try to make it sound convincing. "I shouldn't have minded that you tried to burn down the café."

"I should probably not have tried to burn it down," you reply, and right after the words have left your mouth your eyes widen in surprise, and Roxas' mouth falls open.

"That… sounded wrong," he finally says, and you only nod, feeling somehow dazed. It really did. Like… Just… Wrong.

You both fall silent for a while, Roxas propping his chin in both hands and gazing at the city, you facing the opposite direction, watching tiny figures bustling around the destroyed castle – for a while. You hope he doesn't notice you watching him from the corners of your eyes when you can't keep your eyes off him any longer.

He's so strange today. So different.

"Why did we even fight, Axel?" he asks after a while, and you're a bit surprised when you hear your own voice answer immediately.

"You said something stupid, and I blew up. You know, the usual." You shrug and raise one hand, conjuring a small fireball to hover over your palm. You watch the tiny flame flicker and twitch, letting it wander over your gloved fingers. That's a nervous habit you acquired years ago; back when you had just been turned into a Nobody, right after waking up in some dark alley, where you had been left to bleed to death, your only company the memories of searing pain and hot blood coating your hands, your face, tasting metallic and sickening inside your mouth; memories of deceitfully silent shadows killing the screaming people all around you. While you had been waiting in that alley, completely at a loss what to do, you had first noticed the warmth running through your veins, turning into torrid heat that threatened to devour you, manifesting in fire bursting from your skin, your eyes, your screaming mouth, scorching your flesh; and then it had stopped. That was when you heard Superior's voice calling your new name for the first time; telling you to control the abilities that were given to you. It took you such a long time to control your element to create more than those small fireballs…

… woah, digressing much? You're supposed to calm Roxas down, aren't you? You being his mentor… his friend and all…

You know he's watching you now, with this damned, innocent, curious look of his, and with a sigh you close your fingers around the flickering flame and squelch it.

"It's not important," you mutter and look down at your hands. "Forget about it."

"But what did I say?"

"Nothing…"

"No, I want to know! Did I insult you? I…"

"No, you…"

"You know I don't know how…"

Yes, you know he's not experienced in matters of human interaction. Yes, you know that he lost all of Sora's memories and is unsure about everything he does. Yes, you know he just tries to learn, that he doesn't want a faux pas like this to ever happen again.

But, your lack of heart be damned, right now guilt is suffocating you, because you are making everything so difficult for him.

"Roxas?"

"Yes?"

And now he's looking at you again, so eager to learn about his wrongdoings, so eager to learn, so hungry for knowledge, and he thinks you are the right one to teach him. You are his mentor, his teacher, his friend. He thinks you know everything.

Oh, how wrong he is.

"Shut the fuck up," you growl, looking away when his face falls. Dammit. Why do you even try to resist him?

You sigh, then let your shoulders droop, running a hand through your spiky hair. You purse your lips, then open your mouth… but it's all too ridiculous, your behavior before was ridiculous, your nervousness now is even more so.

"You called me…" you mutter and then you draw your knees up and rest your arms on them, and you hide your face in your arms, just peering at him over your folded limbs. "… beautiful," you add even quieter. It sounds even more stupid now that you said it, and suddenly you feel very vulnerable. It's the strangest feeling ever. You, one of the most powerful Nobodies in the Organization, the Nobody commanding the Assassins, the Nobody commanding fire, feel vulnerable in the face of a Nobody who is so much younger than you, who still doesn't dare to use his abilities in a fight, who doesn't dare to give the Nobodies assigned to him orders yet, a Nobody who looks like a little boy.

"What?" Of course he didn't understand your mumbling, and now he sits up and stares at you. Great. Now he's curious.

"Women are beautiful," you suddenly snap at him, and you hate the slowly spreading smirk on his lips… Yeah, maybe not hate. You still dislike it, almost as much as the flaming heat rising into your cheeks.

Well, you would. If you were able to. You know. Feel.

"I see…" he drawls and smirks a bit wider. "That was it? What, did you think I overlooked the tiny detail you were male?"

"Noooo, I…" you groan and immediately stop yourself. It sounds even dumber when he puts it this way.

"Geez, Axel, I think I would've noticed boobs on you all the times I had to tend your wounds after battle…"

"Oh, shut the f-…"

"Awww, Axie, are you being bashful?"

"Just faking," you mumble into your arms, and only when the words slip past your lips you notice you just repeated an answer he gave you to the very same question not too long ago. "Oh, fuck you!"

"Such crude language," Roxas laughs and you want to tell him off so badly, and yet you can't, because his carefree, honest laughter is too precious to be disturbed.

So you let him laugh at you, because even though it unnerves you, it also feels so right for him to laugh; you just sit there and yell curses at him in your mind, careful not to let them spill from your treacherous mouth.

He calms down soon enough, the amused grin softens to a smile, and you know he feels a bit bad for laughing at you too; you can see it in his eyes, and in the way he fidgets with his hands.

"I'm sorry," he says, and his voice sounds a bit choked. You mumble something vaguely affirmative into your folded arms, staring at the destroyed castle again.

"If it were anybody else, they'd be so, so dead by now," you grumble and stiffly rise from the floor.

"I know," he agrees and follows you. He's still smiling at you, and you don't know whether to smack him or to steal some ice cream for him.

And while he's smiling at you, you can't help but think that, even though he is a boy, the word that would describe him best is beautiful.

It's his power over light, you're fairly sure of it, but he seems too pure to be handsome, too soft to be attractive, too grown-up to be cute and too tough to be pretty. No, the only way to describe him would be beautiful, with his golden hair and deep blue eyes, and gentle smile and, most of all, his overwhelming presence… And you wish you could always stay with him, bask in his light and savor his pureness, you wish you could stay with him, because he makes you forget that you're incomplete… He makes you feel whole, he makes you feel right, he makes you want to take him into your arms and hold him and protect him from the direful truth that is your existence…

And then you stop thinking, and you notice how fast your breathing has become and how strange and light and dizzy you feel, and how damn hot, too hot even for you and your damn fire abilities… It feels like back then, in that nameless dark alley, it feels like losing control, feels like the fire running through your veins is about to break through your skin…

Disturbed by your own thoughts you turn away from him, open a portal and hurry through it; you're not running away, you keep telling yourself, even when you find yourself running through the dark alleys in the World That Never Was, even when you can no longer control the fire burning under your skin and the cracked asphalt melts beneath your feet. Your coat catches fire, your hands release fireball after fireball against a few scattered heartless crawling out of the dark. You keep running, fighting to regain control; the fire dies down, but you're startling lesser Nobodies in their thoughtless wandering. You can feel a pack of Assassins reaching out to you, trying to read your thoughts, trying to fulfill every one of your wishes, trying to ease your distress, but you block them instinctively. They flinch back, their shrill protests reverberating in your mind, and you rush past them, still hiding your thoughts most carefully.

Right now, they would probably attack you.

Because you feel so confused, because you feel so angry, because you feel so terrified, because you feel.

You stop when you can sense no more Nobodies near you; you lean against a wall, slightly bent forward, eyes wide, panting for air like you just ran for hours, staring at your pale, unscathed skin beneath the charred leather of your glove; and you try to understand what just happened, but you can't… You grab your scorched coat right above your chest, where a heart should beat, and there is nothing; of course there isn't, but there should be, and you are so sure that there was something before! When Roxas looked at you and smiled… almost like…

You gasp loudly and lay back your head, eyes searching for the familiar sight of the imperfect, unfinished heart glowing in the sky. Kingdom Hearts always was so soothing, because it promised you a chance to become complete one day, but now you can't help but think that it is terrible, so ghastly in its incompletion. It's mocking your desperate pursuit for normalcy.

Until you are able to feel, the warmth you believe to feel every time he is close to you cannot be real.

Author's Notes: *stressed* Here you are, hope you like, thanks for reading kaythanksbye.