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The old house is not what Tenko would have thought of as shabby chic like Hana had insisted, but it is a house, and he had agreed to spend a summer here. In this house that looks like it doesn’t even have AC. In this house with overgrown weeds everywhere, and grass up to his knees out front and back.
He leaves his bags at the entrance, slides off his shoes. He’ll need to buy a couple pairs of slippers, since he didn’t think to bring any. Before unpacking, he maps out the house. There are four bedrooms close to each other, all clustered down one hallway, and a master bedroom on the other side of the house. There is an attic; it is stuffed with dust and old chests of somethings. There is a kitchen, there is a living room, there is a dining area. There’s even a dojo attached to the side, with training equipment that probably hasn’t been touched in decades still sitting faithfully by the walls. Pictures hang on the walls, of so-and so’s graduation, so-and-so’s first day of school. None of the faces ring any bells. Tenko wonders, for the third time today, how the hell his family came to own this house.
Still, it is his, if only for the summer. So Tenko stretches his arms above his head and drags his bags to one of the bedrooms down the hall, and starts to unpack. He places his things in the dresser against the wall, surprisingly in quite good condition. There is a window beside the bed, and after struggling to open it for a solid five minutes Tenko finally gets it unjammed, and throws it open to let out the musty air inside. The summer heat pours in like ocean waves over sand, dousing Tenko in warmth, but he's dressed lightly, so he doesn't mind too much. It fills the room with the scent of the lush greenery all around, no matter how unkempt.
The first day is mostly spent inside, making sure all the appliances still work and the lights still turn on. He ventures to the supermarket down the hill on a bike hidden in the shed out back that proves to be in working condition, and he pushes it back up with a backpack full of groceries (and spare lightbulbs) weighing him down. Sweat gathers on his brow, and he brushes his hair off his neck to abate it welling up there too. He bought a pack of hair ties, too, specifically for the months to come, when his long hair gets too annoying to keep down. His bangs are even long enough to tie off (albeit stupidly) at the top of his head. When he gets back and loads everything into the refrigerator, he notes that the freezer above is making a rather worrisome sound, so he googles the nearest technician and makes an appointment for them to come check it out. Luckily he didn't buy any ice cream or the like, though it would be welcome right now.
The gas stove is fine, though, and there's plenty of pots and pans stuffed into the lower cupboards. He pulls out a skillet and sets it to heat on one of the burners, and goes about making himself lunch. He chops a carrot and an onion and some pork, and pulls out an ancient rice cooker from another cabinet. He fries an egg and places it on top, then eats dinner at the coffee table in the living room. There's a television set up in the corner, but Tenko has no idea if this place even has cable, much less a subscription to any TV company. It's covered in dust, and clearly an old model. Tenko wonders if he'll be able to connect his Switch to it.
He lies in bed that night, still full from a late lunch, and stares at the ceiling instead of pulling out his phone, charging on the sidetable. There are miniscule cracks everywhere in the plaster. There is a small, lightly greenish stain up there too, like someone threw slime or something at it then got up on a ladder and tried to scrub it off. Tenko wonders who lived here decades before he wandered in. Obviously, it must've been the family whose pictures he'd seen on the wall. But still-- how did the house fall to the Shimuras, if Tenko knows none of them? Were his parents acquaintances? If they were close enough to give their humble abode to his parents, wouldn't Tenko have met them, or their children.
Are they even still alive? is his last thought before he drifts off, succumbing to slumber even as he makes out the sound of a door closing, a room over.
The second day is spent inside, again, but Tenko plans to tackle the beast that is the jungle surrounding the house tomorrow. He wields the broom and dustpan he'd found in a storage closet before whipping out a mop and trying to clear all the dust and dirt off the floor, to begin with. With some surface cleaner he'd bought from the store, he tries to wipe down everything he can reach, even standing on a chair to reach the tops of the cabinets and the refrigerator. He tightens the knobs that are coming loose on some of the cupboards, and thankfully he only needs to scrub the lime and hard water buildup in the sink basin instead of fiddling with the pipes, because the faucet still runs clear. It must be from a well in the back. He doesn't fuss much with the bedrooms other than his own aside from dusting off the respective dressers and bookshelves and such, but he does change the sheets he'd laid on yesterday for some fresh ones he'd packed into his bag before he left. The washing machine and dryer in the laundry closet seem a bit clunky, but they don't spurt soap everywhere when Tenko puts some in to wash the sheets and his clothes from yesterday, so it must be okay.
He does get around to tinkering with the TV, and luckily it still has an HDMI port for him to plug his switch in. Unfortunately, there isn't any wifi, a detail he'd overlooked until now, and that simply won't do; he orders a nondescript yet sturdy router off Amazon while lounging on the couch, and it says it'll come within two days. He can surely survive two days on phone data alone.
Wiping the grime from the windows is tiresome, but they seem to gleam when he finishes, he notes with a touch of triumph. There is a sliding door to the side of the living room that leads to a small patio and the overgrown backyard, and Tenko finds a built in firepit and a grill with wheels too rusted to move. He supposes he doesn't really need the grill, he can probably pawn it off to someone down the hill, but the firepit looks usable. All that's in it is a bunch of burnt up charcoal, and a grate that's not too rusty it's beyond saving, so Tenko lugs it over to the hose sticking out of the side of the house, waits for it to stop sputtering and spit out some water, and then retrieves steel wool and vinegar from inside. He soaks the metal sponge in vinegar and starts to scrub, and soon enough, a chrome finish starts to come through, once the rust has been rinsed off. He replaces it on the firepit and makes a note to buy some firewood from the supermarket if he can, as well as go exploring in the woods behind the house for kindling.
Though he must admit, he is a bit startled when he turns around and sees the sliding door wide open, after he's sure he closed it behind him. The gauzy curtains hanging from the rod above it sway lightly in the breeze. Tenko turns the hose off, gathers his supplies and heads indoors, making sure to close it and lock it behind him this time.
He passes out nearly the moment he hits the bed this time. The window by his bedside is open, but he just supposes he must've forgotten to close it yesterday. He dozes off within seconds.
As he'd told himself the day before, the third day is spent outdoors. He finds a hand mower in the shed when he throws the wooden door open, having broken off the brittle and decrepit padlock keeping it shut, and a wave of dust hits him in the face just like it did when he found the bike. It takes a few pulls to get it to start running, but it does start. Then, he thinks better of it, and grabs the weedwhacker off the wall to begin with. The grass is up to his knees, for god's sake.
He starts in the front, where the greenery is so overgrown it's starting to cover the windows by the front door. He cuts it down till it's just barely reaching up his sneakers, then traipses inside to grab a trash bag and stuff the scythed grass inside so it isn't laying all over the place. Once he's filled three trash bags worth he breaks out the mower, and trims it down to a reasonable length. He's drenched in sweat by the time he's done, and he decides to take a break for lunch, the sun hanging directly overhead in the bright blue sky. He eats instant yakisoba and has a glass of lemonade, relishing in the AC he got working yesterday.
As he's throwing his bowl away and pouring another glass to bring outside while he whittles away at the back, he hears something again, like a heavy item falling to the floor with a loud thud. He hears it once, then twice, then a third time, then it stops. Tenko stands stock still, wondering a bit frantically if someone broke in and he should call the police. He clutches his phone in his hand and tiptoes down the hallway to the dojo, in the direction he'd heard the noises. He peeks through a crack in the door. Seeing there's no one to be found, he slides it open.
There, in the center of the dojo mats, are three barbell weights, each with a white 20 emblazoned on the side to indicate their weight. The weights rack is pushed to the wall, and sure enough there are three spots open. They surely couldn't have rolled off-- the others look perfectly secure. Yet there they are, as if someone had just been using them. As if someone had been there.
Tenko shakes his head. He can't quite muster up an explanation, but he's too tired from his work earlier to care. He lugs the barbells back to the rack and puts them back in their respective spots. He looks over his shoulder once more before he leaves, but the dojo is still empty. He slides the door shut and returns to the kitchen.
That night, as he peels off his pants and shirt and lays starfishlike in his boxers in bed, he ponders. Maybe the house is haunted, he thinks. His mind goes back to the pictures hanging in the hallway. Maybe they really are dead.
The next day is a rest day, because Tenko's sure he deserves it. The router comes in the mail, and the technician for the freezer shows up at noon, so Tenko leaves him be to hook up the router to an outlet in the living room, the manual at his side. He'd texted Hana two days before and asked if she could ask their parents if he could have a wifi subscription while he was here, and she told him they had agreed, he just needed to send the details. Quietly so as not to disturb the man working in his kitchen, he calls his mother.
"Tenko? Is that you, honey?" Her voice echoes through the phone, right to his eardrums. "Yeah, it's me." He answers lamely, unsure of what else to say. "My router came, I was hoping you could set me up with the wifi?"
They chat for a few minutes about the specifics (when Tenko offers to pay, she tells him don't worry about it, you should be focusing on having fun!), and once he's confirmed it's up and running he thanks her. "I'm just so glad you agreed to stay there awhile." She mentions, sounding forlorn. "It's been so long since anyone's lived in that house."
Tenko swallows. "Who was the family that lived here, before?" He asks tentatively. "There's pictures of them on the wall." His mother sighs, and she speaks with a somber tone. "The Todoroki family owned the house. Your father was quite good friends with Mr. Enji, the man of the house. They must've moved away… maybe, it's been twenty years now? They couldn't bear to stay there anymore because their eldest passed away while they were there, how sad… I'm glad at least their other children were okay…"
The eldest? Tenko recalls the picture on the wall, with a child still in elementary school clothes, one with snowy white hair, the tallest and bulkiest of the bunch, a young girl with red streaks in her otherwise white hair, and a lanky boy who must've been in high school, with a head of flaming red hair. One of the older boys, it must've been. "That's horrible." He says, his words escaping him. "If you know… how did he die?" Tenko curses himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. You've always been too curious for your own good, he hears his father saying.
His mother sighs again. "They told us he suffocated in his sleep." She says, her voice far off, sounding millions of miles away through the phone. "They said he'd suffered from sleep apnea before, but it'd never been that bad, so they hadn't been worried about it… That poor mother, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you or Hana." She sounds like she's about to cry, so Tenko changes the subject. "I'm not going anywhere, Mom." He says. "How are things there?"
She chatters on for awhile about Tenko's father, Hana, and Tenko's grandparents that share their house, about what's been going on. Apparently Hana has a volleyball tournament coming up, so Tenko makes a mental note to wish her luck. Eventually he says goodbye, and when he hangs up he notices the technician is lingering in the entryway to the living room, not wanting to interrupt. Tenko apologizes and tips him a 1000 yen bill for his services. Maybe he'll go out and buy some popsicles later.
He's been fiddling with Youtube on his Switch when he hears a noise like shattering glass from the hallway. He scrambles over and, there, broken on the hardwood floor, is one of the picture frames from the wall. It's of the boy with the red hair, probably a school photo. Tenko gingerly steps around the glass and picks it up, and behind the picture frame is him scowling, his lips twisted into a grimace, like there's any place he'd rather be. Curious, Tenko pulls the photo out of the frame and glances at the back. There, in smudged blue ink, is a name and a date that reads Todoroki Touya, 1993. Touya, Tenko thinks. Maybe he's the eldest. The one that suffocated in his sleep.
This is the last straw for Tenko though. Between the door, the weights, and now the picture frame, he's had enough. "Okay, Touya." He says loudly, as if making sure the other can hear him. "This may be your house, but I'd appreciate it if you quit trying to freak me out all the time." He waits for a moment, but there is no indication Touya is listening. Tenko continues on anyway. "If you can interact with inanimate objects, then I'll leave pen and paper out for you to communicate. So stop being a nuisance." He then leaves the hallway to grab the broom and the dustpan, to clean up the glass. The photo is still clasped in his hand.
He does end up leaving pen and paper out, actually. Just on the off chance he's not insane. What am I even doing, he thinks to himself as he rummages through a drawer for a pen. Maybe I've lost it and I haven't realized it.
Yet, the next morning, there is something written on the notepad. Tenko holds his breath, and draws closer. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and reads.
In smudged blue ink, Touya has written, I prefer to be called Dabi.
Eventually, after a week of hard work, Tenko has made the house presentable. It surely doesn't look as good as it did when there were people living in it, but it's miles ahead of how he found it when he first arrived. He travels down the hill to the supermarket every few days, for produce and a bit of meat, and maybe rice if he's out, and sometimes he stops by the dango shop down there for some grilled mochi. Even in this heat, it tastes like home.
There's a couple new games he's bought off the eshop, so he's been passing the time by playing his Switch, texting Hana every now and then, gaming on his laptop when he feels like it, at the desk in his bedroom. He bought a small standup fan to put in there too, and angled it towards the bed so he got some circulation at night. The window helps, but sometimes at night the air is sticky and still, too uncomfortable to let in. He doesn't run the AC all the time so as not to break the bank, but sometimes he has to cave and crank the knob down, a melting popsicle grasped in his hand.
And of course, there is Dabi.
It's only been a week and a half, only three days since he confronted him for the first time, but things have already settled into an easy routine. Tenko leaves the notepad out, and Dabi writes when he wants to. He goes days without saying anything, sometimes, long enough that Tenko wonders if he's left or something, but then within an hour he'll have written a paragraph of what's on his mind. They even have conversations; Tenko speaks aloud, and Dabi scribbles on the notepad in response. Who are the other people in the pictures?, Tenko asks. The tiny one is Shouto, Dabi answers. The two other kids are Fuyumi and Natsuo. The man is Enji, and the woman is Rei. He doesn't seem to like talking about Enji, so Tenko steers away from him as a topic. Dabi can talk about his siblings for hours, but if Tenko brings up his dad he clams up. He's left in the middle of a conversation before, because of that.
Other than being a general nuisance sometimes (leaving cabinet doors open and turning Tenko's fan off and on), Dabi is surprisingly easy to live with. Sometimes if Tenko doesn't close the fridge all the way he shuts it for him. One time when Tenko was cooking dinner, Dabi wrote 'hi' in the sauce. He's discovered he can fuck with the TV too, able to send Tenko messages ingame as a bot. Are you winning, he asks as Tenko mines redstone in Minecraft. You don't win in Minecraft, Tenko types back. Lame, Dabi says.
Dabi never joins him on excursions outside, obviously, but he did manage to send Tenko a text, once while he was at a tea shop down the hill. House is on fire, his message had read. No more, no less. Tenko had paid as quickly as possible and biked as fast as his legs could to get back, and when he did, there was no smoke, no fire, no spark or embers. He recalls being pissed at Dabi for a few hours, but Dabi had written sorry, your face was too funny.
Soon enough, a month has passed, and June has given way to July, with all its heatwaves and stinky humidity. Tenko sits on the back porch licking at a grape popsicle with purple lips, when his phone buzzes with a call. The ID says it's Hana, so he picks up. "Hello?" He says. "Tenko!" Hana all but screams into the receiver, and he has to hold his phone away from his ear for a moment. "What is it?" He asks, once her volume has lowered. "I got my acceptance letter, from Musutafu!" She cheers, and Tenko feels a sense of pride well up in his chest. She'd been aiming for a university close to home, and Musutafu had the sports program of her dreams, so it was a no brainer. She'd been at the top of her class throughout high school, and it'd earned her a great social standing too. Tenko can admit his sister is pretty, not bad looking at all, so he was unsurprised when she was out nearly every night, going to karaoke or mixers or even on dates. She deserved it, he thinks. She deserved to have what he couldn't hope for.
He congratulates her, and after chatting for a moment about how he's been, they hang up. Tenko feels happy for her, he does, but-- something in him is sad, forlorn, wishing he could've been the same. He's two years older, and he never went to college. He makes his dues as a programmer for a low-level tech startup, one that probably wouldn't make it past the next five years. They pay well, though, so Tenko does his part, but he doesn't aim higher than that. He mostly keeps to himself when he has to go into the office, which he almost never does, because all of his work is online. It's what allowed him to spend the summer here in the first place.
His grades were subpar in high school, too. Nobody ever wanted to get close to Shimura, the gloomy kid always scratching at his neck, with tons of tiny scars around his eyes, bruised purple skin beneath. Nobody wanted to get close to Shimura, who everyone loved to gossip about behind his back, like if he was being abused at home or not and that's why he looks the way he does. Like if he wore colored contacts, or his eyes were just that bloody, off-putting red naturally.
He usually ate his lunches alone in the boys' restroom. He'd freeze up when anyone walked in, and only allow himself to breathe when they left. He didn't join any clubs, despite his classmates jeering he'd fit right in in the Occult Club. Tenko went straight home after the bell rang and didn't think about anything else. He ran away before anyone could even think about cornering the weirdo and beating him up for being so strange.
His nose feels full. He sniffs, and munches on his popsicle. His phone buzzes again, this time with a text.
>Come back in. I'm bored.
So Tenko goes back in. His popsicle stick wasn't a winner.
When he thinks about it absentmindedly, while brushing his teeth or showering or washing dishes, maybe, Tenko wonders if Dabi is his first real friend, outside of Hana. Hana doesn't really count because she's his sister. He'd mention Mon-chan, but Mon-chan is a dog, and dogs love everyone who's nice to them. He's never talked to someone new as easily as he has with Dabi. Maybe it's because Dabi is dead, and he can't see him, can only feel his cold presence when he hovers closeby, can only see how the pen moves as if possessed when he's writing down what he wants to say. He's never even seen what Dabi looks like, outside of the pictures in the hallway. He's learned that while Dabi was the oldest, Fuyumi was his twin, born only minutes later. Natsuo came next, and then Shouto was the baby of the family. Dabi always seems a bit wistful when Shouto comes up, like there's something nagging at him that he hasn't told Tenko, but Tenko doesn't want to push his luck and pry. So he lets it be, lets Dabi be.
The first time he glimpses Dabi for real is when he's just woken up and stumbled to the bathroom to wash his face. He splashes water onto his cheeks in the sink basin, and when he peers up at the mirror between wet lashes, there is a boy standing behind him, his hair a shock of pure white. Tenko recoils for a moment, about to turn around, when he realizes that it's Touya's face, the same one in the picture. So it's Dabi, standing behind him and showing himself for the first time, if he even means to. Tenko tries to brush it off. "Did you need something?" He asks curtly, and Dabi smiles, in the mirror. Tenko squints to read his lips, enunciating one word only.
Nope.
They continue their song and dance, until halfway through July, when his parents decide to send Hana to Kyushu to visit. It's only a couple hours by train, but the bus ride out to the countryside is another two in itself. Hana shows up at his door bright as usual, yet looking a little tired in the creases around her eyes, the strain in her grin. Tenko ushers her inside and sits her down on the couch, offering her a glass of lemonade which she gladly accepts. He cracks open a can of cola for himself. "How has it been here?" She asks, looking around and taking it all in. The house still hasn't outgrown the label shabby-chic, but Tenko thinks it's nothing to cough at, anymore. "Not bad." He says, thinking of his ghostly roommate. "Slow. Quiet."
Hana laughs. "Your favorite."
She's only spending a couple days, but Tenko still treats her to oden from the stand he's been frequenting, buying a beer for himself and laughing when Hana pouts and gets a soda. They stop at the tea shop, too, and while Tenko usually just gets a plain sweet fruit tea, Hana goes out of her way to get all the possible fixins' into her bubble tea. She shoves her straw through with more enthusiasm than Tenko could ever manage. He supposes they can stay in tomorrow, play some multiplayer games. Maybe sit out by the firepit and light it up, come the evening.
"You seem happy here." She says, when they've returned home and Tenko is showing her to one of the spare bedrooms, one he'd switched the sheets on beforehand. Tenko glances at her. "Do I?" He asks, because he isn't sure himself. He's never felt particularly happy to be in any specific place, but he does feel like he can relax here, with only Dabi floating around somewhere, writing comments in his notepad on the counter. He wonders what the other is up to, now that Hana is here. Hana smiles at him, and it lights up the hallway around them. "Yeah." She says. "I'm glad you decided to come, earlier."
Tenko feels himself flush a bit-- it hadn't really been his choice, more one he was pushed into by their father, but he finds he doesn't mind, anymore. He does like it here. It's not as stifling as home, where he has to lock himself in his room to get any peace. Away from everyone else is the only place he can relax, there.
As he lays in bed that night, window open and fan blowing, the crickets chirping outside like a symphony, the lamp clicks on next to him. Tenko rolls over and looks up at it, and he knows Dabi is there. "Hey." He says, voice rough from being worn out. "How did you die?"
The room is still, sans the whir of the fan and the moonlight trickling in from outside. Tenko closes his eyes and waits. He waits, because he can be patient, if only for his friend. A voice echoes in his ears, as if it's for no one to hear but him.
My dad strangled me to death.
Tenko's eyes flutter open. His gaze shifts to the room, looking around as if to find where Dabi is. "My mom said it was sleep apnea." He murmurs. "That you suffocated in your sleep."
Dabi laughs, hollowly. Of course they did, he mutters. I was always the problem child. They were better off, after I died. I saw it before they left.
An inexplicable sadness wells up in Tenko then, like a fountain with its pipes burst. "That's not fair." He whispers. "They shouldn't-- you shouldn't have to die, for them to be happy." Would my family be happier, if I died?
Dabi doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, Does it matter now?
Tenko shuts his eyes. "No." He says. "I guess not."
But still, he thinks, to himself. I wish I could've met you, before.
When Hana leaves, she hugs Tenko tightly as if she wants to rub off all her happiness onto him, and kisses his cheek. "Have a good summer." She says, smiling. Tenko returns it, crookedly, as best he can. "Take care of yourself, when you go to Musutafu." He says. Her eyes crinkle into a grin, and she waves as she turns to walk off. Tenko does too, keeping his hand raised until he can't see her down the hill anymore.
He walks inside, and he glances at the pictures on the wall. Something snaps in him, or perhaps, something mends. He plucks each of the frames off the wall, and spreads them over the kitchen table. He removes each and every photo, until all that's left is lacquered wood and glass. He tosses them into a garbage bag and ties it off.
Outside, he dumps the photos into the firepit, and he piles kindling on top. What are you doing?, Dabi asks, sounding a little alarmed. Tenko doesn't stop layering on the wood, for a fire that should burn for at least an hour. One that should last all night, if he'd let it. "I don't want--" He starts, then pauses, unsure of how to continue. He steels himself. "You don't need to live with these anymore."
He sets his lighter to the kindling, and it catches. Once the fire really starts roaring, Tenko watches the photos curl up, crumble, and turn to ash, until they fly away into the afternoon air, cool for this time of day. Tenko watches the embers swirl around like lightning bugs. Thanks, Dabi says, after his prolonged silence. Tenko closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the breeze, the scent of the flames wafting through the air. The you're welcome goes unsaid, but Tenko is sure Dabi understands.
By the time August has hit the halfway mark, Tenko starts to think about how he's going to live when he comes home, finally. He will miss the oden stand, the dango shop. He will miss the kind older lady who always checks him out at the supermarket, who always insists he should remember to drink lots of water in this heat. He will miss the house, and the window in his room, and the router he set up himself. Despite anything and everything, he will miss Dabi.
He barely even registers packing his things, putting away all the tools in the shed and closing the door as tightly as he can, clearing out the firepit for its next user, shutting off the AC and cleaning out the fridge. He can feel Dabi's gaze on him as he collects his shampoo and soap from the bathroom, his face lotion and conditioner. He puts the two pairs of slippers he'd bought on his second day here in the closet by the entryway.
There was a key his parents had given him, right before he left. It was tarnished silver, looking like it'd fall apart the second it was stuck into any lock, but the door here still swung open faithfully every time he used it. He locks the sliding door, and he peers down the hallway at the dojo, the master bedroom that he never went in, not even once. It felt like betrayal, to go where Dabi's killer once slept. It felt like anger. And the dojo, where Dabi had told him stories of his father beating him and Shouto into the ground until they could barely stand, Tenko has never gone inside since the incident with the weights, when Dabi first made himself known. It wasn't as if Dabi told him never to venture there, it just felt… wrong, to ever see it as just another room in the house. There is a story woven into those mats, and it is not a pretty one.
Tenko stands in the entryway, backpack on his shoulders, duffel bag grasped in one hand. He takes one last look around, and his neck feels cold. As if someone is wrapping their arms around him, and saying don't go.
Tenko goes. Because that's what he has to do. Because summer is over. Because nothing good lasts forever. Tenko goes home, and his heart feels no different, but his head is in the clouds for the whole ride back.
There is an envelope stuck in his bag, he notices when he's unpacking, back in his room, back in his father's house. He misses Kyushu already. It is not sealed, and the name on it reads Tenko. With hands that are decidedly not trembling, Tenko opens the note.
Thanks for hanging around for a while. It was nice to have someone else around. I was going a little stir crazy, stuck in that house all by myself, you know? Your games suck, but they're good for boredom, I guess. Tell your sister I say hi, haha.
Thanks for everything. Come back sometime.
Dabi