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“Sena,” Leo whispers one night. “Do you believe in aliens?”
They’re eight years old and wrapped up in sleeping bags in Leo’s garden. He would not stop going on about a meteor shower occurring that night, so they set up one of those tents with a see-through roof in hopes of catching a glimpse. Izumi isn’t the fondest of sleeping outside, even if he’s within the safety of a tent, but Leo has this kind of pull on him that he just can’t resist.
If you’d told Izumi a year ago that the boy with the messy twilight hair and animalistic tendencies would end up being his best friend, he would have scoffed in your face.
“Hah? What kind of question is that?” Izumi rolls over so he’s facing Leo. “Of course I don’t. That’s stupid, like you.”
Leo moves around as well, frowning. “No, you’re the stupid one, stupid! Aliens have to be real. After all, we’re only one planet out of an eternal galaxy! There’s no way we’re the only intelligent life form ever.”
“I hear that, but at the same time, it’s stupid.” If Izumi had a hundred yen for every time Leo has brought aliens and their existence up since they met, he would be rich. “There’s no point wasting your time thinking about stuff like that. You need to hold on to what little brain cells you have left, Leo-kun.”
“You’re so mean, Sena!” Leo huffs indignantly. He shuffles closer to Izumi, so close that their noses are practically touching. Even when he tries to make himself look angry, he just looks like a mildly irritated kitten. “I hate you!”
Izumi doesn’t back away, however. “I know you do. You tell me all the time, you know.”
Worry flashes across Leo’s expression. “I-I didn’t mean it, promise! I’m sorry, Sena, forgive me! I could never hate you, I love you!” He throws his arms around Izumi’s shoulders, nuzzling into him.
“I know, Leo-kun. You tell me that all the time too. It gets confusing.” It doesn’t, but Izumi likes to wind Leo up. He knows he doesn’t hate him; Leo seems incapable of hating anyone, whether it be the kid who stole his lunch money a few months ago or the villain from that movie they watched last night.
Leo hugs him tighter. “You’re my favourite person in the whole wide world, Sena! But don’t tell Ruka-tan I said that, ‘kay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Izumi pats him gently on the back, then casts his gaze up to the roof absentmindedly. What he isn’t expecting to see is a streak of light in the sky, followed by another and another. “Hey, look. Shooting stars.”
“What?!” Leo lets go of him immediately, laying flat on his back to stare upwards. “Ah, you were telling the truth! They’re really there! Isn’t this beautiful? Not as beautiful as you, but still!”
Izumi isn’t sure which part of that to address first, but Leo beats him to the punch. Does he ever stop talking?
“Ooh, I should make a wish! Hm, let me think…” He pauses in thought, scrunching up his face the same way he does when he doesn’t understand a question in class. Eventually he lights up, eyes sparkling with a newfound determination. “I wish to be by Sena’s side for the rest of my life! If I’m with him, that’s all I need! Wahaha!”
Really? He’s probably never going to see another shooting star in his life, and that’s what wishes for? Izumi tugs his sleeping bag up to cover his mouth. “...Idiot. It won’t come true now that you’ve said it out.”
As Leo freaks out beside him, Izumi makes a wish of his own.
Let Leo-kun stay this innocent forever.
But one year later, the world goes up in flames.
As it turns out, the stupid one was Izumi.
Aliens are real.
The two of them are plucked right out of their classroom on a Friday, a mere hour before they were supposed to go home. If Izumi had known it would be the last day he’d ever see his mama and papa, he would have hugged them and told them he loved them. Instead, he left without a word that morning—they’d had a late night out together, and he didn’t want to disturb their rest.
He and Leo are placed on the same spaceship alongside the rest of their classmates, their frightened, sobbing, classmates. Izumi tries not to crack as Leo screams and cries and begs for his Ruka-tan, Ruka-tan, where is my little sister?! He can’t bring himself to say what they both know. They’ll likely never see her again. Izumi doesn’t remember much after that. Neither does Leo, or any other child their age they’ve spoken to over the years.
Once upon a time, mankind believed in God and had religion. They believed that things that cannot be solved by human strength are the will of God, believed that the entire universe revolved around the Earth. They thought that the place that connected with the sky, which they could not dare reach, was the place where the Gods lived.
From the moment humanity left the universe, they all forgot God.
Some time passes–whether it was months or years, Izumi has no idea–and one day he’s in a place called Anakt Garden, where they’re made to wear all-white and nothing is as it seems. He has an owner now, some hideous blue-green distortion that he tries not to think too much about. Leo is here too, by some miracle, and the two of them spend their days attending classes and rolling about in fabricated grass. Izumi knows it’s fake because no matter how much time they spend out there, their clothes never show even a hint of dirt. And he hasn’t seen so much as a drop of rain since he arrived.
One day when he’s twelve or thirteen—he isn’t really sure anymore—he finds himself lying in the middle of a shallow pond. He can feel the coolness of it against his skin, but he remains perfectly dry. Just another part of the simulation, he supposes. It’s quiet out here, away from the learning facilities and the other children running and playing. Izumi almost feels comfortable, can almost imagine he’s back home on Earth gazing up at the sky.
Leo once compared Izumi’s eyes to the sky, said that looking in them calmed him down more than looking up at any clear sky would. Leo said a lot of strange things for an eight-year-old. He still does even now, but it lacks the same purity he once had. Izumi tries not to think about it too much.
“Senaaa! There you are!” So much for quiet. Leo comes splashing over to him, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. “Look, look! I wrote another song!”
Leo sits down beside him, waving the paper in his face. Izumi doesn’t bother sitting up. “Quit that. And really? Another one? Shouldn’t you be socialising with the others, or something?”
“Shouldn’t you be socialising?” Leo fires back without missing a beat. “Unlike you, I have friends. You may be pretty but scowling all the time just scares people off, y’know.”
Izumi feels his face flush. “I-I have friends!”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“...I talk to that Kuma kid sometimes. And Naru-kun.”
“Kuma? You’re just making people up now, Sena. And you call me crazy.”
“I’m not crazy!” Izumi finally sits up, finding Leo watching him with a playful grin. “Whatever, Leo-kun. Just show me that song.”
Leo hands him the paper; Izumi can’t read music all too well, but he’s been trying to learn for Leo’s sake. From what he can tell, it’s a slower, more melancholic song than his previous ones. “It’s my fourth one this month,” Leo chimes in. “Mama’s been helping me with the lyrics.”
Izumi doesn’t bother asking who Mama is. He doesn’t need to open that can of worms right now. “This is all you seem to be good for lately, Leo-kun. It’d be better if you actually had a reason to be doing all this, though. What use is a song with no one to sing it?”
Leo pouts—he genuinely pouts, his cheeks puffing out like a child. “I write them for you to sing! But you always turn me down.”
Izumi swirls the water around with his hand. “I can’t sing, Leo-kun.”
“You don’t know that unless you try!” Leo exclaims, grabbing Izumi by the shoulders. He’s got that look in his eyes that means he’s serious about something, the one that sends shivers down Izumi’s spine, through his whole body. “C’mon, Sena, live a little! It’s so dull in here that I can’t take it! You and I could be something.”
And because Izumi is only human, he sighs and says, “...I’ll think about it, okay?”
Then Leo hugs him, knocking them both down into the water. They’re lucky it isn’t wet, otherwise his newly written song would be ruined. Izumi awkwardly returns the embrace–he would never say it out, but he’s forever grateful that Leo is so clingy. He would lose his mind without his touch to ground him.
The next day, the alien that likely runs this place announces that from now until their graduation, they are to take singing and dancing classes. Like an idol, Izumi finds himself thinking. He glances over at Leo, who’s already giving him an expectant grin. How convenient.
Izumi complies, letting them strap him into machines and record his singing attempts, no matter how awful they are. Some others are worse than him, at least. But a select few seem to be naturally gifted at this, such as that Kuma guy, whose name is actually Ritsu. Leo is one of those few, acing all the tests and dazzling the aliens with his raw talent. It irritates Izumi just the slightest. If Leo is so good at all this already, what does he need Izumi for?
As Izumi gradually improves, Leo continues to bring him new songs he’s composed. You’re having singing lessons now, Sena, so there’s no reason for you to reject me anymore! So annoying. Leo’s songs are masterpieces, Izumi will admit, which is exactly why he doesn’t feel worthy of singing them. But the fact that Leo chose him out of everyone makes him feel special. Loved.
Everything makes sense a few months later when all of the children are gathered together to watch something on the television. At least, Izumi thinks it’s a television. It’s called Alien Stage, according to their teacher. A reality show where pet-humans compete against each other through song and dance.
For the first five minutes or so, Izumi is enraptured. It’s something so human, so reminiscent of what his mama and papa used to watch that he can’t bring himself to look away. The way they move, the way their voices each carry such individuality and emotion; it’s stunning. Eventually, the female contestant wins with a total of 56 points to the male’s 41, but before she can even muster a winning smile her features are painted with the blood of her opponent.
It takes a minute for Izumi to process exactly what just happened.
“Isn’t this fantastic, kids? The boy who lost has returned to the Great Anakt, and the winner advances to the next round. This is what we’ve been training for so that someday, that could be you!”
Izumi turns to Leo, hoping to lace their fingers together in an attempt to calm his nerves. Leo, however, is gazing up at the screen with something akin to awe in his eyes.
“Sena, isn’t this great?” he whispers. “I finally found a use for my songs.”
The question of whether that’s really his Leo nags at his mind. There’s nothing human about this at all.
Izumi isn’t sure what ‘humanity’ is anymore.
—
Once all the children in a year group in Anakt Garden turn eighteen, they graduate. It’s eerily similar to a high school graduation, at least from what Izumi remembers. The time has finally come for Izumi and Leo.
“Hey, Sena,” Leo murmurs. “Does this mean we won’t get to see each other every day anymore?”
The two of them are hidden away in an empty classroom, one that was abandoned a few years ago due to faulty wiring or something. Whatever the issue was, it caused the simulation to break and the room to appear as it should; the walls are grey and robotic, with red and green wires running through them like veins. It’s like a scene out of a sci-fi movie. Although Izumi’s been living in one for the past ten years, hasn’t he?
“Yeah, probably. I doubt those aliens will let us out for friendly visits.” Izumi rests his head against Leo’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you.”
“Oh, what’s this? Is Sena being honest about his feelings for once?” Leo elbows him gently, his tone cheeky. “Is this what it takes? Us being ripped apart for all eternity?”
It’s Izumi’s turn to elbow Leo, except harder. “Don’t say that. We’ll still see each other.”
Leo nuzzles closer into Izumi. “I know. I’ll miss you too, y’know?”
“Of course you will. Who else is going to sing the songs you write for me?”
After Alien Stage became a thing, Leo showed the teachers his songs. They absolutely loved them, and since then Leo’s become something of a composer for Anakt Garden graduates who participate. Last year’s winner, a guy named Tenshouin Eichi, won with one of Leo’s songs. Despite this, Leo will still write songs for Izumi’s eyes and Izumi’s eyes only; his most recent one, ‘A Little Sena Izumi’, almost brought him to tears.
“That’s true. No one else sings as well as you do,” Leo muses, tracing his fingers up Izumi’s arm. “I wish we could stay here forever. Just you and I. We don’t need anyone else.”
“Me too,” is all Izumi can think of to say. But Leo deserves more than that, so Izumi takes Leo’s face in both his hands and kisses him. Leo doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, clutching onto Izumi’s arms and pressing himself as close against him as he possibly can. It’s a desperate, messy kiss, but the sentiment is still there. It’s always been there.
“I love you, Sena,” Leo breathes once they’re apart. “Although you probably already knew that. I’m not very subtle, am I? Wahaha!”
“You aren’t, but I like that about you.” Izumi kisses him again, this one less messy and more soft. “I like everything about you. Even if you are a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“You can’t even be nice to me after we’ve just kissed?” Leo asks incredulously. “You really are mean, Sena. Maybe I don’t love you.”
Izumi scowls. “Maybe I’ll break up with you before we’ve even got together.”
“No, Sena, I’m sorry! I take it back! I love you, I really, really love you! Please go out with me!”
“O-Okay, okay, I get it!” Izumi places his hand over Leo’s mouth, his face hot. “It was an empty threat. God, you’re so annoying. Kiss me again.”
And so Leo complies, kissing Izumi again and again and again until their lips are sore and they’re giggling breathlessly. They can’t stay here forever, though, considering their graduation ceremony is in a few hours. But until then, it’s just the two of them. Izumi wishes he could live in this moment.
Five years later, Izumi and Leo audition for Alien Stage.
Each year, national auditions are held. Aliens will enter their pet-humans whether they want to or not. Oddly enough, there are quite a few humans who willingly enter. When it’s time for a contestant to audition, they sing a prepared song for a number of the aliens involved with the production of the show, who decide which contestants are worthy of auditioning in front of the judges. If they pass this, they will then wait to be called up to perform for the panel of judges. After a brief interview, they sing a short part of their chosen song for the judges. The judges will vote: at least three of the four must give the contestant a “yes” for them to proceed to the competition.
The day after Leo turns twenty-three, both he and Izumi receive the news that they passed the auditions.
Neither of them are particularly enthusiastic about it, but they’ve known it was inevitable since the day the world was introduced to Alien Stage. They’re lucky they lasted this long. At least five people they grew up with in Anakt Garden participated last year, and only one walked away.
Izumi’s owner is bursting with excitement when he gives it the news, scrambling to brag to all its friends that its pet will be participating in the hottest show of the decade. Izumi eats well that night and the rest of the nights after that. He’s being treated with the utmost care; if he is to win, he must be in the best shape. In the three weeks since they received their passes, he hasn’t seen Leo, but maybe that’s for the best. After all, there can only be one winner.
“Izumi!” One week before the show begins, his owner lets itself into his room holding a box and a piece of technology that resembles a phone. “Your outfit has arrived. Oh, and they announced the matchups. You’re in the first round against that ginger shrimp, Tsukinaga Leo.”
Izumi’s heart stops.
“Now, I know you have an attachment to that one, but if you want to win you need to forget all about that. Of course, returning to the Great Anakt is a lovely thing as well, but wouldn’t you love to see your name in lights?”
But Izumi isn’t listening. He can’t hear anything over the ringing of his ears, the pounding of his heart. Leo? His Leo? In the first round? Izumi might faint. His hands shake, and he vaguely registers the taste of bile at the back of his throat. This can’t be happening. Yes, he went into this expecting to have to go against Leo at some point, but he’d assumed in the finals, not the very first round. He can’t move. He can’t breathe.
Izumi isn’t sure how long he sits there like that, but by the time he comes around, he is alone again. Slowly, he takes a few deep breaths, reaching for a glass of cold water he doesn’t remember having before. Once he’s stopped trembling, he tries to gather his thoughts. He and Leo will sing to the death in round one. In just one week, he will either be robbed of life or robbed of his reason to live. Both are terrible options. But deciding what will happen isn’t difficult.
Izumi will lose, and Leo will win.
That night, Izumi sneaks out of the house. It’s something he does very rarely for fear of facing punishment, but with just one week left until Alien Stage begins, he knows his owner wouldn’t dare harm a hair on his head. Carefully, he makes his way to the house Leo lives in, a much smaller one than Izumi’s. He taps three times on the window of Leo’s room, and when that doesn’t work he simply slides it open. Leo has a bad habit of forgetting to lock it.
“Leo-kun?” Izumi whispers into the dark, treading carefully across the floor to not crumple any of the papers scattered across the floor. He comes across Leo sprawled across the floor at the foot of his bed, scribbling something in a notebook. Izumi kicks him gently. “Oi, Leo-kun.”
Leo whips around like a startled animal. Immediately Izumi registers the swelling of his right cheek, the cut just beneath his eye. He inhales sharply, crouching down so he’s level with the ginger. He cups Leo’s face in his hand, tracing along the cut ever so tenderly. “What did you do this time?”
“...Nothing,” Leo mumbles, leaning into the touch. “I just said I didn’t wanna go against you already. I may have yelled a little.”
“Idiot,” Izumi says, but he doesn’t mean it. “There’s nothing we can do about it. What’s done is done.”
“I know. I know that.” Leo places his hand over Izumi’s. His hands are much rougher than the model’s well-kept ones from years of composing and Leo’s teeth digging into them during times of stress. Izumi loves them anyway. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be okay with it.”
Izumi stays for a couple of hours. The two of them don’t say much with their words, instead choosing to let their bodies do the talking. Today is the last time Izumi gets to hold Leo in his arms like this. The last time he gets to feel his warmth against his skin, to taste him on his lips and worship every inch of his body. Fate is a cruel thing, Izumi has learned.
Eventually, the sun begins to dip below the horizon, and Izumi has to go. He expects Leo to beg him to stay just a little longer like he usually would, but it never comes. Instead, Leo hands him a sheet of music. “This is our song. We’re going to sing together.”
“…Thank you, Leo-kun.” Izumi folds it carefully and tucks it into his pocket. He’ll read it when he’s alone. “I’ll see you on stage.”
Before Izumi can exit out of the window, though, Leo grabs his hand. “Wait, Sena.” His expression is firm, and a shiver runs down Izumi’s spine. “Promise me one thing. Don’t throw the match for my sake. Let’s duel with all we’ve got, yeah?”
Izumi’s words catch at the back of his throat. Of course Leo would say that.
“I-I promise,” he says, but it’s a lie.
The next week flies by. He has a series of interviews and photoshoots lined up, but Leo isn’t present at any of them. Izumi assumes he has his own separate ones he’s preoccupied with. When the day comes, Izumi is so nervous he can’t bring himself to eat anything. His owner delivers him to the area, wishing him luck and telling him not to let it down. Izumi says that he’ll do his best.
He’s whisked to the area below the stage and finally, there is Leo. He’s having his makeup done and when he sees Izumi enter, he has to be held back to prevent him from running over to greet him. Izumi swallows down his fears and waves with a faint smile before heading into the dressing room.
He changes into his outfit, a gorgeous black suit with gold accents and a red shirt underneath. It fits him rather well. It’s a shame he only gets to wear it once. Leo’s, on the other hand, is all white save for a hint of blue the same shade as Izumi’s eyes. He has two golden flowers on his chest, the same flowers as the artificial ones found in Anakt Garden.
“What do you think, Sena? It suits me, right?” Leo asks, eyes glimmering with a hint of joy. They’re standing on the stage below the arena, a timer somewhere in the distance counting down to their impending doom.
“Yeah. You look amazing.” Izumi smiles. There’s no room for his cold attitude today. “They’re going to love you.”
“It’s thanks to you that I made it this far, y’know. If you hadn’t been there for me, I would’ve lost my mind years ago. To me, you were the sword that I believed would never break. I clung to you because I was weak and scared. For the previous contestants, my songs were the only weapons they could use,” Leo says. His expression tugs at Izumi’s heartstrings. Izumi wants nothing more than to go back to that night beneath the stars, nobody else in the universe but the two of them.
Leo continues. “I haven’t been looking to get rich quick. I didn’t need fame, large territories, or a crown. The only thing I wished for was to feel secure enough to sleep without shivering when I was alone on cold nights.”
“I’m sorry.” Izumi averts his gaze. “In the end, I was too cold.”
“That’s alright.” Leo takes his chin in between his finger and thumb, tilting his head up so their eyes meet. “I’m the one who knew that yet still chose to embrace you.”
Then he kisses Izumi, a soft, lingering kiss that tastes like goodbye.
“Sena.” Leo pulls away. His smile is just as innocent as the day they first met. “Don’t hold back, ‘kay? Give it your all.”
Izumi returns his smile, ignoring the aching in his chest. “You too, yeah?”
The stage jolts to life, and they begin their rise to the end. Leo moves to stand beside him, adjusting his mic. In Izumi’s eyes, he is the most beautiful thing, with his twilight hair and tiny frame and viridescent eyes. Not one day did he ever stop being the Leo he met as a child. That is one thing Izumi will admit to being wrong about. To lose Leo would be to lose life itself. Which is why Izumi has prepared himself for this very day, when he will return to the Great Anakt.
“Hey, wait.” Izumi raises his voice to be heard over the whirling mechanics of the stage, but Leo doesn’t turn his way. “Leo-kun, I lo—”
Before he can finish his sentence, the stage finishes its ascent and he’s met with the roaring screams and blinding lights of the crowd. Izumi feels the pressure building in his chest, reaching up to hold his mic with trembling hands. He hears the music start, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself as Leo starts to sing.
“Suddenly... the gentle wind flutters your hair
As if... beckoning to me to come closer,”
Shit. Leo’s voice is wavering, and Izumi can see the spectators leaning in to whisper to each other already. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
“I know I would never be forgiven, but my heart is in disarray...
From the vessel of my loyalty to you
Ah... it spills,”
Thankfully Leo seems to have calmed down, his voice now as charming and smooth as usual. Izumi could listen to him sing forever. It’s the best thing he could ask to hear in his last moments.
“(Dear Moon Light)
Don't shine your light upon me,”
Izumi’s voice comes out steady, covering for his shaky hands. Izumi can feel the heavy weight of the spotlight hanging over him. He hates it a lot more than he ever thought he would.
“(Moon Light)
Because I will disappear,”
He doesn’t dare to look over at Leo. If Izumi focuses his attention on the crowd, perhaps he can allow himself to imagine he is simply an idol enjoying his youth rather than a man about to die on some sick television program.
“I wear the pitch black night.
I want to protect you like a shadow nestled close,”
Izumi can feel Leo’s gaze on him, but he refuses to meet it. Not yet.
“A "Silent Oath" here in an eternity of purity
Never being expressed... these words hidden in my heart,”
The two of them sing in unison, surprising the audience. They lean into it relatively fast, though, their cheers growing louder.
“Together with this sword I have offered to you, this key I have locked myself with
Is a proud and painful oath,”
Izumi is scared. He doesn’t want the song to end.
“You, who are suited to an eternity of purity
Your soft smile... it moves my heart because,”
Leo is too good a composer. Who allowed him to write a song that tugs at Izumi’s heartstrings like this? Even during rehearsal Izumi found it hard to look at Leo when this is how feels about him.
“The key I threw into the moon's reflection created ripples
These faint emotions I have stowed away,”
Unable to maintain his brave facade any longer, Izumi glances over at Leo. Oh, how he loves him so. Regardless of these conditions, he manages to sing with such ardour. When Leo would sing for Izumi in Anakt Garden, Izumi could easily tell how much the craft meant to him. Even though he never said it out loud, it always made him want to sing along. Being able to sing on stage together is a dream come true, despite everything.
“As time passes…”
Leo’s last solo line echoes throughout the arena.
“For now…”
Izumi wishes he could be seven again. Life was easier then. He misses his mama and papa, he misses his bedroom, and he misses being able to live without fear. He misses thinking he’d get to spend eternity with his best friend, the two of them happy and giggling as they discussed childish plans for the future. Leo would be an astronaut, and Izumi would continue his modelling until he was recognised as the most beautiful in the universe. In a twisted way, he supposes those dreams came true.
“I'll bear them forever... The light reflected in your eyes…”
Izumi doesn’t want to die. He wants to live on by Leo’s side. He doesn’t want to betray his trust. But what must be done must be done.
“Only this proud and painful oath, forever…”
The two of them finally lock eyes. Izumi smiles; If these are to be his last moments, he wants Leo’s last memory of his face to be as beautiful as he always is. To his delight, Leo smiles as well. Words cannot describe how much Izumi loves Leo’s smile.
But Leo’s smile is gone within seconds. So is Izumi’s, replaced by a splatter of warm liquid across his face.
He watches in horror as Leo drops to the ground, lifeless, dead, gone. How could this be? A glance at the scoreboard tells him that Izumi is the victor with a score of 87 to Leo’s 86. It was so close. So unfair.
Izumi can do nothing but stare hopelessly at Leo’s body, at the red staining the white outfit that he seemed so happy with. His blood tastes bitter on Izumi’s tongue. The deafening cheers of the crowd make him want to crush every last soul there. How dare they find joy in the death of the one being Izumi had left to believe in?
Once upon a time, mankind believed in God and had religion. They believed that things that cannot be solved by human strength are the will of God, believed that the entire universe revolved around the Earth. They thought that the place that connected with the sky, which they could not dare reach, was the place where the Gods lived.
From the moment humanity left the universe, they all forgot God. But if belief in God is human, if all Izumi can do as a human is to believe… His God, his universe, is…
...dead at his feet.
Faintly he registers the robot guards clicking his collar back into place. Another one comes along to drag Leo’s body off the stage, and all Izumi can do is watch. Watch as the love of his life is hauled away forever. He’s never going to see his smile again. Never going to hear his laugh or feel his touch again.
Izumi had been fully prepared to die.
What he had not prepared himself for was his existence without Leo.
He thinks back to all those years ago, when the two of them wished upon shooting stars. Leo’s one came true, it seems. Good for him.