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[Look at who's back! Jaime adjusts the angle a little before appearing on camera. He hasn't been gone long enough to age any more than he has living in Heropa, which means that the only tangible change is that he's looking awfully tired... but that could just as easily be because he's facing finals back home. Either way, he's offering the screen a little smile.]

Hey, everyone. I'm back... and it looks like I've missed Thanksgiving too. Which means it's a good time to say thank you. I, um, saw that post that Wally made once I went missing, and you guys said a lot of nice things. So thank you, it meant a lot to me, and I'll have to do my best to live up to all that. I'm thankful for you guys too, y'know?

[Like Wally predicted, he definitely cried. A lot. It was a mess. He coughs into one hand, looking slightly embarrassed for having had to openly confront all those nice things, so he's quick to move on.]

Anyway, does anyone else here think we hafta just stop trying to keep track of our age when we keep getting Ported in and out like that? 'Cause I dunno about you, but I have no idea how old I'm supposed to be anymore. I'm just graduating grade 11 back home, but here, I'm taking college classes.

I say we give it up and I can just start going by twenty-one.

[ SENT AS A TEXT MESSAGE TO ALL HIS CLOSE CR PRIOR TO THIS POST: ]

I'm back now. Sorry I took so long.

[ ooc: to anyone who wants to thread out returns or anything else, please hit me up and I'll write a starter for us at my open log! Or you can drop a starter there yourselves -- either one works! ]

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[Hiro didn't have to say a thing. As far as anyone who knows is concerned, this is more or less Tadashi coming back from the dead, even if he didn't die back home. The result is more or less the same.

That said, he's quick to make his way over to the cafe. The bell jingles upon his arrival, and instead of yelling out - he doesn't want to be that guy who charges into Cass' cafe yelling just because it's more convenient for him - he just looks around the place.

He'll find Tadashi eventually. He's not that hard to miss.]

[He hears the door, takes a quick peek over the railing and - yep, there's Jaime.

He leans over the top rail, arms hanging over. He's tired, he's already getting worn out from people seeing him again and going through the song and dance, exhausted from the emotions involved. But people need to see him, need to see he's (mostly) okay despite the obvious.]

Jaime! Up here.

Tadashi!

[Tadashi's dead - not that Jaime knows it for a fact - and Jaime's carrying his dead friend around in his spine. It's kind of a rough time all round, but for now, he's content in just making his way upstairs and giving Tadashi a big hug. He's got to stand on the balls of his feet to do it, but that's okay -- for now, he'll lay off the wisecracks.]

Dude, I'm so glad that you came back. I'm glad we both came back!

Hey-- [Oof and a hug. Tadashi can't even help but smile and hug back, gives a reassuring squeeze.]

Yeah, I got your card. Stopped by your place to say hi and you were gone too.

[And he'd sat alone in that house anyway, soaking up the quiet while he had the chance before going to his own house next door. But he's glad all the same; Jaime not finding him until now gave Tadashi some time to settle into the idea of being dead, of having these new physical reminders of it.]

Glad you're back too.

Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Crappy timing, [Jaime says, as if him going back home was just a requested sabbatical, not something beyond the control of any person here. It's not as if Tadashi doesn't know that already. All of their lives are controlled by the whims of the Porter... some of their lives moreso than the others.

Jaime leans releases Tadashi from the hug, eyes searching his face as if he'd be able to find answers just by looking at him. He wishes he could. If Tadashi did go back just to die, he probably doesn't need to talk about it, not now.

And despite it all, Jaime's still got hope. Bart got ported out twice without having to go home. It could have happened to Tadashi too. But even through his hope, he keeps an iron control on his expression, prepared for the disappointment this time, because Tadashi doesn't deserve to have someone fall apart on him.]

...did you wind up going back home too?

Hey, not your fault.

[He gives a last squeeze before Jaime pulls away, leaves a hand resting on his shoulder. The burn scars are there, from the hands up past his sleeves and just inching above the neckline - all the signs of someone who died the way Tadashi had been afraid of.

But even he can't help ducking his head at the question.]

Yeah, I-- I did. Just a little while.

[Just long enough.]

[Jaime's eyes travel along the burn scars that he sees now - stupid, how did he not notice those any sooner? - but aside from that, he has the good grace not to react much. In the privacy of his own home, he'll be able to actually mull over the reality of one dead friend, but Tadashi deserves the courtesy of not having people fall apart on top of him every time they see him. Jaime can't do much, but he can at least do that. Instead, he just breathes in real deep through his nose, exhales through his mouth, and nods.]

Yeah. I gotcha.

[He'd been preparing for this eventuality anyway. They all had. He looks up, looks Tadashi in the eye.]

Anything you need, man? A couch to crash on, or -- or marathoning a bad TV show or whatever counts.

[He was waiting for it - for the looks and glances, the gradual change in expression and tone. For Jaime's thoughts to catch up to the reality that he's dead Tadashi died.

Thankfully, Jaime's better at it than most of their friends.]

Maybe this weekend? I could really use some time like that.

[Time to just be. Sit and just enjoy someone's company without a lot of thought happening beyond what's in front of him. Normally Magicman is good for that too, but there's a heaviness there now since he looked after Hiro so closely in his absence.]

Thanks for the card you left, by the way.

You got it. [Jaime takes a deep breath, and even if his eyes are a little sad, he smiles. They can't treat Tadashi delicately as they might want to, like he's just a ghost wandering among them. Jaime's had enough dead friends to realize that that approach just makes things worse.

Dead or alive, Tadashi is his friend. In the end, not that much had changed.] Just don't pull out Mario Kart if you want to relax, because I'll whoop your ass.

[He shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking the bulk of his weight back on his heels as Tadashi thanks him for the card, and he nods.] Yeah, no problem. I'm glad I left it before I got ported out. I knew you'd be coming back anyway.

[No. He didn't know. But without hope, they're nothing.]

Oh, I'm sure you could. Never was any good at that one.

[Once Jaime steps back, Tadashi does as well. Casts a glance over the railing down at the rest of the cafe. It's nice, being back here. But those few minutes back home sparked his homesickness for the real cafe, his real home.

But this was home now, wasn't it? He had nowhere else to go.]

I think a few others felt the same way. That I'd be coming back, I mean.

I know they did. Once I went into your room to leave my note, I found, like, a gazillion more. You're the most popular guy in town. Nobody left me all those notes, [Jaime says, but there's a gentleness to the joke, and he is joking. People left Tadashi notes, because they knew if he wasn't coming back, that was it for him. They all needed to do something, to have some sort of tangible manifestation of their belief that Tadashi would come back to them to at least be alive here, if not back home.]

That's one thing you've got going for you here, huh? You've got about five thousand friends here. It, uh... it must have been kinda overwhelming, once you got back.

Hah! Yeah, there is that. And being alive. Have that going here too.

[It's the closest thing to bittersweet Tadashi gets. Acknowledging this place as the only reason he gets to continue to exist. He leans against the railing and slides back down to sitting on the floor.]

It still is overwhelming. Didn't realize that many people... ['Cared'. The word he's not sure if he should say is 'care'.]

Being alive's probably the best part, [Jaime acknowledges. There are a lot of words he's avoided saying; dead, alive, burned, scars... it doesn't seem right pushing it on Tadashi. But if he's the one to bring it up, Jaime's not going to complain. It's probably better for him to be able to address it head-on, as painful as it is.

As Tadashi slides to sit down, Jaime sits down across from him, cross-legged. It makes him feel oddly young, perched cross-legged in the home of one of his friends' mothers, as absurd as it is to feel such a way after he and Tadashi have both lost so much.]

What, cared? [Jaime eyes Tadashi with palpable confusion.] Why not?

[Jaime finishes his thought for him, and Tadashi watches with apt interest.]

Well... [And now is when Tadashi gets nervous, picks at a loose thread on his sleeve.] There are a lot of us here, you know? Other imports that don't have anything to go back to.

[He doesn't get what makes him special about it. Or why anyone would care outside his family and home world friends. Not for something that so may others deal with already.]

[Okay. This is bizarre. Jaime's spent a lot of time bolstering others' self-esteem, and it's something he's used to doing. You're doing okay, he's told people. People love you even if you make mistakes. We care about you when you're not around. You're loved.

He's never felt the particular need to tell Tadashi such a thing. He's showed his affection for him in a plethora of different ways, reaching out to him when shit hit the fan, inviting him over, even just teasing the heck out of him. But mostly, he didn't think that Tadashi was unaware of it. How could he be? He has a tight group of friends back home, a doting aunt, a younger brother that loves him more than life itself, and his circle of friends just keeps on expanding and expanding.

So this? This is weird. He leans forward a little, the heel of his hand smushing his cheek and making him look like a lopsided chipmunk.]

Okay? But what's that got to do with you?

[He leans his head back, scrubs a hand down his face. He knows his friends care about him. Knows they're like family to him at this point, he wouldn't trade them for anything.

But he can't find the best way to explain this. That he's shocked they care that he died when they're surrounded by others with the same fate, or those that already died, people who are real heroes, doing real good.]

...How many people in this place will go home to the same thing? Or already have?

[He glances at Jaime, exhaustion and bags under his eyes, not trying to hide it from him like he does everyone else.]

I'm one in probably hundreds here.

[And he didn't die for a cause. Didn't die a hero. Didn't die saving anyone. His death was pointless.]

Okay?

[Jaime still doesn't get it. That's like saying that it's weird that someone you know and love will die makes you sad when there are, oh, he doesn't know... dying children in Africa? Sure, the latter is sad, but it means a heck of a lot more if it's one of your people.]

Why does being one in a hundred make you any less special than anyone else?

[God, he can't-- He can't explain this properly. Too many things rattling around in his head and every time he catches a glimpse of himself, he starts and remembers what happened and his mind goes through a loop all over again.

He just sounds tired when he speaks again. Quiet. Keeps his voice low so it doesn't carry to the rest of the cafe below them.]

There are other people who need help too. Have more time than I did, I was supposed to be working to help them too.

Okay, but --

[Jaime looks at Tadashi with a furrowed brow, genuinely trying to understand exactly where Tadashi's coming from. Maybe he sounds tired and quiet, maybe Jaime should just drop it, but right now? Tadashi can deal. It'll be worth it if he can get to the bottom of this and drum some self-worth into that stupid skull of his. Where the heck does that kind of low self-esteem even come from?

He gets it from a guy like Minato, juggled from trauma to trauma, but Tadashi's not like Minato. He has friends, and a family. That should mean something.]

You know we're actually capable of caring about more than one person at a time, right?

[Well usually it comes from dying and knowing one died for literally nothing.

He runs a hand through his hair, tries not to sound frustrated. Because he knows, knew all along, no matter how much he did, how far along he and Wally got with their work, there wasn't anything they could do. He was a lost cause. But people still worried and fretted over him when they could have spent more time on others who had a better chance.

He takes a deep breath, leans his head back.]

I know. I know, Jaime.

[He glances back to him, fingers idly rubbing against the scars along one arm.]

Thought I was doing something right.

[Tadashi's saying I know, but Jaime's not buying it, not if he's surprised that people care. It's real easy to brush things like this off like it's nothing, to pay lip service to it, but it's another thing entirely to believe it.

If Tadashi doesn't believe it after everything everyone's been through, one conversation isn't going to change anything. Still, obstinately, he can't help but add on,]

We care about you 'cause of you. We'd care about you no matter what, man, no matter what you were doing, or what was gonna happen. Nothing's gonna change that.

[Jaime frowns down at the ground in front of him.]

...What'd you think you were doing right?

[A tough question; he thought Jaime knew the story but maybe he was still missing pieces.]

I thought I was helping someone important to me. [He starts picking idly at the hem of his shirt sleeve.] And it turns out they didn't need my help.

[And in the end, it got him killed and his brother alone. It was stupid, in the end. Trying to be a hero.]

Oh. Yeah. That.

[Jaime looks down at the ground, because really, what is there to say to something like that? Sorry that the guy you tried to give your life for is a grade-A douchebag who was responsible for your death?]

You couldn't have known, man. That doesn't make it any better, or any more fair, I know, but... that's not on you.

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