G'sVSCH 22: Six Strange Days Pt 3

I decided to test out my strength. I started doing push-ups. Shu Shu, Rockhopper, and Agent all thought that gave them permission to hop on. After a while I felt myself begin to float again, so I tried to have Paige weigh me down. Needless to say, Herbert came in and thought I was pushing myself too much, even though he knows I'm undead. He helped me upright, and that's when I noticed his white roots.
"Herbert? How old are you?"
"Right around your age," he replies. "Why?"
I open my mouth to speak, but don't want to out-right say that his hair is turning so white the snow is envious of it, so I just tell him, "Go look in the mirror."
Herbert looks confused, but retreats to the bathroom. I, in the meantime, turn to Paige. "Have you been doing your homework?" I ask.
"Cats are generally pregnant for 64 days, which is usually 9 or 10 weeks. Shu Shu's litter will be - "
"NOOOOO!"
We're silent for a moment after. " - here any day now," she concludes.
"Good, good. Now I have to go in and see what the fuss is about." I leave her and her cats and head down the hall, calling, "Herbert, what seems to be the problem?" I get to the bathroom and see him standing in front of the mirror, slowly parting his hair and exposing even more blond-going-white strands.
"Early aging?" I ask.
"No," he sighs glumly. "Genetics."
I let myself into the room and stroke his hair, getting a better look at the strands. "I don't think it looks bad," I offer. "You'd look pretty kickin' with white hair."
"'Pretty kickin'?" he echoes. It seems to cheer him up ever so slightly, but every little bit helps. "No, it's embarrassing. Albinoism. I was hoping I had just imagined you mentioning it last week."
"I know how you feel to be embarrassed about your hair color," I assure him.
"No, you don't. You've always been so confident about it."
I set my hand on his shoulder. "Herbert, you're talking to a man, between six and seven feet tall, who has grey eyes, long black nails, grey skin, permanent dark circles under his eyes, and blue hair. I think some of that is more embarrassing than white hair and red or blue eyes."
"Your hair is blue? I always thought you dyed it."
I sigh a little. Everyone and his mother thinks that. "Nope. It's blue. It darkened quite a bit after I died though."
"Can I touch it?" he asks, extending his arm before I have time to answer.
"I'd rather you not," I tell him, ducking slightly as he approaches. "Nope!"
He begins to tousle my hair a bit, and I try to shrink away. To my delight though, I see him smile. "I want to touch it!"
"You've felt it before!"
"I want to touch it!" He finally manages to stroke my hair. "So soft!"
"There you've touched it!" I say, trying to brush it back into place.
He smiles. "I feel a little bit better now." He sighs and turns to the mirror. "I still wish I had dye."
I place my hand on his shoulder and smile. "Why don't you go out to get some?"
For a moment, Herbert is silent. Then he looks up at me. "Do you want to go with me?"
I look at him, confused. "I guess. Why not?"
He smiles broadly. "Maybe we can get you into something else so you look less suspicious when you go out."
I force a slight smile. "Sure." To be honest, I don't want my robe to be taken from me. Granted, I look suspicious in every sense of the word - I'm a man between six and seven feet tall, who has grey eyes, long black nails, grey skin, permanent dark circles under his eyes, and blue hair - but maybe the robe would call more attention than I all ready want.
"Okay then!" he declares, slapping me on the back. "We'll go out later today. Won't that be fun?"
I sigh. "I guess. I never liked shopping much."
"Well don't worry!" he assures me. "I promise I'll make it fun!"
"All right then." I shake my head slightly. "I won't like it."
"Hang on a second!" he objects, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me to his room. I hurry back behind him, hanging onto his hand. "We gotta get you something so you don't stick out too much!"
"Oh crap you're not gonna stick me in your head-to-toe white, are you?"
He opens the door to his room and hurries to the dresser, ripping it open and leafing through mangled piles of shirts and pants. "No, but you'd look cuuuuuoooool in it!"
"'Cuuuuooool'?"
He holds up a black long-sleeved button-down collared shirt. It's wrinkled, but he tosses it onto the bed anyway. "Y-Yeah, I-I mean, like, cool but with K-E-W. Like, um, 'Yeah that's so kewl!' You stretch out the ew a bit. Like, imagine seeing a squished-up spider and you go 'Ew!' but really exaggerate it and - "
"I understand, I understand. Don't worry." I know what you wanted to say. I know you wanted to say it.
"Okay, okay. Cool."
"Don't you mean 'kewl'?"
He snickers slightly. "Hush." He pulls up a pair of jeans and tosses it onto the bed. "God - "
I moan.
"Sorry, sorry. Oh my Good-Golly-Gosh you'll look good."
I pick up the jeans and unravel them, shaking them and seeing a black sock with red and green diamond stitching and a plain white sock, along with a pair of plaid pair of boxers. I don't know how I feel about putting on another man's underwear, but . . . well, everything that has happened before.
"Go on," he tells me. He turns around and faces the mirror, which, luckily, does not show me.
I wait a second before awkwardly pulling my robe off. I pull the boxers on, then look at the socks. I don't want to wear mismatched socks. I know I'm just being picky, but it'll bug me all night. I pick up both socks and return to the dresser, setting them on the top, and then I begin to sift through the clothes. I happen to glance up once in a while, seeing Herbert's eyes focused a little bit lower, let's say.
"Do you even know if these have mates?"
"They're uh . . . " Silence. "They're probably in there somewhere."
I continue to dig until I finally find another black sock. I slip them both on then add the jeans.  "Yep, there it is."
"You do look good," he mutters.
I slip the shirt on and begin to button it up. "I do," I agree with a smile.
He turns to the closet then pulls out a pair of shoes and a grey vest. "Here, I have something else. We need something to put on your feet."
I begin to slip the shoes on while he adjusts the vest and collar. "You look great!" he exclaims.
I look down, staring at my chest down to my feet. "What? No fedora, scarf, wristwatch, or wristbands? You're not gonna make me roll up the elbow and strike a sassy pose?"
"Only if I can model with you. I could wear something similar, or something to play off of yours."
I sigh and shake my head slightly. "The vest is a little much, don't you think?"
He sighs and takes it off. "I guess you're right." He shakes his head a little. "But still, you'd look so cu-kewl."
"I think we should bury kewl. We can stick with cool or cute, but not kewl."
His cheeks go a little pink. "Okay," he sighs. But he doesn't look embarrassed. He does look shy, but there's something negative there: regret.
"What's wrong?" I ask, showing that I want to help.
"It's nothing, I swear."
His eyes begin to water a little bit. I sigh and rest my hand on his shoulder, then let it brush up his neck and onto his cheek. He too sighs then closes his eyes, slightly nuzzling my hand as he does so. "Proto was a bit of an enthusiast when it came to this kind of thing."
I move a little closer, keeping my hand on his cheek. I stroke the side of his head with my right hand, pulling my fingers through his hair. I look at his lightly colored eyelashes as they close around his icy blue eyes. How strange I'm just now noticing how attractive he is. It's also ironic, too. His eyes are so cold like ice crystals. I could probably write a really deep poem about them. His hair, too; the natural color is white. He hates cold weather, but it's as if he's the embodiment of winter. I have a bit of surprise when I see that the tear is not a snowflake. I stroke it away slowly with my thumb. "It's okay," I whisper.
"I miss him," he chokes, trying not to cry.
I try to push a little closer, moving my hands to his shoulders, but he pulls away. I take a step closer, and he takes a step back.
"I want to be alone right now."
I hesitate. I don't want to just leave him, but I know it's what he wants. I try to move closer, but he takes another step back.
"Hiroto!" he says firmly.
I finally listen to him. I begin to walk out, slowly, and quietly close the door behind me. I hear the bed springs, followed by quiet crying. I shut my eyes and bite my lip, then press my back against the wall. I slowly slide down, letting my right leg go out while my left leg just bends into a forty-five degree angle. Why do I feel like this? I'm not supposed to have this feeling. It's not . . . it's not right. After all he's done for me, no, this isn't right. I press my head against the wall and sigh. It's not right. It's not right. It's not right. It'll never be right. It will never be right.
I get up quickly and hurry - as quietly as I can manage - to the door. Paige must be in her room, or maybe she's out with K again. Oh well. If she's in her room, one less thing I have to worry about for the time being.
I bury my hands in my pocket and feel myself begin to slouch, picking up the pace. I move through the hall, turn past the kitchen, go through the living room, and usher myself out the door. I half slam it, unintentionally, and trudge through the snow around the cave. The pass between the cave itself and the cliff is narrow, but right by where Herbert has an old locked off room is a bit of an indentation. There's just enough room for me. I push my way in and sit, dangling my legs over the side of the cliff. And I let out a groan.
"Why do you confuse me?" I call into the emptiness. "WHY DO YOU CONFUSE ME! WHY!"
I stare down, looking at the trees and rocks below me. It would be so easy, just letting go and falling. It'd be quick, it'd be relatively painless, it'd be over. It would also look like an accident. He was just passing by and he slipped.
My eyes begin to burn. A single tear escapes my eye. It falls, isolated, and just keeps going. Why do I have to be like this? So sensitive. Why can't I ever just cheer up and stay that way?
*
Herbert didn't come out of his room until now. It's 5:30 and all ready the sky is turning its usual pink and blue hues with a few purple clouds. The twilight is really pretty, but I don't want to be walking back when it's so dark we literally have to hug the trees to avoid falling off the cliff.
Paige left a little bit ago to K's. Why isn't she satisfied here? She called a few minutes ago to say that she wasn't going to be home before dark so she asked if she could just stay the night. It really bugs me for some reason but I can't put my finger on it; I just don't trust any of this.
Needless to say I am still pretty on edge.
"So, um . . . Are you ready?" Herbert asks, putting on a thick vest lined with some kind of fluffy - something. Wool, maybe.
"Yeah," I answer bluntly, getting up and heading to the door.
"Wait!"
I stop and turn around. He's all ready right behind me, holding a black leather jacket. "That for me?" I ask, rather stupidly if you ask me.
"Yeah. It's cold out. People wear coats or jackets when it's cold." He slips the jacket over my arms and onto my shoulders. "I just want you to blend in better."
I just accept it, shrugging and heading out. "Okay."
He sighs slightly and follows behind. The way he follows though, it's as if he's unsure of whether he should stay behind me or be right next to me. After I close the door, I can hear his feet crunching the snow. It picks up, crunch crunch crunch, but then goes slow, c-r-u-n-c-h c-r-u-n-c-h c-r-u-n-c-h. I can see him in my peripheral vision when he speeds up, but then he vanishes and falls a few paces behind moments later. His stride is so unconfident.
"Hey," he begins, finally speeding up to be on my left.
"What? Am I walking too fast?"
"No, it's not that, it's just - " He falls behind again, running up to my right. "I just want to say sorry for earlier."
I turn my head to face him. "Eh?"
"Yeah. It was . . . you know, it just felt like it was really rude of me."
I feel as though I'm blushing, but I don't know if I am or not. I just look forward and reply, "I guess."
He goes ahead, turning his head to face me. "You tried to comfort me and I pushed you away, that's really rude of me."
I glance over at him, seeing a supportive smile on his face.
I sigh. Internally, I am screaming. I want to run away right now, but I don't know why. I just want to leave, go away and never come home. I want to stop screaming, but I know I need to stay here. I need to do it for her, I need to do it for him. Mainly for her though. You know, she's really important and he and I aren't right.
But then something changes.
Herbert walks right next to me, so close his shoulder is almost rubbing against mine. I resist the urge to look at him. That'd be awkward. I don't want to feel awkward. I know how it would go. I'd look into his eyes, unintentionally, and get that feeling. I don't want the feeling, I want to feel nothing for him.
But after a while of walking, I notice another change.
I don't know for how long this has been going on, but now I am noticing Herbert's hand in mine.
It's not even that, it's not like his hand is wrapped around mine or anything, we're actually holding hands. As in, our fingers are holding our palms together.
He even begins to swing our hands slightly.
I try not to smile, but it wants to come. I mean, he's just so cute! You know, like a . . . um, er, a puppy? Yeah he's just so adorable. I could just eat him up.
"If you wanna smile you can."
"What makes you say I want to smile?" I ask, obviously smiling at this point.
"Because you are!" he explains cheerfully.
"Would you bang another guy if you had the option?"
. . .
Where did that come from?
He gives me a very confused look. "I don't know," he answers slowly. "I mean, I guess. I'm pansexual, so I could with anyone."
I nod, trying to be as casual as possible after a question like that. "Cool."
"How about you?" he asks.
"Well, probably not. I'm straight. At least I think I am." No, no, I am. I am. I know I am. But maybe I'm not. But not for him, that's for sure. I can't be. It's wrong to fall for the person who killed you. I'm sure most people would agree with me on that.
"Do you like boobs?"
"Wow, what a question! Ha ha!" I immediately reply, a bit sarcastically though. For a second, I'm quiet before saying, "No, not really, actually. It's not really something that matters to me."
He snickers slightly and looks at me again. "You do realize that a straight man likes women, right?"
I groan and shove him playfully with my left arm, my right hand still on his. "Yeah, yeah I know. I'm very attracted to two X-es, yeah?"
"I guess I understand, but a Y is one line away from being an X."
I chuckle slightly. "Visually, yes, but biologically, no."
He's quiet. "But did you like pretending to fuck me?"
I playfully respond, "Who says I was pretending?"
He slows down and stops. I keep my hand around his. I turn to face him. "What's up?"
He shakes his head. "Dammit, Hiroto."
I snicker slightly and keep going, pulling him along with me.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough."
"Dammit, Hiroto!"
*
We walk into town, still hand-in-hand, and begin to migrate to our destination. "So you just have to get your dye and that's it, right?"
"Not quite," he replies. "I want to have it dyed and maybe cut slightly, then I'll get some dye, then we can go pick something out for you."
I groan slightly. "Why can't you just keep me in the cave? And why can't I just borrow this for when we go out?"
"Well, if you're going to live forever, we may as well get you something so you don't have to wear the same thing every time you leave. And I doubt you'd want to live the rest of your life just living in the cave."
Oh yeah. Living forever. Huh. I forgot about that. Either that or I just didn't want to accept it. "I don't want to live forever," I tell him. "I'd rather not."
He looks at me curiously. "Why not? What's so wrong with living forever?"
I sigh. I don't want to think about it, but it's the one thing everyone knows. "I don't want to stay the same while everyone around me dies. It would be too much for me to handle."
"But you'd be able to see Paige grow up. You could see her children. Her grandchildren. Great-grandchildren. You could see things that people can only see once in their lifetimes, but you'd see it almost every day. You could go around the world, if you tried hard enough. You could meet people, make friends, help people, you could do so much!"
"Only, I doubt the world would be so happy with someone back from the dead. Especially considering how I need blood to survive."
"You haven't had anything in a while!" he marvels. "Are you sure about that last part?"
"Pretty sure, but you're right. It's possible that it's only a once-in-a-while thing. There are many creatures built so they can survive long periods of time without food."
"Then we'll have to get you food once in a while. I'll buy some for you for as long as I live."
"And I can hunt."
He smiles slightly. "That's the spirit!"
I look up ant notice that we are at the Gift Shop all ready. "Here we are!" I say, opening the door to let him in.
The funny thing about the gift shop is how big it is now. Way back when the island was being visited for skiing, the Gift Shop was opened up. It sold common little trinkets, like snow globes or maybe mittens, but as the island became more popular, the owner could expand. Soon there were shirts, then full outfits, then they hired a designer who designed the clothes for the catalogue. The gift shop itself became a small booth in the front, while the rest began to expand and grow in the back. There were small sections for clothes, one for lotions or soaps or perfumes, one for hair styling, one for shoes, and even one small section for the designer's son, who works alongside his aging father. Now the Gift Shop is more of a mini mall.
"So you're just going to get the dye and a trim and that's it?"
"Yeah, though I don't know how long it's going to take."
I sigh and start heading to the salon. "All right. I'll wait out here. Maybe I'll find something to use to pass the time."
Herbert walks off, heading in the direction of the salon. I smile and shake my head slightly. He has a pretty good looking ass. Wait, what? No, he has . . . a pretty good amount of class. When he wants to, of course. You know, when he's not being so goofy and cute and - no just that, just, just goofy.
I groan and slip my hands in the pockets. Just as I do that, I realize there's something in the pocket. I put my hand in to check to see what it is. 5 coins. Herbert must have left them in his pockets when they went through the wash. At least, I hope they went through the wash. But still. 5 coins. That won't get me far. I put them back in the pocket and start for the gift shop itself.
I look at the collection. There's the usual trinkets, along with snacks, but I need something to use to occupy my time. The only thing really that fits that description is a paddle ball. I get that, only having to give up three coins for it. Pretty inexpensive. I'll pay Herbert back somehow. I retreat to a corner where it's difficult to be seen and begin to paddle.
After a few hits, it becomes apparent that I'm good with a paddle. I hit once, twice, three times, so on and so on. It's actually pretty fun. I keep hitting the ball, and eventually, I lose track of time. I keep counting though. "Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." I drop the ball there. "Aw." Oh well. I wonder how Herbert's coming along.
I get up, paddling once or twice as I walk, and head over to the salon. I peer in and see Herbert, getting his hair dyed. I listen a little and hear, "Yeah, that looks much better."
The stylist, whom I can't tell if they are a man or woman, replies, "Glad you like it."
He's quiet for a second, then he says, "My boyfriend says I'd look good with white hair, but I don't think so."
"Well the important thing is - chin up real quick, honey - that you're comfortable with yourself first. You shouldn't live to please anyone but yourself."
"Yeah," he says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right."
The stylist finishes putting in the dye. "Now we just have to wait for the color to set."
"All right."
Boyfriend, eh?
"Can we help you, Sir?"
I turn to face a woman in her 40's sitting behind the counter.
"Oh, sorry. No, thank you. I'm waiting for someone."
She smiles and gestures, saying, "Well go on back!"
"Thank you," I reply, heading back. I go over slowly, trying not to disturb him too much. "How's it going?"
Herbert glances up at me, startled. "Hiroto!"
The stylist smiles. "This cutie is the one you told me about?"
He nods, smiling and blushing slightly.
I fold my arms and lean against the vanity. "He told you about me, eh?"
The stylist nods. "Says you're built well, a great guy, and other things of that nature."
Herbert looks down at his knees, cheeks a little pink.
I smile and put my hand on his shoulder, slowly walking in front of him and putting my left hand on his right shoulder. "You think I'm built well, eh?" I lean over, stepping back slightly as to better get my face in his. I repeat, this time in a whisper, "You think I'm built well?"
His face is very red now and there are even tears in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but tiny, choked syllables only escape. Instead, he nods.
I brush the tear out of his eye with my thumb. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry."
His face becomes even redder. "I love you so much," he tells me quietly.
I smile and look him in the eyes. He smiles slightly. I can't just abandon him here. "I love you too."
Herbert's face is completely red. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly. I smile and hug back. He takes my face in his hands and has me face him. I know what he wants to do. I smile and feel myself getting closer.
"Can I interrupt you?"
We look up at the stylist. "You don't have a reflection."
I whirl around and see the mirror. Herbert is right there. The stylist is right there. I'm not. "Shit," I mutter. What do I do what do I do what do I do!
"I won't tell!" the stylist assures us. "I won't! I'm not gonna break you two up!"
Herbert heaves a sigh of relief as I thank my lucky stars. "Thank you!" he cries quietly.
"You're welcome," the stylist smiles. "But I recommend he get away from any and all mirrors."
I smile and begin to back off. "It's probably in my best interest to go hide out now," I explain. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Be careful!" they both caution.
I nod and hurry off to the nearest, darkest corner.
*
I started paddle balling again. This time, I'm doing fantastic! "Six-hundred-sixty-three! Six-hundred-sixty-four! Six-hundred-sixty-five! Six-"
"Hiroto!"
"Dammit!" I wrap the ball around the handle aggressively. "Yeah?"
"How does it look?"
I look up at him. First thing I notice is the bag. Probably has some dye in it. Then I look up at his head. His hair looks pretty good, actually. It's quite a bit shorter, and it's all spiked up. I stand up and look at him. Maybe with a bit of blue highlights, the icy look would really be completed, but I know he hates the cold. I shrug slightly and finally reply, "It looks great."
He smiles and asks, "What were you thinking?"
I look down shyly. "Nothing, nothing."
His hand slides under my chin and makes me look up. "C'mon, just tell me!"
I smile. I can't hide anything from him. "Do you want me to be honest?"
"No, lie to me!"
I chuckle. "I thought it would look cool - you know, like, actually cold - if you had blue highlights."
He shakes his head. "Oh no, no no no no no no! You know the old bothers me!"
I smile. "Didn't want to tell you."
He takes his turn to chuckle. "Jerk." He playfully punches me a few times on the shoulder. "You ready to go?"
"YES."
I get up to leave, but he grabs me by the wrist before I can take a step. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asks.
I groan. How I was hoping he'd forget about this . . . "I see you aren't," I sigh.
He smiles somewhat smugly and begins pulling me in the direction of the Men's Department. I shake my head in disgust. I've always hated shopping. I'd buy my shirts, pants, and everything else in bulk to ensure I could go for long periods without having to go shopping again. But no, everything I have is a dead give-away of who I am.
Herbert drags me into the store and begins looking around. "There's bound to be something you'll like!"
I look around too. Let's see, plain shirts everywhere. Tank tops, button-downs, t-shirts, long-sleeved shirts, nothing I care that much about. Herbert immediately grabs a few things he thinks I'd look cute in. Shirts, vests, jeans, scarves, hats, and even a few pairs of shoes are added to the pile. However, it's not too terribly expensive; at least, that's what Herbert says.
"You'll look great, I promise!" he assures me.
I sigh and begin to roll a piece of my shirt between my fingers. I keep thinking about the stylist. That was really nice of him . . . her . . . whatever they would like to be known as . . . to let me go free. I know what K would have done. I shake my head slightly, trying not to think about it. I'd rather not. I'd really rather not.
I unwind the paddle ball and begin to hit the ball back and forth. It really helps to kill the time. Boing, boing, boing, boing . . . Meanwhile, Herbert finally finishes his shopping. I guess I shouldn't be saying finally since it only took a few minutes, but I really hate shopping.
"Are you ready?" he asks, passing off a bag.
I nod gratefully, standing up and slipping my paddle ball into the bag. "Yeah. Are you ready?"
He nods and begins heading out. I smile and go after him. "Let's get out of here!"
He grins and laughs slightly, turning around to face me. "You say that like the building's coming down on top of us."
I hurry to catch up with him. "It may as well be!"
"You're terrible sometimes," he teases.
"I really am," I agree, walking right next to him.
We manage to leave the Gift Shop and get out of town without any problems. We save the conversation for after we get to the start of the cliff.
"Boyfriend, eh?" I ask.
He snickers a little and looks up at me. "You didn't hear that."
I look back at him, holding his gaze. "Yes, yes I did."
He sighs. He holds his breath. He's quiet. "If you heard that, then did you mean what you said?"
"Why?" I  begin. "What did I say?"
He slowly joins me and rests his head on my right shoulder. "You know what you said."
I shake my head, walking at his pace. "No, I don't know."
He giggles and wraps his hand around mine. "You said . . . Well, you told me that you love me . . . "
I happily sigh. He's got me there. "I didn't say that."
He laughs a bit more. "Yes, yes you did."
I laugh slightly and wrap my arm around him, setting my hand on his hip. "If I did say that, then did I mean what I said?"
He stops for a moment.
I walk two more steps, but then stop.
He looks up at me and grins.
"What's up?" I finally ask.
"Hiroto, you jerkass!" He begins coming closer with some kind of intent.
I grip the bags, smiling broadly, and run. I try not to get too far ahead, worried of getting separated - because, who wants to walk home alone at night? - but I keep up a high enough pace to keep it interesting. After a few seconds, I feel like I've gotten too far ahead. I start to slow to turn, but then I feel arms around my shoulders.
"Herbert!"
His legs wrap around my hips, and I try not to fall. Instead, I keep running.
"You bastard, you do love me!"
I laugh a little bit. "I what?"
"You meant it you meant it you meant it!" he teases as I run.
"So what if I did?" I offer, wrapping my arms around my back to support him. I accidentally touch something I shouldn't have, and I was right; he does have a nice ass.
"Oh you know you meant it!"
I can hear the joy in his voice. I know he wants me to admit it. He just wants me to stop running, to spin him to my front, and for me to admit, "Yes, Herbert. I'm sorry I've kept it from you for so long. I do love you, so much. I want to live a happy life with you. I love you so much." and kiss him right here in the cold. But not today. I mean, you know, maybe never, but . . . Yes, never. It can't happen . . . But it can.
And maybe it will.