secondnature | open post (general)

I'm fine. I can handle myself. [The words are almost perfunctory, words that Keith has delivered countless times before to Shiro in the past (before Kerberos came along and ripped him away from Keith's life). He barely realizes he said them.

And then he does. His eyebrows pinch together and he looks at Shiro, a guilty expression blooming on his face.] I mean—we can hold each other up. I think we'll have to. [The initiative there is new. The certainty there is also new. The haze of his mind wars between his older, more prickly self, and his newer self, which is like ... half a cactus full of needles rather than an actual cactus' needles.

Keith draws himself onto the bed the rest of the way, and eases toward Shiro. He grunts in pain, but he finally settles onto the headboard. He then extends his arm, all to help Shiro closer.]

Come on. I think I can catch you up. I just don't want to have to tell you everything twice. [That's a joke. It's just that Keith's delivery will make it very hard to tell that it's a joke—unless Shiro catches the smile on Keith's lips as he patiently readies himself to carry the burden of the both of them right now.]

[ Shiro shouldn't take it personally, but at first, he almost does. It's such a sharp, dismissive statement that he really doesn't know what to do with it because things were always different with Keith. They understood each other and Shiro was able to weather moments like this because they were fewer and further between than with other people and Keith.

Trying to kill someone really puts a dampener on that, he supposes. ]

Alright.

[ It's not, but there's nothing else he can say; he isn't going to argue. Keith hauls himself up and Shiro waits until he settles as comfortably as he can before inching over, touching their shoulders together gingerly. His other arm aches, which is absurd because there's nothing there to hurt, but somehow with that sliced metal and wiring, it's like his body finally picked up that it wasn't there any longer and was making up for lost time.

They're certainly a pair, grunting and moving gingerly like old men. Shiro leans back against the headboard delicately and settles his hand in his lap, glancing over at the joke with a faint twist to his lips. ]

Is this a hotel on Earth, or just...one on a planet that really managed the 'weird hotel in the middle of nowhere' look?

[No matter the person, Keith hasn't always been the best at reading someone. He's always been marginally better at Shiro, though. Exposure does that. He doesn't get it here, though. He doesn't see where he's hurt him, where that side of him lashing out because he's tired and exhausted and still in emotional pain over what's happened ... is there. He has an idea. He walked it back. But he doesn't see that the sting persists.]

We're back home. [The same warmth from before seeps into his voice now. His attachment to Earth had always been shaky. All he had was Shiro, and then Shiro was gone, and then he had nothing, so—well. There are a lot of reasons why he didn't hesitate once Shiro was game to be a paladin. They weren't just about Shiro himself.

That perspective has changed. His mom's helped. He knows that once he's doing better, they'll have to see his father's grave. It's a hard thing to know. It could be worse. They're finally going there together.]

We didn't have the resources to make it, so we called in some favors. You're lucky. You missed Slav. [Keith missed Slav, too, for the most part.] The Coalition banded together to get us here as soon as we could.

[Oh. He didn't start at the beginning. Apparently he has that trait from his mom. So, he adds:]

It's because—we had to give up the Castle Ship. It was the only way to stop what Lotor did to the fabric of reality. The only way to save all the different universes. Pidge's dad has the blueprints for a new ship. I guess. [He looks tired, partly because there is some technical jumble that would go here and he just ... didn't parse out enough of it to really reiterate it. Oh well.]

[ Home.

Shiro doesn't have the same tenuous relationship with home that Keith does; he has family here, people he cares about and wants to see, wants to protect. He'll have to figure out how to deal with that and the extra issue of legally being dead for years now, but that's a problem to face later. Right now, he listens.

When it's over, Shiro's quiet a moment longer, turning over everything in his mind. There's a knee-jerk reaction to finding they're on Earth properly. It's dangerous, and they don't have the ship to navigate or house the lions which means they're sitting ducks, to a point. The Coalition is solid but they've spent so much time as Voltron trying to protect planets within it that he can't help but feel they're putting Earth at a worse risk.

It had to happen eventually though, didn't it? ]

So we're...building a new ship, on Earth? Does the Garrison know? [ He can't imagine so, but who knows how long he's been out. Days, judging by what's happened. Long enough for Keith to see a doctor, right? ] We don't have healing pods if the Castle is gone; have you seen a doctor?

[ Keith might be part Galra but Shiro's fought and killed Galra before. He's seen the mess his handiwork results in. That Keith's moving at all is a miracle. ]

We can't see a doctor. Not yet. [Whereas Shiro makes it about Keith, Keith doesn't hesitate to include Shiro in the equation. He knows the both of them could use some medical care. There's no telling what's happened to Shiro's body. He knows that Allura can heal, apparently, but how much? What does it take out of her? More importantly: she hasn't been able to do it with the two of them beyond what she's already managed (for Shiro himself). Too much has happened.]

We're sitting ducks until the others get back. Assuming Pidge's plan works, they're on their way to the Garrison now.

[Keith's head rests back. There's a soft moan of pain.]

Unless they're on their way here. I hope not.

[The last thing Keith wants to deal with is ... all of that. He has a vague memory of his mom volunteering to watch the lions. To call if there's trouble. He thinks? He decides not to report it to Shiro. He doesn't know if that offer was accepted.

Plus, if no one shows up, they can just ... sit here for a while. In pain. Together.

It beats causing each other pain.]

Has anyone looked you over?

[ Shiro isn't sure if anyone's looked him over but he's long past the point of being modest when it comes to this kind of thin. Just thinking about moving makes his body twinge with regret but he knows that he's going to be more irritated with himself if he doesn't move, eventually, and Keith's stubborn. The odds of anyone looking him over - of him allowing it aren't exactly great, here. ]

Can you contact them and ask?

[ Except, now that he's thinking about it and a little more awake, he needs to move. He smells like sweat and blood and burning plastic, his teeth feel fuzzy and he really, really wants to go to the bathroom. A lack of modesty with injuries isn't a problem but he doesn't want Keith holding him upright while he takes a piss.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Shiro gingerly starts to tug the covers back and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, regretting it instantly but not stopping. ]

Please tell me there's a bath.

[ He can sit in the shower, but he'd really, really like a bath now that he's thinking about it. ]

[There might've been something to say, to point out about Keith's own condition, but suddenly Shiro is moving. A surprised sound escapes from Keith's throat, and he moves to help Shiro with the blanket, the tenderness lacking from some of his previous words finding its way into his actions. He ensures that he tugs it out of the way entirely. It's like doing something for Shiro helps him find the strength he needs.

Keith slides off the bed soon after.]

There's a bathroom. It's a hotel. Don't they always have bathrooms?

[Keith's experience with shitty hotels: it's limited. But that's probably not surprising. It's not really the type of thing that a kid without parents tended to frequent.

Even if he's not particularly steady himself, he begins to advance on Shiro.]

Don't you need help? I can help you. [There was something comforting in sitting close to him, shoulder to shoulder. He doesn't want to break contact now. Whether that's a fully realized thought, well—that's another thing altogether.]

[ Yeah, he doesn't miss that he doesn't get an answer, but he also didn't provide much time to respond and he can guess what the response would be anyway. They're both decent at making sure others are taken care of but not so much at taking care of themselves. ]

Bathrooms, yes. [ But he's not sure if it's more likely to have a shower or a bath. It seems a foolish question in retrospect; Keith obviously didn't have the same kind of experiences as he did and it isn't as if he would have spent long periods of time in hotels really, so Shiro doesn't push at that. Instead, he waits for Keith to come closer and gives him a tired smile, only half forced. ] If you can help me get out of this, that would be great.

[ It's not quite as easy to do with only one arm. Hell, he's not even sure he can shower with his arm how it is, but he desperately wants to give getting clean a try no matter what. As if reminding him it isn't just cleanliness that matters, his stomach growls audibly and Shiro grimaces only to realize that they're on Earth. Earth means shitty delivery food, and he wants shitty delivery food but money might be a bit of a problem. All the GAC in the world won't help when it's not easily able to be transferred into Earth currency. ]

If you can help me with my boots, I'll see if I can remember a credit card number. Somewhere here has to deliver, right?

[Nope, it would've been an answer like, "Maybe while I was asleep?" Whatever he was doing and no matter what noise he would open his eyes to, he really would've had no idea if the others had checked him over for injuries. He's assuming they had. He feels—not great, but he isn't dying.

Keith sets the really important bars here.]

We'll let them triple the delivery fee. [Keith stomach rumbles as he thinks about pizza. About cheese. About pepperonis. Wow, he hasn't had any of those for ... years now. All the others are off trying to get things set up, and here they are, without anything. They might be eating whatever they want! Hunk probably has all the best five-star Yelp reviewed places on speed dial. (Not that Keith knows what a Yelp is, but the spirit of the sentiment remains the same.)]

Too bad Pidge isn't here to make them think we paid. Or uh, figure out some other funds transfer. [Since they're the good guys. But ... pizza ...]

But just—sit so I can get your boots off. And maybe we should wait? What if it comes quickly? [Where they are, no pizza is coming quickly. Keith is just trying to make sure they're prepared for the next steps ahead. It's as if taking care of Shiro has washed away (hah) any recognition of his own aches and pains.]

[ Not great but not dying is a bar so low they could both walk over it, but there they are all the same. ]

There has to be somewhere that will deliver to...wherever we are.

[ He hasn't looked outside, doesn't have any idea what time it is or where they are on Earth but it doesn't matter. There has to be something, somewhere. Gingerly he leans over and pulls the nightstand over, pushing aside the bible to pull out the takeout menus and then sits once more so Keith can help him get everything off. ]

We'll see what they say. I'll get a little of everything since the princess and Coran won't have had this before.

[ With the promise of food, his mood instantly is better even if his body isn't. Shiro fusses with the latches on his thigh armor and manages those leaving just the boots which feels ridiculous to let Keith do but he's also not about to try and bend only to fall off the bed. Plucking the notepad and pen from atop the nightstand he starts writing an order down, starting with his and Keith's usual only to pause. ]

Do you want the same thing you used to get?

[Thinking of a different order never occurred to him. It's not like he had a lot of pocket change in the time between Shiro's disappearance and eventual (and rather surprising) return. Keith is also that person who decided he liked X thing when he was eight and hasn't changed his mind for the past decade and almost-a-half.

He looks up at Shiro, a smile present as his hands stop loosening Shiro's laces.]

That hasn't changed. Hasn't had much of a chance to. [There would be something bittersweet to those words, but it doesn't match Keith's delivery. He seems at peace with the fact.]

I never thought I'd be having pizza with you again. [Then again, he didn't know if Shiro would ever be alive again for a period of time in his recent memory, so there's that.

His hands go back to work, his eyes lowering back to what he's doing. The thought itself isn't a pleasant one. As he begins to tug off Shiro's boot, he looks up at his face, trying to guess what he's thinking. He just ... doesn't know. Shiro is good at being okay when he needs to be.]

[ Shiro's never been great at handling his own issues. Other peoples' issues, sure. He can do that easily enough but his own? It's not impossible but he's not particularly adept at it, either. Shoving it down to deal with later has always been a viable option, especially when confronted with something to distract him.

In this case, it's the simple act of ordering food, even if he hasn't done it in literal years. While Keith works at his boots, Shiro does his best not to feel ridiculously like an invalid and starts writing. First, the card number, which he remembers easily enough. He can't use his own since he assumes those are shut down but assuming his mom never had to get a new one and didn't move, it should still work.

Then, it's consolidating an order for all of them and saying a mental apology to his mom who is going to wonder how the hell a two hundred dollar order got added to her credit card. ]

I always hoped, but- [ After the arena, he'd stopped thinking about it as much as he could. Being wistful didn't help him win battles, determination did. Then, when they were all together, he hadn't let himself think about it because how could he? It was always a given he'd probably never make it out alive, yet here they were. Alive, if a few steps away from well. Once his boots are off, Shiro leans forward and hands him the notepad and the menu, squeezing Keith's shoulder. ] Thanks, Keith. I'm going to call the front desk for toiletries unless they got them already?

[Keith's about to say something like, "Your guess is as good as mine," but his mind doubles back over the thought. That isn't something that Pidge, Allura, or Coran would have considered. But Lance and Hunk? They wouldn't have left Keith and Shiro hanging. Hunk would've wanted to take care of them. And Lance? He would've made some remark like, "Keith's needed this soap for ages."

(Not that Keith doesn't shower. He showers regularly! He just ... went straight from spending two years on a space whale to a Lotor conspiracy to a battle to saving Shiro's life, so he's probably a little rank right now.)]

They've got us covered. I can call while you go, unless—unless you need me.

[The kind of care of "getting Shiro into the shower and washing him down" is absolutely foreign to Keith. But he'll do it.]

[ He's not surprised to hear the others have taken care of it already; how many times has he gone missing and they've had to deal with it? There's no small measure of guilt with that thought, but he can't do much about it, can he? The most he can do is have himself in a presentable state when the others get back, and better still if he can get pizza.

Keith's own state doesn't go without notice; Shiro hands him the notepad and gives him a crooked smile, not quite sure where boundaries lie after everything that's happened lately. What he does know is that if Keith's been waiting for him to wake up, he could probably do with some help, too. ]

Let me help you with your armor and then we'll order?

[ He's not so far out of it that he doesn't know how to return the favor. If he thought that Keith would take first shower if offered, he'd do it but he's realistic here and knows that's not terribly likely. Keith's stubborn and a pretty good example of leading a horse to water but not being able to make him drink. This feels strangely normal in a way he wasn't expecting; they haven't spent a ton of time in motels, sure, but after everything, Keith's at his side and Shiro trusts him implicitly. ]

[Falling into step with Shiro does feel normal. It might be a metaphorical sense, but he doesn't think twice about it. Keith considers arguing about his armor, but he can still feel spots of tenderness where Shiro's fist had slammed into his torso repeatedly. It's probably better not to test how deep those aches and pains go.]

Sounds good.

[Keith rises up and comes to stand in front of Shiro. He used to be so small compared to Shiro, and always felt that way, too. He never really had a chance to reflect on it too long before chaos broke out. Now, he's not anything like he had been before. The inches between them are barely present, and it's more apparent now.]

I guess ... I should asked sooner. What do you remember? Do you even know how you got here? [Is he prepared to see his hair as shockingly white?]

[ Enough bizarre, overwhelming things have happened to Shiro that none of this registers on his weirdness scale right now. After being kidnapped by aliens and forced to fight in an arena, everything else just kind of seems par for the course, really. That said, it's...jarring, seeing Keith standing over him, bigger and broader than Shiro is used to seeing. The last few weeks have been a blur at best, and his memory is spotty enough he knows that he should double check everything.

There's an awful, terrifying thought that he can't really trust any of his memories anyway; who is to say that Haggar couldn't manipulate those, too? Who is to say she didn't? That's a dangerous rabbit hole to go down but doesn't he owe it to all of them to make sure that he's at one hundred percent so he doesn't put them in danger? ]

It's...a lot of it is bits and pieces. I remember everything that he does. [ Shiro reaches for the first catch on his armor and starts working, tone soft as he corrects himself. ] Most of it, anyway. Some things I'm not so sure of and a lot of it is disjointed. Kind of like watching a movie half awake. You remember the plot, sort of, but...

[ Shiro undoes another latch, his hand lingering a moment too long on Keith's arm before he catches himself and continues working. Lower still, like he's not certain he wants to broach this: ]

I remember the fight.

None of that was you. [Keith feels the need to return to that point. In the panicked mind space of the Black Lion, all of the trauma had really begun to kick in. Shiro had tried to kill him. Shiro had said he should have been abandoned. The words may not have belonged to Shiro, but the voice felt real. All of it felt so real. But it was Shiro who got him to the other paladins, who guided him the rest of the way.

Maybe reassuring Shiro that his words hadn't belonged to him isn't the right tack to take right now.

But then, there's Keith's own words during the fight. He desperately reached out at first, and then again—I love you.

His lips twist downward. No, he won't draw attention to that. Shiro said it was bits and pieces. That should include the fight.]

That won't happen again. I won't let it happen. [As if Keith's sheer will would be enough. It had been once. So that could easily be true, right?]

I know.

[ It's not particularly convincing, though. Shiro gives him what once used to pass for a comforting smile though he knows right now that it's probably not doing its job terribly well because he's not in the right headspace to give comfort let alone know how to receive it gracefully. It wasn't him, but it was. Isn't that the problem?

Again, quieter, ] I know.

[ He doesn't have any choice in the matter, though. It's one thing to say that it won't happen but it's something else altogether to be able to make certain that it doesn't and right now they're not at a point where that can actually be promised. He's not going to argue with Keith about it, though, not when he's trying his best and it's out of his control. If it happens, it's not your fault he wants to say but he knows that isn't going to help matters, either. Exhaling unsteadily, Shiro finishes getting the armor off of himself and helping Keith before he rises up again to go shower. ]

I'll leave the door open. If you need anything, yell.

[In those seconds before the facility began to implode, Keith recalls Shiro's return to reality. The look in his eyes was Shiro's. The arm had been the contaminate. It had to have been. But he knows that there's no real certainty to that. They haven't had a chance to look into it, or work out how it happened. Allura might have an idea, but they have to get the ball moving, get in touch with the Garrison, get everything going—

They don't have time for Shiro. And Keith knows his friend too well to think he'd push to make sure he was all right. That's the last thing he tends to do. Ever.

He stands idle, feeling useless as he watches Shiro slip into the bathroom. He could go to every length to get Shiro back, but he would never be able to take away those memories of fighting him, nearly beating him to death. Keith doesn't resent him for it. He never could. There's just that fluttering anxiety in his stomach when he reflects on it. He might not resent it, but it was truly the most terrifying moment of his life, and he had to hold his ground.

The moment water begins to spray over the shower in the bathroom, Keith grabs the phone and begins to order the pizza. He's not the most amiable guy in the world, so he nearly loses patience with the guy on the other end of the line as he digs for the address and room number. Keith also hasn't made a phone call in years.

And he probably hated it years ago, too. He's the "online delivery" type of guy.

Once the order is placed, Keith settles in at an edge of the bed where he can watch steam float out of the bathroom and keep an ear out for whether Shiro's all right. It's like keeping vigil—the same vigil he'll always keep when Shiro is concerned.]

[ It's cowardly to do this and Shiro knows it, but Keith staring at him like he expects something, like he understands, like he's alright with everything that happened is too much. There's a mark on his cheek that's Shiro's fault and his hands were the ones that were used to bruise every inch of Keith's skin, trying to hurt him, to kill him. The thought alone is nauseating enough without seeing proof and much as Shiro wishes that he could deal with this right then, he needs a moment.

There is, as it turns out, a bath and shower combined. Relief hits him as he keeps the door open enough so Keith can tell everything is okay, and to warn him about pizza delivery.

It's a whole lot like running away which he's never been good at but deep, serious, heavy conversations are going to be better when he's washed up and feeling a little more like himself. While the tub fills, he dumps the questionable soap from the little hotel container into it and then starts the process of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and after scrubbing his knuckles over his jaw, giving it a shave, too.

Tending to everything else, he finally is able to slip into the bath and tugs the shower curtain closed to hide for the time being (coward, you coward) and folds up on himself, pressing his face against his knees despite how much it aches. He doesn't cry, because that's the last thing he needs, Keith bursting in because he hears it, but his breathing goes soft and unsteady as he tries to run through everything he can, sorting out what he knows and what he needs to ask questions about. The bath's a barrier, of sorts, and much as he wishes he could just stay in here alone and sort through everything he knows that isn't fair to Keith so after a moment, he tips his head back against the wall and forces himself to start talking as he soaps himself up, moving slowly because of the ache. ]

It doesn't feel real. Being...back here. Seeing you like this.

[It doesn't occur to him yet that Shiro might be avoiding him. That he might be taking his time. Keith is so mixed up in his head right now that picking up such a nuance would be difficult. Besides—underlying all of that is a simple fact: Shiro was dead, and now he's alive. No matter what comes their way, he had found him. He had saved him. He had exposed his team to "Shiro" in the first place, but still ... still.

Keith considers moving to the outside of the bathroom door, closer so he can be heard more easily, but he's aware enough that it would be approaching invasive. Besides, he knows how quickly he'd move if Shiro needed it. Distance is nothing when it's the only barrier between him and helping Shiro.]

Being alive? [It feels like a good idea to go back to that point. He had been kept in the Black Lion.]

Not that it feels like you ever died. I got lucky that way. [With "Shiro" present, Keith could run. He could find his mom. He could grow up. And everyone nearly died for it.

His lips twist downward with the recognition.]

Me ... and no one else.

[ Shiro wouldn't call it 'avoiding' necessarily, even if that's exactly what it is. Allura might have fixed this, put him back inside his body (arguably, in theory, if not necessarily) but there were things that she couldn't fix. Things he had to work out on his own. For all that he urged the others to share their burdens, it didn't seem fair to do this to Keith, not when he's already done so much to him.

Glancing down at the bruising on his skin, he can almost pick out each individual strike, remembering those just as vividly as the bruising splashed across it. ]

Yeah.

[ Shiro's voice goes soft in agreement and then repeats it when he realizes he may be talking too quietly. He can't in here forever, though. Gingerly (after he's cleaned up, washing between his toes just for the novelty of it, and because he has toes again) he rises up and flicks the shower on, not minding the burst of too-hot before the pipes creak to cooler and he washes his hair hurriedly. It buys him time to think about what to say as he wraps up and steps out, dripping onto the towel on the ground, groping for one hanging. ]

I'm not certain that's luck, Keith.

[ Towel wrapped around his waist, he goes back in front of the mirror and abruptly realizes that it's not just the front of his hair white again. A turn-around, a hand through his hair and a moment of silence as he puts everything together and then he swallows back the shock and starts to towel it dry while the one around his waist does its best to stay there. ]

You know I don't...blame you for not knowing.

You wouldn't. [It's both dismissive and not. Keith accepts that about Shiro. That he'll always believe in him. For his part, he wants to wallow in the guilt about it all, about how he abandoned everyone. He'll have to live with that for the rest of his life. He never even bonded with Black. Once he had the opportunity, he pulled away.

There are a lot of things he could have done to stop this.

And he didn't do any of them.]

But we can't just pretend that I didn't have a role in all of this. [Keith has a solid foundation to these words. Whereas Keith might have learned from a mistake and just continued on before, he's managing what he's saying and thinking here in a different way. It's important to reflect on those mistakes and grow from them.

His mother lived with regret. She had left behind her son and the man she loved in order to protect them. And now she would never leave Keith's side, no matter what. It meant a lot to him. He could take those lessons and those mistakes and carry them forward. He had to. It might have taken him a long time to understand what it meant for Keith to believe in himself, but ... he couldn't just back down from it now.]

We know there's things I could've done. I didn't do them. I'll try not to make those mistakes again.

[ Maybe the earlier parts weren't due to stress at all. Fingering through it, Shiro checks the roots and finds they're white too. Stress was suggested, but now... well. It wasn't Allura's fault that he had white hair to begin with, that only happened after Haggar. Whatever magic she'd used was Altean in nature and it shifted the rest of his hair white, evidently, which left him with an even more unsettling thought. If Allura had been the one to place him back in his body and it turned his hair white, what had Haggar done to him, to turn it white? Was that...something to do with the cloning process?

He wasn't going to get answers staring at himself in the mirror; Shiro blows out an unsteady breath and focuses on Keith instead. It's a thousand times easier to do that, especially when Keith's blaming himself for something Shiro knows without a doubt isn't his fault. ]

Keith.

[ He really wants to have this conversation with pants on, but Shiro pushes the door open a bit wider, looking out at him. He doesn't need to see the map of bruises on Shiro's skin any more than Shiro wants to see Keith's own, even if he probably deserves to look at it. Just his head, peeking out from behind the door so he can give Keith a long look, serious despite his hair damp and dripping. ]

Hindsight is always going to be perfect. If I'd bonded with Black sooner, or faster, maybe I'd understand how to navigate things better. You're going to twist yourself up in knots over this when none of it - none of it is your fault.

[Keith sucks in a breath after he turns to look at Shiro. His chest is bare and he has just a towel wrapped around his waist. The bruises are prevalent, licking over his skin, and they steal his eyes eventually. But he doesn't linger.

He pushes himself up standing to look Shiro head on. He doesn't cross the distance, but he needs him to see how much he's grown. It isn't just the blame game. He just doesn't know how to articulate that to him. Keith has to learn from his mistakes, or he'll never be who he needs to be to other people. He could take what Shiro says to heart—and he does, to some degree.]

I made mistakes. I let the team down. I'm not twisting myself up in knots over it. You can't protect me from my part in all of this. Not if I'm meant to be the leader that you think I can be. [This is the worst conversation to have while one of them is barely covered with a towel, but it's a conversation just the same. Hopefully the pizza doesn't come at the highest moment of drama.

His lips form a tight line as he considers his last words, and he adds:] Or the leader that I am.

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EVERY RFUCKING TIME FWKKFSKF

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