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Chapter Text

In the days of Urko's childhood, it was not uncommon for schools to merge their lower classes. He had once sat behind a row of orangutans, near the very back, while the chimpanzees took center seat. Their seats filed out like benches, uniform and clustered. And the only thing they all had in common was the simple fact that they were children, likeminded children not yet aware of caste or wealth. They were apes, and that was enough. So Urko went to class and sat in the back, never wondering why he had to take the back, and fidgeted in his mother's sewn shirt, already ripped at each seam. He was not a particularly good student, and he slept more often than not, but he was not a bad student. And for a gorilla, the teachers deemed it good enough.

He did not meet Galen until well into the end of the school's first trimester. Urko was no bigger than the rest of the gorilla children, but chimpanzees had always struck him as pathetically small. And Galen, somehow, looked even smaller. He was positively puny in Urko's eyes. The chimp stood at the front of the class, barely up to their instructor's waist, all but lost in his too-long clothes. Fine clothes, finer than any Urko had ever seen. His robe was a rich green, no doubt new and perhaps first-time worn.

"Hello," the little chimp said, his voice almost a chirp, nervously stroking his own hands, "my name is Galen."

"Hello Galen," everyone echoed back. Except Urko. He'd been too busy staring into the new student's eyes; Galen had an unimpressive build (even for a chimp) but there was softness to his eyes Urko had never seen. It reminded him of warm soup, or half-bloomed flowers. He thought they were beautiful, even prettier than those fine clothes. Then, he admitted, that he found Galen beautiful too.

Urko soon learned that Galen attended class so late because he had been too ill to come before. And he was frequently ill. It was no secret among the adults that Sir Yalu's son was frail. He had been born with a twin who died before the umbilical chord was cut. And bad health had plagued the surviving son since. He was rarely seen off the family's estate. Most of the time, he was sick in bed. So his parents spoiled him, this much the whole class knew. Galen was the world to his father and his mother, and their love alone was what kept him alive.

They must have loved him with every fiber of their beings because out of the sixty-eight days in that first trimester, Galen had only attended twenty-two. He came for ten before he took ill again. Another ten before he went home with a hot fever. And he returned with a noisy cough until he disappeared two days later. As far as Urko was concerned, it was a miracle Galen hadn't died before winter.

He didn't give Galen much thought after that. Urko's time was better spent playing with the healthier apes in his class, and back then, the orangutan children did not mind climbing trees with gorillas. Then, at the start of the winter term, Galen came back. And it was on the path to school, well before the sun rose, that Urko first spoke to him. The chimp had been standing at the side of the road, admiring the bloom of snowdrops with his big eyes. Urko hadn't wanted to wake up so early that morning, but his mother had work, which she dearly appreciated, and his father had been dead for some time. So he went with her and parted ways at the fork in the road.

Urko was one, surprised to see Galen alive, and two, surprised that the chimp's parents hadn't accompanied him. It seemed awfully dangerous to let their son wander the wilds in his condition, whatever it was. But these thoughts disappeared as soon as they came. And Urko walked right past Galen, stomping on the flowers en route.

"Stop!" the chimp squeaked, "don't go that way. You'll crush them!"

Urko did stop. He turned, all but towering over his classmate, and the fear was evident in Galen's eyes. It tickled Urko quite a bit to see the chimp so distraught. But to Galen's credit, he held his ground even though Urko had expected him to run. 

"Why?" Urko said, "they're just flowers. And who are you to tell me what to do."

"I'm Yalu's son." As if that was all he had to say. But before Urko could sneer at how ridiculous his defense was, Galen took him by the hand. The chimp guided him towards one of the snowdrops and put their fingers on its petals.

"You shouldn't crush something so special," Galen said, almost begging, "they're not just flowers. If you really look at them, they're much more, but if you crush them, we'll never get to see that."

Urko rolled his eyes. "You're stupid."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

And just to prove his point, Urko stepped on the snowdrops again. Huffing, Galen ran to stop him. But he was no match for the gorilla, and in the end, Galen was shoved onto the road while Urko stuffed grass in his mouth. If the chimp had run home in tears, perhaps that would have been the end of that. But he fought back, little fists doing nothing against the larger ape's build. And Urko laughed because he found it all very silly. He left Galen flustered and near tears by the ruined flowers. They didn't speak in class that day, not that they ever did. 

On the way home, Urko plucked a snowdrop and put it in his school satchel. It was rather pretty. His mother had enjoyed it, at least, and they kept it by the window for several more days, until Urko accidentally pinched it too harshly.

The day after the death of his mother's favorite flower, Urko stopped Galen after class. "How do you save a flower?"

The chimp thought for a moment. "I don't know." Then he frowned. "Why?"

Urko didn't like his tone. It was embarrassing enough to ask Galen of all apes for help. He muttered a curse and said, "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."

Sulking, he left, and it wasn't until he was halfway home that Galen caught up with him. Out of breath, the chimp grabbed his sleeve. "There are more flowers by the meadow."

They went, hand-in-hand, and maybe it was Galen's rosy gaze that made Urko tell him everything. And Galen had laughed, because of course you shouldn't hold a snowdrop like that, even his father had better sense. Urko had wanted to punch his smug little face, but found that he couldn't. When they got to the meadow, there were plenty of wildflowers to choose from, all sorts of colors and shapes. Galen picked out a comb of purple for him.

"This is a perennial," he said, "mother says it brings good luck."

But Urko was reluctant to touch it. Galen grabbed his hand, tucked the flower in, and gently closed his fingers. He giggled. "You do it like this. See? It didn't break, did it?"

"No, it didn't," Urko said, watching the petals sway in the breeze.

It was a little chilly, even with his pelt and cloak. In his own little bundle of winter clothes, Galen took Urko's hand again and showed him the rest of the meadow flowers. He named them and told him what they meant. And evidently, this sharing of knowledge made the chimp giddy and his eyes shine. Urko couldn't help but think Galen's eyes weren't so different from the flowers they saw. Galen rambled and picked flowers until sunset, scoffing at Urko's quibbles and taunts. And when they finally left, the chimp asked, very shyly, "Are we friends, Urko?"

The gorilla scratched his head. "I think we are."

Galen smiled. And that's all Urko could remember of the rest of that night. 

The next day, Galen did not come to class. Or the day after. Or the day after that. Eventually, Urko asked- demanded- why and the instructor said, quite briskly, that the chimp was sick again. Rumor had it that he wouldn't make it to spring. And from what Urko could gather from the adults, Galen was so ill he had been bedbound for twelve days straight. The consensus was that the chimp would die this time. Urko did not take kindly to it, and he did not take kindly to the fact that he cared. He spent most of his class time actually reading the assigned texts or simply brooding under trees, because his friends- or whatever they were- were not Galen.

Towards the end of the winter trimester, the lower level students enjoyed a break from classes to help with the Festival of Cleo. They strung lanterns all around and folded paper in the shape of frost, although it never snowed on their side of the land. Urko never much cared for the festival's history- but he did enjoy it. His mother was always home early and old orangutans would hand out candy on the streets. And it was the one time of the year where the sight of humans never disgusted him; they helped with parades and the like, and if their masters were feeling particularly kind (which they often were at this time of the year), most humans would be free to celebrate on their own elsewhere. 

When the festival came around that winter, there was no school. And Urko found himself waiting among a crowd of apes and humans, straining to see past every head. A chimpanzee was putting on a play with puppets, leather cutouts dancing against candlelight. They were very crude, in Urko's opinion, but he supposed Galen would have enjoyed it. Cleo had been a bonobo queen, one of the first from the east thousands of years ago. She had a lover named Anto, who once tried to cut out his own heart for her. But Cleo rejected him because she was in love with another, the Great Caesar.

Cleo had been everything a male should want, but Caesar did not return her love, just as she did not return Anto's. In the end, Caesar bid her farewell, and Urko had seen enough of that final kiss in bad stage plays to be sick of it already. And to mend her broken heart, Cleo ordered her apes to put on an elaborate festival, where she was free to pour her sorrows and joys into the night. In some versions, Anto committed suicide the same night- which was why potatoes were a common food for the festival, some twisted representation of eating his heart. Urko grumbled and left after the show's end, because he'd been looking forward to Anto's death (the only interesting part in his opinion). 

Galen would have enjoyed the festival more, so then Urko thought, if Galen couldn't attend the festival, he would bring it to him. There were so many apes on the street that nobody noticed him swiping a few potatoes into his satchel. He put in some primroses for good measure, careful not to crush the petals, and a few paper shapes that were better than what he'd folded in class. And when he was positive nobody was looking, Urko took a lantern as well. Its flame was bright as he made his way towards Yalu's estate.

Away from the crowds, he realized it was a very chilly twilight. The noises and lights faded with every step he took, and soon, it was as if they were just noises in the water. He'd made up his mind, but some part of him still cowered at the thought of getting caught. Someone like him had no right trespassing on a noble's property, but Galen's small voice- are we friends?- pushed him on. So blood thrumming, he arrived, having completely forgotten that they had human servants. But Yalu had evidently cleared the house for the night. And then Urko told himself that he didn't care. He thrust the satchel over his shoulder and climbed.

When he finally reached Galen's room, and he assumed it was Galen's room because a small chimp's head was poking out of the bed covers, Urko blew on the window pane. Frost parted and he tapped, not too loud. The chimp shifted, and soon, he was stumbling out of bed. Legs wobbly, Galen limped towards the window, the perfect picture of surprise on his face. The wooden panes parted and Galen gasped, "Urko, what are you doing here?"

Urko climbed in and threw his satchel on the ground. He huffed. "I got bored at the festival. So I brought you some things. You like boring things."

It was either his fevered brain or the thought of a surprise gift, because Galen's eyes lit up and he immediately knelt before the satchel, night gown fluttering just above his ankles. Urko took out everything one by one, told Galen he folded the paper himself, and said the lantern was from a very realistic play he saw on the way here. 

"How wonderful," Galen said, delighted, "I wish I could've gone with you, Urko."

"It wasn't that fun. We can have more fun here. Are your parents awake?"

Galen shook his head. Then, a little sad, said, "They stayed because of me."

Urko removed the primroses and placed one in Galen's palm. "If you cry, I'll hurt you. I went through a lot of trouble to get you these things. So the least you could do is be happy."

"Thank you, Urko. You're a very good friend."

And while Galen admired the primrose, Urko dragged him towards the open window. They looked at the lantern lights from there, the festival all but burning up the city, and they could hear the distant sound of drums and lutes. 

"You have a nice view," Urko said, "must be nice to be rich."

"I'm sure it's much prettier down there with the lights. You can always come by."

"I don't think your father would like me. My mother would love you though."

Galen chuckled. Then he looked at the primrose. "Urko, do you know why we put up primroses tonight?"

"I don't care."

"Well, you should!"

"Fine, why?"

Tracing the petals, Galen said, "Cleo said she was a child when she met Caesar. She thought her love for him made her better, because he was everything she wanted to be. But there was a hole in him she couldn't fill. After Caesar left, she knew she'd grown up- the primrose was all she had left of her youth."

Urko nudged him on the head. "How do you know this?"

"I read!"

"Hm. Well, I think Caesar's a fool. Cleo was perfect and I want a wife just like her."

"You're too young to be married."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

This time, Galen gave up. Then he leaned on Urko's shoulder and grinned, as if about to share some deep secret. "In my father's study, there's another version of the story. I don't think it's as popular, but I did learn a lot: Anto was in love with Caesar too."

Urko shoved him off, feeling a little guilty after it sent Galen coughing once or twice. After the chimp collected himself, Urko snorted. "Anto was a male."

"A male can love another male," Galen said matter-of-factly.

It was a concept that admittedly, had never crossed Urko's mind. He supposed there was no law against it, nothing to say they couldn't live together and mate, however that would work. Galen went back to admiring his gifts, and as Urko watched the chimp thumb those petals, the words echoed in his mind- Anto was in love with Caesar too. Then he wondered if maybe that was why the ape killed himself. Maybe he hadn't tried to carve out his heart for Cleo, maybe it had been for Caesar. It was almost horrifying to think about, that someone could feel so strongly for another that his only alternative was death. Urko decided he never wanted to be in love.

They talked a while longer about nothing, staring at the glow of the city, as if its lanterns could warm them up from so far away. Eventually, Galen couldn't stay up any longer, so he hid Urko's gifts away and went back to bed, the papers tucked under his pillow. And the gorilla didn't much feel like leaving so soon, even though his mother was waiting. But he climbed out the window anyway when Galen was asleep, and Urko had to admit, Galen did look dead when he was sleeping. He shivered from time to time in his blanket. It was a pathetic sight, but Urko knew it was better than no shivers because at least it meant he was alive.

When Urko came home, the primrose replaced the snowdrop in his house. His mother loved it regardless, and they shared a midnight meal of potato and carrot cake. 

And when the spring trimester began, miraculously, Galen returned. There were dark circles about his eyes and he couldn't do much of anything without getting so winded his breath would choke. He limped when everyone else walked, and he seemed to have somehow gotten even smaller. He looked so frail the instructors never called on him, for fear that the pressure would kill him on the spot. But there had been one good thing to come out of his presence- the chimp and Urko were inseparable, then, the best of friends. Galen usually sat in the third row, with the rest of the chimps, but that spring, he moved to the back with Urko.

If there was anything Urko admired about Galen, it was, admittedly, his ability to keep up with class. Urko had rarely missed a single day and the lessons still flew over his head, but Galen, for all his absences, kept up perfectly. It turned out that he did read; to make up for his sick leaves, Galen spent hours studying in bed. In many ways, the chimp would tell Urko later, it was the need to learn more that kept him alive. That, and it was a good distraction from the shivers and coughing pains he was no doubt in. Viewing the chalkboard was no problem at all because Galen would sit atop Urko's shoulders and take his notes against the gorilla's head. The arrangement suited Urko just as well because he'd just force Galen to repeat everything to him at recess- the chimp made a better teacher than their actual teacher, really.

But Galen still wasn't well enough to play with the rest of them outside, and Urko would often catch him looking forlornly out the classroom window with an annoying little pout. And like always, the chimp dove nose-deep into the books instead. That must have been what fed into his overactive imagination, because fantasies seemed to be Galen's forte. When Urko went with him to the meadow after class, hand-in-hand as always, Galen would always have some game in mind, some way to compensate for all the running and climbing he wasn't allowed to do.

There were times when they would reenact the battle between Caesar and Aldo, and fight over who got to play Caesar. Other times, Galen would pretend to be a doctor and Urko his bad-tempered patient. And they would bicker over how unrealistic it was for Urko to be up and talking after having his liver, stomach, and brain removed. They would pretend to be the Councillors of Ape City, or farmers in the country. Once, Galen wrote a skit where Urko was a high class business person and he his faithful servant. Then they'd switch. Urko was always grudging, but he enjoyed the games for the sake of it. Galen was enamored with pretending, and often acted like he really believed he was who he played. 

And once, the chimp suggested the reenact a wedding since that was what they were covering in class. Urko had balked. "I'm not playing a female! I'd rather play a dirty human."

"Some humans are very clean," Galen said, quite defensively. Then he rolled his eyes and said, "If I was the bride, would it make you happier, Urko? You'd make a handsome groom."

Urko pondered that. Then, wary, he nodded. "Fine. But only if you're the stupid bride."

Then they gathered what flowers they could find- lilies, peonies, and dahlias for the bride, and daffodils for the groom- and created bouquets of pink, yellow, and white. Urko tucked a daffodil behind his ear and held the rest to his chest, in his best mimicry of an adult groom. Galen wore his bouquet like a crown, slightly tilted against his small head. In the sunlight, the petals shone like a halo, and he'd never looked prettier to Urko, though that was an odd thing to think. There was no Elder to marry them, so Galen read the Lawmaker's vows instead. Then he plucked out five petals from his crown, three for prosperity, two for health. Urko did the same with the daffodil behind his ear. And they exchanged their petals. 

As was customary (according to Galen's memory), they would each have to swallow one of the other's petals. It tasted terrible in Urko's opinion. After that, the groom was to carry the bride home, usually to the tune of twenty drums behind him. They would stay locked in their house for at least three days, feeding on nothing but bread and the fruit left by the bride's parents. It was a most intimate time. 

So Galen hopped into Urko's arms and the gorilla carried him across the meadow, showing off his bride to the grass and trees. When he reached the end of the path, he set Galen down and pretended to nuzzle his chest.

"This is the part where you bear my fruit," Urko said.

"Oh, I would love to raise a tiny Urko."

"It could be a female. Then it'd be a tiny Urka."

Galen burst out laughing and rolled aside, Urko tumbling after him. When he caught up with the chimp, Urko pounced on him and sniffed him all over, taking in the fragrance of wild flowers and the soap in Galen's clothes. He supposed this was as good a consummation of marriage as they were going to get, and in return, Galen carded his fingers through the fur atop Urko's head. Their foreheads touched, and there, away from the rest of civilization and the rules of the classroom, Urko forgot what it was to think. For a split second, he was an animal, and something in Galen's eyes told him the chimp was the same.

Then Urko kissed him, quickly on the lips, and before Galen could blink, Urko rolled off him. And still hand-in-hand, they lay on trampled grass, staring at the sky and not saying anything. 

And after what felt like an hour since the sun shifted, Galen said, "Do you think the Lawmaker was in love with Caesar too?"

"Not everyone's in love with Caesar," Urko grunted, "and Caesar was a great warrior. He's not some whore- stop saying things like this."

"But maybe there's some truth to it. Think, Urko. Cleo and Anto did everything they could to make us remember what they were to him. But the Lawmaker, he even gave up his name to keep Caesar's alive. That's awfully selfless. Yes, I think the Lawmaker loved him more than either of them."

 Urko didn't quite understand what Galen was rambling about, but he knew he didn't like it. He didn't like to think about sad things after what they just shared. So he said, "Then the Lawmaker was a fool too, just like Caesar." 

"Urko!"

"It's true."

It was. Urko turned his face, eyes on Galen, the chimp still looking into the sky. If Galen went home and forgot about this day, the gorilla would be furious. He thought of Galen marrying some fancy chimp female (if Galen even lived that long) and telling his children about the day some nameless ape kissed him on the lips. No, Urko could not stand for that. He was no fool. But maybe in the moment he was. It was silly to think this was real, because he knew he wanted a wife and children, and plenty of work ahead. But none of that mattered then.

Because he loved Galen. And he supposed Galen loved him. And they were children, so all was well.

They never shared a moment like that in the meadow again, but they visited it plenty of times. Urko suspected the whole class knew by mid-spring that he and Galen were unusually close, but nobody had reason to say a word. Galen came by his small house at least once every seven days, with milk and honey cake, and true to Urko's word, his mother adored the chimp. Urko found himself scaling Yalu's walls whenever he couldn't sleep, and waking Galen from his sleep. They counted stars together and exchanged tales of mundane things, but back then, those were the most special things in the world. 

And at the end of the spring trimester, the instructor took the students outside as a reward. They sat in a mock gazebo and enjoyed the fresh air on the last day of their first school year. Then the whole class clapped for Galen because he had only missed eight days of school. The chimp's health had steadily increased throughout the year and Urko liked to believe he had a part in it. But spring came to an end and the school cleaned itself of its lower students for one blissful month. Urko had wanted to go fishing during their respite, but Galen fell ill and that plan fell through; truth be told, Urko was glad they didn't go because he lied about knowing how to fish. And in the end, they spent their summer by Galen's window and in the meadow.

And as loathe as he was to admit it, Urko would recall that year for years to come, because it was the happiest time in his life, second only to the birth of his daughter. He would come to hate Galen, would come to dream of tearing him apart limb from limb and rendering him as frail as he had been as a child. But in the moments when he did not have the willpower to dwell on his hate, Urko would remember. He remembered and he'd wonder where it ended.

When the second school year started, they had a new instructor and Galen was no longer allowed to sit in the back. And from the window, Urko saw orange flowers sway, like dots in the grass. At recess, Galen told him those were butterfly weeds.

Chapter Text

According to the Chairs of education, the children would have one more year in a shared classroom before they were to be hauled off into their separate branches. For Urko, it made little difference because the class was divided enough as it was. He remembered kicking pebbles with chimps and orangutans in the year before, all of them causing a general ruckus together. The lessons had been boring, but recess had been a welcome respite. And at least indoors, Galen would be with him all the while, tapping his head with a pen or ruffling Urko's shoulders with his feet. 

In the fall trimester of their second year, chimpanzees were forced to sit in the center row. When Galen tried to take his place in Urko's corner, he had been dragged away by the collar and reprimanded with a stick to the bottom. He'd tried not to cry, but in the end, he'd sniffled anyway. The instructor made it clear that what they did outside the classroom was none of her business, but within, her rules were law: the apes would sit in their assigned places and would not speak to each other unless addressed, and even then, orangutans would speak first, then chimps, and lastly, the gorillas (who their chimp instructor seemed to regard with vague disgust).

Urko had asked Axe, the orangutan friend he knew the best from the year prior, what he thought of their teacher, and all Axe had said was a quiet, "I shouldn't play with you anymore."

By the time fall ended, "I can't play with you" and become synonymous with "I don't want to play with you" and soon, the apes stopped mingling altogether. Urko picked a different tree to climb when he saw one claimed by chimps. And the orangutans would go elsewhere to play when they saw the gorillas tossing pebbles. Urko supposed it was better between the chimps and the orangutans, according to Galen's gossip, but beyond a simple "hello," the orangutan children deemed the chimps too immature to play with them as well.

"Hmph! We don't want to play with them anyway!" Urko swung his satchel over a shoulder as Galen bobbed ahead. The chimp had grown taller over the summer before, but he was still nothing compared to the gorilla's increasing size.

"I heard all they do is go over homework."

"Boring!" Then Urko snickered. "Isn't that what you always do too, Galen?"

"I'm not boring-" and before he could finish that thought, something caught the chimp's eye. Lighting up, he tugged at Urko's sleeve and together, they ducked through the busy streets until they stopped in front of a cart. A vendor in a hood was selling carnations, petals of pink and red overflowing. Galen scooped one up and held it to Urko's eye.

"Do you think my mother would like it?"

"How should I know? And you have to pay for that."

On cue, Galen began rummaging in his pockets for coins. The vendor shifted nervously in front. Then at last, she stuck out a hand to receive her pay- a wrinkled, hairless hand. A human hand. And on instinct, Urko grabbed Galen's wrist, catching the coins in his own palm.

"Where's your master?" the gorilla demanded.

The human seemed to cower, and Urko felt his own nostrils flare. Under that hood, he began to make out her- its- features, pale, mottled skin, obscenely nude and a high-bridged nose.

"I don't have one," the old human said quietly, "I was freed."

"There you have it, Urko, she's free." And raising a proud brow, Galen snatched his hand from Urko's grip, making to pay again. "These flowers are really very lovely. Did you plant them?"

The woman bowed in front, a deferential habit, but she looked into those imploring eyes, and as if deciding children would not harm her, answered. "Yes. Grew 'em myself."

Afraid to linger on their eyes any longer, she took the money and stashed it away. But there was something so intrinsically pathetic about her that Urko felt unable to look away. He marveled at how something so ugly and ratlike could walk free. It was wrong. He couldn't put it into words, but it was wrong. And perhaps a part of him knew that it was entirely possible for some old ape to have grown fond of his human, it was entirely possible that she was a good and loyal servant, and he had released her when she'd toiled away her youth. Maybe he'd simply died and now she walked free. It was all perfectly legal.

But some uncontrollable urge pushed him to say, "Murderer. You killed your master, didn't you?"

She paled. "No, no, I'd never!"

"Then what did you mean by 'was freed'? You think we're stupid, human?"

He saw the fear manifest, quite literally, before his eyes, and it was enough to tell him that she was innocent. It was also enough to tell him that he could say anything he wanted, and she would cower before his every word. As her tears brimmed, he said, "I'll call the guards on you. You'll rot in a prison!"

"Urko, stop it! You're scaring her."

Galen squeezed his shoulder, and Urko was briefly reminded of their meeting by the snowdrops. Something flipped in his stomach, and suddenly winded from the whole thing, Urko pulled himself from Galen's grip. "Who cares if she's scared."

And embarrassed for some reason he couldn't fathom, that rush of power and hate replaced with a bitter guilt, Urko stomped away. Behind him, he heard Galen say, apologetically, "These flowers really are very lovely."

But the chimp hadn't apologized. Because he was no better than Urko after all. And when Galen caught up with Urko, they got into some spat over where to go and somewhere in their argument, Urko's insults had passed from the vendor to the servants in Galen's house. The chimp defended his humans vehemently, because they were kind and clean, and his mother had forbidden anyone to hurt them inside their walls. And Urko told him the only reason he was so attached to those things was because they were the only creatures pathetic enough to look at his pitiable ill self. 

They didn't go to the meadow that day. Each ape stormed home in rage instead.

They didn't speak to each other the next day in school, or the day after. But on the third day, Urko returned from recess to find a journal lying on his desk. And inside, the pressed petals of a purple hyacinth. When he pestered Axe to tell him what it mean, the orangutan relented in the end and said, "Forgiveness." And Urko didn't quite know what to make of the gesture. He supposed he was angry because he hadn't apologized to anyone (why should he?). But something made him uneasy inside, some vague guilt for how he acted, the things he said (even to that wretched human).

After class, Urko caught up with Galen, took the chimp's satchel, and said, "I'll walk you home."

"I didn't want to fight," Galen told him, "Urko, you're my best friend. I hope we can stay friends."

"We will, idiot."

"I love you."

Urko stopped in his tracks. Neither of them had mentioned that kiss in the meadow for well over a year, not since last spring. Galen tangled their fingers together. He looked up. "I want to keep loving you. Please don't do... that again. I know you're not fond of humans, but aren't they a part of this world too? It's not their fault for being born that way, is it?"

Urko scowled. "I guess not."

"I killed my brother, you know. When I was born, I had a brother. The doctor said I lived because he died. But my mother never blamed me. Nobody blamed me. So let's not blame humans for things they didn't do."

"Fine, fine. Shut up. I hate your speeches."

They walked together in silence for a bit, until Urko looked down and said, "Galen, I love you too."

Then Galen smiled, as pretty as he'd always been, and they pecked each other on the lips then and there. After they reached Yalu's house, Urko departed, from some fear of getting seen by the chimp's family. He floated home, the warm memory of Galen's mouth on his all the way. He kissed his mother when she returned from work, and climbed into bed with a silly grin across his face. He forgot about the carnations and the human. He forgot about the hyacinth too. 

The next day, Urko felt eyes on him. It was as if the entire class had decided to watch him and Galen like beetles in the sun. Nobody said a word, but it was uneasy. At recess, he saw Galen slip out, so he followed, neither in the mood to climb or run (and in Galen's case, he was forbidden to anyway). The chimp wrung his hands again and again, and Urko knew him long enough to know he was uneasy. The gorilla had a guess as to why, but he also didn't want to say his fears out loud. He didn't have to because they found themselves cornered by a class of gorillas from the year above, their classmate, Gaia, with that group.

One of the adolescents (though they'd seem as huge as adults at the time), loomed over them. "Is it true, sister? You saw them make love?"

"I saw them kiss, yes!"

That was it? Urko thought, that was the reason behind all this whispering? Angered, he puffed out his chest and said, "And so what?"

"Urko, let's go," Galen muttered behind him.

The older gorilla laughed. He and his friends looked to each other and back at the younger apes. "A gorilla and a chimpanzee, really? I see two males all the time. But not like this."

Galen moved, but another gorilla stopped his path, sizing the chimp up and down. 

"Are you sure this one's male?" he asked.

Quivering, the chimp glared. "Yes, I'm male! Leave us alone."

"Calm down there!" the ringleader laughed, "we just want to make friends. I like seeing new things. Nothing's special about two males, or two females. But a chimp and a gorilla- that's strange. Do you two fuck humans too?"

Urko saw red. He jumped on Gaia's brother and tried his best to rip the gorilla apart. Instead, he was thrown on the ground and throttled by that gang until he saw stars. It would later dawn on Urko that what they really wanted to see was Galen moaning beneath his erection; but such thoughts did not occur to him as a child, and even if they had, he would think on with the slightest shame, he would still have been more angered over the comparison to a human.

When the gorillas grew bored, they left, leaving Urko nursing a swollen eye and Galen panicking by his side. 

"We should tell their instructor!" Galen said, "they should be punished!"

"No! I could have taken them."

"But Urko, they were bigger and there were more of them."

"So what? I'll be big too some day! And they'll be sorry they ever touched me." He meant every word. And very quickly, Galen kissed his bruised cheek.

They went back to class together, and that was the end of that. Soon, the class grew bored of watching the two, having realized they would see nothing come about from the pair. But in the days after that incident, Urko never held hands with Galen again. They didn't kiss and they never said "I love you" again. Urko knew Galen still loved him, and some part of him knew they were still together in a sense. But a seed for deep shame had been planted, and for the first time, Urko thought of how stupid he'd been to think this would work.

Perhaps if Galen had been a poor gorilla, nobody would have batted an eye. If Galen had been less pretty, less rich, less of a stargazing chimp. And perhaps if Urko had been just as refined, just as smart, just as kind. If his father was alive and not some worker in the mines. If even their own classmates saw them as a joke, he knew Yalu would never approve. And one day, when Galen grew up, when his head was filled with every book there was, he too would know just how unsuited Urko was. Urko feared all this, so he told himself it was he who did not want Galen. Galen was too weak and too small, and he could not bear children. 

When winter came, he and Galen had separated completely from the rest of the class. They chose to live in their own bubble and it was lovely. They talked about nothing and picked flowers when they were bored. They did not need any other apes in their lives because they had each other, and they simply pretended they did not need each other when they very much did. And when Galen fell ill, Urko went to the meadow anyway, convinced that only his devotion would keep his friend alive. When the Festival of Cleo came by again, Urko did not go either, because Galen was still sick, and the gorilla wasn't in the mood.

Instead, he stayed home and read a text he borrowed from the library- he learned that Aldo may not have been named Aldo. If Galen knew, he never told Urko. There was an ape named Koba, a bonobo Caesar loved like a brother. The details were lost, but Koba had tried to kill Caesar and seize his throne, so in the end, he died by Caesar's hand. Although Urko was quite sure Caesar did not come back from the dead like the text claimed, he did find something nasty about Koba's story. Maybe because he believed it. And maybe Galen disliked it because it was not as romantic as Cleo's tale- maybe the chimp did not have the heart for betrayal and bloodshed. Anto was in love with Caesar too. But what if it was Koba, Urko wondered. Except instead of carving out his own heart, Koba had tried to carve out Caesar's.

And falling asleep, Urko realized he found Koba's tale easier to believe; yes, he supposed if he was Koba, he would have done the same. 

In the spring, Urko took a job at a chimpanzee racer's stable. After class, he ran out to groom horses and shine their hooves. Children were cheaper to hire, he supposed, because the chimp only used young males, barely into adolescence. His boss had told him he didn't trust human workers. Urko was not particularly close to his coworkers or his employer, because he was in it for the money and nothing else. He wasn't even particularly fond of the horses, to be honest, and to be even more candid, he resented the time it took away from his walks with Galen. But his boss taught them many things, things Urko kept in mind- keep horses from humans because they were bound to steal, always obey the law because law was king, look out for yourself because no one else would.

Galen stopped by the stables sometimes, usually with a flower he picked on the way. And they decorated the horses with them, something the boss did not seem to mind. Galen never stayed for long. He kept his distance, feet swaying as he sat on the edge of the stable door. He and Urko rarely talked when the gorilla was working, but that hardly mattered, because knowing Galen was near- that was enough. Once, shyly, Galen slipped Urko a white gardenia bound in four leaves.

"From my mother's garden," the chimp said. Then he ran home.

Urko kept the flower pinned to his shoulder for the rest of the day. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew he'd like it, and there was something so bashful about what Galen had done that Urko did not want to ask. He did not want to share this moment with anyone else. 

Then, inevitably, spring became summer and the apes had one blissful month together by the meadow, with the exception of Urko's hours in the stable. He and Galen lazed about, and even climbed a tree or two because the chimp's health had somehow improved. They tucked sunflowers behind their ears and played at wrestling in the grass- Urko always won. Urko kept a bundle of sunflowers in his mother's vase that summer, and they cared for them together.

And when fall came again, Urko was shuffled into a class of gorillas. He only saw Galen at recess, and even then, there was a shadow of self-consciousness that followed them both. Halfway through the trimester, Galen said Yalu was sending him away. There was another school, halfway across the land that his father wished him to attend. 

"And you didn't even try to fight him?" Urko said, aghast.

"I tried to stay. But he really wants this, Urko."

"Then say you don't want it! What can you learn there you can't learn here!?"

"I don't know!"

"And what if you die on the way? It's cold in the north, you idiot."

"Of course we know that. But I'm a lot better now. And- and I really don't want to disappoint him."

Urko shoved him away. "Fine! Go to your fancy school with other stupid chimps! Who needs you."

"Urko!" Galen called after, "Urko, wait! I'll write, and I'll be back before you know it!"

Urko turned and said, "Damn you, Galen!" And that was the last thing he told the chimp before Galen disappeared for the year. He regretted it somewhat.

That winter, Urko attended the Festival of Cleo with a female named Paula, a classmate he liked well enough. They shared a potato and lit a lantern together. They even danced until well past midnight, but it was all very mute to him. Because without Galen, he realized, life was droll. But true to his word, Galen did write, many times through the year.

My dear Urko, he'd say, I'm sorry I couldn't be with you for this year's festival. Do you remember the ones we spent in my room? How nice they were! I hope the winter treats you well. I share a room with four other chimps, and before you make fun of me, no, it's not uncomfortable in the least. We have a fireplace and plenty of blankets to go around. My room is only a short walk from class. None of my companions can hold a candle to you.

Urko's mother fell ill in the spring, and her time on the fields was cut by half. Her pay was cut by half. And Urko found himself molding clay bowls at night. He cut class to go the stables often enough, and the teacher understood. He considered going to Yalu for help, but decided he would sooner die. And in between, he saw Paula several more times, even kissed her once or twice. 

My dear Urko. I'm very happy for you and Paula, but I should hope you haven't completely replaced me. I'm sorry about your mother. I'll be back in the summer and I would love to see you both again. We have a new instructor now, and how do I put this, I've never met anyone so fascinating. Every word from his mouth is a burst of knowledge. He knows so many things, Urko. I have much to tell you.

Paula became Brisha somehow, a gorilla from another class. She even helped Urko tend his mother. And although Paula gave Urko the stinkeye whenever she walked past him, it was Urko who found himself envious of the ape in Galen's letters.

Professor Marius is very fond of me. I hope I live up to his expectations. He told me the most interesting thing the other day. He promised to take me to a summit too. How exciting! I know this bores you, Urko, but my father's quite happy about this turn of events. And have you kissed Brisha?

In the end of spring, Urko barely passed his class and Brisha invited him to see stars with her at night. It was only he and her that night, and in the dark, Urko wished it was Galen. He wanted to smack himself for thinking that.

My dear Urko. Something wonderful happened. Yes, something wonderful... Tell me, have you made love to Brisha?

Urko mated for the first time under a grove behind the school, cleared for the month. Brisha was awkward underneath him, and so was he. They were clumsy and childish, and feeling very much like fools in the end. It felt good, but Urko did not want to make such a fool of himself again. And Brisha wanted nothing to do with him afterwards, as if she'd broached some personal code.

My dear Urko. I've been feeling very much out of sorts lately. I suppose I'm homesick. Professor Marius invited me to stay in his cottage for the summer, and father is receptive. But I want to come home. I miss you. 

In the days before Galen's return, Urko's mother was fired. Her employer replaced her with a freed human. 

My dear Urko. Professor Marius insists. Father says I can stand to be away from home for one more year. I can't.

"You dirty human!" Urko cried, "I'll kill you!"

He attacked the man who'd replaced his mother, Brisha shouting for him to stop. He clobbered the man, deeply satisfied when he drew blood. But the gorilla in charge pulled him off, roughly, and gave him a good clout.

"Brat!" he growled, "get off my human!"

"You would use a human over an ape!?"

"And why not? He works better, he's strong, he listens!"

Biting back tears, Urko snapped back, "That's it!? That's it!?"

"Watch yourself or I'll call the guards-"

Then the human had stood up and touched his master's arm. "Spare him, please. He's just a boy."

Urko spat in the human's face. As the gorilla moved to strike him again, Urko had run off. "I'm not a boy, I'm an ape!"

My dear Urko. I'm so sorry. I hope your mother is better. I won't be back until the winter. I hate this wretched school and these wretched apes. Only Professor Marius is good to me. But he scares me. Am I a fool for being scared? It was I who asked for his attention first.

Urko spent the summer watching horse races and wondering who to bet on. He made friends with more gorillas and together, they spent their time tormenting humans whose masters had left them waiting on the streets. In the days of his adolescence, the greatest game to play was seeing who could get the greatest reaction from a human. He heard a chimpanzee in the class above had once scared a boy so badly, he urinated on the spot. Another upper ape, an orangutan apparently, had forced a human couple to mate in front of him- Urko wondered about the truth behind this one, but he never professed to understand orangutans.

My dear Urko. Professor Marius is a most hospitable host. His bed is very soft. But I do very much want to come home. I had much to tell you, but now even I don't know what to say.

Urko's mother passed away in the fall. After winter, he planned to drop out of academia altogether. The military was recruiting, and gorillas rarely made it past the fifth year of school anyway.

Urko. I'm sorry about your mother. I'm very sorry.

Galen sent him a book of pressed petals, mostly sweet peas and white roses. If Galen had been there, Urko knew the chimp would have hugged him. He wanted nothing more than Galen in his arms. 

I'm coming home.

Urko attended the Festival of Cleo with Brisha. They didn't dance. Instead, they watched a play on the streets, and Brisha fancied the actor playing Caesar. Urko was mildly jealous, which spurred her on. But the truth was, he was jealous she could say such things out loud. He'd fancied the actor too, if only because he looked like Galen. But several days later, the real Galen returned. And he did not look happy.

Urko met him by the meadow, as Galen had instructed, and the chimp dove into his embrace. They were both too big to play pretend now, so they sat and clutched heathers instead, Galen leaning on the gorilla's shoulder. There was a dullness in the chimp's eyes, some general sense of grim weariness in the way he walked and talked. It had only been a year, but Galen had changed. Urko wondered if the chimp felt the same about him. And he could not help but feel the disappointment sink in; Galen had been everything beautiful and right in his world, and now the chimp only looked worn.

"I missed you, Urko."

"I missed you too."

"I'm happy I'm back."

Urko poked at Galen's mouth. "Then show it- smile, you fool."

Galen smiled, but it rang hollow.

Later, Galen accompanied Urko and Brisha on their picnics and outings, but he stopped at Urko's request; Brisha was self-conscious in front of a "learned" chimp, as she called him, and Urko himself did not like seeing Galen beside Brisha. He did not like having to choose. But Galen had accepted his request with no protest. And for the rest of the winter, the chimp retreated into the comfort of his father's home. Urko told himself Galen would recover from whatever ailed him by spring, and all would be as it was. He distracted himself with Brisha in the meantime, doing nothing more than holding hands; she told him she would leave school in the spring as well.

And then, in the end of winter, Axe, who hadn't spoken to Urko in years, clapped him on the back. He was out of breath after class.

"Urko," the orangutan said with frightened excitement, "do you know why it happened?"

"Axe? What do you want?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Axe sucked in a breath. "You don't have to lie, Urko. All the adults know. You knew him best. Everyone wants to know-"

"Know what."

"By Aldo, you really don't know." Axe scratched his head. "Galen set himself on fire."

Urko heard nothing for the rest of the day. When it had happened, he didn't know- he heard yesterday, he heard today, he heard weeks before. And why- he didn't know. All he knew was that chimp had strolled in front of his own home, struck stone on stone, and lit himself in flames. Rumor had it Galen simply stood and let the fire burn through flesh and fur, and now he was marred beyond recognition. 

It made Urko sick. It made him sick. He threw up soon afterwards, and sullenly sat on the gazebo until sunset. He didn't know what Galen had planned. He wondered how long Galen had planned it. And the thought of losing Galen like this, the thought of him burning those eyes, it was too much. So Urko made his way to Yalu's in the night, sick and angry and heart in shambles.

He climbed the wall, as he did when he was much smaller, and peeked through the wooden panes. Galen's face was untouched, unscarred. The rest of him was covered with blankets and his eyes stared emptily upwards. Until Urko tapped the pane. Mechanically, Galen left his bed and opened his window, the wind scattering in. And on the sill, Urko looked him up and down, seeing gauze follow Galen from the chest down, the chimp's eyes fevered and his whole body weary from pain. 

"When did you do it?" the gorilla asked.

"Three days ago."

"Does it hurt?"

"Very much."

"Why?"

Galen looked down, at his own hands, bandaged from the wrist up. "I didn't want to look at all of this anymore. I..." He bit his lip and chewed. "I didn't think I would wake up."

"Well, you did, idiot. You were a real fool and I hope you live to regret it."

"Maybe I will." Then Galen looked up, taking Urko's hands into his own. His breaths coming out in gasps, the chimp said, "Urko, I want to be with you. Let's run away!"

Galen grinned, a little crazed, his eyes burning with illness and hope, something so desperate about him that Urko was taken aback. In that moment, he'd wanted to say 'yes.' If he had been strong enough, he would have whisked Galen away then and there, and everything else would have been left to a different fate. But it was not to be. Because Urko gasped, and reeled backwards. He fell from the window, Galen watching him with that same frozen look.

Urko broke a leg that night, and he had it bandaged in jail. Yalu had no charges to pursue so the gorilla was released at dawn. He was forbidden from returning to the estate, and he was too ashamed to look for Galen again.

When the spring trimester started, Urko was no longer in school. And in between working odd jobs and helping with horse races, he prepared his application to the training academy. The deadline came soon, and he would know by summer if the military would take him in. He stopped seeing Brisha because some irrational part of him blamed her inferiority complex for Galen's injuries, though he knew there was likely no correlation there. As he waited for his application to go through, the old institution hired him as a sentry. It didn't pay well and he was a bit young for the job, but it suited Urko just fine.

He spent most of his hours roaming empty corridors, waiting to catch students in trouble. It was mostly young apes trying to skip class. And Urko did get a delicious kick out of the authority he held. And some time in the middle of spring, Galen returned, put in a class of chimpanzees a year above him.

Urko wandered across the door of Galen's class more times than he would have liked, always with the dim goal of catching a glimpse of the chimp. From what he gathered, Galen never spoke in class, preferring to keep his head bowed in his own book. If he had been shy as a child, he was positively untouchable now. And then on one particular recess, the outside covered with light rain, Urko heard snippets of a conversation.

"Aren't you the chimp who tried to burn himself?"

"Where?"

"Come on, show us."

"Show us."

When Urko turned the corner, he saw a group of five or so chimps at the end of the hall. Galen stood in the center, books scattered on the floor, as if he'd been shoved into their game. One of the chimps touched him. Galen recoiled and they yanked him forward, chuckling when he looked away. 

"That's enough," a female said, "leave him alone."

"No, no," one of the males said with a sneer, "Yalu's son always thought he was too good to play with us. Now we're finally playing. Come on, Galen, show us."

"Fine," Galen said. He grabbed the ends of his green robe and pulled, until it was up to his chin. The chimps crowded forward, and Urko blanched.

There were large, naked patches of skin crossing his chest and abdomen, clawing all the way down into the pants. They were wrinkled and pink-pinched, scars that no amount of salve could save. The female covered her mouth to keep from screaming and the males began touching each fold of damaged skin, whispering and giggling to themselves all the while. And Galen stood silent, stiff and tired, as if this meant nothing to him.

"It's like human skin. Is there more?" they asked. One tucked at the chimp's pants, and Urko was upon him with a punch to the jaw.

"No, there isn't!" the gorilla cried.

He said no more. Urko answered any protests with his fists, and by the time that group scattered, a good amount of them had suffered visible damage from Urko's sudden attack. He had the element of surprise, but he was outnumbered, so in the end, he grabbed Galen by the wrist and ran. He would likely lose his job over this, but it hardly mattered- his application had already gone through. And without really thinking about where he was going, Urko found himself back in the meadow with Galen, the rain pelting them hard. 

They took cover under the thicket of a tree, and Galen kissed him, roughly, passionately. Perhaps it was gratitude, or perhaps it was a way to distract himself from his own shame. Either way, Urko welcomed it. In that moment, Urko realized he didn't care about a lot of things; he didn't care that Galen was a chimpanzee, that his body was mutilated beyond repair, that Yalu would never approve. He wanted him. And he would have him.

They stripped one another and bobbed in place. Galen was nothing like Brisha. The chimp knew exactly where to touch and bite and hump, and he made Urko feel things he had never felt before. Galen was an expert. He was graceful. He was skilled. He had done this before.

And when they were done, the chimp lay beneath him, his own breaths short and sharp. Urko ran his hands over his scars, still at a loss as to how real they were, and how obscenely they spread. 

"You're good at this," Urko told him quietly. "Who was it... before me?"

"I can't say," the chimp whispered.

"This ape, was he why you did this?" Urko pressed at a scar across the ribs.

"I don't know."

Urko rolled off him. He held Galen close and took in the scent of his fur. "It's all right. It was a mistake and it's over. I can fix you." And we'll go back to what we used to be.

Galen said nothing, and when Urko next looked to him, rain had fallen on the chimp's face. It looked like he was crying. 

What they had moments before was beautiful, a surge of energy Urko had never expected. But now an air of disappointment lingered above them both, everything unsaid but enough to tell Urko that he would never have Galen again. The chimp gathered his clothes and limped away, Urko watching his backside from the grass, still numbed by the rain. One of them had apologized. Urko did not remember who.

True to his prediction, Urko was demoted from sentry and ordered to scrub the school floors instead. Every now and then, he would catch sight of the chimp's head. Galen was always the last to leave his classes, head hidden with a pile of books, body shrinking into shadows. A distinct unhappiness followed him, and it kept Urko from approaching. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted from Galen anymore. And he wondered if he ever loved that chimp in the first place- if maybe, what he'd loved had been Galen's image instead. He was a flower among the weeds of Urko's landscape, and now it wilted, and Galen was no different from everything else around.

The doubt burned at Urko. It bit him and cursed him. And it guilted him deeply, but he did not know what to say. Because words came hard, and he was hardly learned. Then, one day, Galen greeted him as he passed the hall, a stack of orange and red wedged in his book. 

"What's that?" the gorilla asked.

"A snapdragon. I think it's interesting."

And for a while, Galen was back to his habit of pressing petals. He looked up when he walked, smiled once more, and spoke to Urko as if nothing had changed. But something had. There was a spring in the chimp's step, barely noticeable given his demeanor, but there all the same. And it was not for Urko. Galen told him her name eventually: Phima. She was a chimp who'd left him little gifts in his desk, "the prettiest flowers, like the ones we picked as children" he'd said. But they had never gone to the meadow again, not after...

And as the semester came to a close, so did Galen and Phima. Urko watched them in the fields, shyly walking side by side at first. Then they lay in the grass and read. Besides Urko, Galen only ever talked to Phima; what he said was no consequence to Urko. But he knew the female was taken with him. She adored his soft voice, the sad bearing in his gait, the philosophies that spouted from his mouth. He was a poet and he was handsome. Urko knew all of this, and it didn't faze him- because he had seen Galen before he'd been broken, had known just how bright he was. This was a shadow that walked about, and it almost disgusted him.

Once, as Urko cleaved the grass, he found the chimps tangled in each other's arms. And they'd merely laughed while he turned away. Then he remembered who Phima was; she had been the female that day in the hall, when their classmates dragged Galen out and forced him to strip. He put two and two together, and suspected Phima had given Galen the flower as an apology. One thing lead to another. And chest clenching, Urko realized they'd probably be married.

But that never happened. When summer came, Urko found Phima on the stairs alone, Galen again hunched into nothing as he ran away. 

"How did you stand him in the lower classes?" the female said, "you're Urko, aren't you? His best friend?"

"We haven't been friends in a long time," Urko said truthfully, the words finally rolling off his tongue. And he wished the opposite were true.

"It's over between us, you know. If you want him back, gorilla, go ahead."

"How-"

"Everyone knows you were together. I was glad he liked females too." She looked down. "Is this how it ended between you and him?"

"What ended. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what I mean. He lures you in with his sweetness, but then... then I find out it could never work."

"You're speaking nonsense," Urko grumbled, turning away.

"I thought you'd understand. It didn't work with you or me. I don't think it could ever work with anyone, because he's too." And quietly, she said, "Damaged."

"No, he's not!"

Urko stormed off, and that was that. But his defense was empty, and inside, he knew he'd thought what she said to be true. The next day, his application returned, and he reported to the training academy in two days' time. He did not tell Galen. And the chimp never wrote. And for a while, Galen moved to the back of his mind. He had officers to obey and tasks to handle. There was training day in and day out, and exam after exam to pass and cheat and cheat again. When he ran low on money, he forsook sleep for odd jobs and took to fixing races. His mother was dead and Brisha was gone, and Galen had been left behind. All Urko had was Urko, and that was just as well.

He did not hear about Galen until the Festival of Cleo, where the guards paraded, and he met the acquaintance of Councillor Jean. Whatever Phima had said to Galen had some profound effect, for he was much different from the ape Urko left in school. The chimp was practically a socialite, according to Jean; he attended all his father's parties and mingled with each guest as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Galen charmed his way up the ranks of his own institute, and was the youngest to hold a position. He would be a professor in short time. Perhaps Yalu's son did have merit, but to Jean, Galen's greatest talent was his ability to forge connections with sheer willpower alone. 

"And the strangest thing," Jean said, "is that your friend never shows his intentions until after the fact. Clever one."

And when Urko was placed as a guard in an academia party, he saw Galen again. The chimp was radiant. He joked and laughed all evening, a goblet of wine never leaving his hand, sparks in his eyes and his whole body upright with joy. But it was calculating, it was staged, and as far as Urko could tell, it was not Galen. And he told Galen to his face when the guests had cleared. But Galen only laughed, a larkspur pinned to his green robe.

"My dear Urko," the chimp said, "I think I've simply found my calling. I do very much like being around others. And the way I acted in the past, it was terrible for my father's reputation. I'd brought enough shame to his repute, you know."

"So what is this, your redemption?"

"No, no, it's easier than that. I don't want to live in Yalu's shadow anymore. I've done enough to please him, more than enough. Is it really so bad to please myself for once?"

"Galen, listen to yourself. If your mouth wasn't so full of human waste, I'd stuff it between your lips myself."

"I never did like how coarse you were."

"And I hated how posh you were."

"Hm. Then I suppose we never liked each other much in the first place."

"I suppose that's true."

Galen leaned forward, stood on his toes until his lips almost met Urko's, and said, "I need to leave now, Urko."

The next time Urko saw Galen was five years later, when he'd graduated from the academy and worked his way to captain. For the past five years, he'd eaten lunch at a stand in the city, and there, he'd met a cook named Elta. She was a gorilla and she was the love of his life. The last he heard from Jean, and Axe, who was now interning on the Council, Galen was engaged to a chimp named Kira, his colleague from the institute. That had been three years ago. Two years later, he heard the pair had separated, and an old classmate's words circled back to his mind- I don't think it could ever work with anyone.

Urko was patrolling outside the institute when Galen hopped out. They met each other's gaze and held, waiting for the first to speak.

"I'm getting married," the gorilla said at last, "her name is Elta."

He didn't know what he hoped the chimp would say. But some part of him, some buried, shameful part of him had hoped Galen would take the news with shock, if only to prove that he had never imagined this between them.

"She sounds wonderful," Galen said. He smiled. "Congratulations... captain."

Urko nodded. "Thank you... professor."

And that was the last time Urko spoke to Galen. He only nodded afterwards, and then, nothing at all. When they again spoke, it would be with nothing but vile and hate, and all else forgotten for good. 

Galen had loved Urko, loved him more than anything in the world. But he hadn't wanted Urko to call him damaged, to believe him in need of fixing. What he had really wanted, all those years ago in the meadow, was to hear Urko say, "It wasn't your fault."

But he did not hear those words until many years later. And they did not come from the mouth of an ape. They came from a man. A man who fell from the sky.

Chapter Text

The sky was crumbling into dusk by the time they reached the door of Dr. Marius. Galen was at the lead, fidgeting with his hands, nerves on edge. And inches behind him, the two men followed, more out of necessity than deference. The chimp glanced behind, met with a fair head against black. Virdon and Burke appeared to be huddling, their mouths set in grim lines. Galen had yet to know if they made a handsome pair by human standards, but to himself at least, there was something pleasant in their bearings, a refined intelligence that was almost beautiful. He'd grown used to that spark of loveliness- one way or another- and it still managed to move him each time.

"There's no need to be scared," he told them, again accustomed to their faces, "Dr. Marius is a very good friend of mine."

Burke scoffed. "We're not scared, Galen. Humans don't have fur, you know?"

"We're cold," Virdon added.

"So could you hurry and get this over with?" the other astro-naut said. "Might as well find out if your friend's plannin' to kill us or not."

"He's not-" The chimp swallowed; he had called Marius a friend, and he supposed the elder ape still was. "He's not going to hurt you." That much was true.

And with that, he gathered his bearings. Galen went straight to the door of the cottage- older, but it had always been old, its memory having not yet faded from his childhood- and knocked. Although he had hoped Marius would answer, some sting of dread settled in his chest when the door did swing open. In black robes, the older chimp stood, not quite as tall as he had been all those years ago, and not quite as handsome, but the demeanor of a scholar was still there: wise, calm, charismatic, everything that had once drawn the younger ape to him in the first place.

"Who is it?" Marius said. 

Marius had always been a smart simian. The words had left his mouth, but Galen had seen the recognition pass in the ape's eyes and that same happiness he'd seen before. Marius knew. And as the dread continued to sink, Galen knew his plan had worked. They were safe for the night, perhaps more, if he played his cards right. And what those cards were, his companions had no need to know.

"Marius," the Galen said, taking the other chimp by the elbow, "come, let's speak inside. May my... servants follow?" He heard a breath behind him, the barest of hitches. Burke had tensed at the term, despite Galen's insistence that it was the best cover they had. Easy for you to say, had been the quip returned. 

The ape glanced over him (as he had done that night when-), and squinted. "I'm not fond of human help, but for you, I'll make the exception. Come."

Nodding, Galen followed him in, the men coming after sharing a mutual glance. And once the door shut, Galen told him everything that the authorities had already said, for there was no point in denying that they were indeed fugitives and they indeed had a great secret. In the end, Marius embraced him, and mechanically, the chimp hugged him back. Then the professor went to the astronauts, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. 

"They're not fond of being touched," Galen found himself blurting.

His friends shared another glance, but said nothing to contradict him. Instead, Virdon agreed: "Things were quite different for us. I hope you understand, doctor."

"I can't say I do, but I don't profess to being a keeper of men," Marius said.

And then, as Galen had expected, Marius was good to them. But Marius had always been good to him. He broke bread with them and prepared soup. They were welcome to stay as long as need be, and in this case, until Urko's troops returned to the capital. In the meantime, Marius would provide them with lodging and pass off Galen as his nephew from the west, come to convalesce from illness in the weather of the east. Burke and Virdon were Galen's servants, and they would be gone once their master recovered. Marius had the means to forge the right papers should anyone ask, and he had more than enough means to provide the trio with funds on the way out. They had traversed half the country already, but there was another half to be comb through- and the men made it clear they would not stop until their computer was found. 

Yalu and Ann could only help them so much out west. The east was another frontier, and as far as Galen was concerned, that made Marius indispensable. 

"Bit of a stickler," Burke said to Galen, "but your guy's not so bad." Those were supposed to be words of comfort, but Galen found himself too tightly wound to appreciate the sentiment. With a dash of guilt, he did not reply Pete, and he knew full well how rare it was for the man to offer words like that.

 Virdon said nothing, save the minimal thanks. And when it came time to rest, Marius ushered the men to his guest room. 

"Galen stayed in this very room for one summer," the ape recalled, "I have many stories from that time if you'd care to hear."

"Really? Even more stories?" Burke said, with a grin at Galen, "anything you don't want us to hear, pal?"

"Drop it, Pete." Virdon yawned. "It's late and we better rest while we can. Who knows how long it'll be until we see another bed."

"Yeah. Human comfort isn't exactly on any of your priority lists." Then, with some laughs, the men thanked their host, and though it was just subtle enough to escape Marius, Galen suspected that laughter to be forced- neither human planned to really sleep for the night, at least not until Marius won their trust.

"I wrote to you so many times," Marius told him later, after they'd shared a pot of tea and settled in the older chimp's bedroom. "You only answered twice. What happened to Kira?"

"We broke off the engagement." Galen's eyes shifted, landing on anything but Marius- the curtains were the same shade of green, but the bed was far less spacious, perhaps because he had grown bigger. And the soft flame of candlelight glowed in the night; if not for the sounds of the men in the room over, he would have thought himself back in that summer (listening to the heartbeat above, wondering, wondering, and thinking if maybe he had deserved this after all). 

"Why?"

"We drifted apart. I suppose."

"Yes, that does happen when minds aren't inclined. But I'm glad you came to see me, Galen. I've missed you."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you."

Marius was touching him, gentle hands on his shoulders (so warm and gentle and loving). "Not at all, Galen. It does wound me you've only come when you're in such deep trouble. But I will do all in my power to help you."

Those hands began massaging him, gingerly rolling against his nerves. But far too close to the flesh under fabric, and the scars beneath. Galen grabbed the chimp's wrists, stopping Marius from going on. "You- you must help all of us, Marius. My friends need you to keep them safe. We'll repay you- I can have my father send you money."

"Of course, of course. But you know me better than that- I've never cared for money and its ills."

He did know him better than that. And shuddering, Galen fell on his back, the bed catching his spine as Marius dipped down. In the dark, even if he shed those robes, Marius could not see the scars, aged and ragged as they were. In the dark, Marius could not see his face freeze, could not see the tremble in his throat. The first time this had happened, he had whispered, not for Yalu or Ann, but for- "Urko, save me." 

But that was a memory left for the past. Marius lay beside him, the heat of his body too close to Galen's own. The older chimp made to touch him again, and Galen stopped his hand.

"I'm awfully tired," he said, "can this wait for another day, Marius? And I've been on the run for so long. I'm... sorely out of practice."

Marius chuckled. "I see. The comfort of a guest has always been important to me. Would you like the bed to yourself then, for tonight?"

"I can't take your bed, Marius. I'll go back to your sitting room."

"I insist."

Galen sat up, then, and shook his head. He thanked Marius quietly for the tea and left. When the door shut behind him, his legs were already quivering. Breaths uneven, he stood for a while longer, trying to purge all these useless thoughts. Marius was but a friend, and he had more pressing matters at hand than some childhood feelings. And Marius had always been so kind to him. When he hadn't a friend in the world, Marius was there for him. Yes, he would never have made it this far if not for Marius. He was only here again because Urko had chased them here; his nerves were on fire because of Urko's proximity, because the gorilla was quite prepared to kill them all. 

And he simply did not have the time to properly accept the old professor's favor. That must have been it.

Galen did not sleep a wink that night. Instead, he sat awake in the sitting room, idly touching the wrinkled patch on his abdomen and thinking back to a letter he'd once written. He had written everything in that letter, scribbled madly until he could no longer write. My dear Urko, I'm sorry- and then he had confessed everything. Then he'd ripped the paper apart and buried its shreds right there in Marius' backyard. Dear Urko. He couldn't utter those words without laughing now. The gorilla was a violent pest, a close-minded brute that represented all the ills of apekind.

In the morning, Marius treated his guests to breakfast and the glimmer in his eyes suggested he shared Galen's fascination with the humans. Though their answers were reserved, the men were amicable enough and they answered the chimp with an easy pleasure. And as the pit continued to sink his twisting stomach, Galen found himself surprisingly jealous of his friends, which was a shameful thing to feel, given Burke and Virdon's tragic circumstances. But as they all sat together at Marius' table, Galen wished he could laugh beside the older ape again, look at him as he did when he was a student, and feel the same euphoria he'd once known.

"I hope you won't mind, Pet-er, A-lan. But I'd like to catch up with my pupil for a while," Marius told the men, "and I think it's safer that you two stay indoors for the time being."

There was a moment when neither men said anything, as if expecting Galen to answer for them. He should have insisted Marius let them follow, he knew; the men hated being imprisoned, even when they were free. But he never replied.

"I think you're right," Virdon said. And that ended it there.

The walk was pleasant enough, only a few rounds through the woods beyond Marius' home. It was the most peaceful trot Galen had been on in months, but he somehow found it more harrowing than all of Urko's chases. Marius clapped him on the back every now and then, pointed out birds to him, and spoke of little things that the younger chimp answered with a polite nod and smile. Marius had taken him on this path many times before. And each time-

"I was so lonely after you'd gone," Marius confessed. "I wish I'd never fallen for your charm, but I know that's impossible."

"I- I know I can't make it up to you."

"I loved you, Galen. None could fill the void you left."

None- there had been more? And whatever that pit was stopped. It shriveled and left Galen hollow. He had forced himself to love Marius many times, to say that once upon a time, they had no one but each other. 

"I'm very sorry," Galen said, realizing that he meant it.

He felt Marius' hand slipping into his own. He felt lips on his own. He felt himself kiss back, instinctively, warmly. And as soon as that instinct passed, he was reminded of where he was, who he was- and the nausea returned. So he turned it off. And he did the exact same things he had done back then. Perhaps he did love Marius after all; there was nothing stopping him from recoiling, from refusing. Or maybe there was. Back then, it had been- and now, it was-

Payment. It had always been payment for something or the other. And he always did owe Marius- his friend, his mentor- some sort of debt. 

"What have you done?" Marius gasped.

"What?" Galen looked down, to where Marius had pulled his robe away. The sun shone over what remained of the scars, white and pink against black fur. 

"This is unsightly, Galen!"

"Marius-"

"It's alright," Marius said, pulling him into a hug, "it's alright. This is nothing that can't be fixed. It's the mind that matters, that's all that matters."

Galen lightly pushed him away. He stood up and threw the robe back on, feeling painstakingly sluggish as he covered everything once more. There was more Marius hadn't seen, under the pants he'd yet to remove. Marius had not been the first one to react this way- others had before, Kira, Phima, Ur- but Marius was not supposed to be like them. And Galen was not supposed to do this again.

"Yes, it is all that matters," Galen repeated.

When they returned to the cottage, the men had been waiting by the window playing some game called "I spy" (they'd taught Galen once and he'd dismissed it as pointless, and then they'd called him a sore loser). 

"Was it cold out?" Virdon asked.

"No, it was quite warm. Very nice," Galen said.

"If you say so." Burke walked past him, taking the time to pull up the chimp's collar. If it had been sagging before, Galen failed to notice. And if he had noticed, then perhaps he could have saved them all the trouble of what followed.

He lay in Marius' bed that night, staring listlessly at the ceiling until he was sure the men had fallen asleep in the room over. The sheets were crushed. The candle was barely enough for Galen to make out Marius' shape and that was just as well. And in the dark, Marius himself could not see those unsightly scars. He could hear the other chimp's breaths as he rolled above him, as he pressed in, as he pulled and tugged and bit. And he reacted on instinct, gagging on an all too familiar taste as he felt the blood come loose. It was certainly more pleasurable now than it had been back then, but it was nothing like with-

"I love you," the other chimp said.

"I love you too." He would say anything now. He always did. Because even after all those years of doubt and guilt, a part of him must have loved Marius to the end.

He must have. He must have. There was no other explanation, no other option, no other-

"Hey!" The door was open. And in the middle of the candlelight, Burke stood, wide awake. "We heard horses. Galen, we've got to go."

The chimp was frozen, Marius dumbstruck atop him. And without so much as a blink, Burke walked towards them. On cue, Marius sat up and Burke pulled his companion away. Shaky, Galen wiggled into his clothes. Marius raised a hand to help him, but Burke beat him to it. The older chimp could only sit, staring awkwardly as Burke helped Galen dress, not a word on the human's lips.

"Marius, I-" Galen began. Burke cut him off. "Thanks for everything. You've got our gratitude, but we can't stay any longer. We won't put you in danger."

"Danger?"

"Stay put, Marius. Don't come out until the sun rises," Burke ordered, and as the disoriented chimp sat, too daze to process the fact that a human had just commanded him, Galen found himself ushered out of the room, and then out of the cottage altogether.

When at last his wits came together, Galen looked to Burke and snapped, "Horses!? How- is Urko nearby, where's Alan, what-"

Burke shushed him, again and again. "There are no horses. We're leaving your buddy behind. We don't need him."

"I don't understand. Why- why would you lie to me?"

Burke's hands were on his shoulders. "Why would I lie to you? You woke us up with all your damn screaming."

"You had no right to disturb us!"

"I saved your furry ass, that's what I did!" 

Galen grit his teeth and turned, only for Burke to yank him back around. Dark eyes met dark eyes, and the chimp saw nothing but unbridled rage. 

"Hey! I've fucked before," the man rasped, "and nobody, nobody screams like that unless they're havin' a bad time."

Galen laughed, flabbergasted. "I've done this before too, Pete. And it's never been a 'bad time.' Marius would never hurt me. But he might hurt you, so let's go back and apologize so we can put all this behind us-"

"Apologize for what?"

He spun around. Virdon stood before him, drawn to his full height, arms crossed. Galen had never deferred to a human before, but Virdon was another stock entirely. The chimp flinched against his own accord. 

"Why, for lying! For scaring someone who's helping us! For-"

"For nothing," the man said, the cold simmer in his voice twice as terrifying as Burke's rage before, "we're humans, but we're not blind. I've seen enough in my life to know Marius isn't a friend. So you better have a good explanation for why we're going back there."

"Fine!" Galen took a moment to swallow. He shook the tremble from his voice. "Marius was my lover. Is it so wrong, then, to be lovers with him?"

"It's not wrong." Virdon's glare held him in place. "If you can tell us why."

"Oh!" He wanted to look down, but simply could not. "He... opened my mind to new possibilities. If not for him, I may not even be here with you. And he-"

Galen could not swallow the other words, try as he might. "He was there for me when nobody else was. When I was at my worst-"

"And this isn't your worst?" Burke said. Galen ignored him and glared.

"At my most selfish, my most brutish. He knew of these flaws and gave himself to me regardless. He could have told the school of my behavior any time, but he chose not to- to protect me. You don't understand all he's done for me and would have done."

Virdon's face did not change. But Burke's had, to something entirely unreadable.

"So let's just go back," Galen said.

"How old were you?" Virdon shot.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said he was your 'secondary' instructor. Galen, how old were you?"

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Answer the damn question."

"I don't see the purpose."

"Were you old enough to work?"

"I-"

"Old enough to marry? To mate? To even know what he was asking you to do?"

The older man was softening, and it did nothing to put Galen at ease. He could feel the blood leaving his own face. He couldn't answer, not here, not now, not after all this time, when he'd finally put everything to rest.

"Did he say you seduced him? Did he even let you make new friends?

"And what difference does it make!? He only ever loved me, and I was selfish, even now, I'm asking him to put his life on the line for us. Don't speak so ill of him."

"Hell!" Burke cried, "Galen, are you listening to yourself? We were there for you, not him! Especially not him!"

That was it. Because he had listened. And he knew who was right. Galen turned, away from the men, away from the cottage, and began storming away. He should never have thought humans, however intelligent, could grasp what it was between him and Marius. 

"So you were a child," he heard Virdon say calmly, "and he blackmailed you into having sex. Then he raped you, who knows how many times, and told you it was your fault."

That was such a vulgar word, so far away from his world. Things like that did not happen in Galen's world because it was a thing done by beasts. And what would Virdon know?

"I can't expect men to understand," Galen said between grit teeth, hoping his words would sting them as much as their words had stung him. But there was no quip returned. Instead, he heard, very clearly-

"Galen, I'm going back to him right now. I'm going to kill him."

That stopped the chimp in his tracks. He spun around, eyes wide. The humans were gone.

The hunt had gone on long enough, with far too little success, and some gut feeling told Urko he only had so little time left to make his catch. The Council was growing impatient, as were his own underlings. Only half the patrol had been willing to make the cross country trek with him, and a quarter of their budget had been allotted for the journey. Zaius had threatened more cuts if he should fail again (they had stopped counting the failures by then); so long as the fugitives were out of their fur, the trio could stay as far from the west as they wanted. 

Angry, Urko gnashed into what remained of his orange, the juice spraying over his lips. These fruits were all he could afford now, and he was one step away from simply storming that village and demanding supplies through brute strength. Nothing was going the way he'd hoped (for what felt like years on end), and his blood was constantly boiling. Again and again, Burke and Virdon (and it did enrage him to acknowledge their names) escaped his grasp, by just a breadth and inch. Humans, of all things, should never have been so hard to catch or so eager to fight back. When he couldn't sleep, the general wanted nothing more than to grind their bones to dust, or put a bullet through each skull- either option, he could settle for.

Then there was that traitor. The chimp's name, Urko was even less inclined to recall. Urko had once- and now it disgusted him, the mere thought of what he'd had with that deranged ape. If- when- Urko caught him, he'd see to it that the chimp didn't die until they lobotomized him, until all the wrong parts of his perverted brain were cut out and burnt to ash. And then maybe the chimp would go back to what he was before. The gorilla shook his head; that was wishful thinking and he was well beyond those years.

"Alan-"

That was Virdon's name. Urko stopped, the last of the orange swallowed. And only then did he notice where his wandering had taken him, a good distant from the soldier's camp and en route to the town ahead. But in between, he found he had yet to glance through. He ducked behind a bush and pressed himself to a tree trunk, helmet yanked off. From gaps in the foliage, he could see the barest outlines of two men, one marching much faster than the other.

"Alan," the voice said again in a hushed whisper, "are you crazy? We've got enough reasons to be in trouble. Now you want another one?"

"You don't have to come with me. Go sulk in the woods with Galen then."

"Damn it, Al. So what's this, we did the time, so now you're doing the crime?"

"It's not a crime. I'm doing this world a favor."

Burke's figure caught up with Virdon, all but ramming himself into the other man.

"I'm as pissed as you are, Al, but use your head. Marius ain't worth it."

Marius? Urko remembered that name, a distant word he'd once read in passing. 

"You wouldn't understand. You and Galen both. But I'm a father, and if another man touched my son, did what he did, I wouldn't know what I'd do. Now I do."

Burke sighed. "I want to cut off the bastard's balls as much as you... but now's not the time. Alan-"

Virdon had walked on. After a beat of hesitation, Burke followed. And slowly, Urko did as well, keeping to their backs until the two arrived at a cottage in a clearing. Professor Marius. Unblinking, Urko stood, some voice telling him he should prevent the murder of this ape. Another told him to let them commit the crime- yet another reason for him to carry through with his crusade. But he listened to neither. The third voice was not his at all; "I can't say," that chimp had once whispered. And then he knew. It all came together, because what had broken them apart so long ago was no human. It was him. Marius.

Urko grit his teeth, the taste of citrus gone. He watched the humans enter the cottage. He followed.

A gunshot.

Blood frozen, Galen turned, instinct telling him to rush for the cottage. But who would he stop when he arrived? Was there anything left to stop? He didn't know, but there was a certainty that he feared less for Marius' fate and more for Virdon and Burke, should they actually succeed. Beware the beast called man, the scrolls had decreed. That was all the evidence the town needed, all the evidence to send his friends to the gallows or worse. Virdon would never have killed in cold blood, not until now, and even now, it was not cold. Far from it. The man's blood was burning.

And it all looped back to Galen himself. It had been his fault then, his fault now. No, shoot me! Shoot me! he'd wanted to shout, at who, he didn't know. Perhaps Marius, perhaps Virdon, even Burke, and in all his guilt, he'd stand and let them each take a shot point blank. 

"Alan!" he cried, the name sprung from the top of his lungs.

He shouted again and again as he broke into the cottage, past where the men had obviously struggled, and into the open door of Marius' room. His old mentor lay crumpled by the bed, gaze glossed over. Crimson spread from a hole in his head, pooling into one eye, and seeping into the ground. Galen dropped beside him, unsure if he should touch the wound, unsure if he should mourn. He shuddered, the reality suddenly too much to bear when a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Come on," Burke said, himself shaken. 

"Alan- did- did he?"

Burke made to answer when the butt of a rifle collided with his head ("Pete!"). The man went down with a hard gasp, a streak of blood splitting from his dark hair. And behind him, Urko loomed, glower hard on Galen's face. The gorilla jabbed his chest with the weapon.

"Take the human and come with me. You're under arrest- and if you get any ideas, I'm blowing his brains out."

What the runaways had supposedly done was punishable by death, and in the chimp's case, it would be his second murder of another ape. The brief thought filled Urko with some glee as his prisoners were carted away. The journey back to the City would be too long, and he'd learned by now his enemies had more than enough tricks up their sleeve. But he'd caught two, so the third was sure to follow. In the meantime, he'd seen them locked them up in the local prison while an emissary was sent back west. The council would send a new patrol of escorts up, and the final fate of the prisoners would be decided upon transport back to Zaius.

The human had little way of escaping his cell, but Urko had taken pleasure in binding his wrists anyway, satisfied when the ropes cut in. And when Burke awoke, it was with a groan, no doubt from a sore ache in the head. A purple shiner had appeared at his temple, and bits of those dark curls were stuck in dry clumped blood. He didn't look particularly intelligent in that disheveled form, and Urko made sure to tell him that.

"You were never much of a looker yourself," Burke replied. He grinned dryly. 

Grunting, Urko kicked the cell bars, but Burke stayed unfazed. 

"I'll save you for last," the gorilla growled, "I'll make you watch Virdon die first. Then that traitor. You'll be begging me for death by the end of this."

The threat seemed to go through. Burke thrust himself at the bars, much too defiantly for Urko's taste, and hissed, "You lay one finger on them, Urko, one finger."

It was Urko's turn to smile. "I'll do more than just that." And as Burke yelled behind him, he slipped away.

The traitor's cell had a different atmosphere. The chimp sat in the corner, huddled to himself, so defeated Urko wondered if someone had told him the other two were already dead. But the pathetic sight filled him with nothing but a vague rage. Urko entered the cell and locked the bars behind.

"Galen," the gorilla said, that name poisoned, "Marius is dead."

"I know. I had no idea it would end this way."

"I don't think you're very sorry. You of all apes had the most motivation to kill him." Urko waited for him to respond, hoping for some spark of pleasure in the chimp's eyes.

"I loved Marius."

"Yes, as you loved Kira, Phima-" Me.

For a moment, Galen seemed to snap out of self pity. He looked to Urko and said, "What of my companions? Are they alive?"

Urko held his gaze, the answer silenced. Galen waited, the air pregnant. And eyes wide, he lunged, latching onto Urko's legs, certainly begging as he spoke, "Urko, do they live? I saw nothing, they're not murderers, they're not beasts- tell me, please tell me you've let them live- Urko-"

Urko smacked him aside, fist crunching into the chimp's face. Galen reeled and hit the wall. As he recovered, Urko pulled him forward by the collar, noting the split lip and gathering blood. By the snowdrops, he'd punched Galen, once upon a time. Then, never again, for he could never bring himself to hurt the chimp. And he admitted now, that it felt good, that it felt good to deal all he'd suffered for this traitor back to him. He'd never ordered his troops to pull their punches and he'd taken his fair amount of gunshots at Galen, but like this- never. 

Because somewhere deep down, he still lacked the heart to harm what was once his. But hearing those words now, watching that pitiful spiel, and hearing- "I loved Marius"- it was enough for whatever affection remained to snap and die.

Urko pulled another fist back. Galen went down. And he pulled the chimp right back up. He struck again, square in the nose. Galen fell. His blood spread. Urko pulled. He punched. Galen was down. Urko pulled. He punched. You always wanted to run away. He pulled. You were always sick in the head. He punched. You were always a damaged piece of man-loving shit. Galen was down. And those humans are the only ones stupid enough- He pulled.  He punched. -Not to notice how sick you are. He punched. He punched. He punched. He punched. And he punched again. His fists slammed down, sometimes booted feet following suit, and once, twice, thrice, he heard the chimp cry out. He hoped Burke could hear.

Fingers dripping with Galen's blood, he lifted the chimp and rammed his head into the nearest wall, hard enough to hear a loud crack. Urko let go, and Galen sunk to a beaten pile, too dizzy to do anything save whimper. A red dent appeared on the stone.

"You always thought yourself too good for the rest of us," Urko told him, winded from the beating, "well, look at you now! Nothing's going to save you or your humans, so you better start praying to the lawgiver."

"Urko," Galen gasped, "then they're alive?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" the gorilla scoffed.

Galen dragged himself up, desperately wiping the blood from his nose, and again tried to touch where Urko stood. "Don't hurt them, Urko. I'll do anything, I will-"

He didn't want to hear more of this. Urko grabbed that hand, yanking it aside. He squeezed with all the strength he had. He heard two, if not three, fingers crunch, and Galen cry out. Urko clobbered him once more and pressed himself atop the chimp, humping through the fabric of his own pants. He felt Galen bob back.

"I knew you were Marius' whore," Urko hissed, "you never had any honor."

"Urko-"

Galen moaned, Urko rubbing hard.

"Do you pleasure your humans too? Are you that sick?"

"Urko-"

"I hate you, Galen. I detest you more than those human bastards. And if you think there's any way I would ever want your filthy, disfigured body again- you're even crazier than I thought."

He rolled off, leaving Galen to choke and whimper on his own. The chimp tried to gather himself, rummaging on the ground for the least painful method of sitting up. 

"Please, Urko, leave them be-"

For good measure, Urko brought his foot down again, crushing what remained of Galen's good hand.

Galen groaned, cursing to himself as Urko took his leave, the gorilla no doubt frustrated by their conversation (or lack thereof). He propped himself up, biting back yelps of pain as broken hands scraped the floor. Red splattered. He licked his lips, the blood from his nose sliding down without pause. Urko must have truly hated him then, but why leave him alive? He grit his teeth, muffling moans as he reached under his robes, fumbling until he touched what he'd stolen from the general.

My dear Urko, you underestimate me.

He stumbled over to the cell door, and seeing no one else around, let loose one key. The cell clicked open, and he jumped out. That was the easy part, he supposed. Still aching, he made his way along the walls, dimly lit by torchlight. He was thankful for Urko's beating- a lot of unwanted thoughts had been knocked out of him, and now his focus was singular: find Burke. Find Burke first, then all would come into place. Around the corner, he saw the shape of a guard. As the ape turned, Galen wiggled out of his shoes, just quick enough to pounce and leave the guard out cold- another thing he should thank Urko for; that beating had rendered him numb to all other pain.

Wincing, he undressed the guard with his feet, unused to the dexterity of toes, simian or otherwise, and tossed the outfit over himself. The helmet sat askew, but it kept his face in enough shadow to make the trip onward. The more he walked (or perhaps limped, he couldn't quite tell), the more he heard of a dim whistle, and a quick, "Shut up, human!" which only prompted the whistling to increase. He crossed paths with another guard on the way, and once he turned the next corner, Burke was there, his face battered.

The man was leaning against the bars of his cell, lost in angry thought. Burke made no move to acknowledge the new arrival, but that whistling abruptly stopped when Galen stumbled against the cell door. 

"Pete," the chimp whispered, "it's me. I'm going to get you out."

"Galen? Talk about ape of a thousand faces..."

The keys jangled while Galen tried them out, fingers tangling over one another as they struggled to move. 

"Pete, are you alright?"

"I've had worse." Then, quieter, the man said, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine." Those words were accompanied by the dripping of blood, spot over spot splashing down. Galen rubbed a sleeve over his nose, and that did nothing save make the bleeding worse.

"Then why are- damn it, are your hands broken? Urko couldn't have just broken one?"

"Pete, please, I'm trying to concentrate."

"You whine over every little thing, but broken hands aren't a big deal? You're really something. Wait, does this mean we have to feed you after this? With a spoon and all?"

Galen could hear the chuckle in Burke's voice, and for the moment, it was not appreciated. "Yes, yes mock me all you want. After you're released?"

And finally, the door clicked open, just as Burke stepped forward and the helmet slipped off. Dazed, Galen looked up, finding himself shaking in Burke's arms. The bruise on Burke's face really did look terrible up close. He was about to say so when the human's face scrunched. 

"You're not okay," Burke said. "Shit, Galen, sit down."

The chimp felt Burke prop him against the wall, the cell behind them, and dab at the bloodied nose. Burke never asked who caused the damage, as if he knew it was Urko- though he supposed Burke may have been curious as to why. Urko. To tell the man of what he'd had with Urko would have been far too much for one night.

"Pete, I- I'm sorry. I should never have dragged you or Alan into my personal life. I never expected it to end like this."

"Yeah, well, we've been dragging you into our lives since day one. Guess we're even."

Burke ripped off strips of the guard's sleeves, now set on bundling the chimp's fingers. 

"And I'm sorry for what I said," Galen went on, "for everything. Forgive me."

"It's not your fault."

"But your head-"

The man put his hands on Galen's face, forcing the chimp to look him straight in the eye. And slow, pained, he said, "It wasn't your fault."

Burke was not talking about the bruise. The man kept him still, gaze unbreaking, that same seething look underneath. It wasn't your fault. The words struck hard, sharper than anything else that had been spoken to him that night. And Burke had announced it with such conviction, such ferocity, that Galen-

Marius had promised to further his father's career. Marius had taken him to the summit, guiding him by the arm. In the woods, Marius had told him what to do, had kept his head pinned and berated him when he cried. Marius had taught him how to make love. Marius had told him his health was a disgrace to Yalu's family name. Marius had threatened to charge him with misconduct, to throw Yalu's reputation down the drains. Marius had not liked it when he conversed with other chimps, male or otherwise. 

I loved Marius.

Marius had threatened to expel Urko. Marius had ignored his cries for one whole summer. Marius had touched him when he was too ill to move. When he returned home, he'd been ashamed to see Urko, ashamed to see his parents, ashamed to lift his head; they'd all know, then, that he was too stupid to refuse, too stupid to know what love was. And inside, he knew what he'd been- Urko had been right- he was Marius' whore, whatever that word conveyed.

I loved Marius.

So he set it all afire, in the hopes that he could burn Marius away. And then he lost himself to his studies, his games, his adrenaline, whatever it was that carried him far far away. Because he had loved another the whole time. And now he had neither. Had neither for a long time.

"I hated Marius." 

-that Galen believed him.

He shuddered and said it again. Silent, Burke removed his hands. They didn't have more time to dwell on this, but Galen had nothing left to hide from Burke. The man had peeled it all to its core with a simple four words, words that the chimp never knew he yearned so much to hear.

"Then you're saying Al was right. He's not like you and me. He's got a family- it's different when you're the father, you know? He was always a hero. And he couldn't protect you- that just drove him up the wall. So don't blame him because his only crime is caring about you."

"I should apologize to him as well... Alan asked me how long Marius and I slept together."

"Galen-"

"I spent fifty-two nights in his cottage. I spent twenty in his school quarters. We wandered for forty in his woods." 

Burke's jaw dropped, no doubt a cacophony of thoughts in his brain and none of them pleasant.

"The first time we mated, my body didn't come because I could... not- I was too young."

Galen gulped and stood, helping Burke along in the process. "That's all I have to say. Now my friend, we should leave."

He heard Burke utter "fuck" under his breath. 

"I won't tell Alan," the man told him.

"I know."

"And I wish I'd been the one to kill Marius. Would have gotten both eyes out. His dick too."

Galen smiled. "I know. But you shouldn't resort to murder."

Burke returned it with a soft grin. "There you go again, preaching to the choir."

The chimp slipped out of the guard's uniform, and before long, the pair disappeared through a punctured window, the gorilla's fallen rifle now secure in Burke's hands. They rushed through the night, looking back every now and then and counting the time before their escape would be noted. They did not have to wait long. In what felt like seconds- and what may have been minutes- the patrol was upon them, only for the officers to be felled by a heavy branch from above.

Alan pounced down from a tree, chest heaving and covered in sweat. 

"Al!" Burke cried. 

The three took the moment to reunite before escaping deeper into the woods, Galen finding himself balanced between the two men, their grips strong and neither taking time to question his limp.

"Alan, did you shoot Marius?" he asked at last, when the tension of their run had settled. Should he be delighted if Alan said 'yes'? Enraged? Saddened? Or perhaps Galen should have felt nothing at all. 

After a breathless pause, Alan shook his head. "No."

"Hey, don't look at me," Burke said, "I didn't see it either."

That left an unsettling question on each of their heads. Galen eyed something pink in the grass, swaying, tired, and rimmed with dark violet. Cyclamen. 

"Urko," Galen mumbled.

The gorilla raised his gun, but the mention of his name kept him still. Urko did not feel bad for the throttling he'd delivered, but he did not feel good. The rage had quelled, and there was nothing save a vague emptiness inside, that same feeling he'd had all those years ago by the meadow, when he and Galen...

The chimp and his humans were some distance away, yet to notice where Urko stood. Burke had a weapon, but he'd lowered it to pause for breath. The human cursed his name.

"Then after all that," Virdon said, "he frames us for murder."

"Can't say I'm shocked," Burke added, "bastard's done worse. Damn dirty ape."

"Pete!" Galen gasped. "There's no need to condemn my whole species."

"You're right. Urko probably takes bubble baths every day."

"With roses," Virdon chimed in. "I saw him."

And as the two stared at the gaping chimp, they burst into laughter. Urko did not find it funny. 

"Actually, the only dirty ape around here is you," Burke told Galen, roaming a hand over his bloodied crown. 

"Speak for yourself." The chimp turned away. "I swear-" And froze. He met Urko's eyes. The gorilla tensed.

But all Galen did was step in front of Burke, just enough to block Urko from view. "I'll never understand how the human brain works."

"But you know you love it." Burke grinned, and Urko wanted to shoot his mouth, but that would involve throwing a bullet through Galen's head. Which Urko would not have minded doing, but old impulses were keeping him in place, and now all he could think of was the feeling of Galen whimpering beneath him. He should have known the chimp had some plan afoot- for someone like Galen, someone unafraid to light himself on fire, there was nothing he was incapable of. No lie too low, no action too degrading. 

"Hey, what's this?"

A part of the chimp's sleeve had slipped, revealing the slightest hint of puckered burnt skin. An uncomfortable silence dawned, and for a beat, Urko wondered if Galen would tell them everything.

"Do, do you remember what you were doing some weeks past?" Galen said, somewhat sheepish, "when you were, er, shearing your faces?"

"You mean shaving?" Virdon was bemused.

"I tried that on my arm. It was unpleasant."

Burke was the first to laugh, and Virdon joined in, until the men were chortling upon another. They each wrapped an arm around Galen, and began walking away.

"Trust me," Burke said, "you'd look awful without fur."

Behind them, Urko lowered his gun, heart racing. He'd lied. He'd lied to the men's faces. And then it dawned on him that Galen had known, he'd known Urko was the killer, and he hadn't said a word. Because he knew that the gorilla still lingered on him, because after all these years, a part of Urko still wanted him, still burned for him. But that part of Galen had died, had been dead for a very long time, and he let Urko have his way because he'd been sorry. And as it had been back then, the gorilla understood too late.

He could have dropped his weapon then, and followed, pulled Galen from those men and made him his yet again. He could have pretended the past was past, pretended there was no Marius or Burke or Virdon or Zaius or what-have-you between them, and all would be as it was. But he did not.

Urko had missed that life long ago, as Galen had too. It was not to be. And as a bramble of blue flowers caught his eye, blue petals swaying to and fro in the grass- forget me not- he remembered. He remembered the story of Cleo and her grieving Anto, of Koba and his wretched pain, of the nameless lawgiver and his beloved Caesar, and it all told him what he already knew.

They were not to be.

Galen hobbled into the dawn, the humans at his side, and Urko stood behind, those lonely flowers singing in the wind. 

"My Dear Urko," some small chimp had once written, his chest giddy with thoughts of spring and sun, "I love you."