Earth’s day-night cycle wasn’t as difficult to get used to as Kuji expected. The others were having a harder time, he was sure, but with his condition it was nice to have whole hours with no intense sunlight. The fact that he couldn’t see without assistive technology was a rather large pain, but he could live with it. Carrying around a flashlight was a small price to pay to explore the grounds of their generous host without being fried alive.

Even the times when the sun was out weren’t nearly so bad for him on Earth as they had been on Namek. Yes, Earth was closer to its sun than Namek had been (and it was still strange to think of his home in the past tense), but there weren’t three of them. At noontime, when the sun was at its peak, Kuji retreated indoors to save his sensitive skin. But aside from that, he was able to spend more time outside than he ever had on Namek. It was doing wonders for his skin. Most of his blisters were even starting to heal.

The times when the sun was setting were his favorites. He would sit in the shade of a large tree he’d claimed as his when they first arrived, nearly a month ago now, and watch as it slowly sank over the horizon. The colours the sky turned! Earth’s sky was already a beautiful (if perplexing) shade of blue, but at sunset it went pink and purple and orange and red, turning the white clouds gold and making Kuji’s shadow drag out behind him. It was cool enough to be comfortable, bright enough to see, and dark enough to keep his skin happy. Sunset was wonderful.

Dr. Briefs had loaned Kuji a fairly large flashlight when he found out he’d be spending a lot of time outside after dark. He generally kept it with him wherever he went, tucked into his belt, even if it was bright, so that he wouldn’t have to go and find it if he needed it. It rested on the ground next to him now, as he sat with his legs folded, gazing at the sky. The sun was gone now, the last bits of light fading and being replaced by dark blue. A few tiny flecks of light appeared in the night sky, and Kuji smiled at them. One of those stars was Namek, even if he didn’t know which one. It helped, sometimes, knowing that the memory of his home still hung in this sky--and would, for years to come.

Something was different tonight, though. Kuji sat up straight from where he was leaning against his tree and looked around. Despite the sun being gone, despite it being technically nighttime now, there was still enough light to see by. He frowned. What was this all about?

“Ah, there you are.”

Kuji looked up to see his elder, Thaku, approaching. He bowed his head slightly. “Is something the matter?” he asked. His voice was somewhat gravelly from disuse--he hadn’t spoken for several hours, instead staying by himself in the relatively dim light of the house before coming to watch the sunset alone. He cleared his throat.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Thaku smiled down at him, hands clasped behind him. “We were just wondering where you’d got off to, that’s all.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “Beautiful night.”

“Yes.” Kuji looked up as well. “Unusually bright.”

Thaku nodded at something in the sky. “That likely has something to do with it.”

Kuji turned to look at what Thaku indicated and stared. A glowing white circle hung in the sky, providing light to the earth below. It didn’t give off nearly as much light as the sun, but enough to see by, and it was soft, gentle light, rather than the harsh hot light of daytime. “Earth’s moon,” he said, awe colouring his voice. He’d never seen it look like that before. It came out at night when the sun went down, and Dr. Briefs had said its size and shape changed constantly because of...something, but he’d never seen it look like such a perfect circle. It gave so much light, too...he didn’t know moons could do that. Namek had its own moons, of course--two of them--but they never saw them because they didn’t have night. “It's beautiful,” he murmured.

“Indeed,” Thaku agreed. He looked back at Kuji thoughtfully. “You love this planet, don't you.”

“Yes,” Kuji answered immediately, looking up at his elder. “I can spend time outdoors without fear, and the animals here are wonderful, and even in the dark I can see. It's a great planet.”

Thaku’s smile was suddenly a little sad. “Yes, I thought so.” There was a long silence, both of them returning their attentions to the sky. “You could be very happy here,” Thaku finally said. Kuji looked over at him. “When we leave--if you wanted to--you could stay.”

Kuji blinked. “What?” Stay? Here? On Earth? Without the others? “Elder Thaku, I don’t--”

“Please don’t think we’re trying to get rid of you,” Thaku hastily assured him. “That isn’t the case at all. But when we eventually leave...we’re hoping for a planet with similar conditions to Namek. And here you can spend time outdoors, and...you seem happier here than I ever saw you back home.” Kuji looked away, back up at the moon. “It’s only a suggestion.” Thaku placed a hand on Kuji’s shoulder. “But consider it.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, back towards the rest of their people.

Kuji leaned back against his tree and gazed at the sky. Staying on Earth wasn’t something that had occurred to him. He’d always assumed he’d go with everyone else. The prospect of staying behind on an alien planet without his kin was...actually not as terrifying as he’d thought it would be. He’d always felt a little detached from the others as it was. And he was growing more and more enamored with Earth, and its nighttime.

He stared up at the moon as though his answer would magically appear on it. It didn’t.