"I'm the smartest of all of us for many, many reasons," he promised. Tipping back the rest of the small bottle, he set his head on the back of a seat and stared out the window, Manhattan lights sliding by--just fast enough to trail bigger than they were. Without looking, he tossed the empty plastic at Ty's head.

Then sighed. So much of that touch was at odds with the words, but Kira wasn't a kid anymore. He didn't get riled about the lies people told.

As a joke, this would seem a small one, but it was growing with the years. It was bigger for the lie of Kira's silence, punctuated by his rejection. "You won't forget it," was the more ominous but less cutting truth, when it came to Ty and his face.