The pale moonlight was like a wisp coming in from the cold. The bitter wind flew about our ankles, spiraling up into the abyss of night. Threatening clusters of clouds told a tale of yet more cold, the possible rain. A shivering rain. 

It only made me tug my coat around myself more. Using only one hand, because the other one was around Gyeong-Wan's. His mittened one was keeping it warm. Together, we'd set out to go to the meeting. Just as the wind made me tremble, so did the idea of seeing everyone there. Charlotte, probably handing out warm food to the people arriving, reminding me of refugees from the cold. Ayane and Hiran, if Ayane could make it. I hadn't checked on her since what happened. Sudden guilt flooded me. Her business was so close to the Charlotte's theater. Surely, she would be there? Should I go check to see if she could make it first?

As we walked, slow and lingering, my mind wandered to others. Julia and Colette. They'd left before everything happened, just barely, but knowing Julia they'd probably never be back. The negativity would linger for them, especially for Julia. Julia would never forget what happened. It wasn't a matter of forgetting. It was the fear. Would I ever see them back inside there, talking about video games and seeing Julia's rare smile? 

Then there was Prin and his partner, Somchai. I knew they'd never back down. Somchai was more of a follower, ever since I'd known him. He'd follow Prin anywhere. Prin would fight for what was his, no question. But, they were both getting older. Would they have the ability to fight?

My mind was getting away from me. Skipping from subject to subject, from person to person. We were walking so slowly, that we hadn't made it up the block yet. We were coming from the other way, avoiding the hotel. Neither of us wanted to see it, but that way was so familiar. Going the opposite way to only the next street over felt almost foreign. I'd just taken this path not too long ago, but it was too strange. It was longer, too. 

Neither of us spoke. Just carrying on. As we did, I began to wonder what we'd find. How many people were going to be there? Had Minoru been successful? How many people had the time? It was short notice, though we'd tried to plan. There wasn't much wind in our sails yet, despite how hard we were trying. We had no permit to gather. Certainly no permit to hold a protest. What kinds of things were we going to say at the meeting? How would it be organized? 

Would they expect me to speak? I was an owner of French Cup. But, as we walked, I began to realize this was bigger than French Cup. We'd been through so many more atrocities. In scale, what had happened at Zombie Walk was even bigger than what had happened at French Cup. So many more people involved, though nobody had been hurt. If I compared, which one was worse? But there was no comparison. Each event was too different. Then, there were the microevents. Little transgressions that added up to something so much more. What they meant, all together. 

What this all meant, all together. What had surged this, to cause all this. The real question: where was all of this coming from? Then there was what I knew and others directly involved knew, that the vast majority of people coming tonight wouldn't know: the people who'd caused the hurt at French Cup, all the fear, were two little boys. How one family, so full of hate, had caused all this. But how complicated it was. How many layers. Suddenly, in my mind I thought of the process for making croissants. All those layers one must make before the final product. How much work goes into it. How each layer builds and builds, until you have the final product.

How many layers were there to this? How much work had gone into this, by so many people, to make it literally explode? 

"Kazuya."

It was all spilling out. Like a croissant, if the butter gets too warm, it will spill out and be ruined. Everything was ruined. How could I control my emotions when I saw everyone-

"Kazuya, what's happening?"

My eyes blinked wide as I recognized Gyeong-Wan had stopped walking and so had I, following. Too in my thoughts to notice. But, his voice had brought me back. His curious, awed voice. This innocence that I knew too well, for our way of life.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Then, I saw it. In awe, myself. 

Because, before us was something I hadn't expected to see. We were suddenly on the edge of crowd as we'd rounded the corner. They were standing still as statues, their coats looking like a sea of muted colors in the dark. So muted, that they all looked like the same being. A crowd so large, that it was impossible to move in the street. And yet, no one was shoving. No one was trying to get in anyone else's way. They were just listening. My ears tuned into an unknown frequency as they recognized the familiar voice.

"Do you know what that feels like?" Nikki was saying, so loud. My eyes traveled across the crowd, and I saw him there under the theater's brightly lit marquee, instantly recognizable with a red cowgirl hat on. His face was in drag, his hair long and curly and orangey red. He spoke into his megaphone, the same one from Zombie Walk, jarring me to remember those events vividly. The fear from then, mixing with the fear from the explosion. Making me tremble, but my hand was still in Gyeong-Wan's mittened one. Trying to steady me. Nikki sighed into his megaphone as Nikki the Mouth. "To stand there, and see all of your friends in trouble? Smoke filling everything. Not knowing if everything is on fire and if you only have mere seconds to get everyone out? How are you supposed to do that? How could I have carried everyone out in seconds? That's what I was thinking. Do you know what it's like to have to try to prioritize, to be forced to wonder who you'd save first and then second and then third, until you can't save any more? I did. Why? Because of them."

He wildly gestured toward the hotel, its glowing lights ominous like eyes. The many eyed monster, menacing at the end of the street. Its lit up driveway looked like an open mouth. My heart was racing seeing it suddenly, and I couldn't look away from Nikki with my ever widening eyes.

"Who's going to pay for Kawada-san's medical expenses? How about the compensation for her having to be out of work while her wounds heal? We heard her story. She didn't touch on that, but it's all I could think about. Who is going to pay? How about the fact that she will have physical scars for life? Shouldn't someone have to pay for that? How about Yuko? Everyone knows Yuko. She is the grandmother of the neighborhood! She won't be coming back, because of them! They sent her into cardiac shock! She'd still be here, healthy and doing what she loves, if it weren't for them! It is undeniable that they are the reason for everything that has happened! They're the ones who started this and set it off! Ever since they bought the old hotel, it has been them! Who was responsible for the constant noise for years as they built it? We asked them for ages not to work on it at night and in the early morning, but did they listen?! They drove away even more people from this neighborhood due to that! And that was just the beginning! Ever since they opened, they have spilled their people into our neighborhood who we'd rather reject! Since day one of opening, they have been rude, racist, homophobic, transphobic, classist, every kind of hate filled attitude you can think of! Well, I for one have had it. I have had it! They want to take over this neighborhood that is not theirs! These temporary people feel as if they own our neighborhood! The need to know it is ours! They're trying so hard to take us over, and yet they just leave! They destroy, and then leave! I say we show them who we are. We need to go over there, right now, and show them and fight-!"

Oh, it was going wrong. How revved up he was. With every word, more and more, and yet I found I was hanging on to every one. Feeling a stirring inside. Everything he was saying was hitting just right, like piano keys hitting every string inside its body just right, everything perfectly in tune.

As Hanako tried to grab the microphone from Nikki with his mouth open, a look of panic in his fairy made-up eyes, the crowd began to stir like my heart. Their own hearts were surely turned, as well.

"You can't say that! We need a permit to go over there!" Hanako was saying, desperation in his voice. "I need to tell them that!" But that's all we heard before the crowd began speaking. Everyone speaking at once, every opinion filling the air, so fast.

"Kazuya, what's going on-" Gyeong-Wan began, but that's all I heard.

Nikki had wrestled the megaphone back. "FUCK THE PERMIT! FUCK THE HOTEL!" He shouted loudly into it. 

"FUCK THE HOTEL!" People nearby us shouted. 

"FUCK THE HOTEL!" People roared.

My feet were frozen to the spot as I realized there were people all around me, because people had joined in behind us, too. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd in front of me and found Ayane's familiar red coat. She was leaned on a cane, her arm around Hiran's for support. Next to them were Prin and Somchai, and Prin looked so small in the crowd, old and wise and determined. Just like I thought he'd be. This mix of things, too accurate and terrifying. It was all terrifying.

Screams, people shouting. Rage. Fists rose into the air. 

"FUCK THE HOTEL!" Nikki shouted back at them. "FUCK THEM! LET'S GO!" His own fist went toward the hotel as if to hit it like it had a face. With this, the people behind us started to move, and the people in front of us went away, walking as one mass.

Shit. It was happening so fast. Too fast to think. Like a match starting off a chain reaction of matches.

Somewhere in the cold swirling air, Hanako's voice demanded that we needed a permit, but nobody was listening. Absolutely nobody. 

"STONEWALL DIDN'T NEED A PERMIT!" Nikki shouted into the megaphone, walking. As I stared at him, I was moved along. Holding tightly to Gyeong-Wan's hand, as he guided me, too. 

"STONEWALL!" Someone shouted to my left. 

"STONEWALL! DOWN WITH HATE!" Someone else shouted.

"STONEWALL!"

"FUCK THE HOTEL!"

"TAKE IT DOWN!"

"BRICK BY BRICK, TAKE IT DOWN!" Nikki shouted. 

"TAKE IT DOWN!"

"TAKE IT DOWN!"

The whole crowd was chanting. Chanting, over and over. 

"FUCK THE HOTEL! TAKE IT DOWN! FUCK THE HOTEL! TAKE IT DOWN!"

The swirling emotions. Like a collective sick. The sickness of what the hotel had done. How fast it all had happened, and yet it had gone on for too long. The images of memories, swirling together. A flash of an image, of the man next to me smiling with a bunny of bread in his hand, nervously going to kiss my own bread bunny. How nervous he had to be, scared of himself. All because of a life he'd been forced to lead. This establishment he'd had to live in his whole life. This hotel now, but everything else it represented. Forcing him to be scared of living his very life. How scared he'd been, to even tell me. 

Suddenly, my hand was squeezing his. Forgetting in the rising moment, but remembering everything else that had happened. It stopped swirling and combined into one feeling:

"FUCK THE HOTEL! TAKE IT DOWN!" I shouted. "FUCK THE HOTEL!" My head wagging in my words, so in a passion. All that was in my heart, for him and everything else. 

Shouting into the abyss of night. Marching. Marching toward something I didn't know, but it was better than this place. Reaching for it. Dreaming again, but collectively. Fighting. Fighting for freedom, his and mine. For everyone's.