I wake before the sun rises in the sky and rush out onto the balcony of Emmie's apartment to watch as the day rises along with me. The sky drenches itself in a warm hue, casting down on me with rays of lemon that tickle my skin.

For those lonely minutes where it feels like I'm the only one awake in the world, I think about everything that's led me to this moment. From jumping off the boat into the vast, blue waves when I was a child and encouraging my brother to join me; learning hula for the first time at the pavilion by my old townhouse, and seeing the flowing, wavy hair of the old women showing me how to move my hips and raise my hands; finally seeing a little girl like me in a movie and feeling like I was real for once, that the world would know people like me.

There's a brief moment where I remember the first time a haole boy told me I would never be loved because my hair was too frizzy and my nose too wide. That I would be stuck here on this island and forgotten like everyone else, only to be used as a way to make other people happy as all places like Hawai'i are seen—never as a place with real people experiencing real life and real pain.

The sun crests above the tops of the trees and spreads its light across the land, and I'm reminded once again of the beauty of this place I call home. Though there may be those who seek to take it away from us, our home is intrinsically part of who we are, and that's something that can never be stolen.

Emmie joins me on the balcony wrapped in a white fluffy robe, her hair stretched up into a small bun on the top of her head. While her hair has grown since we first reunited at Calum's party which now seems like an entire lifetime ago, little pieces that are still too short have fallen back down.

Staring at her now, basking under the morning light like a sunflower, I think about our pure friendship. Even though we've had many disagreements over the years, and even more people questioning how we stay as close as we've been for as long as we have, she brings a sense of comfort that comes from no other.

"Today's the big day," she says.

I clasp my mug of coffee so tightly in my hand that it nearly burns. "Kind of feels unreal. I've never done anything like this before."

"First time for everything." She casts a glance out, admiring the same view I've been hypnotized with for the past half hour. "The only thing that could make today better was if Jem was here."

I almost called her last night because I wanted to let her know what we were doing, but I couldn't be sure she'd pick up the call so her name went dark on my screen.

"There wasn't a day that went by while I was in Seattle that I didn't think about this place," she remarks thoughtfully. "You know how exciting it is when you run into someone that's from here? You don't even know them or anything about their life and you already feel like they understand a part of you no one else can."

I'm a very small piece of a puzzle, I'm aware. A mere thread in the tapestry of a history so complex and vibrant that I still don't know all the facets of it. But I use every bit of strength I have left in me to prove that a voice matters, people matter, and my home means something.

...

The Hawai'i State Capitol sits like a box on the outside, but, upon entrance, feels like a weird sort of arena. The center is wide open with pillars surrounding it, a myriad of windows feel like eyes watching. During the few times I've walked through it, I always felt like an insignificant person. As if the other ordinary people working there are more important than me, more of value.

As we walk up to the building, I stretch my shoulders wide and hold my head up high. I have nothing to be intimidated about. My voice carries as much weight in this world as any of those who will no doubt look down at us soon with careful, judgmental eyes; a disturbance to their peace.

Emmie and I struggle to juggle the boards in our hands. Once we arrive, we meet up with some of the other organizers I met online. Most of them greet us with warm and friendly hugs. The few kūpuna sitting on a blanket wave from their seat.

"Hope you had a good breakfast, sis," Kawika, one of the organizers I speak to the most, says with a radiant smile on his face and a chest so wide I can barely get my arms around him. "We gon' be out here for a good time."

"This is my best friend Emmie." I snake my arm around. "If you need anyone to yell at someone, she's got a loud mouth."

She laughs and smacks me. "You bitch."

Kawika gives us his thunderous roar that sends his belly jiggling. "We love our wahine loud and proud."

"Oh, I'm not kānaka." She waves off bashfully, tucking her caramel-colored strands behind her ear. "Just here to show my support."

He throws his arm around her shoulder and gives her a gentle jostle. "You're a friend of the people. Don't diminish your worth."

Her spirit comes alive and her eyes glimmer back at me. Emmie spent a lot of time looking at me during conversations we've had about today, but I always remind her that even though the mixing pot of cultures Hawai'i has become is a result of colonization, there is a lot of good we can take from it. We fight for our rights against the discrepancies that exist even in our multicultural state, and we respect those who respect us. When one group of people fight alongside another, a community is born, and I'm thankful she's here with me, not just as a friend but as someone who appreciates these islands for what they are.

As much pride as she says she has in me, it's mirrored back to her.

While more people slowly arrive at the Capitol, Kawika leads a lot of the conversation, going over where most of us will stand and certain areas to avoid. He has plans for people to slowly make their way into the actual Capitol once the crowd grows enough, but he assumes things won't pick up enough for a couple of hours.

Heather is the first of our friends to show up. For the first time in a long time, there is no underlying vitriol in the way we greet each other. Her presence today is appreciated.

Katerina arrives moments later with Anthony and Kaioh trailing behind. She looks like she needs about five more cups of coffee before she's fully functioning, but my brother and his boyfriend are much more chipper.

Even Landon shows up which fills me with an insurmountable amount of joy that I jump into his arms, nearly sending him flying back onto the ground. He catches me before we tumble over.

"Surprise," he says once he has me at a safe distance.

"I can't believe you're here!"

He looks down at me with a crooked smile. "You had to know I would show up, right? I'm taking credit for putting you onto this mess."

If he hadn't mentioned the telescope that night at the bar, I'm not sure I would've arrived at this point, so I grant him full permission in taking credit for igniting the spark that would grow into a bonfire.

"My dad had to take care of something for work but he'll be here later," I tell Landon as I pull him deeper into the crowd. "I think you two will get along."

"I'll look for the old man that can't stop staring at you with pride."

He whisks himself off, shaking hands with people he must know. Or new friends, who can tell. Landon seems much more in his element out here than holed up in the bar.

Our final two friends eventually arrive and with them comes that fluttering in my chest like a cageful of butterflies have been released.

Calum makes his rounds excitedly like a puppy being passed around, complete with a slobbering kiss he plants on my cheek before he tells me how happy he is to be here.

As happy as I am to see him, my eyes wander over to the other figure arriving with him.

He moves slower, more calmly like a hibiscus floating along the waves. Each friend he greets receives a one-armed hug, including Emmie who whispers something private in his ear. It isn't until he's standing in front of me that I feel like all the air has left this invisible room we're in to which only the two of us have a key.

"Thanks for coming," I offer instead of a hug.

He tucks his hands into his pockets, and rocks back gently on his heels. "Wouldn't miss it."

I gesture down where a few of our extra signs rest. "We went a little wild on them so feel free to take one."

He leans down to grab one, twisting it around in his hands and admiring the artwork we managed to pull together. "Yeah, I kind of noticed you had a lot when I was over."

"You know me," I shrug, "always going above and beyond for my group projects."

"That's a lie. You hate group projects."

"You're right," I laugh. "But a girl can try."

"When your heart is in it," he looks down at me before glancing out at the crowd, "you'll do whatever it takes."

...

Kawika proves to be a man of great magnitude—not just from sheer size but from the way he commands attention. Once he projects his voice and explains why we are all here, people listen. The part of the crowd closest to him clings to every word like it's pure gospel.

He speaks of the gods that created the islands, starting with Hawai'i Island. As the piko of Hawai'i Island, some describe Mauna Kea as the center of all of Hawai'i. Its sacred power, held deep in the oral history of our people, carries a faith and understanding of what it means to belong to these lands. The significance of the mountain spreads across waters to further reaches of Polynesia.

He speaks of shrines built for those gods still standing amongst the other telescopes already erected on our sacred land; the burial sites of our ancestors who rest on the mountain, and the newer practice that brings people to scatter the ashes of their loved ones; the summit watched over carefully by spirits, guarding the mana of our islands under their watchful eye.

Kawika tells his people about the way land is so carelessly and violently taken away from indigenous people all over the world. Where a people's land is handed back like a consolation prize after being stolen from their ancestors, only to be propped up by insidious strings, controlled by the hands of tricksters who do nothing but give false promises.

"That's all these people do," he yells out at the crowd. "They take, and they take, and they take without any concern for those they leave in their ruin. They think they are the ones who should get to decide who controls these lands that never belonged to them in the first place."

"They tell us it's all in the name of science. But what is the science in desecrating our aina, huh? Which one of them is gonna explain to the spirits that they think their telescope is worth more than their remains? They think they can just force their westernized motives on us but we say no!"

The crowd cheers back at him like an echo chamber and chills run down my body.

"These haoles will never understand the pain of our people who've lost more than they will ever know. To see their queen imprisoned in her own home while they illegally overthrow our sovereign nation. Our people have been propped up as colorful little bobbleheads for their entertainment. They tell us we would never survive without tourism as if they didn't force that upon us! And now they tell us that we hold the key to science as if our ancestors died for it. We're tired! Tired of being told who to bow down to. Tired of being told to fight them in a judicial system that was never built to understand the indigenous. Be it a pipeline or a telescope, they will always find a way to take what is not theirs."

Kawika continues for a little while longer until the chanting begins. The signs rise once more. A piece of the crowd begins their descent upon the Capitol where they demonstrate further. Cops scatter, trying to maintain order even though the fiercest unrest lies in the hearts of those peacefully protesting an act that does not deserve such peace.

When I turn around to look at the others in our small group of people, I notice a couple of us are missing. My eyes search the crowded sidewalk before locking onto them standing in front of a group of guys who encircle them in a predatory stance.

Zachariah's hand wraps around my wrist as I push my way through to them, falling slowly back to his side when I continue onward in determination.

Emmie is doing her best to hold Heather back as she lets out a tirade of profanities directed at the men. Even though I arrive late and have no idea what led to this exchange, I can tell by the sick smirks on their face that Heather was provoked and charged back honorably, albeit with impressively colorful language.

Katerina shoots up behind me just as I clutch Heather's other arm, forming a line.

"Great," one of them scoffs and smacks the other on the arm. "They got their brown friends to back them up."

Katerina and I look at each other, and then back at them.

"Excuse you?"

My understanding of these men requires no enlightenment. Their type always shows up at these demonstrations, prodding the sensitive points until they make contact with the vulnerable. They seek provocation and thrive under chaos because it's the only way they'll feel like they can be a part of something that matters.

"You always gotta find someone to blame, don't you," another one of the hyenas laughs as if he's just overflowing with cleverness and wit. "Y'all just be grateful that America saved your asses? 'Cause if it wasn't us then it would've been Japan, or Italy, or Germany, or any other place a hundred times worse than us. Do you think with your vantage point that Hawai'i wasn't going to eventually get picked up by someone? Come on. You needed us."

"Sounds like yall," Katerina gags, "needed us."

"And don't say us as if your flimsy noodle arms are capable of overthrowing a baseball, let alone a whole kingdom, dipshit," Emmie adds.

"How does it feel to be their resident white girl?"

It's Heather's time to hold Emmie back, though it's written all over her face she would rather not. I'm sure we would feel pride in letting any one of us rip into them, but that would only cause problems so we hold back.

"Look, guys," I start to say, stepping forward. "I'll be honest—we don't care what any of you think about what's happening here because it's not for you. You'll never understand and we don't have the patience to explain it any more than we already have. So why don't we just leave things as they are and call it a day, okay? Find somewhere else to cause trouble."

I huddle everyone together and nudge them back toward where the rest of the group waits, watching. Zachariah and Calum look poised for action, while Anthony already made it halfway before he stopped and waited.

We're a few feet away when one of them calls out to us, to me.

"You know what I hate most about people like you?"

I turn around slowly, already feeling my blood boiling.

The tallest one steps forward. Everything about him reeks of disrespect. Every inch of him is proud of the way he's not from here, even though he's doing his best to act like this place and these people are here for him to judge.

"Just listen to the way you speak." He gestures at me with disgust. "And the way you dress. How Hawaiian are you really? Can you even tell me something in Hawaiian?" He steps forward, daring me to step back, challenging me with his blunt words. "One word. Just one word that isn't aloha or ohana."

I sneer back at him, standing my ground even though all I want to do is get the hell away. "I'm not some fucking puppy you get to command."

"But aren't you?" He steps even closer, close enough I can reach out and touch him. "You blindly follow people because they look like you, and you judge those who don't. Bet you didn't even know half the bullshit that guy was shouting earlier."

"I have nothing to prove to you." I ball my fists up before releasing.

He's not worth it, I remind myself.

Before I do something I regret, I walk back to the girls waiting for me. Emmie grabs my hand firm in hers as soon as I'm next to her.

"This always happens. They puff up their chests and act like they're ready to throw down, but when they're asked to prove themselves they have nothing to say. No wonder all of their shit gets wrecked."

Anthony makes his move to come over and stop me before I can do anything, but I march back to the man before he can make it.

Reaching up—nearly retching because touching him is the last thing I want to do—I grab ahold of the stranger's collar and tug him down to me. His hoard of friends go on high alert, but none of them make any move to stop me. The man in my grip can barely believe what's happening.

"If you're so ashamed of your ancestors' past, then just say it instead of attacking people who have done nothing to you," I snarl, watching my knuckles turn white. "None of these people have anything to prove to you. We have endured far worse than the weak, ill-intentioned remarks you toss around as if you have any understanding of the land on which you stand. You have some real fucking nerve coming here and disrespecting my home."

His Adam's apple bobs up and down.

"You think you own us, but you never have and you never will. The will of our people will withstand whatever you throw at us. I don't care what your small-minded brain is incapable of understanding because that is not my problem, but listen when I tell you this—"

Footsteps stop behind me, but I don't turn around. I stare straight into this man's eyes and tell him the words so long overdue that I should've told myself.

"Ikaika mākou, aloha mākou, a lanakila mākou. I'm Hawaiian whether you acknowledge it or not, whether you give it the respect it deserves or not. The spirit of Hawai'i runs through my veins, and I will defend her against people like you until my dying breath."

And then I reach up and punch him in the face.

A gentle roar washes over the crowd and I'm pulled away as the blood flows through his fingers clutching his nose. Before any of the cops come over and find me, or before any of the men point their finger in my direction, Anthony and Zachariah shield me from prying eyes.

The other girls rile up the crowd, distracting anyone from what just happened, even though the bastard is now kneeling on the ground.

Violence might not be the answer, but I can't lie and say that didn't feel good.

I don't realize my hand is shaking until Zachariah holds it in his, effectively stopping me from jumping right out of my skin.

Anthony is busy waving Kaioh over so we can all walk back to his car, so he's not paying attention to the two of us except to make sure we haven't been handcuffed.

My fingers are red and raw and I'm sure by tomorrow morning they'll be colored over with bruises. But as my fingers intertwine with his, the shaking stops. Like an anchor keeping me in place, I find my center and remember how much home isn't just a house, or even an island. Sometimes home is a person, and no matter how far away we've traveled from each other, one touch reminds me where I've always belonged.