I've gathered that some of you out there are rather old. I'd think if you were immortal, individual years would start to lose their meaning with time. So, what do you think constitutes a memorable birthday? Every ten years? Every one hundred? How old do you get before you stop taking notice of single years?

I'm guessing most if not all of you have felt the phenomenon where time seems to move at different rates, even though you know it's all in your mind. So tell me, does being in Luceti cause time to feel different to you than it did when you were back home?

[ Two years. It's been two years, and after experiencing as much time slip by as Joshua has, feeling those two years is a less-than-welcome change.

As a distraction, he spends the day painting a side of his building that has been blank ever since a certain someone went home. It's certainly not Hanekoma's style, but it's similar to it, the color scheme the same though the designs are more fluid, less blocky and more streamlined, with harsh points instead of rounded curves.

Maybe this is his way of making peace with it. Maybe he's finally moved on.

Maybe he's just that homesick. ]