Five had always been the quiet one, the brooding sibling whose dark thoughts and sharp mind often kept him at a distance from the others.

If he was the moon—cold, calculating, and isolated—then you, his twin, had always been the sun. You were the light in his life, the warmth he'd never asked for but always secretly craved.

Your sibling bond with Five, forged in the most unusual of circumstances, was as bright as it was unbreakable.

It was hard to describe the way your energies complemented each other. Five was the reflection of cool, distant logic, but you were the steady warmth that grounded him, making him feel less like an outsider in his own family. You were opposites in almost every way, yet you always managed to balance each other out.

Where Five's sarcasm and cynicism could cut sharply, your optimism and playfulness softened the blows. And it had been that way since the moment you were born—together in an instant, but separated when Five disappeared.

After Five's rebirth in 2019, things had shifted. Five's mind was still racing at full speed, consumed by the complexity of timelines and the burden of the apocalypse. But you were there when he came back, at Reginald's funeral, as a steady, constant presence that Five hadn't had for so long.

Despite the chaos that surrounded the Hargreeves family, you were always there, with that sunbeam smile.

Five never really knew how to ask for help. He didn't know how to lean on others—especially not after years of being alone.

But you were different. You didn't need him to ask. You simply understood.

"Do you ever feel like you're just... lost?" Five asked after a long silence, his voice low, almost a whisper, as you both sat on the couch. "Like everything around you is moving forward, but you're stuck in place?"