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The first time that Babissaara comes up after Jedha has been destroyed they're at Thila Base, but it's simply too painful for Bodhi to think about. It would have been a painful holiday for him even before the Death Star; it's the first Babissaara since his mother passed, and the mere thought of trying to celebrate the first day of monsoon season without her, without the planet itself, is enough to make Bodhi physically recoil, so he just avoids it. He signs up for as many double-shifts of maintenance as he can and works himself hard through the whole week to keep himself from thinking about everything he's lost, telling himself that he's making a better future.

Baze and Chirrut come by with a few small containers of roast nerf and rice to share on the day itself, forcing Bodhi to stop and eat with them, sitting on cargo containers in the hold of his shuttle. But they doesn't say anything in particular about the festival, Jedha, or much of anything at all, other than to ask if the nerf is spicy enough and Bodhi's… okay with that. He waits until he gets to his bunk to shed a few silent tears before falling asleep.

The second year, Bodhi's a little more open to the idea of having some kind of Babissaara… not celebration, but at least to just notice its passing. But this year they're on Home One, and a spaceship isn't the most conducive environment for traditions largely focused on weather. "Last year I wanted to paint the hatch of your shuttle blue, but Baze talked me out of it. It would have washed off in two days, it was always raining on Thila," admits Chirrut when Bodhi finally gets together the courage to mention that he might want to do something this year, about a week before the date.

Baze lets out an exasperated groan, shaking his head. "He wasn't ready, and I would have been the only one who could see the blue paint that would have wanted to," he adds with a small smile, which makes Bodhi think that maybe they've had this discussion a few times over the last year.

Bodhi shifts in his seat a little bit. "You— you were probably right about me not being ready— I wasn't, but it's— it's not like any rains are going to come wash it off on this ship, and there aren't any winds for the rain chimes and it's— I don't know, I wish I'd been ready last year, because I really don't know how to do this, here," he says, not sure why his throat's getting so tight.

A few moments pass before Baze stops cleaning his blaster. "I've celebrated many Babissaaras away from home, a few of them in space. I always painted a door, and then just washed it off whenever the first rains fell on the Holy City," he says, softly. Bodhi wonders if he's having the same thoughts he is, of the violent storms that have reportedly enveloped the remains of their home. They might have rains in them, but not ones that would bring any new life, and it's unlikely any reports of those rains would ever surface.

Chirrut lets out a sigh. "I say we go with my original plan. Paint the hatch of your shuttle, and then go someplace where it's likely to rain. That would work, wouldn't it?"

Bodhi swallows roughly— it would work, but… "It's just… it's not quite the same. We'd be forcing the rains, and that's not what it's about," he says, quietly. "This is— it's just not going to work," he declares, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry— sorry to have bothered you with it," he says, about to head out of their quarters, but then Chirrut's in front of him almost faster than he can see.

"我們會找到一個辦法," says Chirrut firmly, and Bodhi's left speechless, even as he still has the impulse to run, but Chirrut's gently prodding him back to his seat. "這是你的追喜歡的節日?" he asks, once he has Bodhi sat down again.

"None of the rest of the festivals were the same after the Temple closed," Bodhi admits, blinking back tears because it's silly, really, to cry about not knowing the best way to deal with painting some stupid door blue for nonexistent rains to wash them away and bring life to a moon that will never support life again. "And even Babissaara wasn't the same after the edict about street celebrations, but it was— it was always a good day," he says lamely.

"以前, 這天很重要." Baze clicks the last piece of the blaster back into place and lays it on the table. "還是很重要. We'll figure something out," he says, reaching over to pull out a datapad. "What about Fest?"

Bodhi blinks a couple of times. "What about it?"

Baze shrugs. "Well, Cassian's from there. He brought us together, it's his homeworld. What if we wash off the door whenever it rains where he's from on Fest?" he asks, not looking up from the datapad, though he scowls at it after a few moments. "Too icy, in most parts, it looks like— though we could ask him if rains ever happened where he grew up," he suggests.

It takes a few days and asking several people about their homeworlds, which isn't exactly the happiest question for most of their friends, most of whom lack homes to even return to. And the worlds that remain are all too often either frozen or rainless deserts. But finally they decide to paint the doors to their quarters and wash off the pigment on the day it rains on the old Erso farm on Lahmu. In the course of asking their often highly suspicious friends about their homeworlds, Bodhi winds up explaining why he's asking, and he's a little surprised on Babisaara to see almost a half dozen other doors on the ship painted blue: Jyn and Cassian's, Luke's, Leia's, and Kasan's. For a moment Bodhi's almost annoyed— this isn't their tradition— until he remembers that Leia and Kasan are survivors of Alderaan, and then he's pushing back tears again, and very glad that Baze somehow manages to get the ship's canteen to make his spiced nerf recipe for the whole ship that night.

(He's even more amused when most of the non-Jedhans— aside from Cassian— start coughing from the spice on the nerf— which isn't even that spicy. At the end of the meal, Baze brings out a large, half-empty bottle of matar, the remarkably uncordial after dinner liquor Bodhi's mother and much of Jedha had always favored, and pours everyone who wants one a glass. Bodhi wonders if this is the last cup of it he'll ever choke down, but he doesn't resent sharing it with his friends.)

Babissaara on Hoth is… too fucking cold, but it's still an important day, and at least something to look forward to while freezing his ass off. "What are you working on?" Luke asks Bodhi as he finds him hunched over a table by the space heater in their quarters with a knife, twine, and some bones, saved from dinners over the course of the past year, that Bodhi and Baze have hollowed out and carved with the appropriate runes and designs, and Bodhi's now trying to thread together.

"They're— they will be rain chimes, I didn't— didn't plan far enough ahead to put together a set last year," explains Bodhi, groaning as he fails, again, to thread the twine through the hole because he can't stop shivering. "My mother was a weaver and a seamstress and our heating unit would go out all the damned time and sometimes it would take me days to scavenge a replacement part, but that never stopped her from being able to thread a needle," he grumbles in frustration as he picks everything back up to try again— and then he feels Luke, warm and solid, sitting behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, and Bodhi's able to relax just a little bit and finally manages to thread this piece. "Thank you," he murmurs as he starts tying the knot.

Luke chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of Bodhi's neck and his lips are so wonderfully warm that it's a little difficult to not be distracted by them. "I know Jedha was a pretty chilly place, but I doubt it was this cold there, and also you're not a seamstress, unless you've been holding out on me, so I think you're doing fine," he says, pressing another few kisses to the back of Bodhi's neck.

"Stop it, it's definitely too cold for that, and I really want to finish these before tomorrow," Bodhi whines, and Luke relents, though he doesn't move far.

"That's fair," says Luke, his arms squeezing Bodhi again, seemingly content to watch Bodhi work. After Bodhi's managed to put together a few more pieces he says, "You know, that's the most I've ever heard you say about your mother. Did she teach you how to do this?"

Bodhi swallows roughly and nods. "She— yes, she did— how to tie them all together at least. The ones I made with her, I actually made from salvaged speeder parts and painted the runes on. I was twelve," he allows, though he can remember it like it was yesterday. "Baze is the one who's been teaching me how to carve the bones," he says.

He can feel Luke's lips turn up against the skin of his neck. "Baze is a very good man with a knife, I can't say that's a skill I'm surprised that he has," he says. "So these are for Babissaara, right?" He's almost got the pronunciation right.

Bodhi nods as he lifts up the assembly, checking to make sure that they're all at the right levels and should be able to knock together without tangling too easily. "For Babissaara, yes," he says, gently correcting Luke's pronunciation. "The sound of rain chimes in the winds is supposed to both entice and also announce the coming of the storms," he explains, and he shakes them to show Luke what they sound like. "I suppose I should be grateful that we have winds at all to sound them this year, unlike last year, but I am not really looking forward to going outside to hang them," he admits with a soft chuckle.

"Why not just hang them in here?" asks Luke and Bodhi lets out a sigh, because as much as he appreciates Luke's interest in these kinds of things, he misses not having to explain them to almost everyone. He glances over at the chrono because Baze and Chirrut are due to be back tomorrow in time for Babissaara itself, and at this very moment he misses them terribly, even if Baze doesn't actually manage to find another jug of matar like he'd been hinting they might do on the way home.

"Because— well, it's— it's a weather festival. On a year when I actually have weather, shouldn't I at least let myself have that part of it?" he asks, hoping that he doesn't sound too whiny, but also hoping that Luke understands, even a little, and at the very least Luke seems to understand that he's touched a nerve because he gives Bodhi another gentle squeeze.

"Okay— it sounds like it's important to you so— I'll help you with them tomorrow, I promise, though I'm pretty sure they've closed the blast doors already, so it will have to wait," he tells Bodhi, and that's… that will have to do. Luke continues to watch and keep Bodhi warm as he finishes tying the rain chimes together, and that's really all that Bodhi can ask for. "They're gorgeous— is it really so bad, to hang them up here for the night?" asks Luke as Bodhi gets up and hangs them from the ceiling by their bed.

"No— it's not too bad. I just— just really want to hear them chiming in the wind, even if I am freezing my ass off while I'm doing it, it's— it's been too long," says Bodhi as he and Luke get ready for bed. "The night before Babissaara, after everyone had theirs up, I used to listen to a whole city's worth of chimes. It was— I miss it," he admits, curling a little closer to Luke.

Luke takes a moment and wraps his arms around Bodhi. "That sounds amazing. But, for now, I hope this will work," he says, gesturing with his free hand and in a moment or so, the chimes begin to sway back and forth, chiming with the will of the Force.

Bodhi's throat goes a little tight again, but he presses a kiss to the side of Luke's face. "Thank you," he whispers. "That definitely works for me."