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There were a lot of things Kanan had to do differently since he lost his sight. At first, he’d been helpless, needing someone to guide him everywhere he went. But as he grew used to life without his eyes, the force began to fill in for his lack of sight. He could sense things around him just as clearly as the others saw them, and he could even “see” further and deeper than he ever had before. But still, he missed the simple things that the force couldn’t capture: the lines on Hera’s face, the glow of a lightsaber, the way it felt to make eye contact with someone you cared about, Sabine’s art, and even just colors.
When Kanan needed to get away, he would take a shower. You didn’t need to see in the shower, in fact, even before his injury he’d kept his eyes shut to keep the soap out. Showers were a few peaceful minutes of normal.
It was a tacit agreement between the members of the Ghost crew that the first refresher belonged to the girls, and the second to the boys. It had been that way since the crew was just Hera and Kanan, all those years ago. But a few days ago, Zeb and Ezra had broken their shower. How they had managed it was a mystery Kanan didn’t care to solve. They would have to wait until they got back to base to fix it, so for now the boys were stuck intruding on the girls’ refresher.
Hera and Sabine were not at all pleased with the new arrangement, and made Zeb and Ezra take sponge baths in their own refresher. Kanan, since he had not been involved with the damage done to the boys’ refresher, was graciously allowed to shower in the girls’ refresher.
It had been a while since Kanan had used the first shower, but as he stepped in, he remembered why he had always liked this one better. He ran his hand along the side of the shower, feeling for the colorful stains that made the shower look like a rainbow had blown up inside. More than once, Hera had scolded Sabine for staining the shower with her hair dye, but Kanan knew she secretly didn’t mind. Hera loved being reminded of her family, even through their messes. Kanan now wished more than anything that he could see the beautiful mess again. He tried in vain to find a difference in texture on the smooth walls.
When Kanan lost his sight, he had quickly been able to connect to Ezra more fully through the force, making up for any way of reaching him he’d lost before. Their bond as master and padawan was stronger than ever. Similarly, his bond with Hera had grown too. She wasn’t force-sensitive, but she knew him so deeply that she too could feel the ebb and flow of emotion and love between them. And even with Zeb, Kanan had rebuilt their relationship on the strength and respect that comes from loss. But with Sabine…
Sabine’s identity was so closely tied to her art that Kanan felt he was missing a part of her. He could still feel the emotions that inspired her, but he couldn’t see what she made of them. He missed the feeling of pride he used to get when she showed him her work. He was still proud of her, but he wished to goodness that he could have that moment of trust with her again that came with sharing her art.
<><><>
That night, Hera came to Kanan’s room to talk, as she had every night since his blindness.
“What’s wrong, love?”
Now that he thought about it, maybe Hera was force-sensitive. How could anyone love him so much as to read him so well? Well, if anyone could, it was Hera, Kanan decided.
“The usual,” Kanan sighed. “Missing seeing your face, missing seeing everyone’s faces.”
“And?” Hera prompted.
“And Sabine,” Kanan admitted. “I feel like I can’t be there for her in the way I used to be. I hate that.”
“You mean with her art?”
“Yes.”
“I think she misses you too,” Hera said, taking his hand.
<><><>
The next day, Sabine plopped down next to him at the table. She pushed something into his hands.
“I want you to have this, Kanan,” she said. “Since you inspired it.”
Kanan ran his fingers over the tablet she’d given him. He couldn’t place its material; there seemed to be more than one making it up. But as he took it in, he realized that the mixed textures of paint, fabric, and bits of metal made an image. He covered the picture with his palm.
“Jaig eyes?”
“Yes! Like the ones Rex drew on your mask. It’s a Mandalorian sign of honor. I also added loyalty runes, too,” she said, drawing his hand over the engraved symbols near the bottom of the tablet.
“ Haat… Ijaa… Haa'it,” Kanan said slowly. “Truth, Honor, Vision.”
He squeezed Sabine’s hand gently. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s beautiful, Sabine.”
Sabine returned the pressure. “It was my pleasure.”
<><><>
From then on, Kanan’s room was slowly filled with Sabine’s artwork. There were sculptures, engravings, and even embossed sheets of words in both Mando’a and Basic so Kanan could read with his hands. Kanan had never been prouder of her.
