#ro fic

Claudine laughed, reeling in her fishing line. “I still can’t believe you burn faster than me. Didn’t you put on like seven layers of sunscreen?”

“Yes.” Junna pouted, arms crossed. She had stolen Nana’s sunhat, too, the wide brim casting a shadow over her red face. “What I can’t believe is that you actually know how to fish. Where did you learn that?”

“Oh, you know,” Claudine answered, throwing her line back into the lake.

“No, I really don’t.” Junna followed suit, her hook landing with a quiet splash. They were sitting on a big raft in the middle of a lake, legs dangling in the water. It was warm. The sun was shining, and only the barest breeze ruffled through the trees lining the shore. Somehow they had all agreed to a day of fishing, despite only three of them having any sort of experience. Futaba and Mahiru seemed confident in their skills, though Junna was starting to doubt Claudine’s claims. The rest of them were making it up as they went. Those of them that were actually trying, that was. Kaoruko was lying in the middle of the raft, parasol propped up to shade her face. Futaba and Nana were sitting nearby, discussing the best types of fish to eat, their poles sitting idly in their hands. Mahiru was on the other side of the raft, coaching an energetic Karen and a strangely awkward Maya. Junna had a feeling that Maya had never been this far from a city before in her life. She was going through a rough adjustment period.

Junna pulled in her line and grimaced at the clump of pondweed stuck to it. “Are there even any fish in this lake?”

“Does it really matter? You don’t go fishing for the fish. Come on, Jun, get with the program.”

“Then why are we actually here?”

“Cause we’re a bunch of gay losers with no better ideas?”

“....Fair enough.”

“Ah! I got one!” Karen shouted, jumping to her feet. She was holding her fishing rod like a baseball bat, trying to pull the fish out of the water. Mahiru hurried over to help, reeling in the line. The group watched with only mild interest. This was the fifth time Karen had called that out this hour, and each time it had been a disappointment. It was looking like there was finally a chance for success, though. Karen and Mahiru were fighting for their fish, pulling with all their might.

“We’re almost there!” Karen shouted.

Bubbles rose to the surface of the water, a dark shadow beneath them. The group leaned forward, holding their breath. Was it true? Did Karen do it?

“Alllllllllmooooooossssssttt!” Karen and Mahiru made one last, big push of effort. Something broke through the surface-- everyone gasped--

“Wait- Hikari-chan????”

Hikari looked up at Karen and Mahiru’s shocked faces, the hook stuck in her hair pin.

“I found this,” she said, handing Mahiru a purplish piece of seaweed. “It reminded me of you.”

With that she sank back underwater, swimming away. Everyone stared after her, open mouthed.

“I hate these group trips,” Junna finally said.

“What… do I do with this?” Mahiru asked, looking around at everyone, seaweed in her hand.

“Eat it, probably,” Kaoruko said, choking on her laughter. “What a catch, Karen-han!”

“You might just win biggest fish of the day!” Futaba called. They were keeping track, of course. They were too competitive a group not to. Junna had her notebook tucked inside her oversized shirt - another stolen item from Nana, who was delighted by the sight - and was ready to mark down the winners. Assuming any of them managed to catch a fish in the first place.

“I’m going to go look for frogs,” Nana declared a few minutes later. She slipped into the water, swam underneath the raft, then reappeared by Junna’s feet. “Wanna come with, Junna-chan?”

Nana’s usual banana hairstyle had fallen apart after their initial swim to the raft. She had retied it into a short ponytail, and combined with her eager smile, she was too adorable to dismiss. Junna sighed.

“I suppose.”

“Yay, Junna-chan!”

“You’re so whipped,” Claudine said.

“Shut up.”

Junna joined Nana in the water, careful not to splash her glasses as they swam over to shore.

“How interesting,” Kaoruko said, watching the pair go. “The parents have abandoned their children. Whatever are we supposed to do now?”

“Probably something that’s not whatever you’re thinking,” Claudine said.

“How boring. I’m sure Tendo-han would be interested in my idea.”

“What?” Maya looked up from the tangled mess of a fishing line she’d managed to create. Futaba winced at the sight of the giant knots.

“Tendo, how did you even do that?”

“I’m… not sure.” Maya frowned at the disaster sitting in her lap.

“You’re just useless when you’re not on stage, aren’t you,” Claudine said, rolling her eyes. Art and fishing, Tendo Maya’s apparent weaknesses.

“What if we make this a stage?” Kaoruko asked sweetly. Instantly everyone turned to her, a gleam in their eyes.

“Go on,” Claudine said.

“Wellllll, I was simply thinking that’s it been soooo long since we did any improv work…”

“Let’s pretend we’re on a boat!” Karen shouted, bouncing up and down, the raft rocking under her feet. “I’ll be captain!”

“Woah, why are you captain?” Futaba countered. “You’d strand us in the middle of the ocean!”

“We are in the middle of a lake…” Maya commented, looking thoughtful. She set her rod aside and got to her feet.

“I’m calling for mutiny,” Claudine decided, standing up as well. The rest of the group followed.

“W-wait!” Mahiru said, wrapping an arm around Karen. “Let’s not be hasty! I’m sure Karen-chan can get us out of here.”

“Thank you, First Mate Mahiru!” Karen said. She placed her hands on her hips, striking a confident pose. “I will get us out of here, absolutely!”

“You better!” Futaba placed her hands on Kaoruko’s shoulders, who instantly adopted a worried look. “My fiancee and I were supposed to get married on this ship! Not get lost at sea!”

“Yes!” Kaoruko chimed in with her perfect offended princess voice. “How dare you! I’m lodging a complaint!”

Claudine laughed. “You’re lodging a complaint? To who? The shark?”

“Shark!?” the group cried out. Hikari circled the raft, hands pointed above her head to mimic a shark fin. Karen sang the Jaws theme song under her breath for dramatic effect.

“Everyone, behind me!” Maya called, throwing an arm out. All her city girl awkwardness had disappeared under the shine of the stage. Her voice echoed with power.

“What if we sacrifice her?” Claudine whispered to Karen as she huddled with the rest of the group.

“I’m on it!” Karen rushed forward and flung herself at Maya.

“Ah!” The pair hit the deck, wrestling for control. “Captain Aijo! I demand-- be sensible!”

One moment Karen was on top, straddling Maya’s waist, the next Maya had flipped them over, trying to catch Karen’s wildly swinging arms. Claudine was laughing so hard she was crying.

“C-Captain Karen!” Mahiru called out. “Watch out--”

Karen and Maya rolled right off the edge of the raft and into the water. Immediately Hikari dove after them, teeth bared in a feral grin.

“Well,” Futaba gasped through her laughter, “I think that makes Mahiru the next captain?”

“Ummm. That’s okay. I’ll pass.”

“I’ll be captain!” Kaoruko announced, graciously stepping forward. “As the most beautiful person on this ship, the duty clearly falls to me.”

“Hold up,” Claudine said, eyes narrowed in challenge. “Most beautiful? Says who?”

“Says the fact that I’m the one getting married, of course!”

“Yeah? You’re just a fiancee right now, Hanayagi. I am a wife!”

The three girls still alive on the raft gasped dramatically, hands to their chest. Claudine smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Never expected that, huh?”

“Objection!” Futaba said, pointing a finger at Claudine. “I’m engaged to Kaoruko, so you can’t be married to us. Mahiru was shocked by your announcement, so you can’t be married to her either. That leaves only Captain Aijo and Tendo, who have both been tragically killed.”

The group paused for a minute of silence, the memory of their comrades’ deaths still fresh in their minds.

“You’re forgetting someone,” Claudine said after the moment passed.

“Who?”

“I,” Claudine stated in her haughtiest voice, “am married to the shark.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed the words.

“EHHHH????????”

Hikari surfaced, leaning on the edge of the raft and flashing Claudine a grin.

“Good work, my beloved,” Claudine said, returning the smile. “Soon this entire ocean will be ours.”

Hikari winked and disappeared again.

“Isn’t my wife hot?” Claudine asked the rest of the crew. They mumbled their agreement, casting fearful looks between them.

“But, but…” Karen whispered, treading water a few feet away. “Hikari-chan is…”

“Hush. We’re dead, remember?” Maya pushed Karen’s head under the water.

“Now!” Claudine said, taking control of the ship. “I am your new captain, and I expect order! I want all three of you cleaning the decks. I want them spotless, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am!” The three girls saluted and went to work, getting on their hands and knees and pretending to scrub the raft. Claudine oversaw them, commenting on Futaba’s and Mahiru’s work, while purposely ignoring the way Kaoruko scooted over to the edge.

“Hey, hot shark girl,” Kaoruko whispered, looking behind her to make sure Claudine wasn’t watching. Hikari raised her head out of the water.

“Yes?”

“You like your wife, right?”

“Of course.”

“You want to make her happy, right?”

“Ideally.”

Kaoruko grinned. “Good. Because I bet Claudine would be really, super happy if you decided to eat her. If you know what I mean.”

“Hmm.” Hikari dropped below the water again, keeping eye contact with Kaoruko the entire time,  until she was deep enough to swim beneath the raft. Then she was gone.

“Hanayagi!” Claudine called. “That doesn’t look like work to me!”

“I’m very sorry,” Kaoruko said, lacing her voice with false sincerity. “It’s simply that I finished already.”

“Finished? That fast?”

“Oh, yes. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come inspect it?”

Claudine thought about it for a moment. Futaba and Mahiru were watching out of the corner of their eyes, waiting to see what would happen. “Fine. I think I will.”

Claudine marched over to the edge of the raft, peering down at the wood. “Hmm. Looking at this, I don’t think you spent a single second working at all-- Ahh!!”

Hikari burst out of the water and wrapped her arms around Claudine’s legs, pulling her in. They disappeared in a cloud of bubbles. The trio left alive watched as Claudine’s bright hair faded away into the murky depths.

“Another one bites the dust,” Mahiru murmured.

“I’ve had enough of this shark!” Futaba declared. “It’s eaten three of our friends! It must be stopped!”

“Babe, no!” Kaoruko cried out as Futaba dove into the water after Hikari. More bubbles rose to the surface as they wrestled under the water. Kaoruko and Mahiru caught only flashes of movement.

The fight must have ended in a draw, for neither returned to the raft. Instead they joined Karen, Maya, and Claudine, treading water in the designated Dead Person Zone.

And then there were two.

“Well, I’m still planning to get married on this trip,” Kaoruko said, turning to Mahiru.

Mahiru took a step backwards. “Ummm. Well, we don’t have anyone to officiate anymore, so…”

“I think that’s fine,” Kaoruko said, taking a step closer to Mahiru. “If there’s no one to officiate, then there’s also no one to complain.”

Mahiru’s heels were at the edge of the raft. One more step and she’d tumble into the water. She had to do something - but what?

“I…. I have a confession to make!” she shouted. Kaoruko paused, eyebrows raised.

“Oh?”

“Yes!” Mahiru nodded seriously. “I will only marry someone who can beat me in a wrestling match!”

Kaoruko paled, fear flashing across her face. “Wait-”

Back on shore, Junna looked up from her frog hunting just in time to see Mahiru tackle Kaoruko across the raft, the two of them tumbling into the water, Kaoruko’s shriek piercing the air. Then all was still, almost picturesque, an empty raft floating quietly in a lake. Junna decided she didn’t want to know what had gone down in her absence.

“Nana, I’m never saying no to frog hunting again.”

“Great!” Nana beamed at her, holding out her newest catch, a small speckled toad. “What should we name this one?”

Junna frowned. “Isn’t that Shakespeare again?”

“No, no! Shakespeare was smaller.”

“I see,” Junna said, not seeing at all. How Nana managed to keep track of the dozen frogs she’d found so far, Junna didn’t know. “How about…. Anne Hathaway?”

“Isn’t that some American actress?”

“Yes. But it’s also the name of Shakespeare’s wife.”

“Oh! That’s great, Junna-chan! Let me find Shakespeare again, I have to introduce them!” Nana bounded off through the reeds, Anne Hathaway carefully cradled in her hands. Junna watched her go with a fond, if exasperated, smile.

“Alright,” she muttered to herself, standing up and looking across the water. “Time to make sure the rest of these idiots haven’t drowned themselves.”

Said idiots were all treading water in the middle of the lake, pondweed tangled in their hair and algae freckling their skin with green.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me like that!” Claudine complained, glaring at Hikari. “We were supposed to be powerful together!”

“Kaoruko told me to eat you.”

“And you listened!?”

Hikari shrugged.

“Speaking of listening to bad suggestions,” Maya said, frowning at Karen.

“You don’t say no to sacrifice!” Karen declared.

“Exactly!” Futaba agreed. “Especially when that sacrifice is heroic.”

“My hero,” Kaoruko said, swimming over to Futaba and clinging to her arm.

Mahiru sighed. “I’m going back to the raft.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Claudine said, nodding her head in that direction. The group turned to look, then immediately turned right back around.

“Maybe if we pretend we didn’t see her,” Karen whispered, “she won’t notice us.”

“No way, she has her glasses on this time, we’re done for,” Futaba moaned.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, Futaba-han,” Kaoruko said, cowering behind her, “You’re not the one she gets mad at!”

Claudine hummed in thought. “You know, Karen, I’m thinking we should go the sacrifice route again.”

Maya nodded. “This time I agree.”

“Aye-aye, captain!”

“Wait! No!” Kaoruko cried out as Karen grabbed hold of her and began dragging her to the raft, where an expectant Junna was waiting with her hands on her hips.

“Ah, Karen-chan, maybe you shouldn’t…” Mahiru trailed off, wincing.

“No, this is good,” Hikari said. “We can sacrifice both of them now.”

“Karen! Hanayagi!” Junna said, her voice loud enough to carry to the rest of the group. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“It was Kaoruko-chan’s idea--”

“Karen-han tackled Tendo-han--”

“Stop, stop.” Junna rubbed the sides of her head, already feeling a headache form. “One at a time. And the rest of you, come over here too.”

“Yes, Dad,” Claudine muttered as they paddled over to the raft.

“I heard that.”

Claudine made a face, sticking her tongue out. Maya giggled. When the entire group was assembled on the raft again, Junna asked, “Okay. Who is going to explain what happened?”

The girls looked at each other, none willing to speak up. Finally Maya poked Karen in the back, whispering something about sacrifices.

“Right!” Karen said, jumping to her feet. “See, Kaoruko-chan said we should do an improv play. So I decided to be captain of our boat, but Futaba-chan got mad because I stranded everyone in the ocean and she wanted to get married to Kaoruko-chan, but then we realized that Hikari-chan was being a shark, so I tackled Maya-chan to sacrifice her, and we both got eaten!”

Kaoruko picked up the story next, after a pointed look from Futaba. “Our dear Kuro-han then told us she was married to Shark Hikari-han, so I told Hikari-han to eat her, as any proper wife should, and then Futaba-han bravely jumped in to fight her, and then Mahiru-han tried to propose to me by wrestling me, and then we both fell off the ship!”

Everyone looked at Junna with determined faces, ready to defend their play. Junna stared back at them, open mouthed. It took several moments for her to collect her thoughts.

“So… You’re telling me… That we go to the most prestigious theater academy in the country… and this is the best improv play you could come up with?”

Everyone turned away, making various awkward faces as they tried to avoid eye contact with their disappointed pseudo father figure.

“So,” Futaba said, attempting to give a normal, friendly smile that didn’t show her embarrassment, “how’d the frog hunting go?”

Junna let out a long sigh. “Nana found 13 different frogs and has started weaving grass into little hats for them to wear.”

“God. Nana is really just the cutest person in the world, isn’t she,” Claudine said, shaking her head.

“It’s certainly impressive,” Maya agreed. “She’s still planning on cooking dinner, yes?”

“That depends. Have you caught any fish yet?” Junna asked, the silence confirming the answer she already knew.

“Okay!” Mahiru decided, taking charge. “Let’s get back to it! Maya-chan, I’ll untangle your fishing rod. Hikari-chan, stay out of the water, okay?”

“But-”

“You’re probably scaring all the fish away! If you want to swim, do it somewhere else.”

Hikari pouted, taking a pole and moving to the edge of the raft. The rest of the group followed suit, Karen and Futaba joining her. Mahiru took Maya to the other side, getting to work on the tangled fishing line. Junna and Claudine returned to their original spot, Kaoruko flopping down beside them.

“You’re not going to help?” Claudine asked.

“Of course not! Futaba-han is the one who does the fishing. I’m the one who does the eating.”

“It’s always eating with you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, Junna-han, I’ve always wondered, does Banana-han taste like bananas?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Junna said, voice surprisingly steady for her red face.  “I’ve never eaten a banana in my life.”

Claudine snorted. “Don’t let Nana hear that. She’ll cry.”

“Ugh. You’re so boring today, Junna-han.”

“Alright, Maya-chan,” Mahiru said, handing Maya her detangled rod. “Just throw the hook into the water.”

“That’s all?” At Mahiru’s nod, Maya tossed the hook as best as she could. It landed with a sad plop a foot away from the raft.

“Try… throwing it a little harder than that,” Mahiru suggested. “Like a baseball!”

“A what?”

“A… baseball?”

Maya gave Mahiru a blank look. Mahiru was starting to get very concerned.

“How about… I’ll cast the line, and you can reel it in once we get a bite?”

Maya nodded, gladly relinquishing control.

“Hey! Hey! I got one!” Futaba shouted, a fish dangling from her line. “Look at that! Hey, Junna! You gotta measure it!”

Futaba bounded across the raft and shoved the fish in Junna’s face. Junna grimaced. “A little less enthusiasm, Isurugi, please.” Junna gingerly took the fish and pulled out her pocket ruler. “It’s about… six inches.”

“Six inches! Nice!”

Futaba ran over to their bucket and threw it the fish in, watching in awe as it started swimming around. Junna wrote down the exact measurement in her notebook, marking Futaba’s name with a star. She was the current winner. Claudine leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Do we tell Futaba that six inches is the smallest thing she can catch in this lake?”

“No,” Junna whispered back, “she’s already short enough. We don’t need to shrink her ego too.”

The fish started coming quick after that. Mahiru and Maya pulled in an eight inch one, topping the leaderboard for an hour. Karen was winning in terms of amounts, catching fish twice as fast as the rest of the group. There were whispers going around the raft that she was catching the same one, throwing it back in already on her hook. Their bucket kept filling up, though, two dozen small fish swimming in circles, scales flashing in the light.

“We should start cooking these,” Maya said, depositing her latest catch. “I’ll bring them over to Daiba-san.”

“Careful,” Claudine said, “she probably has a frog army at this point.”

“But they’re all wearing cute hats,” Mahiru reminded them. “So it’s okay.”

“Please make sure she hasn’t tried to become one with the frogs again,” Junna said, looking over at the shore with a frown on her face.

“Again?” Maya asked.

“Let’s not talk about it.”

Maya left for shore, bucket held above her head. She set it on the beach, next to their little grill, and headed off into the reeds to look for Nana. The croaking led Maya right to her.

Nana was crouched in a little clearing, several driftwood structures in front of her. It looked like a little village, complete with walkways and road signs. Frogs and toads of all kinds covered the ground. each one wearing a small grass hat. There must have been close to 50. Nana was moving them about, humming to herself. Maya took it all in wordlessly, then turned around and left. She’d come back to this later.

“You know,” Claudine said, “I’ve been thinking we should ban Nana from frogs. I think she’s too into them.”

“I think it’s kinda cute,” Junna said.

“Sure you would. But did you hear what she told me the other day? She told me the frogs watched over my dreams and then sang her songs to tell her what they learned. That’s terrifying.”

Junna paused for a moment. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

“Yes! Catch number 13!” Karen held up her newest fish and twirled around. “Aijo Karen, the best fisher girl in the world!”

Mahiru clapped politely. Junna sighed.

"I think I’m done with this," she said, getting to her feet.

"What, annoyed that Karen is having more luck than you?" Claudine asked.

"Yes.” Despite her best efforts, Junna hadn’t managed to catch a single fish in the entire two hours. No matter. She didn’t need a fishing rod to fish. “Kagura?" Junna held out her hand. Seconds later and a knife was in her grasp. Junna slid into the water and took off for shore.

"What is she doing?" Futaba asked.

"Trying to stab the fish?" Hikari suggested.

"More importantly," Claudine said, watching the awkward doggy paddle Junna had to use to keep her glasses above water, "why didn’t she bring her contacts?"

“I don’t think JunJun owns contacts,” Karen says.

"What?"

"Yeah, she says they’re annoying."

Maya frowned. "Wasn’t she wearing contacts during Starlight?"

"Nope!"

"So you’re saying that she was essentially blind the entire time?"

"Probably!"

"Oh, man," Futaba laughed. "That’s hardcore!"

"That explains why she was so insistent that the set pieces were placed in the exact same spot every time," Mahiru realized. Futaba started laughing harder.

"And why she ran right into the stairs when we moved them 2 inches forward!"

"What a loser," Kaoruko said.

"No, I’d say that’s very impressive," Maya said

"Don’t tell me," Claudine guessed, "you’re going to start practicing with a blindfold now, aren’t you."

"I was thinking about it."

"Oh my god."

“Oh?” Kaoruko asked. “I thought you’d be into blindfolded practice, Kuro-han.”

“Kaoruko, I’m going to push you off this raft soon.”

“Um, Daiba-san,” Maya said, back on shore. “Are you busy?”

“Hmm?” Nana looked up from her frogs. The village had grown in the fifteen minutes Maya had been gone, and now included a little driftwood castle. As best as Maya could tell, Nana was roleplaying a princess rescue, one frog trapped high up on the castle with a little grass crown, the other hopping along the ground and fighting the guards with its little grass sword.

Maya had no idea how to react to this scenario. She’d rather go back to the raft and learn about baseball. “We were… thinking of cooking soon. Did you want to help?”

“Oh! Of course!” Nana put down the seven frogs she was holding and tapped them on their heads. “Be safe now, okay?” Maya breathed a sigh of relief, leading Nana back to the grill.

“Were you able to catch a lot fish?” Nana asked.

“Somehow we managed.”

“Great!” Nana inspected the bucket, letting the smallest ones go free and passing the larger ones to Maya. The two of them set about to cleaning and cooking the fish.

Back on the raft, Kaoruko was getting bored.

“Futaba-haaaaan,” she called out, rolling across the wood to where Futaba was sitting. “I’m done with fishing.”

“Have you even touched a fishing rod yet?”

“No. I’m a lesbian, I don’t do that.”

Futaba turned around to high five her. “If I let you sit in my lap, will you be patient?”

“Yes!” Kaoruko scooted over and gladly took up her favorite position, head resting on Futaba’s legs.

“Oh! Me too!” Karen said. She laid down in the middle of raft, head resting on Kaoruko’s stomach. “Ahh~ This is nice.”

Mahiru and Hikari looked at each other and shrugged, joining the pile, Mahiru in Karen’s lap and Hikari in hers. Claudine looked over at the cluster of people.

“Wow. We’re all just abandoning fishing now, are we?”

“Yeah,” Futaba said, setting her rod aside and falling backwards. She landed on Mahiru’s stomach, sharing the space with Hikari.

“Hmph. That’s fine. If there’s no one left in the competition, then I’m the automatic winner!” Claudine pulled in a medium sized fish and tossed it in the bucket.

“Nice one, Kuro,” Futaba said. “Where’d you learn to fish so well?”

“Oh, you know. Hey- Looks like Junna is finally coming back.”

“Is she… carrying a bunch of sticks?” Mahiru asked.

“Alright, I’m ready to fish,” Junna said as she reached the raft, pulling herself up. She was indeed carrying several sticks, each sharpened to a point, as well as a larger wooden creation.

“Did you… make yourself a bow?” Claudine asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes.” Junna dried the wood off with her shirt and tested the string, nodding proudly as it vibrated the way she wanted.

“But. How?”

“It’s not that hard. You just need a knife and the proper tree.”

“Junna, you’re a menace.”

“Are you going to shoot the fish?” Futaba asked, looking eager.

“Yes,” Junna answered again. The rest of the girls sat up, moving closer to watch Junna at work. Junna picked up one of her makeshift arrows and pulled the bowstring back. She’d have to be careful. Without feathers, the arrows would fly differently. There was refraction to take into account as well. That was fine. Junna had calculated harder angles. She spied her target, several feet below the surface, and let the arrow fly.

A fish floated to the surface.

“Incroyable!”

“That was amazing!”

“JunJun, you’re the best!”

“See?” Junna said, looking smug. “Who needs a fishing rod to fish?”

“Am I allowed to stab fish with a knife now?” Hikari asked Mahiru.

“No.”

Nana arrived a short while later, swimming over with Maya sitting gracefully on her back, carrying the tray of food. The smell reached the girls well before the food did, their stomachs growling. Pretending to fish all day was hungry work.

“Dinner time!” Nana called. “I’ve got nine hot plates of Banana Grilled Fish!”

“Yeah!” the group shouted, rushing to take their share. It was delicious, as was everything Nana cooked

“Mm, Banana, you’re the best,” Futaba mumbled around a mouthful of fish.

“Did you bring one of your frogs with you?” Junna asked, spying a patch of green on top of Nana’s head.

“Yes! I didn’t want Anne to be lonely.”

“What happened to Shakespeare?”

“She ate him.”

“...Ah.”

Claudine frowned at the pair. “Do I want to know what you two are talking about?”

“No,” Maya answered, thinking of the frog village, “you don’t.”

“Hey, JunJun! Who won the fishing contest?”

“Me, right?” Futaba asked. “My first one was pretty big.”

Junna flipped through her notebook, scanning through the numbers. “I won.”

“What?”

“I won.”

“You only caught two fish!” Claudine protested. “And you shot those with arrows!”

“And I aimed well!”

“Congrats, Junna-chan!” Nana gave a big smile.

“Yeah, congrats,” Claudine said, making eye contact with Karen. “And you know what they say: the winner is the sacrifice.”

“What?”

“I’m on it!”

“Karen!”

Karen tackled Junna right off the edge. They landed with a loud splash, quickly sinking below the surface as Junna tried desperately to fight off Karen. None of the girls reacted.

“Sacrifice?” Nana asked.

Jyn hates the F train in the mornings.

If she's being honest with herself, she hates most things in the mornings, especially when those things come to redefine 'morning' as 'the ungodly hours before the sun even rises' during which she is still, inexplicably, expected to be awake. But she especially hates the F train. Before sunrise, the F train is usually close to silent. That, at least, is pleasant. But the sort of individuals she meets, without fail, on the 5 a.m. F train from Queens into Manhattan, make her loathe it all the more. There's always a man in a suit who's probably been awake for a couple of hours. He usually looks like he's worth more than the sum of every last dollar of her loans and then some, more-put together than she’s ever been, because no matter how she tries to dress it up, a six-year-old Harvard sweatshirt that carries a faint aroma of coffee and bleach never looks quite as impressive as she would like it to. The suit men always sound the same. Sometimes, they get on the train yelling into a Bluetooth, which makes Jyn want to politely ask them what the hell they're doing that demands more energy than she's had in a day of her life at five o'clock in the morning. There's always a dancer. Usually quiet, but Jyn can tell who they are because of the way they tap their feet incessantly (annoyingly) to the music emanating from their five-hundred-dollar headsets set just loud enough for her to hear a tinny whine. Jyn amends her previous observation. The F train is never quiet. It's just full enough with sound to wake her up. Which, of course, is the problem. There's always a dreamer. These ones never look the same save they way they seem to bounce into the train with uncharacteristically optimistic footsteps. The worst ones wear "I Heart New York" sweatshirts and are already holding frappucinos in their fingerless gloves as they smile at the sunrise over midtown. They're after something. Always, always after something, and always looking like God Himself sent them the sun and gave them the city. Jyn hates the dreamers. She makes their coffee every day, and they always ask for soy instead of whole milk. Or spend seventeen seconds giving you their exact preference, which usually involves flax, Stevia, the extract of an exotic nut, or so many pumps of fifteen different syrups that they're drinking glorified sugar water. They take their coffee and sit down for hours in front of their identical MacBooks and pound furiously at the keys as if they have a personal vendetta against the machines. The worst of them are the ones that get refills. She shudders at the thought. If you're going to spend eight hours  in a coffee shop, you shouldn't be spending twenty-five dollars a day on double-shot cashew milk lattes with three and a half pumps of roasted almond syrup and two of what Jyn assumes is just liquid gold, because it costs so much, and all of it over ice with a pumpkin biscotti.

She hates the cauterizing taste of reality when they leave.

The thing about the F train is that everyone on it is just stuck along the way to somewhere else. The man in the suit is headed for downtown to make his millions. The dancer is going to class. The dreamer is going nowhere, or maybe somewhere huge. But they’re all on the train just to step off it.

Jyn, on the other hand, is on the F train because she can’t move. Because she’s stuck.

And today, it’s like she’s been pushed off it and tied to the tracks.

She lets the soft buzz of the waking city numb her to the uncomfortable presence of a suit-clad man and his obnoxiously large briefcase next to her, jabbing her in the side. People had described New York as a city that never slept, before she’d decided to move there. It was the biggest lie she’d ever heard. New York slept. Not enough, certainly, but it did sleep, and the trick was to find a place where the night lasted longest. She thinks she’s found it in Queens, her unremarkable neighborhood and her quietude in the early trains back and forth to the city,  as more and more dreamers and dancers and millionaires file into the compartment with their overpriced pastries and designer bags. She can always tell when they’re approaching the city by what it is they carry. The first time she catches a Prada bag, she stands for a few minutes before sliding out onto the platform, dwarfed by the dreamers and the dancers and the millionaires that stand on the other side of the closing doors, lying in wait.

And the fool, watching the train pull away from the station, bleached sweatshirt and black coffee and the heavy remains of her dreams, alone on the platform. Fourth Street is still empty at five-thirty, save the few early commuters already scrambling to make stoplights on their way to work downtown. She knows from experience no car is getting to the tip of the island before seven.

Jyn opens on Fridays because she figures it’s the least she can do for the people who allow her to sleep until at least eight most other days. Then again, Mothma is a self-professed morning person, so she wonders with more than a little bitterness why she’s not the one spending her Fridays polishing machines and setting tables before the sun even rises.

The chimes clank together unceremoniously as she pushes the door open, flipping the lights, checking the alarms, taking stock of the morning. They’re low on the toasted almond again, which Jyn considers a bit of a blessing -- crossing it off the “Latte of the Day” board is one of the few genuinely pleasurable aspects of her experience -- and she scribbles the various baked goods on the list Bodhi left behind the night before out onto the chalkboard. She’s never had much of a liking for anything besides butter croissants. And only the good ones, at that, no frills, because that defeats the purpose of the pastry. (Bodhi says it’s because she “hates fun,” but she largely equates his ideas of “fun” to hers of “absurd,” so he’ll have to forgive her for being underwhelmed by the idea of a baked almond Nutella croissant with apricot filling. Even Mothma vetoed that one.)

Not ten minutes after the cheerful neon of the “OPEN” sign has flickered to life, Bodhi stumbles through the door, grabbing an apron from off the hooks and tying it with practiced, subconscious motion as he cranes his neck to look into the kitchen. “Have you checked to see how it’s doing?”

“What?”

“My starter. It’s supposed to be finished this morning. How’s it rising?”

“Bodhi, the last thing you want is me touching anything you’re trying to make decently.”

He glances at her, briefly, taking stock of her situation. She realizes she hasn’t even taken off the sweatshirt, let alone bothered with the apron, and raises her eyebrows. He seems to concur, rushing back and lifting a rag off a large pot of what she assumes is some sort of unborn pastry batter, and whooping when whatever it is he sees confirms that the “starter” -- Jyn has absolutely no idea what that is -- has “risen” properly. He’s working on transferring it to another glob of batter when he stops short and suddenly, looking back up at her like he’s remembered something, but speaking softly, like he almost forgot.

“Any word on Galen?”

There it is. She swallows hard and sighs. “Ten years. They’re sending him upstate somewhere. Didn’t really bother listening after they told me.”

Bodhi wipes his hands down on a towel, and his face reads only genuine, disarming sympathy. He has a knack for that. It’s frustrating.

“Did you talk to him?”

She closes her eyes and leans back to rest her head against the chalkboard. “I’m not interested in talking to him.”

It comes out sounding more clipped than she’d intended, but then again, so do most things. She doesn’t bother correcting it, and neither does Bodhi. He’s learned better than to engage Jyn before eight in the morning, and especially not when it comes to Galen. She much prefers the solitude of her own mind; that much is abundantly clear. He’s never tried to understand her headspace, and he probably never will. He doesn’t have to.

“At least it's over, though,” he continues, because Bodhi is nothing if not a skilled listener, always a reader of faces rather than books. And Jyn, he knows, could use that. “The proceedings, I mean. At least you don't have to wait anymore.”

“I suppose. What is it you're making?”

And Jyn is nothing if not a skilled pivoter. He grins at the mass of grease and flour lying on the counter in front of him, taking the form of what Jyn guesses is a loaf. It's impressive, she notes. Bodhi’s never been excellent at breads that aren't delicate, temperamental French varieties that wither and die at the slightest change in temperature or texture or, God forbid, the wrong kind of flour. He pays such careful attention to those that he easily loses track of anything else he tries.

“Sourdough.”

“Sourdough?”

“Yeah. It's a great base for the lunch menu Mothma’s looking to introduce. Figured I'd test it on the crowd today, gauge the reaction.”

“You want to give out free samples of plain bread?”

“Plain br—Jyn,” he begins, eyes widening in apparent horror at her judgement of his latest experiment. “Sourdough is not plain. It's the—it's the foundation of all other bread. Everything you ever eat. Every sandwich you've ever had, every—every one of those butter croissants—all of it. All of it, Jyn! All of it derives from this bread. Good sourdough,” he almost whispers, as if it's a secret that only he knows and has liberty to share, “is a record. It is not plain bread. It's the most careful and precise and fundamental of breads. This—” He waves towards his glob of sourdough. “—is the only bread. And I'm going to get it right, or I'll lose hundreds of dollars in ingredients trying until Mothma finally agrees to subsidize me.”

Jyn wants to laugh. She thinks better of it. 

“Have at it, then. But be out here when the East Villagers start heading in. You know I can't handle that kind of coffee.”

“Can't? Or won't?”

“Bodhi.”

“You know what? That's fine. I'll save your job again because apparently that's my job. Never mind that I'm about to completely remake this place with the sheer wonderment that is this—”

“Plain bread.”

“—sourdough.”

“Right. You're also a barista.”

“I'm a visionary.”

“Sure. A visionary barista. Who makes visionary coffee.”

“Just you wait, Jyn. One day I'll bake something so incredible that you actually smile at it. I swear to you.”

“No.”

“Just you wait.”

The chime rings as a tired-looking man in a truly horrendous argyle sweater and, inexplicably, a pair of expensive sunglasses pushes open the door and grins.

“Baze,” he calls. “Look. They have bagels.”

I hate my job, Jyn thinks.

“Good morning,” says Sunglasses Indoors Man, approaching the counter and glancing at the menu board.

“Pretty bold assumption there, buddy,” she mutters. To him, she chirps with a cadence so artificial it almost tastes like Stevia, “Welcome to Coquin.”

A massive, hulking figure of a man casually strolls in the door and comes to stand a few inches behind Sunglasses Man. She assumes this is Baze, because he makes no introduction aside from, “I'll have three of the cinnamon bagels.” His companion continues to examine the daily specials. Still wearing the glasses.

“You fool,” Baze grumbles. Then, to Jyn, almost sympathetically but just gruff enough not to give it away, “He's blind.”

She's surprised he's so blunt about it and more than a little confused that the man in argyle, rather than chastising Baze for so plainly giving away his guise, just laughs. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she also wonders why he insists upon wearing the sunglasses indoors, if he can't see anyway.

But she doesn't claim to be an expert on blindness.

“Are you kidding me. This is a coffee shop, Baze. There's only so much to see.”

Jyn is two seconds away from forcing the issue and demanding his order. If they wanted to banter, they should've waited outside. She can see past them that a few women have already fallen into line and are tapping their feet impatiently.

The city never waits.

“Sir,” she begins, tiredly, “I can read the options to you if you—”

“That won't be necessary,” he interjects, still grinning slightly, turning to fix her with his shaded eyes,  even though a part of her realizes, he should have no way of knowing that she's standing exactly where she is. Nor should he be able to locate the menu board beyond her head given only the sound of her voice. “I believe you tend to prefer simplicity. Am I correct to assume that it would be easiest to order a small coffee, black, no cream no sugar?”

“That would be easiest, sir, but—”

“I'll take it, then,” he finishes, turning to the man at his side. “Do you have the bagels?”

As a reply, Baze accepts three of them from Bodhi and hands one to him, almost swallowing it in his massive hands. “Here.”

“Coffee, black?” Bodhi calls from the other side of the counter.

“Are you aware that you come off as rather hostile?”

If Jyn hadn't been looking at him, she would've thought he was addressing a particularly rude customer in line. But there is no doubt—he's staring directly at her through his Ray-Bans, face still and silent and open. It's bizarre, she thinks, that it bears no sign of intentional insult.

“Excuse me?” is all she manages, and she hopes it’s caustic enough to turn him away.

Instead, he smiles.

“I'm Chirrut Imwe,” he says, as if that explains everything. “You seem to be on edge. I hope the remainder of your day is more pleasant than your morning has certainly been.”

All Jyn can do is blink, openmouthed, while Bodhi calls, “Coffee, black?” for a second time.

“Come on,” Baze mutters, and Jyn swears she can see his eyes roll, the gesture disappearing after she blinks. “She's not interested in your philosophizing.”

“Of course she isn't. No one is. That's the point.”

“Your coffee is ready,” she deadpans, and Chirrut grins again.

“I am aware. Thank you,” he replies. “May I ask you your name?”

Why she tells him, to this day, Jyn fails to understand. But there is a certain sense about him, an aura she can't quite shake, that tells her he knows something. And something in her figures he'd find out either way.

“It's Jyn,” she says, typing three bagels and a coffee into the register and choking when she sees how expensive it is. Baze swiped a credit card with an offhand, “Go ahead, Chirrut. Bankrupt me.”

He nods, seeming to mull the word over. She can't see a thing beyond the darkness of his glasses, obfuscating his eyes, but she knows he is studying her, and it makes her uneasy. She doesn't like people trying to understand her. They tend to be disappointed.

“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Jyn comments, flatly.

The corners of Chirrut’s lips turn up as Baze reaches to grab the cup from Bodhi, spanning the distance between them easily, and places it carefully in Chirrut’s hands.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and she estimates that those words are meant for Baze. Then, pointedly, “Good day, Jyn.”

She forces a grin and raises her eyebrows at the odd couple. “Thank you for your business.”

Jyn gains a few precious minutes of respite when the next seven people in line request simple, run-of-the-mill orders—coffee, black, the occasional white mocha, all to go and all tapping their feet with impatience at the necessity of the time Bodhi takes to create them.

(No one has dedicated as much time to perfecting the art of the latte as Bodhi Rook has. Her first day working here, she stood in awe for a solid ten minutes, mesmerized by the practiced miniature paintings he managed to create in the half-inch-thick foam of every mug.)

It is during these times that Jyn can almost shut down, never really enjoying the work she does, but never actively despising it. It's easy enough, simple, devoid of questions. She takes comfort in it. There's always the cold monotony of espresso when the chaos gets too loud.

After the eleventh white mocha of the day, the phone rings. She doesn't expect to hear it over the quiet emanation of Fleet Foxes or whatever it is Bodhi’s fallen in love with this week from the speakers, but it's jarring, all raw and sharp in the soft-edge world behind the counter. It doesn't match.

The second she reaches across Bodhi, carefully balancing three macchiatos and a scone on a tray for the extraordinarily awkward double date in the process of derailing itself in the corner of the shop, to answer it, she wishes she hadn't.

******

“Oh, God,” Kay sighs, and he hears her eyes rolling before he sees them. “No. You can't be serious.”

She dwarfs the entire establishment, really, which isn't a particular surprise. At seven foot one, her massive, lanky shadow extends through the door before he's even bothered to open it. He's used to feeling small. He would never have made it through three years of Yale and two in New York with her if he hadn't been.

“Don't act so surprised. I told you we were trying the one on Fourth.”

“Yeah. But this?” Kay extends her hand in the general direction of the cafe. “It's so unwelcoming. Look at them. You don't need a degree in mathematics to understand that the probability of that date falling to pieces in the next ten minutes is—” She breaks off, as she is wont to do when she is, as she explains it, considering the variables. “—oh, I'd say a conservative eighty percent, maybe as high as eighty-three. Neither one of us wants to see that.”

“This was part of the deal, Kay. Every coffee in New York.”

“Did we agree to that?”

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. “You're the one with the photographic memory.”

Not quite defeated but resigned to the frivolous inevitability of the next installation of his agenda, Kay pushes open the glass door and holds it as he comes through, just so she can hear the first strains of music from inside and manage another comment about the status of the couple at the window table complete with statistics and tremendous exasperation before they're within earshot.

It's a very nice place, Cassian thinks, all wide open spaces and natural light and meticulously-placed wooden tables, a friendly little chalkboard proclaiming “Latte of the Day” near the counter, behind which stands a man placing the last flourish of cream on someone’s order with great concentration, his eyebrows knitted. Steadily, he hands the mug across the table to an imposing-looking Wall Street sort in an expensive-looking suit, smiling as he glances Cassian.

“Welcome to Coquin,” he says, “how can I—”

Cassian estimates that Kay sees, or perhaps senses, her before he does, because he hears her groan very softly and mutter, “Oh, this ought to be pleasant,” moments before the doors to what he assumes to be the prep room swing open, crashing against the wall and rattling the pastries in the display with a disproportionately powerful force in comparison to the tiny woman who storms through them.

She seeps the placidity from the air instantaneously, and he glances at Kay, whose face has settled into its usual expression: part annoyance, part defiance, part pride. So that's how it's going to be.

“Can I help you?” she snarls..

He decides that dramatic entrances seldom impact quality of coffee.

“Hi. I'd like a small cinnamon latte, please, two pumps.”

He amends his decision. The woman behind the counter raises her eyebrows in plain disgust, and he's pleased, at least, that she's easier than a book to read. Cassian makes a mental note to include “questionably consistent, unfriendly staff” to his eventual report.

The silence stretches for a long time, and the wide open windows suddenly feel more like prison walls than exits.

She grins, nothing but fire and vitriol and a sharp undercurrent he can't quite put his finger on. There's something to be said for writing plays, at least; he’s spent enough time staring at faces to read them very well.

The latte artist finishes adjusting the last of the pastries she displaced with her entrance and glances at her, concerned.

“Jyn,” he starts, placing a careful hand on her shoulder. “I can deal with—”

“No. I've got it.” She turns back to him, the same profile, marble and stone and plaster that's cracking even as he watches. “Cinnamon, you said?”

“That's right.”

She yanks a mug from the stack near the biscotti and turns away.

“Grab a table,” he mutters to Kay.

The woman making his coffee is not adept at doing so, that much is obvious. Behind her, the other barista throws his hands in the air, seemingly defeated in some argument he can't quite catch.

Kay reaches across the table to cover his computer with her hand before he has the chance to open it.

“This was a bad idea,” she remarks, a little too loudly.

Cassian just grunts. “This might be the greatest latte you've ever seen. We don't know yet.”

“Cassian, did you see that? Do you not have eyes?”

“Right, Kay, that's the problem. Of course I saw it. I'm just saying—”

“She seems aggressive.”

“Says the broker.”

“I'm a professional gambler. All I do is read people. The only difference between you and I is that I make money doing it.”

He sighs and opens the computer as Kay reclines, knocking her knees against the table in the process. “You're not really going to do this, are you?”

“Do what?” he replies, slipping earbuds in.

“You know what. Adopt this place. Like you did the last one. You have a house, you know. Or maybe you don't, considering I pay all the rent around here—”

“Not true.” Cassian glares at her. She just scoffs. “You know I'm doing this to get to Saw. I’ll be finished soon.”

“How many drafts are you going to write before—”

The barista, resigned to his seeming inability to convince the woman who made the coffee to surrender it, fixes Cassian with a pointed, pitying glance at the same time as the short, angry woman yells, “Cinnamon latte!” from behind the counter. Kay smirks when he stands to retrieve it.

“I can't wait for this,” she comments, averting her eyes to her phone when he turns to reply. “Look at that. The Dow’s back up again. It's a miracle.”

Cassian is fairly certain she hasn't even turned the phone on, but he wouldn't be surprised if the Dow was, in fact, back up again. He'd learned to stop doubting Kay a long time ago.

Jyn—that's what the barista had called her, he remembers, Jyn—makes no effort this time to maintain any semblance of politeness.

“You can choke,” she says, without explanation or embellishment. Cassian doubts any is required. He takes the coffee—decidedly not a cinnamon latte, judging by the bizarre mud-brown color—and appraises her more closely.

If he forgets the fury for a moment, she just looks tired.

“Thank you. Have a good afternoon.”

He's not quite out of earshot when she turns back to the machines and flips several switches at once. “Damn it all to hell.”

She hands him a napkin—an afterthought—and disappears behind the doors again.

To her credit, Kay actively tries to suppress her snickering when he sets the mug down on the table. He wonders if whatever it was with which Jyn attempted to poison him is actually coffee at all, or whether it's some other, anonymous compound, because he swears it's starting to fester.

Tentatively, he sips it. And promptly realizes that, as Jyn perhaps predicted, he can choke on it.

“Cinnamon,” he rasps between coughing fits. “It's straight cinnamon.”

“Hmm?”

“It's black coffee with cinnamon in it.”

“You mean just the syrup?”

“No. I mean cinnamon. Cinnamon powder.”

“Let me try it.”

Kay snatches it from his hand, sniffs briefly. She cringes before it even hits her throat.

“Wow. That's—that's really, really terrible.”

Cassian has difficulty speaking because he's coughing again, but his eyes fill with something like laughter.

“How did she manage it?”

“It seems pretty simple to me.”

“No, not the coffee. I mean how did she manage to almost kill the both of us, the barista, and the future of this establishment in under five minutes? I’d be impressed if I weren’t so revolted.”

“You’re always revolted, Kay. Just admit that you’re afraid someone else has bested you in bitterness and move along.”

Kay hunches over the phone again and hisses softly. Even like this, when she has her work face on, the one that means no one can read her, that she’s about to close on a deal and is making certain that all of her calculated results are sufficiently probable, Cassian can feel her exasperation. He’d asked her once why she’d decided to work on Wall Street, why she even bothered with the underfurnished studio in Brooklyn they shared when she could just as easily have bought a penthouse on the Upper East Side and made a name for herself among traders there. She had halted in her tracks, a momentary pause in what he assumed to be the near-constant stream of numbers and words and outcomes he couldn’t begin to fathom that constituted her mind.

He thinks maybe she didn’t know then. He thinks maybe she doesn’t know now, either.

“Because you’re smart,” she’d said. “And if I had to spend all day surrounded by the people they pass off for geniuses at the stock exchange, I’d lose my mind.”

He hadn’t bothered mentioning that the average IQ of her colleagues probably exceeded his by a large margin, or that she might need to reevaluate her priorities when it came to who she deemed intelligent enough to function, considering she tended to operate like a slightly standoffish supercomputer most of the time. He knew she was dodging her way around something she didn’t understand. He was one of the very few people who had ever witnessed her do it.

There are very few things the two of them can hide.

Setting the cinnamon-espresso disaster to the side, Cassian opens the computer and indents another paragraph. He has started to hate himself a little for the way they all sound the same, every single article in the massive folder “saw.zip” beginning in one of three generic ways. There’s not a lot to say about coffee, he’s found. There comes a point in writing where he may as well be blind.

He figures he has little left to lose either way and starts at the keys with a ferocity that startles even Kay.

There are two sorts of coffee shops in Manhattan. In one variety, you enter and leave quietly, hands full of the work you brought to do and an overpriced pastry-drink combination that may be either divine or mediocre. Rarely is anything truly terrible.

In the second variety, you enter quietly, pick up your overpriced pastry-drink combination, and proceed to very nearly choke on a concoction of cinnamon, espresso, and the undisguised rage of the barista responsible.

The phone buzzed, unnoticed, amidst the scattered papers andpens thrown across Eli’s desk. She typed away at her computer angrily, eachforceful key press echoing through the empty office.

Three weeks. Three weeks ago, she’d told her boss thedeadline was unreasonable. They’d need twice the man power or twice the time,she’d said, holding up the piece of paper where she’d laid out all hercalculations. And what had her boss said?

No.

The deadline was set.

Get it done.

Eli grit her teeth. How could some people be so stupid?Evidence clear as day was presented to him, and he ignored it.

She came back to him a week later. Here is where we’re at,she said. Here is where we need to be. Look how behind we are. Look how much thereis left to do. It is impossible to meet this deadline.

Do it anyways, her boss had said, and then picked up hisphone to chat to his golfing buddy.

Eli’s phone buzzed again. She ignored it.

One week ago. The entire department was behind her. We can’tdo this, they all said. It was completely unreasonable from the start. Therewas no chance. They needed to extend the deadline.

Unfortunately, their boss was on vacation.

Eli slammed the enter key after the millionth line ofnumbers. Her poor keyboard was going to break at this rate. Assuming herfingers didn’t break first. Because here she was, a day before the project wasdue, trying to do the work of a dozen people in a fraction of the time sheneeded.

Never mind it was Sunday, and everyone was gone. Never mindshe had told the company she needed to take today off no matter what. Nevermind it was her birthday, and she was supposed to be out celebrating with hergirlfriends. Not like her boss cared about any of that.

Eli’s phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that day, and shefinally snatched it up. She was going to turn this thing off, like she shouldhave done hours ago. She didn’t need any more distractions.

It was a picture from Nico, she noticed, her finger on thepower button. Nine pictures, in fact. What was she doing, sending pictures?Nico knew how busy she was. Against her better judgement, Eli decided to openthem.

Picture 1: A crudely made sign filled the frame, the words“Welcome to the match of the centry!!!” written in curly pink letters. Centurywas misspelled – was that on purpose, or was Nico’s spelling really that awful?It could go either way, if Eli was honest. And what did that even mean, matchof the century? She swiped to the next message.

Picture 2:  “Opponentone”, another sign said, taped on the wall. Nozomi stood below it, afake-serious frown on her face, wearing a tank top to show off her arms. Shewas standing in a power pose, mittens covering her fists. What were theygetting up to now? Eli wasn’t sure if she needed to be concerned or not. Still,she spent an extra second or two looking at her girlfriend’s face. Who knewwhen she’d next to get to see Nozomi?

Picture 3: Opponent number two was Nico, apparently, wearingone Eli’s work suits. The pants were trailing on the ground, the sleeveshanging well past Nico’s hands. The tie, at least, was perfectly done. Nico’spose was hunching over a little, holding a soup ladle close to the ground likea golf club. The final touch was a sharpie mustache, complete with cartooncurls at the ends. Eli bit back her laughter, but couldn’t hold in her smile.What was she doing in that ridiculous get up?

Picture 4: Round 1, said the sign, hanging from the ceiling.Underneath it were two chairs, stacked precariously on top of each other. Infront were Nozomi and Nico, facing off like a boxing match. Nozomi was on theright, mittened-hands held up in front of her (and Eli once again took a momentto appreciate Nozomi’s biceps). Nico was on the other side, ladle restingagainst her shoulder and a phone in her hand, like she didn’t have a care inthe world.

Picture 5: The end of the match. Nozomi had Nico in a chokehold, looking awfully pleased with herself. Nico looked half dead, mouth openand tongue hanging out the side. Her body was limp, the ladle discarded on thefloor. Eli let herself laugh, finally, the tension in her chest lightening justa little. A resounding victory for Nozomi.

Picture 6: Round 2. This sign was dangling from one corner,the chair tower having collapsed behind it. A new band aid had appeared onNico’s cheek. It wasn’t stopping her: she looked raring to go after her defeat,ladle held like a baseball bat. Nozomi had a lazy grin on her face, one handraised in a “come and get me” position. The trio of little giraffe figures she’dcollected as a child were sitting on the table nearby. A captured audience.

Picture 7: Eli winced at the results of the battle. Nozomiwas on the ground, arms covering her head. Nico towered over her (as much asNico could tower over anyone), ready to use Nozomi’s head as a golf ball. Thelittlest giraffe was on its side, the leg of another covering its eyes, as iftrying to shield it from the horror of defeat.

Picture 8: “Final round!!!!!!!!!” the sign read, propped upbetween the giraffes. Nozomi had traded one of her mittens for an oven mitt (Apower-up? A surprise weapon? Eli’d have to ask later). After carefulinspection, Eli spotted the lost mitten on the end of the soup ladle, which hadbeen cast away on the floor. Instead Nico had her bare fists up, and moreimportantly, had retied her pigtails around her face so it looked like a beard.Nozomi had done it too, Eli realized, laughing again. They both looked utterlyridiculous. Even the giraffes had been given tiny paper beards, and Eli trulylost it at that, laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

The final picture, Eli saw through her tears, was Nozomitriumphant, standing proud above Nico’s dead body, hands on her hips and onefoot on Nico’s stomach. Confetti was strewn around the floor, along with somehalf-filled balloons. For whatever reason, Eli was the only one of the threewho could properly blow up balloons, and it looked like neither of them hadlearned for this photoshoot. Instead they’d taken the red ones and scatteredthem around Nico to mimic blood. The entire picture – the tipped over thechairs, the bearded giraffes, the discarded signs in the background, Nico’sunraveled beard and Nozomi’s pristine one – it all melded together into onebeautiful disaster. Or possibly a fever dream.

How long had she been working now? It must have been nearingevening. She’d have to work fast to be home by dinner. Eli wiped the last ofthe tears from her eyes and finally shut off her phone. She’d congratulate thevictor later, once all of this was done. For now, she was feeling fired up andready to go.

“We should add meat to the list,” Eli was saying, her voice just above a whisper.

“You planning on making yakiniku again?” Nico asked.

“I was thinking of it.”

“Didn’t we have that last week?”

“It won’t hurt to have it again.”

“You’re just weak to a sleeping face,” Nico said, and Nozomi knew without seeing that Nico was rolling her eyes, just as she could hear the smile in Eli’s response.

“Can you blame me?”

It must be Eli sitting next to her, then. Nozomi liked to think she would have guessed that earlier, if she had been more awake. She’d pretend to have known from the start, if it came to that. She had a reputation to uphold after all.

“She’s not going to repay the favor, you know.”

“And why not?”

“’Cause it’s Nozomi, that’s why. She’s probably listening to us right now, and she’s not thinking, ‘Oh, Eli’s so nice, making my favorite food, I’ll buy her lots of chocolate in thanks.’ No, she’s thinking, ‘Oh, Nico’s going to make me eat vegetables again, like a healthy adult, how should I punish her?’ Hey- Look- she’s smiling! I’m right!”

Ah, had she accidentally made her grin visible? How sloppy of her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nicocchi,” Nozomi mumbled.

“Sure you don’t.”

“Did we wake you?” Eli asked, concern in her voice. Her fingers left Nozomi’s hair, and Nozomi sighed in disappointment.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Nozomi yawned and forced herself up. Eli gave her a warm smile that Nozomi gladly returned before she looked across the table to the smirking Nico. “It sounds like I’m supposed to punish Nicocchi already, so I’ll just add this in.”

“If you do I’ll ban meat from this house for the next month.”

“Aw, Nicocchi, you’re so cruel.” Nozomi yawned again, tilting to the side until her head found Eli’s shoulder. Should she continue her nap? Mm, that sounded like a good idea. It wasn’t like she had anything to do right now. Surely she could trust them to make a shopping list.

“Ah, Nozomi,” Eli said, almost hesitantly, her thumb brushing Nozomi’s cheek.

“Hmm?”

“Okay, that’s pretty funny.”

“You have a mark from the pencil…” Eli rubbed the spot again, and Nozomi heard a click sound from Nico’s direction. A picture? That wouldn’t do. She’d have to delete that before it got used against her…

But Eli was warm, and soft, and a moment later Nozomi was fast asleep again.

Eli liked to think of herself as someone who was composed, someone who could adapt flawlessly to any situation with grace. She had cultivated that persona for years, holding her head high and hiding all traces of bewilderment she might feel when the world throws her for a loop. She had mastered the art of it all – or so she had thought.

“I’ve been to Moscow a hundred times,” she muttered under her breath, “I shouldn’t be this lost in a city.”

Eli glared at the gps on her phone, then spun in a circle and glared at the buildings surrounding her. People pushed past her on all sides, chattering away; cars flew down the road; even the wind whistling through the tall buildings was deafening. It near overwhelmed Eli, and the knowledge that this was a quiet time of day terrified her.

Already, Eli was missing her quiet life in her small Russian village. Sure, there was nothing to do there, and she had long grown tired of seeing the same faces day in and day out, but at least she could breathe. Even when she managed to find her way back to her apartment, she wouldn’t be able to block out the noise.

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous,” a voice said.

Well, Eli wasn’t a quitter – except sometimes, when she was, but that was in the past, and she wasn’t going to be like that anymore – and she was simply going to have to get used to it. She just needed some time, is all.

“Hey, do you have a map?” the voice continued. “Cause I think I’m lost in your eyes.”

“Oh.” Eli finally noticed the young woman standing in front of her. She was short, even for the Japanese, and she wore a bright smile that Eli felt she could trust. What had she said? Everyone spoke so fast here – was it something about being lost? That must be it. “Ah, yes, I’ve gotten a little turned around.  Would you mind giving me directions?”

The woman looked surprised for a moment – had Eli said something wrong? – but she bounced back instantly. “Oh, you’re new here! That’s great! I’m Yazawa Nico, just Nico is fine, and I’ll be your tour guide! I’ll show you alllllllll the wonders of Japan, don’t you worry.”

Nico hooked her arm through Eli’s, who for the first time in years found herself unable to keep up with what was happening, and pulled her down the street.

“So! European, right? You’ve got to be, with those blue eyes. What country? My first guess was France, but you don’t sound French, at least I don’t think so. German maybe? Russian? What other countries are over there… Ukraine? Norway? Chile? Wait, no, that’s one of the Americas, isn’t it? I was never very good with geography. Hey! Have you ever thought about dancing?”

Eli gaped at Nico. What had she gotten herself into? At least Nico’s barrage of questions had been said at a slower pace than before, and once Eli pulled herself together she realized she had managed to understand it all.

“Yes, I’m Russian, but I’m actually more Japanese than Russian, it’s just been a while since I’ve been here…” Fifteen years, to be exact. Eli had planned on coming back sooner, possibly for high school, but life got in the way, and now she barely remembered anything about the country. “And I used to dance, but not anymore.”

“Perfect! I knew it the moment I saw you!” Nico nodded to herself, as if acknowledging what a genius she was. She dragged Eli into a random building, sat her down at a table, disappeared, and returned a few moments later with two steaming cups of something in her hands. Nico moved fast, slipping around people and darting through the crowds, and between watching her and breathing in the smell of coffee that filled the small café, Eli was almost dizzy. She took the cup Nico handed her gratefully.

“I forgot to ask what you like,” Nico said, “so I just got hot chocolate, because who actually likes coffee? I mean, my friend Maki does, but she’s a med student and I think an addiction to coffee is required for graduation, so she doesn’t count. Also, what’s your name?”

“Elizaveta Alexandrovna,” Eli said, sipping her hot chocolate and grimacing as it burned her tongue. Nico gave her a blank stare and Eli sighed. Right. Japan. “Eli in Japanese. Ayase Eli.”

“Cool. What’re you doing in Japan, Eli? Visiting? Moving?”

“Moving. I graduated university a year ago, but I couldn’t find any interesting work back home, so I thought I’d try here. Plus…” Eli hesitated a moment, then continued on. “I have a friend here, we’ve been sending each other letters for years, and it’d be nice to finally meet in person.”

“What, you two were pen pals or something?” Nico scoffed at the idea. “That’s stupid. This is the twenty-first century, we have phones and webcams. Use those and you can find out someone’s abandoned you after a week, instead of waiting 3 months for a letter that will never come.”

“What?”

“Anyway!” The odd darkness that had clouded Nico’s eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and she was back to her sunny and dazzling self an instant later. “When are you going to meet this mystery friend of yours?”

“I don’t know… We haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“Seriously? Come on! How long have you two been friends?”

“About ten years.”

“Ten years! And you’re not racing down the streets to throw yourself in their arms? What kind of friends are you?”

“Well… It’s kinda nerve wracking, isn’t it?” Eli gave a sheepish grin. “I like to think I know her pretty well, but talking in person is a lot different than writing. And what would we do? We’ve never had to… do anything together before.”

“You could see a movie? Go bowling? Go to an arcade? An amusement park? Take a walk through the park? Go to the beach? See touristy stuff? Go-”

“Okay, okay, I get it! There’s lots of things to do!” They laughed together, and Eli felt her nervousness ease, just a little.

They left the café a little while later, Nico leading the way to Eli’s apartment. She pointed out various landmarks that Eli tried her best to commit to memory, and talked nonsense the rest of the time. Eli had tuned her out by the end of it, which she felt bad about, but it was exhausting going from Japanese class once a week to full immersion with native speakers. She needed a nap.

“And ta-da! Home sweet home, right?” Nico gestured to the apartment building, which Eli was slowly beginning to think of as hers.

“Yes, thank you Nico. You were a great help.” Eli made her way to the door with relief, Nico following a few steps behind.

“So, hey, Eli, you want to go out with me?” Nico asked, and Eli paused on the threshold.

Did she? She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have another friend here, especially one in the area. Somehow, she got this feeling that hanging around Nico could lead to more trouble than it was worth, with her impulsive actions… but Eli had had fun, and moving to a new country meant taking risks, didn’t it?

“Alright,” Eli decided. “Message me if you want to meet up, then. My job doesn’t start for another couple weeks, so I should be free whenever.”

Nico grinned, raising her hands up in some weird pose. “You got it!”

~*~

Dear Nozomi,

I ran into the oddest person the other day…

Nico’s words kept spinning around in Eli’s mind. There was no doubt about it: the correct course of action was to ask Nozomi to meet up. She couldn’t imagine Nozomi saying no, and surely they would be able to find something to do. Still, there was that fluttering of her heart that came up whenever she read one of Nozomi’s letters, or whenever she looked at that jar slowly filling up with paper stars, and it made her hesitate.

Eli folded the 484th star, finished the letter, and didn’t write anything at all about getting together.

~*~

Eli’s phone buzzed early in the morning, and she groaned as she opened her eyes to sunlight. Buying curtains was moving up in her priority list. A fan, too, she decided, as she spotted the blanket lying on the floor. She had vague memories of kicking it off during the night, unable to deal with the heat. The phone vibrated again, and Eli fumbled through the clutter piled on her night stand until she found it.

11:03 am, the screen read. Not that early, then, and she couldn’t use jet lag as an excuse anymore. Well, she was technically on vacation, so she was allowed to sleep in. Eli yawned and pushed herself into an upright position.  

“It’s your favorite up and coming idol, Nico-Nii!” the message read, “I compleeeeeeeeeeeetely forgot to ask you something important the other day. Think you can find the coffee shop again and meet me there? You won’t regret it, I promise!”

The gps said the café was a 20 minute walk. Eli gave herself an hour to hunt down the place, and prided herself on getting there in 45 minutes. She bought a chocolate latte and sat down at the same table as before. Nico walked in a short while later, looking almost dressed up in her pink blouse and doodle-print skirt. It was a cute look.

“You actually made it!” Nico said, dropping herself in the chair. “I’m surprised. I thought I’d have to rescue you again.”

“I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Yeah? How long did it take you?”

Eli took a sip of her drink instead of answering and ignored Nico’s smirk. “Anyways, what was that important question you had?”

“Oh yeah! You said you knew how to dance, right?”

“I did, but…”

“What about singing? You have any experience with that?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, that’s fine. Your accent is a bit thick, but your voice is nice, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

“Wait, problems with what? What are you talking about?”

“My idol group, of course!” Nico said it with such confidence and energy that Eli almost nodded in understanding before she realized that she still had no idea what Nico was talking about.

“Your… idol group? You mean, like a celebrity?”

“Sure. But idols are better, and a whole lot cuter! I’m aiming to be the number one idol in the entire universe! Me and my friend Maki are forming an idol group together. We’re going to debut soon, but we’re looking for one more member first. That’s where you come in!”

“What? Hold on-”

“You said you’re free for a couple weeks, right? That’s plenty of time to catch up on the dance moves, and we’re almost done with the song, and then we can find time to meet outside of work. Of course, once we make it big, we’ll have to practice full time, so don’t get too attached to your job, okay?”

“Wait, wait, I haven’t agreed to anything yet. Why are you picking me for this?”

“Uh, because you’re hot? And you just have that talented look about you, too. I’ve got a sense for this stuff, you know! I can see it now,” Nico said, stars in her eyes, “your face on magazine covers, the headlines crying out about the new foreign star, Ayase Elizabeth-“

“Elizaveta.”

“Same thing?”

“As same as Nico and Nicole.”

“That’s kinda cute, actually.”

Eli sighed heavily. “Nico, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested in joining your idol group.”

“Aw, come on. Why not?”

“Because… because I have enough stuff to do right now, and I’m going to like my new job, and I haven’t danced in over eight years and I’m not planning on starting again.”

“Why not?” Nico asked again, and this time she had a more serious look in her eyes. Still, Eli wasn’t about to open up to someone she had just met, new friend or not.

“It’s complicated,” Eli said, and met Nico’s suspicious look with a firm one.

“Well, fine,” Nico decided after a moment. “But you’ll still come with me to meet Maki, right? I told her I was bringing you over, and she’ll make fun of me if I don’t.”

“I suppose that’s fine, just meeting her…” Even as Eli said it, she had a nagging feeling that she should be saying no. The more distance she put between herself and dance, the better, and this was getting to close for comfort.

“Awesome!” Nico jumped out of her chair, full of energy. “Let’s get going then!”

Eli shook her head helplessly and followed Nico out the door. What had she gotten herself into?

“So, our group,” Nico started, leading the way down the street. She grabbed Eli’s hand as they walked, and Eli almost jumped at the contact. Nico didn’t seem to notice. “Right now, we’re thinking of calling our group BiBi. It doesn’t really mean anything, but it sounds pretty cool, right? We’ve got that one song I mentioned mostly done, and I’m writing lyrics for a second one. Maki’s the musician, except she only plays piano, and who’s ever heard of a classical music idol song? No one, that’s who, so I’ve been helping her play around with some fancy music software. It sounded pretty terrible at first, but I think we’ve finally gotten somewhere! And of course, dancing is easy. Maki could use a little more enthusiasm though. She’s kinda bland sometimes.”

“Uh huh,” Eli said, still distracted by Nico’s hand. Was this what friends in Japan did? Hold hands as they walked down the street? She had so much more to learn than she thought. Normally she’d be bothered by it, but… it was kind of nice, actually. For some reason, it made her think of Nozomi. Is this what Nozomi would do, when they finally met up? Eli still felt a pang of regret for her inaction. Next letter, for sure, she would ask.

Nico didn’t let go of Eli’s hand until they reached their destination. She led the way through the building, past classrooms filled with tired looking students. It was Maki’s university, Nico explained. She had gotten permission from the school to use the auditorium for a couple hours every few days, which was much nicer than Nico’s cramped apartment.

“Sounds like she’s already here,” Nico said, hearing the faint music floating down the hallway. They found her at the base of the stage, completely at home on the grand piano, playing like the rest of the world didn’t exist. They listened quietly, Nico with impatience and Eli with awe at the beauty of it. Maki hit the last few notes with a lingering sadness for the end of the song, and the music faded away. She ran her fingers silently over the key before turning around.

“You’re late,” Maki said, throwing Nico an annoyed look before turning to Eli. “And you’re the new member Nico is dragging into this mess?”

“Yes. I mean, no, I’m not joining your group, I just came because Nico wanted me to meet you, or something…” Eli paused, glancing between Nico’s smirk and Maki’s disinterested look. “I’m Ayase Eli, by the way. Your piano playing is marvelous.”

Maki’s whole expression changed at the compliment, mouth dropping open and eyes widening. She forced her surprise into a frown, but she couldn’t hide her red cheeks. She coughed, turning away and playing with a lock of hair. “Er, thanks. I’m Nishikino Maki.”

Nico laughed. “Oh, man, this is going to be fun. Hey, Maki! Why don’t we show Eli our song? Give her a taste of the idol world!”

“Do we have to? I’d rather do singing warm ups first.”

“That’s boring, I don’t want to. Oh, yeah, speaking of boring things – you find a producer yet?”

“How is that boring? We can’t do anything without a producer. And yes, I think so. My friend says she knows someone.”

“Your giiiiiiiiiiiiirlfriend, you mean?”

Maki turned truly red at that, standing up and stomping her foot. “She’s not my girlfriend, stop saying that!”

Nico practically cackled at that, and even Eli wanted to laugh at the childish display, though she hid her smile behind her hand.

“Anyways!” Nico said, setting up the speakers she pulled out of her bag, “let’s do that song.”

“Fine,” Maki growled, “but just one run through. Then we’re doing warm ups.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.” Nico hopped on stage and gave Eli a bright smile. “Here’s the deal, okay? You said you’re not going to dance again, and that’s fine. I’ll respect that. But you didn’t say that you didn’t want to dance again, so I’m guessing that, maybe, deep down, you actually want to keep going. I could be wrong! But if you truly don’t want to dance again – prove it. If you watch us dance, and you don’t feel any urge to join us, then I won’t bug you about it anymore. But if you do feel that urge, if I see you tapping your foot or singing along – you have to join us. Got it?”

The speech was the last thing Eli expected. She would have to join them? If she showed any enjoyment in their performance, she would have to join them? There was a heat growing in her chest, and as she pushed through her shock, Eli realized she was angry. She’d met Nico three days ago; this was their second interaction; how dare Nico try and control her life?  What gave her the right? Eli had quit ballet because she was a failure, through and through, and that was never going to change. She would never be good at dancing. She would never get better. That’s the way it was, and as much as it hurt, it would hurt even more to pretend there was hope. Did she want to keep dancing? Of course she did. Of course. There was nothing she wanted more in the world, and Nico was treating it like a joke. Like Eli was hiding that desire away because she was scared. Like her soul could be bargained with.

Eli glared at Nico, fists clenched, fury burning in her blue eyes – but Nico didn’t back down. And for some reason, once again, Eli thought of Nozomi:

Maybe I’ve already fallen. Maybe I’ve caught myself on a ledge, unable to move, and there’s a hand reaching out to me from above… Surely the reward must be greater than the risk.

Surely the reward…

Have you ever felt this way?

The anger drained out of Eli.

Nico groaned and slid off the couch. She dragged herself across the carpet to where Eli was sitting and draped herself over Eli's back. She smelled sweet, like strawberries - was she stealing Nico's soap again? No, it was more likely the half-awake Eli from the morning had simply been too out of it to notice. Maybe Nico should start hiding her stuff better.

"What work are you even doing?"

"Taxes."

"Taxes? Seriously? You're spending your Sunday doing the most boring work possible!"

"Nonsense. Taxes are fun."

"Eli, you're the most boring person in the world."

Nico could see a hint of a smile on Eli's face, even as Eli shrugged her off. Nico let out a puff of air, sprawling out on the ground. "I can't believe this. My nice Sunday afternoon, ruined because my girlfriend won't cuddle with me. This is a tragedy. A crime. You're going to go to jail, Eli. The police are going to show up any second now and throw you in jail. Gay jail. Because you need to become gayer and cuddle with me."

"Wouldn't gay jail be for people who were too gay?"

"Now you're going to obnoxious gay jail, too. Are you happy, Eli. Are you. This is going on your permanent record. Everyone's gonna know you're too much of a workaholic to cuddle with your girlfriend. How dare you. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

“You know, Nicocchi, you do have two girlfriends,” Nozomi said. She was leaning against the doorway, eyes twinkling with laughter.

Nico raised her head and shot Nozomi a glare. “No one asked you.”

“Oh? And what are you going to do to me, hmm? Throw me in gay jail too?”

“No. You’re too powerful for gay jail. You have to go to super annoying gay jail instead.”

“You’re being pretty rude to someone who came all the way over here to cuddle with you.”

“I don’t have to be nice to you. You’ll cuddle with me even when I don’t want to.”

“Ah, are you admitting that sometimes you don’t want to cuddle with your girlfriend? Unbelievable, Nicocchi. You might just have to be sent to gay jail for this.”

Nico renewed the strength of her glare. “I’m too good for gay jail.”

“You’re right. I think gay baby jail is more your style, don’t you?” Nozomi flopped down between Nico and Eli, wrapping her arms around Nico and nuzzling her neck.

“Ugh, gross. You smell like dish soap.”

“You smell like someone who complains too much.”

“Of course! I only accept perfection.”

“You’re perfect enough for me, Nicocchi.” Nozomi planted a loud, wet kiss on Nico’s cheek. Nico grimaced, grabbing Nozomi’s pudgy cheeks and stretching them in retaliation. Nozomi only laughed.

There was a loud sigh from Eli, who finally set down her pencil. “You two make it really hard to concentrate, you know.” She leaned back against Nozomi, who welcomed her with a grin and a one-armed embrace.

“I couldn’t imagine why, Elichi.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Nico grumbled. “You’ll cuddle with Nozomi, but not with me? You’re getting extra time in gay jail for that, Eli.” Nico freed herself just enough to poke Eli in the cheek and steal her reading glasses. Eli crinkled her nose in response and Nico kissed the tip of it. “What’s more fun now, huh? Taxes or cuddling?”

Eli didn’t try to hide her smile. “I haven’t decided yet. I think I need more cuddling first.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place, Eli.”

“Gay jail?”

“You- you can’t just break it free!” Eli protested. She stepped out from under the trees and the girl rose to meet her. She was short, barely taller than the sword itself; black pigtails were tied up with ribbons as red as her eyes that were as red as rubies. She scowled at Eli.

“And why not?”

“It’s stealing!”

“It’s not stealing. If no one owns it, then it’s free to take. And if someone was dumb enough to leave it like this in the first place, then frankly they deserve to have it stolen!”

“It’s property of the Queen! She sends knights out every year to find it, and only the Chosen One can free it and return it.”

“Wait, wait-” The girl laughed, grinning like a cat who’d just caught dinner. “Are you telling me that you think you’re the Chosen One? Oh man, this good!”

“And why not?” Eli fired back. “I’m more likely to be the Chosen One than you, you who wants to steal it! Besides, the Oracle told me I’d be the one to pull it out of the stone.”

“The Oracle? Really? You mean that purple-haired lady who sleeps in a cave all day and stares at stars? I feel a bit sorry for you, so I’ll give you a piece of advice: never trust a word she says. I should know – I got stuck growing up with her. And besides, if only the Chosen One could free this sword, then could I do this?”

The girl huffed as she picked up a heavy sledgehammer, swinging it over her shoulder before slamming it down on the chisel stuck in the rock. Eli held her breath as the impact rang out through the clearing. There was no way this would work, it couldn’t be possible, it wouldn’t be fair—

The rock shuddered. A web of cracks spiraled out from the chisel, and the rock broke in two. The sword stood upright for a moment, balanced on the tip, blade practically glowing with its freedom, and the girl wasted no time in grabbing it.

“Well,” she said, wrapping a leather bag around the sharp edges and holding it to her chest. “See ya.”

Eli was left alone in the clearing, mouth hanging open. She couldn’t make sense of it. The last month she’d spent wandering through this forest, searching and searching for the sword, and it had been whisked away from right in front of her. What was she going to tell the Queen?

“Oh gods, the Queen!” Eli jumped into motion, sprinting across the clearing and after the girl. “Wait! Wait!”

It didn’t take long to catch up. She darted in front of the girl to stop her, hands out in a pleading gesture. The girl gave her an irritated look.

“What now?”

“What are you going to do with that sword?”

“None of your business.”

“Do you want money? I can give you money!”

“Nah.”

“What about, what about – oh, how about a better sword! You can’t fight with that one, it’s too big, but I could get you another one! I’ll even teach you how to fight!”

“Pass.”

“Well…. If you come to the city with me, you can meet the Queen! You can see the palace, and take part of the big ceremony, and even become a knight if you want!”

That made the girl pause. Eli watched her, breaths coming short and quick, trying to control the panic running through her. The girl was nodding to herself, looking thoughtfully out into the distance.

“Yeah, alright.”

“Really?”

“I said yes, didn’t I? Besides, I was heading to the castle anyways.” The girl set off again, pushing through the trees. Eli stared after her, shifting her weight from foot to foot until the girl finally looked back. “What?”

“Um. The castle is the other direction.”

The girl’s face colored. “I knew that. I was just testing you.” She marched off in the direction Eli was pointing and Eli hurried to catch up with her.

“So. Ah. My name’s Eli?”

“Nico.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Nico! Do you… do you want me to hold the sword for you? Just, ‘cause, it looks a little awkward, since it’s so big, so…”

“Hah! No way. Don’t think I’ll fall for you little tricks. I’ll give you the sword and you’ll run off with it. I know your types.”

“I wouldn’t have…” Eli trailed off, unsure if she believed her own words. They fell into an uneasy silence, Eli always a few steps behind. Nico walked with determination and confidence, as if it was every day she cheated a century old enchantment. Somehow Eli wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.

Really, what was she going to do? Twenty knights had been sent out to search for the sword. None were expected to bring it back. Many of the knights wouldn’t come back themselves, either killed by a monster or having run away in shame. Eli had sworn never to do something like that. She wasn’t going to fail. Ever since she was a child, her dreams had been filled with images of the sword, and she had always known that she would be the one to bring it back. Eli had never expected it to be like this.

What would the Queen say? Would she really accept Nico into the ranks of knighthood, despite no formal training? There was no way that would work. Knights had to be a beacon of virtue. A group of elite people the citizens could look up to and trust. Nico was a thief, through and through. She didn’t deserve the status of a knight. She didn’t deserve the rewards and praise she would receive for bringing the sword. She didn’t deserve everything Eli had strived towards for the last twenty years.

There was only way one around it: Somehow, Eli needed to get her hands on that sword.

It was a three day walk to the castle, assuming they didn’t run into any trouble. Eli didn’t expect much. This close to the city, the forest was regularly patrolled to thin down the packs of monsters roaming through the trees. She’d spent years of her life doing that job, and she knew the forest like she knew the back of her hand.

Walking with Nico made it feel like it was the first time she’d stepped beneath the trees.

“And that tree over there,” Nico said, chattering her way through her fifth story of the hour, “that’s where I tried to fly once. I got some dumb enchantment from a girl that was supposed to make me weightless for an hour. It didn’t work, obviously, but I jumped off that branch up there. Barely saved myself, too! Grabbed onto that other branch, see it? No, farther right- I caught that with my amazing skill! Impressive, isn’t it?”

Eli hummed in agreement, head tilted back to find the branches Nico was talking about. After a moment of searching she found a long, thick branch, stretching out from the base of trunk a good thirty feet in the air. It would be the perfect place for a monster to swoop down from. Or for a girl to attempt the same thing.

Nico continued talking as they traversed a small river, hopping from rock to rock. She had started her stories an hour into their walk, and hadn’t stopped since. Eli wasn’t sure if it was due to boredom or the love of her own voice. A dozen stories in and Eli realized she was enjoying the conversation, as one-sided as it was. A hundred stories after that and Eli wasn’t so thrilled.

“So I went up to Nozomi – the Oracle, I mean. Nozomi’s her real name, but don’t tell her I told you that, or she’ll beat me up – I went up to her said, I got this advice from a gardener living in the village over, and she said, Oh, the one with the red hat? You shouldn’t trust that one. And I said, I know! Because I was talking to this other person, who-“

“Nico, do you know every person in this forest?”

“Well, duh! I’ve only lived here my whole life.”

“I’ve lived in the city my entire life and I don’t know everyone.”

“That’s not a surprise, Eli. If you want to know people you have to talk to them, and you’ve barely said a word this whole time!”

“I can’t! You won’t stop talking yourself!”

“Pshh, like that’s a bad thing.” Nico waved her hand dismissively and turned around to face Eli. She kept walking backwards, somehow not tripping over anything. “Alright, your turn. Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know! That’s not my job.”

Eli sighed. Why had she ever opened her mouth? “Fine, fine… I used to make jewelry.”

“That’s not a story.”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Eli shot an angry look at Nico’s grin before continuing. “I’m not from around here. My sister and I were born farther north, but when we were young our parents brought us here to visit our grandmother. Then they just… disappeared, left without us. So it was just me, my sister, and our grandmother, and my grandmother is too old to work. So I made jewelry. I made everything, necklaces and bracelets and earrings, and would spend the day selling them in the richer neighborhoods. Sometimes I did well, sometimes I sold nothing an entire week.

“And then I ran into the Queen. She was still the Princess back then, just a couple years younger than me, and I didn’t know she was royalty. She had escaped from her advisors, something that’s still a regular occurrence to this day, and had gotten lost in the city. I hadn’t sold anything that day. I was tired and frustrated and hungry, and then this rich kid with her pretty white dress came running up to me, and I’ll be honest when saying I was rather rude to her.”

“I’m shocked, Eli, truly shocked. What a twist.”

“Anyway, the Princess didn’t care. Somehow she convinced me to show her the way to the castle, and then she took me inside the castle, and I was too in awe of everything to realize we were heading to the throne room. The Queen didn’t seem mad that her daughter had run away. She must have been used to it, I suppose. She asked me a couple questions, bought one of my necklaces, and then sent me on my way. I thought that would be the end of it. It didn’t need to be more! The Queen had liked my work, and that was enough to satisfy me for a lifetime.

“But the Princess kept coming back. She would wander around with me during the day and help me sell my wares, and I always seemed to do better when she was there. It was her idea that I should become a knight, actually. I wasn’t fond of the idea. I might not seem like it, but I’m not a fighter, really. There’s so many things I’d rather do. But… being a knight pays well. Most importantly, it’s secure. If I became a knight, my sister and grandmother would never have to go hungry again. So I accepted. And here I am.”

It was more than Eli had planned on saying. Nico took a moment to respond, kicking the dirt as she mulled over the story.

“I have three younger siblings,” Nico finally said. “They’re staying with Nozomi right now while I do my thing in the forest, scrounging up some money to last us through the next month. I would do anything for them. Anything. Even become a thief.”

They made camp when it became too dark to see the ground in front of them. Nico was adept at creating fires, Eli learned, and soon the flames were roaring. That alone would be enough to keep the monsters at bay, but Eli volunteered to take first watch all the same. Nico shrugged, yawned, and then was fast asleep seconds later. She didn’t seem to have a problem at all with her bumpy bed, and Eli wondered if Nico had ever slept in a real one. She knew there were people living in the forest, sometimes in large groups and sometimes on their own, but she’d never run into any before. That was the way they liked it.

What was life like, outside the castle walls? It was something Eli had never experienced, and something she couldn’t imagine. It didn’t matter, she told herself. She was a knight now. She was safe. She didn’t have to worry about surviving each and every day, and she shouldn’t worry about Nico. She couldn’t, if she was to complete her quest. Eli stayed up almost the entire night, watching and waiting, but it was no good. Nico clung to the sword in her sleep, and Eli couldn’t take it from her.

Nico was full of energy the next morning, practically skipping through the forest. Eli followed her groggily, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

“How are you so awake?”

“Maybe ‘cause I actually slept, like a normal person?”

Eli only grumbled a response. She’d never slept well out in the open, and she didn’t think she ever would. It was too dark and full of unknown dangers.

“Think I would make a good knight?” Nico asked a while later, twirling the sword idly. “I got the gear for it, now!”

“You’d need better gear than that. I told you already that sword is too big.”

“What’s the point in being a knight if you don’t have a big sword? But fine, let’s say I have a normal one. What then?”

“I think you have the determination and motivation to go through with it. I don’t think you have the physical strength or the ability to listen to your superiors. You’d be kicked out of the academy within a month.”

“A month, huh? I’ll take it. Last school I went to kicked me out after a week. Guess I can’t blame them though, I did nearly burn the place down.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this story.”

“Come on, it’s great! See, I was in math class, and-”

There was a rustling in the bushes, and the two of them froze. It was the sound of something large, with more feet than necessary, and at this time of day it was likely to be hungry. Eli raised a finger to her lips. Her bow was instantly in her hands, arrow at the ready. She crept silently through the trees, Nico a step behind her, until they spotted the monster.

It was roughly human shaped, aside from the third leg and the horns growing from its head. It had a snout like a dog, though Eli knew its sense of smell was likely abysmal, and an eye centered below its neck. Splotchy grey hide covered its body.

“If my arrow doesn’t go through its skin,” Eli whispered to Nico, taking aim, “get ready to dodge its charge.”

The arrow flew true, lodging in the side of the monster’s neck, and the monster raised a six-fingered hand and pulled it out. It looked at them, the eye on its chest blinking slowly, and then its snout opened into a toothy grin.

“Time to dodge?” Nico asked.

“Time to dodge.”

The monster sprinted at them, its three legs pounding the ground in an unsettling rhythm, and Nico and Eli bolted in opposite directions. Eli ran through the trees easily, weaving around the trunks and ducking under the monster’s swings. It was good it had come after her; she trusted Nico to have some experience fighting monsters, but Eli had trained for years for this, and it would take only moments to bring it down. All she needed was a clear shot for another arrow, and this time she’d hit the monster dead in the eye.

Eli rounded another tree, spinning around and taking quick steps backwards, bow raised. Two sets of footsteps crashed through the forest around her, one set heavy and one set light. The monster broke through a tree, wood splintering with a loud crack, and sprinted for Eli. Nico got there first.

“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIYAAAAAA!” Nico screamed her battle cry and charged forward, head down and sword held out like a lance. She hit the monster dead center, the blade piercing the leathery skin and sinking deep. Nico grinned, triumph running through her. “Pretty good for a non-knight, I’d say!”

“Nico, this isn’t time to brag-”

“This is the perfect time to brag! I’m the best knight in the… world……?” Nico pulled at the sword, trying to free it for another swing, but it wouldn’t budge. It took her a moment to realize what had happened, to comprehend that the monster had been turned to stone. Its arms were mid-swing, mouth frozen in a snarl, but it wasn’t moving anytime soon. Nico was frowning at it, wondering just what kind of sword she had stolen, when Eli called out, “Medusa!”

“Eli, no!”

“Ah!”

Nico tackled Eli to the ground, covering her eyes with her hands and squeezing her own shut. “Don’t look, you’ll get turned to stone!”

“Don’t be an idiot,” a voice said from behind them. “I wouldn’t turn a stranger into stone.”

“I didn’t say you’d do it on purpose,” Nico shot back, turning around to glare at the girl who’d spoken. “I was trying to protect her from your ugliness.”

“Why you little-” The girl took a step forward, eyes flashing, and Eli decided to intervene before things took a turn for the worse.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down.” Eli pushed Nico to the ground and stood, extending a hand to the girl. Her hair was a bright poppy-red and not snake-like at all, she realized after getting a closer look. “Sorry, I see I spoke too soon. You came right when the monster turned to stone, so I assumed it was your doing, but it must have been the sword.”

“No, that was me,” the girl said after a moment, taking Eli’s hand. “I only petrify people who annoy me.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, Maki’s a special class of medusas,” Nico said. She rolled to her feet and dusted herself off, heading back to the sword and monster statue. “Or so she says. I think she’s just bad at turning people to stone and made up an excuse ‘cause she’s embarrassed.”

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“Then why haven’t you turned me to stone yet, huh? Or have I not annoyed you enough?”

“Well, that’s because…”

“Because you liiiiiiiike me?”

“No! Because-”

“Nico, stop antagonizing her.” Eli stepped between the two of them before it could come to blows. Not that she thought it would; Nico was still staring at the sword, barely paying attention to Maki. She wrapped her hands around the hilt, placed a foot on the side of the monster, grit her teeth, and pulled.

The sword didn’t budge. Nico tried again, both feet on the stone now as she pulled with all her might. Eli and Maki stood side by side, arms crossed and expressions of faint amusement on their faces. Finally Nico gave up, collapsing on the ground and huffing and puffing. Eli rolled her eyes.

“You’re so dramatic.” She stepped up to the sword, grasping it with one hand and smoothly pulling it out. The stone monster crumbled into pebbles. “Nothing to it.”

“Hey, no fair! That’s my sword, you can’t take it!”

“It’s mine now.” Eli slid it into the sheath tied to her waist, nodded at Maki, and headed off into the forest. Nico scrambled to her feet and chased after her.

“Eli! Eli, wait! You can’t- you can’t just leave!”

“Any why not?” Eli asked, turning to face Nico. “My duty is to bring the sword to the Queen. There’s no reason for you to be there.”

“But, but…” There were a thousand emotions spiraling in Nico’s eyes, and Eli was struck by how lost she looked. Nico swallowed hard and stared at the ground, clenched fists trembling. “I just wanted to see the palace,” she whispered. Then the moment passed, and she brought her fiery gaze back to Eli. “Fine then! I’ll make my own way. I don’t need you either!”

Nico spun around and sprinted through the trees. Eli watched her go, unable to move. This was what she had to do, this was the only option – so why did she feel like crying?

No, she was a knight. Knights didn’t cry. Eli took a deep breath and turned away from Nico’s disappearing figure. It was time to meet the Queen.

The day seemed never ending. Eli walked and walked, lost in her thoughts. Every so often she’d start to speak – there was an interesting bird over there, perhaps there was a river nearby – and she’d stop herself three words in, realizing no one was there to listen. Dusk fell, masking the world in shadows, and Eli walked on. When she finally slept it was close to dawn, and she didn’t feel any better for the distance she had covered.

In her dreams, she relived the fight. The monster jumping from the bushes, her arrows poised to fire; and then she was Nico, grasping the huge sword with all her might and charging recklessly forward. There was elation as the blade went in, confusion when it didn’t pull out.

“Medusa!” her own voice cried out, and Nico turned – turned towards her, towards her, and Eli kept seeing it through Nico’s eyes over and over until she saw what she was missing. Nico had turned towards her, and in doing so she had turned away from Maki. There was true panic in Nico’s tackle, for she hadn’t known of Maki’s existence yet, had only trusted Eli’s call and acted in desperation, in haste, in –

Eli woke up crying.

She was walking before daylight returned to the forest floor. The city came into view by mid-day, and Eli strode through the gates. Her metal boots rang out against the cobblestone streets, and people came out of their houses to watch her pass. They saw the sword at her hip and whispered amongst themselves, and by the time she was halfway to the palace a procession had formed behind her.

Eli took a deep, calming breath. This was what she had been waiting for. This was the moment her whole life had led to. So what if there had been troubles and regrets along the way? That was what a quest was for, and someday she’d tell the story, the real story, gladly. She brushed away the lingering cobwebs of her sorrow and smiled at the crowd around her, lifting a hand in a wave.

“…the knight’s returned!”

“Do you think she…”

“She must, look at her!”

“Welcome back, knight!”

Eli nodded to the people calling out to her, neither confirming nor denying the whispered speculation surrounding her. They’d find out soon enough. It was telling that she was walking with her head high and not sneaking in the back way; that alone was a story of success.

The guards greeted her with a salute, stepping aside to let her into the castle. The parade behind her was halted at the gates, and there they waited, calling out to her even as the doors closed behind her. Inside the castle was quiet, her footsteps echoing off the stone the only sound. Eli ran her hand along the sheath, reminding herself the sword was really there.

Heavy wooden doors marked the entrance to the throne room. Patterns were carved into them, grooves worn smooth by time. Eli pushed the doors open and stepped inside. The queen was waiting on her throne, as if she had known Eli was about to arrive. Eli knelt at the foot of stairs.

“Eli! You’ve returned!” The queen jumped out of her seat, grinning wide. The crown was crooked on her bright orange hair, as it usually was, and Eli felt relief that at least one thing hadn’t changed.

“I have, my Queen. And I brought the sword with me.”

“The sword! Really? You pulled it out the stone?”

Eli hesitated. She had pulled out of a stone, yes, but it wasn’t the stone. Yet it was close enough, wasn’t it? She nodded her assent. She was here now, and there was no reason to bring in complications.

“That’s wonderful!” The Queen clapped her hands in delight. “You’re the only person in a century who’s been able to pull it out, you know! You’re a legend now!”

How long would the sword have lasted if someone else had thought of taking a sledgehammer to the rock? Surely they had sledgehammers a hundred years ago. There must have been someone else before Nico- No. Nico was gone, and it was Eli’s fault, and she had to stop thinking about her.

The ceremony took place the next day at noon, when the sun was shining high in the sky. Eli had spent the night pacing in her room and looked out at the crowd with tired circles under her eyes. It felt like the entire city had shown up to watch, filling the castle fairgrounds and spilling into the streets beyond. Eli scanned the crowd, unsure of what she was searching for.

She and the Queen stood before the people on a stone dais, colorful banners lining the edges and flapping in the wind. Fluffy clouds meandered across the blue skies, casting shadows that rolled across the land. Trumpets sounded. The Queen stepped forward, arms outstretched to greet the people.

“Good citizens! I am here today to celebrate a wondrous, unprecedented event! Here before you is Knight Eli, the first knight to return from the sacred quest to find the Sword in the Stone; and the first one to return successful.”

The crowd roared. For all the time Eli had spent dreaming of this moment, she could not force herself to pay attention. Her gaze drifted among the people again. In the middle of the crowd, standing with a smile on her face, Eli thought she saw the Oracle. It wouldn’t be a surprise; everyone knew the Oracle showed up when you least expected her. Eli caught her eyes and gave the barest hint of a nod. When she looked back a moment later the Oracle was gone.

“… never been more proud of my knights. I know it has taken years of dedication and training to reach this momentous occasion…”

A splash of red caught Eli’s attention. She stared at the far away figure until the wind gusted again and she saw it was nothing more than a colorful hat. She was starting to wonder if the whole adventure was a dream. That would make more sense. Who would take a sledgehammer to a magic rock? No one, that’s who. Eli had spent a long time wandering the forest alone, and her dreams had gotten away from her.

“And now,” the Queen said, voice booming, “I present to you, the Sword from the Stone!”

A page, dressed in a fanciful outfit for the occasion, stepped to the Queen’s side. She was holding a long, velvet pillow, and on top rested the sword. It was beautiful in the sunlight. The blade was polished and the gold hilt sparkled with inlaid sapphires and rubies. The Queen took it with gentle hands, and Eli moved to kneel in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, as she was bowing her head, she thought she saw a pair of black pigtails in the crowd – but she pushed the thought away as soon as it came.

“Our Knight Eli has been with us for several years, and she proven time and time again her passion for what is right, her strength and determination, and the kindness she shows to everyone she meets. It is of no surprise to me that of all my knights, Eli was the one to return with the sword. Today, we honor her. Today, we make her a legend. Today, we- ah!”

The wind tore through the crowd and ripped the sword from the Queen’s hands. It flew high into the air, tumbling over and over, shining like a star. It hung at the top of its arc, perfectly framed against the blue sky, and then it fell. It fell blade down, sliced through the stone dais like butter, buried itself to the hilt, and there it stayed, once again the Sword in the Stone.

The crowd froze. There wasn’t a whisper of sound in the whole city, and even the wind had died down now that its job was done. Eli and the Queen stared at each other, panic in their eyes. How had this quest gone so horribly wrong? This must be punishment for something. She was never the Chosen One in the first place, she had never deserved to free the sword, and now the world was punishing her.

The Queen took a shaky breath. “One last trial,” she said, then repeated it again when her voice wouldn’t come. “One more time, Eli must pull the sword from the stone. “

“And what if she can’t?” a voice cried out from the crowd.

“What if she lied?”

“Maybe this isn’t the real sword at all!”

“Maybe she stole it from the real Chosen One!”

Eli’s fears were echoing around her, and it took all her strength not to flee.

“Don’t be an idiot!” another voice called out. It was a strong, defiant voice, and it was so familiar it made Eli’s heart ache. “You ever met her? If she stole it from someone else, it was because that person was being an ass and didn’t deserve the sword!”

In the lull the words caused, the Queen regained control of the situation. “Everyone, please! There is no cause for concern. Eli, would you?”

The crowd fell silent again, but it was an uneasy silence, discontentment rolling through the people like waves. Eli stared at the sword. Slowly, she rose to her feet, and rested her fingertips on the top of the hilt. This was it. This was her chance to make her dreams come true.

“Nico!” Eli’s voice rang out strong, echoing across the grounds. This time when she looked out she was met with ruby red eyes, and she held that gaze lest she lose it forever. “I understand everyone’s fears,” she continued, gentler this time. “I am the Chosen One. I know that. I’ve known that my entire life. I can feel the power in this sword, and I know I can free it.

“But I’m not the only one. In my travels, I met a girl named Nico. She is the one who freed the sword from the stone. When it became trapped a second time, I was the one to pull it out. I claimed the sword then, for I was the one on the quest, and I wasn’t going to return empty handed. But that wasn’t fair of me. That wasn’t fair to her.”

Eli paused, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She couldn’t see the Queen’s reaction, didn’t listen for the murmurs in the crowd; none of that mattered more than the desperate hope in Nico’s eyes.

“Nico, please… Help me pull the sword free.”

The seconds stretched into years. Eli’s heart refused to beat. But finally, finally, Nico stepped out from the crowd. She walked up to the dais, each step more confident than the last. Then she was standing in front of Eli, their eyes still locked together, and she broke the spell with a heavy sigh.

“You’re just useless without me, aren’t you?” Nico asked, not bothering to hide her grin. She placed her hand on top of Eli’s. Her hand was smaller than Eli’s own, but warm. So warm Eli wondered if Nico was more nervous than she was letting on.

“I’m sorry,” Eli whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear.

“I know.”