#stellefly

“I am weaving fate precisely because there are countless possibilities.” He closed his eyes with a pained expression. What futures did he see? “However, there are only a few that have the best outcome.” Noticing her perplexed response, he shook his head and changed the topic. “Never mind, you will understand in time. Have you chosen a name?”

A name. She remembered that night before she’d met Kafka, in the forests of a foreign land, a foreign planet. The countless little lights that existed just for that moment before disappearing.

“Firefly.”

2.

“Soooo, play any games?”

Firefly stared at the newest recruit, a girl with gray hair and fingers that were always typing on something. Vaguely, she recalled her name—something with a canine in it. Silver Wolf? She hadn’t expected their latest teammate to accost her the second she’d finished meeting Elio. “Huh?”

“Games?” Silver Wolf rolled her eyes, impatient. She emphasized each word as though she were talking to a toddler. “Do. You. Play. Any?”

Games. Firefly scratched her cheek; did she even know any? “Not really.”

“Boring,” Silver Wolf huffed, disappointed. Just as quickly, she bounced back, all smiles. “Still, I guess that means I can train you.”

“…if there’s time,” Firefly acquiesced. While she had gotten used to the script, she still didn’t fully understand it. How much deviation was allowed?

“There’s plenty of time. Not like you have a mission.” Silver Wolf tugged her arm, continuing without missing a beat. “Well, I guess you might not have that much time, considering you’re gonna die, but before that.”

Did the new girl know of her fate? Did she look at Firefly’s old records? She’d heard of Silver Wolf’s hacking skills, but it was one thing to hear, another to witness. “Do you—” Firefly cut herself off before she could ask. There was a reason she hadn’t asked Elio for a date—some things were better left unknown. It was enough to acknowledge her impending fate without also having to count down to it.

Not noticing her silent lapse, Silver Wolf rattled on. “Besides, you have to write your own script.”

“My own script?” Firefly mused, the idea novel. “But Elio—”

“His script’s for work,” Silver Wolf interrupted with a dismissive wave. “Your script is for you. Not everything’s work, right? Haven’t you heard of bucket lists?”

She cocked her head. “Bucket list?”

“Things to do before you die.” Silver Wolf grinned. “And the top of that list has to be playing games with me.”

3.

Firefly stared at the lined pad of paper on her lap. She’d already written and crossed off one task—play a game. With Silver Wolf’s help, she’d written a few more (most of them involving games in some shape or form), but the rest…that was up to her.

What did she want? What did she need to do before it all ended?

The pen in her hand felt heavy, too heavy, and she couldn’t pick it up. Instead, Firefly glanced at her companion, the brooding Blade, as he sat next to her. They were in the lobby of some company, waiting for their transport. Despite the long delay, he didn’t appear impatient in the least, his expression flat as he stared at a wall.

There were a few things she’d learned about him over the past few months, the main one being this: he had joined in order to die. The exact opposite of her. The one thing she wanted was the one thing he was willing to throw away. “Why?”

The words had slipped out of her mouth unintentionally, but it was too late—Blade had already turned toward her, his empty eyes boring into hers now. “‘Why?’”

She might as well commit. Firefly tightened her grip on her pen, steeling herself. “Why do you want to die?”

He didn’t answer immediately, allowing the silence to settle between them. His dark eyes scanned her, studied her, and she stiffened. Whatever he concluded, he didn’t show, merely turning back to staring at the wall. “Why do you want to live?”

It was a silly question, and she snorted. “There’s so much I want to do.”

At this, he turned back to her, tilting his head to the empty pad on her lap as it contradicted her words.

“That…” She resisted the urge to crumple the paper. “I do. I just…I don’t know where to start. How much I can have. That’s…I’m fine with dying, I expected it, but I don’t want it to mean nothing.”

“I see,” he replied languidly.

“And you?” she prodded when he didn’t answer her question.

“I have already died once. Whether there is meaning or not, it is not for the dead to decide.” Blade lowered his eyes, the briefest flicker of emotion crossing his face. Was it regret? Rage? Or something darker? “And now…”

His voice grew softer, quieter. A nearly inaudible confession. “Sometimes death isn’t a curse but a reward. And sometimes…it is a punishment.”

Firefly had never asked about his past, hadn’t asked any of the others about their desires or history either. While they were all working together for Elio’s goal, they were less comrades than they were acquaintances with a singular connection. Aside from Silver Wolf, none of the others were keen on talking.

Her hand moved, finally writing on the paper. Make friends.

And she’d start with the people she had come to care for. “For what?” Firefly coaxed.

Blade shook his head. “That is a story that doesn’t need to be told. But I will answer your question—why do I want to die? You value life because you can see the end. I value the end because I do not have one.”

4.

If anyplace were a fairytale, Penacony was it. Brilliant sunsets, stunning views, never-ending fun—the place was a dream brought to life. Well, perhaps that was the point since the place was literally a dream. It was hard for reality to match the perfection of the imagination, especially one that had as much time and care put into it as Penacony.

Perhaps it was because of that fairytale that a fluttery feeling filled Firefly whenever she looked at Stelle. She had only known her for a few days now, a thrilling mixture of an adventure flick and a slice of life montage, yet it felt like they had known each other for ages. As though they had always been meant to find each other.

It was hard to focus on anything else: her mission, her plans, even her fears. Right now, as they sat side by side on a terrace, Firefly found herself focusing on the small gap between them, how close their hands were, how she could feel—their eyes met, Stelle catching her, and Firefly averted her gaze, her skin burning.

“This is one of my favourite spots,” she rambled, her words rushing into one another as she tried to distract Stelle.

Fortunately, Stelle didn’t pry. She nodded, propping her chin on her hand as she studied the skyline. “I can see why. It’s pretty…and a little different than other sunsets.”

She’d felt the same, though she didn’t know how to describe it. “How?”

“It’s more…perfect?” Stelle considered her words. “Less real?”

“That’s true, I guess.” Firefly leaned back, staring as the sun slowly dipped into the horizon, as the sky delicately bloomed into shades of pink and purple. “This is a dream. It has all the best parts.”

“Not all.” Stelle shook her head, disagreeing. “We should meet outside. I’ll show you my favourite sunset.”

Outside. Firefly’s heart sank. Here, in the confines of Penacony, she could do anything as herself. The constraints of SAM, of her expiry date, didn't exist. Out there…what would Stelle think of her?

And that wasn’t even going into how she was part of the Stellaron Hunters or how the Nameless weren’t exactly allies with her group.

“I’m a bit…” Firefly started cautiously, carefully picking her words, “Different, outside.”

“Different.” Stelle raised a brow, not following. “You don’t look like this?”

“Sometimes.” Firefly stared at the space between their hands, the few centimeters she could cross so easily in a dream but not in reality. “I have a…sickness. I can’t walk around as much. I get tired more easily. I need support.”

Stelle rubbed her chin, considering it all before shrugging. “That’s fine. I want to meet you and that’s you.”

Firefly flushed, not sure how to respond to that. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, staring at Stelle’s trademark bat instead as she replied, “Then… I guess we could.”

“Great!” Mistaking her stare for interest, Stelle patted her weapon affectionately. “Do you want to try it?”

“No, that’s not what—” Flustered, Firefly raised her hands.

“Don’t be shy.” Stelle grinned. She bounced to her feet and nimbly twirled her bat in her hand. “We passed by some batting cages earlier. It’s a little late today, though…want to meet tomorrow?”

Tomorrow.

The word had never sounded so sweet as it did when Stelle promised it. Tomorrow. Each day was something to look forward to, and her bucket list was filled with new desires from every meeting.

“Yes, please.”

5.

The grand theatre glowed in the distance, its warm light as inviting as a lamp was to a moth. Firefly clenched her hands as she considered what was to come. She’d died once already. She was on her way to die a second time.

And the third…

She didn’t want to think of it.

Next to her, Stelle inspected her bat as she prepared for her fight. Despite all that was to come, her expression was relaxed, her movements unhurried. As though she didn’t have any fears.

Maybe she didn’t.

Due to the script, Firefly was certain Stelle couldn’t die, yet…the script could be wrong. Even worse, Stelle didn’t know about the script at all. Despite that, she moved without an ounce of reluctance. Firefly hesitated before asking, “Aren’t you scared of dying?”

Stelle looked up, her dark eyes serious as she considered the question. Her tone was calm as she confirmed, “A little more each time.”

“What?” That wasn’t the answer she’d expected in the least.

“I don’t think you can’t be afraid of death,” Stelle added.

That only made her answer, her expression more confusing. Firefly furrowed her brow. “Then why are you so calm? Don’t you want to run away?”

“Not really…the first time I fought, I didn’t even know who I was or who I was fighting. I just…did it,” Stelle explained, servicing her bat once more. With a soft cloth, she rubbed it. “The second time, I’d just made friends and couldn’t let them go alone. And now…they’re all family. I can’t let them down.” She lifted her head, locking eyes with Firefly. “I can’t let you down either.”

“Is it really that easy?” Firefly whispered, unable to look away.

“The way I see it, being scared means I have things to lose.” Stelle beamed brightly, standing up now. She rested her bat on her shoulders. “And for someone who had nothing before…that’s a good thing.”

Firefly couldn’t look away. Stelle was radiant, lighting up the path for others.

She was reminded of that night in the forest, of the fireflies in the night. Of the flare in the distance, a guiding light that illuminated everything.

Fleeting, yes, but oh so bright despite it.

6.

Firefly’s heartbeat roared as she and Stelle fell through the sky. The wind rushed past their ears, making it hard to hear anything else. Yet, this was Penacony, and all the forces of nature weren’t enough to prevent her from taking Stelle’s hand midfall or to stop them from talking.

Within a few minutes, they weren’t falling but flying. Firefly couldn’t tell if the giddy feeling filling her was from surviving death once more, flying, or the fact that Stelle’s hand was firmly clasped within her own.

“Did you know a firefly doesn’t live long?” Firefly stated, forcing her companion’s attention away from the clouds and onto her. “Their lives flicker so quickly. Mine…mine will too.” It was hard to say that aloud to Stelle, but she had to. “That’s why I picked my name.”

Stelle pursed her lips, contemplating her words before smiling. “It’s a nice name.”

“Thanks.” Firefly tightened her grip on Stelle’s hand. “But…I don’t think I want to be like a firefly. To flicker in the dark. I want to be like you—like a flare that can guide others.” Her voice softened as she asked, “Do you think I can?”

Stelle’s smile didn’t waver. She shifted in the air until they were facing each other and gently touched their foreheads together. “Of course.”