#temporal shift

The station port creaked open, swinging in to reveal the deep expanse laid out before them. She stepped forward, trusting the heavy boots to hold her steady. There was no hesitation, the feeling of weight settled at her feet, the smell of stale, cycled air familiar.

Comforting.

She glanced back at her companion, watching as they took fearful steps forward, hesitating to lift and step. She laughed, stepping back to offer a hand. The other accepted, grip tight even between the stiff rubber gloves of their suits.

“So-o-o-o-o,” she began, breathless, never letting go of her hand, “how often do you do this?”

She shrugged, glancing back and meeting sapphire eyes. She flushed, nervous laughter tumbling out. “Oh, three or four times a week. Mostly when everyone is asleep.”

“I see,” the other hummed, grip tightening on her hand as they stopped walking.

“Louise,” she watched her jump, a smirk spreading, “is this your first space walk?”

She didn’t need much beyond the immediate silence, the way the taller tried to duck her head and hide.

“You were supposed to do ten hours our first week here!”

“I know, I know-!”

“Shock, scandal, utter betrayal!”

“Please don’t tell-!”

She waved a hand, cutting off Louise’s plea, “Your secret’s safe with me. So, let’s go.”

Louise paused, cocking her head. “Go where? What?”

She grinned, raising her hand to point at the stars. “Let’s go free float for a bit, c’mon.”

She smiled sheepishly, taking a step away from her. “You go ahead, Persephone. I’ll get there just… Not tonight.”

They shared a smile, though looked away when they felt each had stared a moment too long.

“Suit yourself,” she said, deactivating her boots. The sensation took her slowly, creeping upwards. She felt a tug, and realized her and Louise had never let go of each other. She twisted to face her, floating just barely above her. Louise reach her other hand out, which she easily took, their helmets gently knocking against each other.

Even as she was floating in space, she could have never felt so light, so free. She gave a giddy giggle, memorizing the pattern of her freckles, the way one eye looked greener than the other.

“Go on,” Louise breathed, “float with the rest of the stars.”

She could only nod, letting go, turning to face the vast expanse. Wolf 359 glowing, bright, shimmering. There was a crackle of music, her cassette playing through the comms. The only song that felt like home.

“So-o-o… What did we learn, Persephone?” he purred, creeping into the corner of her vision. She stood on her ship, never breaking eyes with the twirling ball of fire.

“You just… Had to ruin the moment, didn’t you, Duke?”

His suit was too finely pressed, the whites sharp enough to kill. He was difficult to look at, his voice really the only clue to who he was. He hummed, “Sorry. Just the way it goes, sometimes.”

She nodded, fists clenching. Let her chest expand, meeting eyes with her star. Fiery, bright, blinding.

“You know you can’t stay here…”

“I know,” she answered, firmly, “I just… Needed to remind myself of something. To see… To see her again.”

“But, humor me here, why this moment? Why here?”

“Maybe because… She was the real star. Because I knew, for sure, here. How much I would do for her.”

He was silent this time, watching as her star, out of focus and blurred, suddenly came into focus, stark and clear. Warping into a deep blue.

“It’s almost time,” he sing-songed, voice grating, tearing her further away from her moment, her precious memory.

“Was any of this real,” she suddenly asked, “Was this… Really mine? Or was this the story I was told so I’d think I-?”

“A question with an answer only you can determine for yourself, Persephone. Ready?”

She sighed, glaring, blurred as her world melted.

“I’m going to mess you-!”

“Clear!” giggled out.

Electricity surged through her, igniting her senses. The entirety of her body washed over her with the shock, washing away as quickly as it came. Another bolt, twice as strong, froze her in a snapshot, memories siphoning into her brain.

Moments of the life she lived.

Young, lips tight, fire in her eyes.

Nose bleeding, fist cocked, army written all over her.

Heart broken, family, friends, all lost, station echoing behind her.

Grim determination, false confidence, curling fear overtaken with frost from cryo.

Ice bathed in flames.

Electricity surged, surged, surged, overloaded her until she was hacking half her lungs out. Her world came to her in puzzle pieces and tsunami waves, understanding far from her mind. Voices called, pressure on her skull that she didn’t know how to process.

“I’d say we’re about… Half way there. After that kids? Training wheels come off.”

***

He locked Machida and Muta separately, hands still shaking as he entered the locking code. He took the long way through the station, working through the damaged and hollow halls until he came back to the medbay.

Persephone slept on the bed, chest rising and falling like it had never stopped. Like a bullet didn’t paint the back wall of the comms room with her grey matter. The shaking returned with fervor, but he sucked in an unsteady breath, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. Let his chest expand.

No time for fear. No time for fear, for revulsion, for outright grief. He packed the feelings away, stored them in a little box out of sight, and set about to look for Haru. He scoured what remained of the ship, bunks, bathrooms, the mess, only to find her in the first place he thought she’d be, and the last place he wanted to find her.

Even with one less full body bag on the floor, the feeling of death weighed the room down heavy, obscuring the beauty of the stars with the cruelty on man. She didn’t look at him, staring out the observation deck window to the blue star haunting their station. He took a seat beside her, studying her face, following the tear tracks, examining the flecks of blood Persephone coughed onto her.

“Haru…” he began, but what do you say? What do you tell someone, when they’ve witnessed the craziest, most miraculous, most insane thing possible and called it their friend? Nothing. You say their name and sit like a fool with nothing to say. God, they needed to send out a better manual.

She turned to look at him, took in his own mess of an appearance, of a life, and turned away. Tried, measured, and found wanting.

“You can say it, you know…” she mumbled, never breaking eyes with the star.

“Say what?”

She laughed, rubbing her eyes as more tears began to build. “That… That all of this is my fault.”

He froze, heart cracking between his ribs. She watched as she started to cry anew, her hands pressing against her face. He packed everything away, his own sadness, his own guilt, his fiery rage at the world that’d make her feel like that. She was the only one that mattered.

“Haru, none of this is your fault!”

“I was the one who found the signal! The one who didn’t want to kill Toto, the one who got stranded and needed a dumb rescue, bringing the others here! It’s my fault she got shot!”

She wouldn’t- couldn’t- stop shaking, warmth and hope draining out her eyes and down to the floor.

“Stop that, stop that right now,” Yuki commanded, her sweet voice furious, echoing in the makeshift morgue. Haru jumped, looking around for the camera Yuki used to see.

“Yuki?” she called out.

“I won’t have my best friend thinking she’s the sole cause of this hell. It was all of us. It was none of us. It was a chain reaction of horrible decisions and the cruelty of monsters disguised as people. None of us could have prevented, or even predicted this. Not even me. It’s wasn’t you, Haru.”

“She’s right,” he jumped in, taking her hands between his, pulling her attention, “None of this is your fault. Persephone… Persephone made her choice. Machida, Muta, Hiromi… Toto… They all made their choices. You are not responsible for the actions of monsters.”

Haru hiccuped, gasping for breath to find an argument between their truths, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Haru, you are the bravest, the smartest, the kindest person I had the joy to meet. A regular, golden-orange sun will shine on us, one day.”

She nodded, and kept nodding, until he pulled her tight against his chest. He reached a hand, pressed it against the wall, hoping to do something to include Yuki in their human matters.

“I’ll get us all home safe,” he promised, “I’ll make Goddard pay for everything.”

She shook her head, pulling away. He saw the fury burning beneath her skin, jaw set in determination, “No, not before I burn them all to the ground.”

He nodded, rubbing his other hand down her back. She leaned back against him, warm and hurt and vulnerable.

“I’ll take care of you, Haru. And you, Yuki,” he said, confused when Haru pulled away again. Her hands found his cheeks, holding him in place, forcing him to look at her.

“Commander Baron, you can’t carry all of this yourself,” Yuki said, worry laced in her words. He sputtered, tried to reel back, prove he was fine, assure them that he could, but Haru stopped him.

“Baron,” she pleaded, soft, gentle, “let yourself grieve. Let it all process- Besides, I know about you and Toto.”

He jerked, glaring at Yuki’s camera accusingly. Her voice came out nervous, but not regretful.

“My duty is to protect my crew. And, according to my code that I had to bend for a loophole, that means spilling secrets to my best friend to keep her heart from breaking.”

“I pressed her for it, Baron,” she told him, tilting her head with a rueful smile. He didn’t like that look, that train of thought that’d keep him from… A wonderful chance, one day.

“Once, in the beginning, Haru. There was something, a wonderful and… Strange something. But that ended a long time ago. Died, when he hurt you and Yuki.”

She gave a shuddering sigh, shoulders sagging. She pulled him down, arms tight around her neck, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, Baron,” she soothed, nervous laughter freezing in his throat. His breath hitched, lost in brown hair, the smell of metal and… That damn seaweed shampoo Toto made. The tears fell, Haru whispering kindly in his ear.