The inside of the yacht was familiar… almost comforting. Over 30 feet from prow to rudder, it wasn’t exactly small – though she’d been on larger.

  It was appointed well enough, with a serviceable electric kitchen and enough sleeping room they didn’t need to cram in like sardines. Overall, Casca would rate it an 8/10 experience. Definitely better than camping. Could use a different paint job though, the green is just kind of tacky.

  But yeah, it was a good boat. She definitely felt like she should be able to steep here.

  And yet… Nope, not happening. Wide awake. She wasn’t the only one; most of the beds were empty. Puce, Kenny, Tor and his friends, Hoshi… Pretty much the only people actually asleep were Mimi, who was snoring up a storm, and Jessie – who was actually doing the same. Hah. I guess we’re all restless from… stuff.

  So after a minute more of staring at the ceiling, Casca slipped out from under the thin sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. Could’ve gotten shot today. Or just tased and bagged. The thought wasn’t quite numb, but still distinctly emotionless; she wasn’t sure if she was still just processing it, or if she’d actually accepted the danger somewhere along the way and just not realised it. Feels weird. Usually I try to stay out of my own head, but this’s bugging me.

  After a brief moment to consider her jewelry she shook her head; if Mimi swiped it she would just steal it back before they made landfall. Hah, kind of like a game – street tag. Casca stood, grabbed the last of her smokes, and gave one final once-over to the inside of the cabin. Nice furniture. Wonder if they stole it or bought it – they must make bank owning a racetrack so close to the biggest motorway in the country. Then she made for the door.

  The October air kissed her exposed skin as she stepped out into the open, and for a moment she was starstruck – literally. The waters of the Celadon Sea were calm, almost unnaturally calm, and reflecting off the surface were thousands of stars. It was almost impossible to tell where the water ended and the sky began, only a subtle shimmer marking the boundary where the distant capital city put out enough light to reach over the horizon.

  The view hit her unexpectedly hard, catching her breath and holding it for a long second…

  And then the door closed with a click, and the moment ended. Fucking nostalgia, she groused inside her head, feeling her lips curl into a small smile. Gets you when you least expect it. With the spell broken, imperfections made themselves obvious; the railing of the yacht’s deck painting artificial black lines across the scene, the ripples the ship’s motion made distorting the ocean’s mirror, the rest of the light pollution from shore reflecting off the sparse clouds…

  Still pretty, though. It was a nice consolation prize for getting yet another shitty night’s rest. With her lips still curled, Casca made her way to the railing and followed it towards the ship’s back, her fingers tracing the cold metal. The first person she ran into was Bart, having a smoke of his own.

  The man’s hair was actually worn down for once, flowing from his head to the top of his hips in a smooth waterfall of black. It made him look even more feminine than usual; give her a little makeup and a set of breast pads, and Casca was sure she’d be able to make him into a damn fine lady within five minutes. “Can I get a light?” she asked, leaning on the railing.

  He wordlessly flicked a lighter, the bright flame dancing merrily, and as she leaned in to light a cigarette Casca was forced to admit that the cool-guy act was kind of actually cool. If she wasn’t spoken for, she might’ve felt obligated to try and wrestle him away from her street sister – though it would be as much for competition’s sake as actual attraction. But since she was off the market, she refrained from injecting any seductive overtones into the motion as she put the stick of tobacco to her lips and inhaled. “Long day, huh?”

  Bart’s chin tilted in a slow nod. “It was. And I believe there will be a fair number of those in our future, as well.” His voice was, like his face, even softer than usual. Fuck, I can’t believe this guy’s older than me. I wonder if he’s related to James; he’ll probably look twenty until his damn forties. Some people had all the luck.

  The two grunts smoked silently for a few minutes, watching the stars and listening to the faint sounds of water and other people moving around the boat. “I used to have a ride like this,” she eventually commented as the smoldering flame started eating into the cigarette’s butt.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Not as big, but nicer. Used to race around Cerulean with my girlfriends when I was a little kid, seeing who could get the guys to buy us the dumbest thing. One time I got a life-size snorlax plush – the dude had to bring it in on a pallet. You could’ve used it as a bed.”

  Bart huffed out something that wasn’t quite a laugh, and there was a beat of stillness. The stars danced on the water’s surface, jittering and melting into each other. Then that moment, too, ended. “It sounds like a nice place, Cerulean. What made you leave, pray tell?”

  The old-fashioned language caused her to let out her own not-quite-a-laugh, though hers was closer to a snort. “Stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “And things.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “How revealing. I suppose I’m just a prop for you to practise this conversation before bringing it to that Senior Grunt, aren’t I?”

  That made her blink. Huh. “Is it that obvious?”

  Bart took a final drag of his cigarette, then flicked the last of it into the water. “Not quite. But you keep looking at me like you’ve been surprised I’m not someone else – enough repetition, and even a fool becomes wise to a trick.”

  “Hah…” Yeah, I should probably get to it. “Thanks for the talk anyway. You should get some sleep.”

  A raised brow, the ‘I could say the same to you’ left silent, and Casca let her own butt fall into the bay before sliding away.

  But she didn’t find Hoshi just yet. No, the next person she stopped for, after going around a seasick Kenny, was Puce. The large woman sat against the cabin’s wall and watched the still sea, much as Casca had been doing a minute before. She looks better. I guess Hoshi was right; we just needed a cleaner win to help wash out the messy one. But also as Hoshi’d said, better didn’t mean good. “Hey girl,” she said as she approached. “Nice night, yeah? Almost no clouds.”

  Puce hummed affirmatively, her short hair almost colourless in the silvery light of the not-quite-full moon. Again, Casca was content to wait quietly for a time, sitting next to the other woman and watching the stars.

  “…It still feels unreal,” Puce eventually said, her voice clearer than it’d been the past day. “I keep going back and wondering… how much was real? Was any of it fake, right up to the end?” She rubbed at her ear, where the bandages around her head were thickest. “She saved my life.”

  “Did she?” Casca hadn’t been paying all that much attention – or maybe she had been, but the frantic panic of the night had eaten the memories.

  “The ninja woman had her sword to my throat, and Nerine bucked me to the side.” There was a moistness to her eyes, but no tears. “And I just… kept strangling her. I was so angry.” Another silence, shorter than the prior one. “I thought I finally had real friends, and… I guess I didn’t.”

  The urge came to cajole, to tell Puce she was wrong, that they were real friends… but she’d been a hair’s breadth from jumping ship, hadn’t she? Casca would say they were definitely friends, but not good ones – not the kind Puce obviously wanted. So instead she took some of the blame. “I thought she had a crush on my man.”

  The giant blinked. “Huh?”

  “I thought Nerine had a crush on Hoshi. I noticed it the very first day – every time I looked at her, she’d be trying to hide that she’d been looking at him. In hindsight the real reason’s obvious, but…”

  Puce didn’t laugh, the way Casca hoped she would; she only squinted, her expression puzzled. “Oh. That’s why you always got really touchy-feely with him when she was in the room.”

  “Yeah. Dumb, huh?”

  “A little. I thought she was obviously pretty afraid of him…”

  She shrugged. Sometimes fear and fascination are only a half-step away. Also, I was kind of really insecure about having a younger girl around. Absolutely stupid; Hoshi’d never expressed even a hint of interest, but she’d let it cloud her judgment for months anyway. I guess I’m not quite agent material yet, huh? Hah.

  “Uh,” Puce started again, “I don’t think you had anything to worry about? If you’d been right, I mean. You’ve very pretty.”

  From anyone else Casca would’ve considered it faint praise, but Puce wasn’t exactly articulate at the best of times. “Thanks.” Not that it erases the mistake, but… Well, I’ll take the compliment, at least. “Blah, this is a shitty topic to get stuck on.”

  Puce grunted in agreement, fiddling with her sleeves; the blouse she had on didn’t fit very well. It was obviously made for someone with less extreme proportions. “Sorry. I should probably stop thinking about it… Nerine is- is gone, and whatever reasons she had don’t really matter. I’ll probably never see her again…”

  Hopefully. Hoshi would probably finish strangling her – that would make a reunion kind of awkward. The morbid thought passed, lightening her mood, and Casca smiled. She bumped her fellow Rocket Grunt with her shoulder. “Yeah, probably best not to dwell. We’ll just take things one day at a time, yeah? Plenty of excitement to look forward to.” She managed to keep most of the sarcasm she was feeling from making it into the last sentence. Ugh. More battles…

  With a solemn nod, Puce stood. In the still night air Casca was struck again by how young the older woman looked. Is it me? It’s not like I was on the streets for long, I’m not like Mimi… So why does everyone else seem naive? It made her feel old, like some grizzled veteran sour about young people not having to walk to school uphill both ways or some equally asinine shit. Fuck, I’m probably just freaking out about everything still. We did almost all die last night, it isn’t weird to be a little fucked up about it…

  “Thanks,” Puce said, her expression closer to determined than anything else. “I’m going to go inside and try to get more sleep. You coming in?”

  “Naw, I’ve got another conversation to get to. But seriously, don’t overthink it, yeah?”

  “Yeah…” Puce turned to leave – but hesitated. “Um… this is probably a weird question, but…”

  “I’m listening.”

  “…Do you think my parents will still love me? Even with..?”

  Casca couldn’t help but grimace, the question hitting her stomach and causing it to tighten up. Puce’s face fell as she saw the expression unfold, and she gave a sad nod as she turned away again. “Yeah, I guess-”

  “They will,” Casca interrupted, injecting conviction into her voice despite her churning gut. “They will. Sorry, I’ve got baggage with parents – but your family is super nice. I bet you could actually kill a cop and they’d just help you hide the body.”

  Puce’s face went blank, and then she laughed. It wasn’t her normal, reserved laugh either; it was a heaving guffaw, one that showed off how deep her frame really was. “Oh no, don’t joke about that, that’s horrible..!” She continued to laugh as Casca stood, walking up to the tall woman to put her hand on her shoulder.

  “Not even joking, girl,” she said with a smile. “Your folks are like sitcom characters, some old corny thing that only grandpas and little kids watch. They absolutely still love you.” She gave a reassuring pat – though most of it was probably smothered by the bandages. “Get some sleep.”

  “So you decided to shoot at them.”

  Tsuyu Mutsu’s voice was harsh, as was the growled reply that the bandanna-wearing woman responded with. “Of course we shot at them! They smashed right through the guardhouse, they obviously weren’t gonna just lie down and give up!”

  Janine watched the head of Fuchsia’s other ninja clan scoff with a half-hidden wince. I should probably keep them away from each other – misery might love company, but it’s not the friendly kind of host. “Let’s stay on-track. What happened then?”

  The Purple Heart member visibly wrestled her emotions down. It was an admirable show of professionalism; several of her comrades had lost their lives mere hours ago, and the carnage left the Gym Leader herself slightly sickened. “The blue-haired pretty boy went down. Probably not dead, the scream wasn’t quite right for a kill-shot, but he won’t be back on the streets anytime soon. Then…”

  “Go on.”

  Her nostrils flared. “A persian jumped out and killed Zeke, then Jax. No sound, nothing to dodge, just… boom, dead. Some kind of dark move – Night Slash, I’d guess.” She looked away. “It was dressed up kind of like you, actually; tight little black dress with a headwrap. Willy got got by some kinda grass type, a cactus that shot him full’a needles… Bad way to go. Didn’t happen right away, I actually thought he might tough it out and pull through, but…”

  Cacturne, Janine’s mind supplied. Dark and grass. Another foreign Pokémon. “I’m sorry for your loss.” I knew they must be dangerous to have evaded law enforcement for so long, but we really underestimated the level of strength those two are capable of as pure battlers.

  The woman – she’d introduced herself as Pockets, but that was an obvious gang name – continued to avoid eye contact as she grit her teeth. “It’s the job. We knew what we were getting into when we signed up.”

  Janine could only agree silently with a sad nod. The Purple Hearts were, on the surface, just another small-time biker gang like the many that spent their days battling it out across the span of Kanto’s great bridge – but underneath, they were one of the primary ways that Fuchsia kept its neighbouring route clean.

  In exchange for handing in any seized contraband, putting down groups that looked to be growing a little too fast, and doing jobs that Fuchsia would prefer to not be seen to be involved in, they were compensated with a number of under-the-table benefits. One was access to Gym trainer-level Pokémon, and another…

  Is the chance to become Gym trainers themselves, in time. “And that was when you retreated?”

  “Yeah. I stuck nearby – it was easy, since there were like thirty guys following along watching – but I didn’t go back in.”

  “First smart thing you did,” Tsuyu commented, and Janine shot her a look. I know you’re angry about your nephew, she communicated with her eyes, but please, keep it inside for now. We have a job to do.

  The older woman turned away, chastised, and Janine continued. “What Pokémon did they have? As specific as you can remember, please.”

  Pockets’s expression softened ever so slightly as she thought. “A lot of fire types. Badly trained, but they were strong – they kept hitting each other, but it didn’t do much. An arcanine, a rapidash, a charizard…”

  As she continued, Janine resisted the urge to scowl. Whoever put that team together knows what they’re doing. Half of them have special abilities that empower them as they absorb flames – the ‘friendly fire’ wasn’t an accident.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “…A few other fliers, too. I saw a scyther jump out the back, but it didn’t do much, and right near the end this giant bat came out from the cab.”

  “Zubat line?” Tsuyu asked.

  “No, smaller. Faster too. Used a sound move that knocked the blue’s pidgeot right out. Then there was this squid-looking thing that appeared at the same time – it didn’t do anything either, but the ‘mon was fucking creepy.”

  Probably swoobat; that must be the mystery Pokémon that kept fouling Nerine’s attempts. And… She looked to Tsuyu. “I’m not familiar with that last one. Not tentacruel?”

  The gang woman shook her head. “No, there was one of those inside. The weird one was thinner, not jellyfish at all – looked like it was kinda upside-down? The tentacles-”

  “Malamar,” Tsuyu interrupted. “Another fully-evolved Pokémon. Dark-psychic, specialises in mind control. Like a Kalosian hypno, except instead of eating your dreams, it’ll just eat you.”

  “Thank you.” Dark, psychic, poison… Ugh, I feel like I’m describing Dad’s team. This is going to be a bad fight, no matter where it happens… “Do you remember anything else, Pockets?”

  The woman supplied a few more details, the act of speaking occasionally digging up extra memories. Some of it would be exaggerated or outright misremembered – things always were – but it was better to have flawed information rather than none. She spent much of the quiet night there on the embankment under the Route proper, lightly interrogating the Purple Heart while Tsuyu grumbled.

  They only finished as the morning sun began to crest over the eastern landmass, its light bouncing off the shallow sea lapping at the bridge’s foundations. “I can’t remember anything else,” Pockets said wearily. “So, we done? I’ll have to talk with the blues, too – unless you can slip me outta that?”

  Janine’s brows twitched. I can, but you won’t like it. “Maybe. Let me talk to the Mutsu Head for a moment.”

  The gangster grunted, and Janine retreated to where Tsuyu had set up a tiny one-person tent – basically just a waterproof sleeping bag with a hood, though of course the former feature wasn’t needed given their position under the bridge. She emerged as Jasmine approached, maskless face openly displaying her lingering displeasure.

  “Learn anything else?”

  As if you weren’t listening. “Not much. Your nephew might have a dragon now.”

  She snorted. “An unevolved one. I’m more worried about what that girl didn’t see.” Janine nodded; though she wouldn’t put it so crudely, she, too, was worried about the parts of the Rocket Executives’ teams that they’d managed to keep up their sleeves. That wasn’t an advantage that the two ninja shared. “So, are we following them?”

  “If I said no, would you even listen?”

  The woman opened her mouth, angry, but thought better of it. She bit her tongue, wrestling with herself much like Pockets had hours ago, and when Tsuyu spoke her voice was even. “I would. You are the Fuchsia City Gym Leader, and my personal issues don’t supersede that.”

  “Really?” Janine raised a brow. “You haven’t been acting like it.”

  Tsuyu loomed, and for a moment the younger woman was forcibly made aware of the size disparity between them – the Mutsu clan were both taller and broader than the Doksu as a rule, and though Tsuyu wouldn’t draw eyes while walking down the street like some of her brethren, she was broad-shouldered and with the subtle muscles characteristic of a swordswoman. In a purely physical altercation, it was obvious who would hold the high ground.

  But of course, it didn’t come to that. “Tch,” Tsuyu scoffed, turning her head in acknowledgment of her fellow Clan Head’s point. “I didn’t say I’d be your lackey. Give me an objective and I’ll do it, but I’ll be doing it my way. And if I think you’re fucking it up, I’ll correct you – as a senior sister should.”

  The two decades of seniority the woman held sat heavily between them, fighting Janine’s title for influence. Sharing the space were generations of conflict, the rivalry that Fuchsia’s two blossoms had shared since before Kanto was a country. The Gym Leader sighed, very softly. It’ll have to do. “Well, we are going after them, so pack up. Is your haunter back yet?”

  “He’ll find me – and probably with better information than the girlie gave us. Speaking of… she coming with us?”

  “No.”

  Tsuyu accepted the answer with a nod, and started to fold her tent down into its travelling form. Janine turned away, and released a scouting Pokémon of her own – though most people wouldn’t think of it as such. Her tentacruel appeared with a red flash, the light seemingly caught in its vitreous gems. “Tentacruel, they’ve probably moved to travelling via boat. Look for a mid-sized vessel, electric, with between ten and fifteen occupants.”

  The jellyfish monster replied with a low vibration, more visceral than audible, before sliding bonelessly towards the ocean. Its passing frightened a family of slugma nesting in the foundations, the invasive species spitting at it as it went, and Janine sighed again. Going to have to clean them out again. Who even knows where they’re coming from – it’s not like there’s anywhere nearby for them to hide.

  But the mundane concern of conservation couldn’t occupy her for very long; it was time for an uncomfortable conversation. Her feet moved soundlessly, and in seconds she’d returned to the gang woman’s side.

  “Pockets.”

  “Ack- Arcus! Fuck, like a damn shadow…”

  The unintentional compliment made Janine’s lips twitch, but it wasn’t enough to stop the sour taste in the back of her throat. “Tell me your full name, please.”

  The woman – girl, maybe, she looked closer to eighteen than twenty – narrowed her eyes, but obeyed. “Name’s… Piper. Laurel Black Piper. What’s it to ya?”

  Janine breathed in. “Laurel Black Piper. As the Gym Leader of the Fuchsia City Pokémon Gym, I formally invoke your duty as a citizen of Kanto, and draft you into my service.”

  “Wha..?” Piper blinked, bemused. “Is this..? You’re making me a Gym trainer? Now, with my boyfriend and the rest dead?” Her face went through a carousel of emotion. “I- no, not now. I’ve gotta- fuck, I’ve gotta talk to Zeke’s dad. He’s gonna be inconsolable, and his little sis…”

  Janine suppressed a wince. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I have to insist. We need someone in the Gym – and you and the rest of Purple Heart are the only option. When I say drafted, I mean drafted.”

  Again, the woman’s face changed shape. “You-! Are you fucking doing this? I mean- now? Now.” The repetition of the word did little to dampen the incredulity in her voice. “Fuck. Fine, whatever – but you’re a fucking bitch, and I expect a giant fucking favour when the League gets its head out of its ass.”

  The two shinobi left the artificial island before dawn had finished blooming, travelling in a small speedboat that felt even more cramped with a tentacruel taking up most of the floorspace. Their new Gym trainer was, unless something unexpected was happening, on her way to Fuchsia along with the rest of her former gang.

  It sparked both relief and worry; the former because she’d done her duty to see the Gym staffed, and done so without compromising her other obligations, and the latter because…

  Well, a lot of reasons. It’s a damn slipshod solution. The fact that I needed to do it means the situation is unignorably terrible. Tsuyu is emotionally compromised. Nerine’s in the hospital…

  A lot of things were going wrong. But as they rocketed across the sea in the direction her Pokémon indicated, her convictions settled into place. But it’s my job to keep them from getting worse, so I can’t slow down.

  The boat cut through the water, its engine running full-tilt. A shinobi had to know when it was time to discard stealth, and right now… Speed is more important.

  We’ll stop them before they link up to the madmen they call scientists. We have to.

  Hoshi had always had a complicated relationship with water.

  …Well, not always. Only since he was five – though admittedly his memories before that point were far from clear. Maybe his feelings had been the same even before they’d dragged his mother out of the bay.

  He doubted it, but it wasn’t impossible.

  Huh. Feeling morbid. And I was so upbeat earlier, too. A self-deprecating smile threatened to form, but died as he stared out at the dark water. A reflected lightshow might’ve been dancing on the surface, but his eyes were focusing on what was beneath – the actual sea, dark and cold and ruthless under the painted-on cheer of the sky. Fucking real morbid, Arcus. I’m glad Casca isn't here, or she’d make fun of me for brooding like-

  “Hey stud,” came a bright voice from his left, and Hoshi’s eyes turned upwards. If you’re actually up there, Arcus, can you stop fucking with me? It’s getting old.

  “Hey sunshine. Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Not even a little. I’m jittery – everyone is. I’m pretty sure Kenny’s not actually seasick, he’s just too proud to admit the whole dead guys thing scared him.”

  Hoshi hummed back. Maybe. He seemed mostly fine during the day, though. Maybe it just took a moment to hit.

  “What about you?” she continued. “First time you’ve seen a dead body, unless you’ve been holding out on me. How you feeling?”

  “Morbid,” Hoshi answered honestly. “But not from that, I don’t think. And no, it wasn’t my first time seeing a dead body.” Casca’s brows came together as she searched her memory, trying to put together the fragments of the past she’d teased out of him – but she wouldn’t know the part he was referencing, so he kept talking. “I was there when they found her.”

  She understood without needing it spelled out. “Oh. Wow, that’s…”

  He shrugged. “Yeah.” The moment was awkward, so he pushed past. “It was a long time ago. The feelings… They don’t last. You get used to it.” There was something almost like guilt that came with the words – but what were you supposed to do, stay grieving forever? No. No. “But that’s not something I feel like talking about. You feel twitchy?”

  Casca accepted the deflection, joining him in leaning on the railing. Her shoulder bumped his, warm and alive. “I guess I'm in a morbid mood of my own… I’ve been thinking about what happens if we don’t make it through this.”

  “We will,” he firmly countered. “Maybe it’ll hurt, maybe we’ll lose, but we have to believe that-”

  Her hand wrapping around his own stopped him. “Hoshi… I don’t want to have any regrets. Any at all – you get me?” Casca looked at him, the moon reflected in her eyes, and his mind went to a party with a childish banner, and a pikachu-shaped cake, and a mountain of things that would never be said.

  “I… Yeah, I think I do.”

  She nodded, and fell silent. The night air was cool, but not enough to turn their breaths to mist – in fact it was astoundingly clear. I guess the Moltres fouled up the weather a bit. Feels kind of unsettling; the ocean shouldn’t ever be this still. The stars twinkling as though underwater were beautiful, though. Kind of like my psychic bullshit. Looks pretty, but not very useful. Keeps you from seeing what’s underneath. In reality the water was cold, and deep. Putting a rainbow on its surface felt almost disrespectful, like hiding something profound under a clown’s facepaint.

  “When we met,” Casca eventually started again, “You asked if I was secretly a princess. Well…” Her lips curved; she’d taken a shower at the racetrack, and so all the cosmetics she’d applied had been washed off. Without paint her lips were a soft pink, desaturated in the night’s tepid light. Hoshi was tempted to extend his metaphor, to say that this was the real Casca – but taken from its context, his poetic thoughts fell apart. Casca wasn’t less herself when she put makeup on, any more than the sea got less dangerous when something was reflected on its surface. “You guessed right. Cascade Kichi, heiress to Victoria and Barclay Kichi, owners of the Détente Bank – pleased to meet you.”

  She stuck her other hand out, and Hoshi, amused despite the heaviness of the moment, shook it playfully. “Pleased to meet you, Casca.” The phrase you don’t have to do this floated to the top of his thoughts, but while he’d said it comfortingly in the past it would only cheapen what was happening now. So he left it to float.

  “The word princess is actually pretty on-point. My parents were rich rich – are still rich rich, I guess. My life was…” Her eyes went back to the sea, but they were looking at something else. “…Perfect.” The way she said it sent a shiver down his spine. “I lived in a mansion, Hoshi. I had a maid – a personal maid, separate from my parents’. All my friends were rich too. We lived in our own little paradise…”

  He swallowed. “You know, I can see it. You’ve got expensive tastes.”

  Her left hand went to her ear, unconsciously – or maybe purposefully – touching the small hole where her actually-bejewelled jewelry usually sat. “I guess I do.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  And so she did. Hoshi listened as his girlfriend described her life before whatever it was that had put a stop to it; dinner parties and a life of luxury that her words could only convey in abstract.

  “I wanted to be a fashion designer,” she said with a laugh. “Or an interior designer, some days. Fuck, I think a part of me still wants to be those. Is that silly?”

  “It isn’t. I think you’d be good at it – at least as good as I’d be at raising cattle.”

  She laughed again – but then, suddenly, grew sombre. From the pocket of the plain pants she was wearing, so much more mundane than her usual dresses, came a pack of smokes and a lighter. The magcargo one, he noticed with trepidation. I was hoping it wouldn’t come out… I guess it’s time to get serious.

  Fire glowed, radiant for a single second, and then died. Casca took a puff, exhaled over the side, and then exhaled again in a sigh. “I’ve been dreading this.”

  “You…” don’t have to. Family’s personal.

  Her smile was subtle, full of layered emotions like overlapping coats of candy-bright paint. “But it’s been a long time coming. I was the heiress, the little socialite-in-training. My parents doted on me, and that came with expectations.” Inhale, exhale, exhale. “I tried to live up to them. I wanted to live up to them, you know? I really loved my parents.” Another laugh, the tiny smoldering fire bobbing like a tiny ship on rough waters. “It sounds stupid to say out loud. Everybody loves their parents. But… Hah, I think I loved my parents a lot? Like maybe a weird amount – I don’t know. Anyway…”

  Hoshi was silent as she took another drag, this time without a sigh to follow it.

  “Anyway, I tried to be the perfect heiress. I talked the talk, I walked the walk – I like to think I was pretty damn good at it, even as a twelve-year-old.” Her smile edged towards something like sad, but not quite, regret, but not quite. “I…” A long pause, ashes dripping down into the water, disappearing half-way as they lost their heat. “I got pregnant.”

  The sentence hit Hoshi’s gut like a physical blow, and he almost curled into a ball. “You- it was, was it..?”

  “It was consensual,” she answered with the ghost of an eye-roll. “Don’t worry, the bad part hasn’t come up yet.” That’s not exactly reassuring, Casca. “Actually, I was ecstatic. I came up with like twenty names every day, ten if it was a boy, ten if it was a girl. My parents…” Her lips quirked into slyness, and Hoshi felt like there was a tumour in his throat, a great mass stealing his breath and trying to push his Adam's apple out through the front of his esophagus. Casca caught his expression, and the smile deepened. “No, they didn’t disown me. We had big fights about it, but I wasn’t worried for a second that they’d kick me out.”

  “And… the father?”

  She blinked, somehow caught off-guard. “The..?” Again, her eyes went into the past. “Huh. You know, I never questioned it in the moment, but I never saw him again after that? I guess his parents locked him in his room for months while they negotiated with mine. And he probably felt weird about me after…”

  “You didn’t love him?”

  “I loved the idea of him, I think – he was, like, a necessary step in the plan of my life?” The smile was still there, but it was awkward now. “Wow, sounds callous when I say it out loud… I was definitely more in love with the idea of being in love than with the actual guy. Though…” Sad. “I definitely loved the… the kid.”

  Hoshi let the silence stretch on. The ashes fell, fell, fell, swallowed by the night before they could even make it to the water. “Did you… Have it..?”

  Casca’s face radiated grief, black and dry, long-dead mold that could never be scrubbed clean despite having all but turned to dust. “No. My parents wanted to get rid of it, almost as much as I wanted to keep it. In the end…” She swallowed. “I was too young. Nature went over my head for them.”

  He went in for a hug, and she allowed it. Her skin was warm despite the autumn air, almost feverish. “I’m sorry,” Hoshi muttered into her hair. “That must’ve been horrible.”

  He couldn’t see her expression any longer, but it was easy to imagine; the slight twist as memory brought further grief, then a twist the other way as she fought it, back-and-forth until everything was crinkled but mostly straight. “I… I don’t remember the after very well. My parents doted on me, but it felt different. I really did love them – seeing them happy made me happy, seeing them sad made me sad. But after the… the thing… I was so sad, but they acted like it’d been a good thing. Like I’d been dying and suddenly come back to life.” Tears soaked through his thin jacket, then his shirt, and wet his skin. There weren’t very many, but that there were any at all made his teeth ache.

  “I… I didn’t leave right away. Not for years. I… waited. I didn’t want to believe my parents didn’t really love me. But I couldn’t stop testing it, and…” She trailed off, and a second later started to squirm. Hoshi let go, and with one final drag Casca tossed her smoke into the sea.

  Unlike the ashes, it was visible the whole way down – and beyond. In a tiny, pointless miracle the cigarette wasn’t even extinguished as it hit the water; it bobbed, faint fire continuing to burn even as the ship left it behind.

  “I left when I was fifteen,” she spoke softly into the night, watching the artificial star burn. “It was torture, realising the truth. The house may as well have been empty, I felt so alone… For a little bit after I hit the streets it felt radiant, like I was born again, and then I started to starve…”

  One last fit of laughter, toeing the line between amusement and sobs, and Hoshi hugged her again.

  “…They’d take me back,” she eventually said. “I think. I’m not sure if they’d even care – I was always just an extension of them, their wealth, their influence. But I…”

  She didn’t need to finish the thought; he understood. “Maybe. Would you want them to?”

  “…I don’t know. I can’t imagine it.”

  Hoshi nodded softly, cradling his girlfriend as the tiny light winked out – either it had eaten itself, or the water had taken it. The ending’s the same… So why does the first option seem so much more hopeful..?

  They stood against the railing for a long time. Not long enough for dawn to break, but they would for sure both be feeling it in the morning.

  And all through the night, not a single wave rocked the ship.