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It’s not every day that Jay finds herself lounging on the dock at the edge of Featherbrook. She hasn’t spent a significant amount of time out here in a long while, save for a few trips when Ava had been expected home. The two had spent a lot of time on these docks when they were younger, fishing with their mother.
But today, she isn’t here with Ava, nor with their mother. Today, she lays on a warm blanket she and Kira have laid out, feeling the rays of the sun on her skin.
The summer before their last year of school is coming to a close, and after it does, their future gets a lot more real.
Today, however, Jay is electing to ignore that, and instead just spend time with her friend. She knows that the future likely means their separation. Kira, as of now, plans to leave for RAFT by the end of the next summer.
Whether or not that means the whole three months will be spent training here, up at the base in the city, before going off–island, Jay isn’t sure. She doesn’t plan to join Kira, whatever it is. RAFT is her father’s thing, Ava’s thing. And soon, it will be Kira’s thing, too. What Jay’s thing is, she isn’t sure.
She tries to tell herself that she has plenty of time to figure out what it is. In the meantime, her time after graduation will be spent working at the Eagle’s Den, likely full time. She likes it there. It’s home.
But it’s empty without Ava.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking about,” Kira’s words poke through Jay’s thoughts like one would pop a bubble–easily, as if whatever was there before was so insignificant that it wouldn’t be missed–and she looks over at Jay, a knowing smile on her face. “Weren’t you the one who said no thinking about the future today? Today’s about the present, Jay. The here. The now.”
Jay can’t hide the smile that crosses her own face. Kira knows her well. Maybe too well.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to think so hard about the future if someone didn’t have her whole life planned out perfectly.” Jay rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “You make it look easy, Ki.”
Kira snorts at that. “Easy. Right.”
“Come on, you do!”
Kira gives Jay a doubtful glance before shifting onto her back, hands behind her head. “I don’t know what to tell you. Besides, you know your mom’s gonna let you stay and work at the tavern for as long as you want. You could just do that for a few years. Maybe study some more. You know, you did always…”
As Kira continues on a tangent about Jay’s future, Jay can’t help but notice how the horn protruding from her head glints in the sunlight. Her pale blonde waves, for the most part, cascade past her folded arms onto the blanket. Kira’s bangs still perfectly frame her face despite the breeze.
She almost looks ethereal, Jay thinks to nobody but herself. It’s no surprise, that Kira looks otherworldly. Jay may not know much about mancores, but she’s pretty sure they’re not from Mana, but from the Feywild. Kira’s been here her whole life, but that doesn’t stop her from having that magical glow that she has.
It’s something Jay has always noticed to some extent, but the past few months, it’s like something changed. Kira’s always been able to make Jay smile easily, but… something is different, now.
Not that different is bad! Maybe it isn’t.
But what if it is?
Jay doesn’t want to think about it.
“–and I’m sure your mom would be happy for you if you did, you know, decide to leave Featherbrook. Not that you have to. But you have plenty of time to decide, alright?” Kira’s saying, as Jay comes out of her trance. “Jay?”
Jay blinks, slowly, then meets Kira’s eyes. “Huh?”
Kira breaks into a knowing smile, shaking her head a little. “Didn’t hear a word of that, did you, bluejay?”
Jay feels heat on her face, and she almost wants to blame it on the sun above them.
“Sorry,” Jay says, “I’ve been, um… all over the place, recently.”
It isn’t untrue. But it also isn’t the reason she didn’t hear what Kira said, not this time. Times before, sure, but not now.
Kira sits up, looking out at the sun. She wears a crescent moon pendant around her neck, hanging from a chain. It shimmers in the sunlight. There’s probably something poetic that could be said about Lunadeyis’ symbol being shone on by the light of the sun, but nothing like that comes to Jay right now.
“Do you really think they’re listening?” Kira’s asked these same words a few times before. It’s more of a rhetorical question than anything, something to lead into whatever thought she’s having. “Hearing every single thing, every noise anyone ever makes?”
“Seems like it’d be a lot to focus on at once,” Jay muses, following Kira’s gaze out to the sun. “But I suppose it’s possible. Maybe goddesses have longer attention spans than we do.”
Kira smiles once more, seemingly content with the answer. Jay’s not quite the religious type, not in the way many of her family members are, nor in the way Kira is. Maybe part of that is how Kira’s more innately connected to the world. Jay’s tried, a few times, to connect the way her mother does, and the way Kira does. It’s never worked.
Maybe it comes down to the fact that, in the end, Jay feels it better to trust those you know, those you can see and feel around you. You can’t always rely on the will of a goddess to save you.
“They used to say Aster and Lunadeyis were always listening, do you remember that?” Kira laughs, and it comes out like a perfect little song. “I’m inclined to believe we were just told that so that we’d behave. I can’t imagine that Lunadeyis or Aster would care too much about a little island like ours.”
Her shoulders relax, and she looks over at Jay to meet her eyes.
Maybe these questions are too big to answer. Maybe the future is too far away to determine. Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t set in stone, willed to be a certain way just because a goddess made it so.
“Do you really wanna leave?” The words come out of Jay’s mouth before she can think much about them. She and Kira have spent near every minute, every day, together, since they were young. Yes, Kira isn’t meant to leave for another year, but Jay knows all too well that that year will fly by.
Kira hesitates, but nods. She carefully pushes back their plates, moving to sit just next to Jay. Hardly any space remains between them, and Jay leans her head against Kira’s shoulder.
“I want to see Mana, Jay.” Jay knows that isn’t the only reason, but it’s not untrue. “I want to see the world we’ve spent, you know, sixteen years learning about. I want to help people, and–and meet people.”
People like me.
The words, unspoken, hang in the air. Kira’s long talked about seeing the world, but what she longs for is others like her. Jay knows that. In some ways, she has always known Kira would leave.
“What if we sailed together? Just us, no… No RAFT. We could still help people, and meet people, and we could–” The thought dies on Jay’s lips, and she sighs. “I just don’t want you to go.”
“You’ll still have me for another year, remember?”
That isn’t enough time.
Both of them know it.
“What if something happens while you’re out there?”
“Like what?” Kira looks down at Jay once more.
“Like…” Jay sighs. “I don’t know. Like me missing you. And sending you a letter every single day.”
Kira laughs once more. “Well, bluejay, if that were to happen, I’d enjoy it very much.”
“You would?” Jay meets Kira’s eyes. “Every single day?”
“Well, I’d respond to them in groups.”
Jay rolls her eyes, a grin growing on her face. “I’m really gonna miss you.”
“I know,” Kira says, slipping her hand into Jay’s own. “But I’m not going anywhere yet.”
There’s something about how she says that, and the way she’s looking at Jay.
An intensity, one that Kira doesn’t usually have, stares out at Jay from behind Kira’s eyes. It’s one Jay only notices on Kira’s face when she’s contemplating a decision. Something she wants.
Kira’s eyes trail down to their intertwined hands, and Jay almost thinks she imagines them lingering on Jay’s own lips for a half second.
She definitely imagines it. Right? That’s all it is.
“Jay?”
Now, Jay doesn’t dare meet her eyes. Whether out of fear or being wrong or fear of being right, in that Kira looked at her lips, Jay doesn’t know.
It’s entirely possible that she’d imagined Kira eyeing her lips. It’s entirely possible that it was something of Jay’s own creation, a thought.
A wish?
She feels Kira squeeze her hand, and suddenly, Jay becomes acutely aware of her own breathing.
“Jay,” Kira prompts again, and this time, Jay looks up at her. At her sparkling auburn eyes, almost like the color of leaves in the fall.
As if in slow motion, Jay suddenly registers Kira’s hand on her shoulder, and Kira’s lips meeting her own.
Cinnamon. That’s the first thing Jay thinks. And then, unceremoniously, Kira’s kissing me.
I’m kissing Kira.
Jay lets her eyes drift closed, basking in this moment. If she just stays here, everything is perfect.
This moment lasts anything but too long, in fact, it feels much too short.
She looks once more at Kira, searching her gaze for any malcontent. Instead, she’s met with a soft gaze; the corners of Kira’s eyes turn up as she smiles at Jay in a way Jay’s only caught glimpses of.
Is this how she looks at Jay when she assumes Jay isn’t looking? With this fondness in her eyes, a look Jay could get lost in? Has she never noticed because she assumed it would never work?
Despite the questions, Jay can’t help but smile back, and a content sigh escapes her throat. Maybe it’s even enough to forget that they only have a year left of this time together.
Maybe that year will be enough.
Kira is the first one to speak, after a silence that seems to go on forever. “So,” she says, blinking a couple of times. “About that year we have left?”
Jay laughs. “What about it?”
Kira breaks her gaze to look out at the sea, then turns back to look at the town she and Jay have grown up in. The town that has seen them both at their best and their worst, their highest and lowest.
“I think it’s gonna be a good year.”
With that, Jay is inclined to agree.