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Drumming her fingers on the armrest, Koitar lounged on the sofa, wondering what could possibly be taking them so long to meet her. At this rate, the tea she had poured out for them would go cold. Nabu would never let her hear the end of it. Of course, Nabu would also scold her for dipping her biscuits in as well, so she had never intended to tell her anyway, but still. Her sister could be such a brat when she didn’t get her way.
Sunlight streamed in through the yellow curtains, washing the room in gold. Every surface sparkled. In this bright room, her waking thoughts that morning should have drifted away, dissipating like smoke. And yet they lingered like stars in the sky, so maddeningly close, but so far from her grasp.
Anemones swaying in the currents, marine snow piling like dust at the bottom. A starfish and a jellyfish, limbs intertwined, resting atop a bed of soft kelp, seashells arrayed around them. Gazing up at the stars through the soft blue haze of the ocean, before cresting the waves, and beholding them in their naked glory.
That morning, Koitar woke up and thought I want to go to the aquarium.
She texted them, too. She wanted to go with someone. Of course, work had to come first.
Looking around, she saw that the coast was clear. She had just reached for a cookie when the door opened, and the person whom her life revolved around walked in.
Koitar stiffened, hand immediately dropping to her side. Phanes raised an eyebrow at her, but apparently did not care to comment on her impropriety. The dark circles under their eyes had grown deeper, adorning their waxen face. Rubbing their temple, they sat down. “The report,” they said, in lieu of a greeting.
“The Foul’s fighting ring on the northern side of the city has ties to Ianikuinen,” said Koitar, using his code name, “but regrettably, I am not sure to what extent. I think he and the Foul may have been business partners at some point in the past, or shared one, but there is no evidence that this is the case today. In my opinion, I don’t believe–”
“And his daughters?”
“... I’m sorry, Mother. I was unable to dig up anything on them. They refuse to speak to me, and their servants are similarly tight-lipped.”
Phanes did not respond. An uneasy air filled the room, and Koitar dreaded the next few seconds like a man on death row awaiting the guillotine. When Phanes finally spoke, their voice was heavy with disappointment.
“So you haven’t confirmed anything.”
Koitar bowed her head. Phanes pinched their nose with obvious disapproval. “I see. I suppose Sonnet’s disdain for me overrides her natural inclination to gab.” They checked their wristwatch, and Koitar used the opportunity to snatch a cookie from the plate, in case she needed time to stall. Pushing chalky hair over their shoulder, they spoke up once more.
“Koitar. You will investigate the illegal fighting ring yourself. Don’t take anyone with you– if you show up with your entourage, someone will get suspicious. We don’t need anyone connecting any dots.”
That was not ideal. The northern edge of Hyperborea was already considered one of the more dangerous parts of the city. Koitar was sure, without a doubt, that the general area where the ring operated would be a hotbed of crime and exploitation. And she would be a lone woman with no connections, since evidently Phanes did not want her to be linked back to them for this operation.
But orders were orders. She nodded, dipping a cookie into her cup. “I understand. I will do it.”
Phanes hummed, catching their daughter by surprise. How long had it been since she heard–? “See to it that you do.”
Standing up, they dusted their clothes off. Koitar suddenly remembered something, and stood up herself. “Father, do you remember what I asked you?”
Phanes looked at her strangely. Abject humiliation creeped up on her, but she continued nonetheless.
“I asked you if you might come to the aquarium with me. It’s been a very long time since…” she trailed off, noting the thinly-veiled impatience upon her parent’s face.
“Never mind. I’m sorry for taking up more of your time.”
She sank back into the couch, as if in a dream. Phanes did not concern themself with her any longer, only pulling their coat tighter around their body and walking to the door. Before walking out, they left her with parting words.
“Good luck, daughter.”
Sunlight bathed the room in gold. It was warm, the weather fair, and Koitar noticed none of it. Her cookie was still hard, chilled drops staining her skirt. The tea had gone cold.
That was early in the afternoon. Now, the sky was overcast, grey clouds jealously guarding the sun. Or perhaps it was the sun who did not want to look down on the world that day, wishing to shower its light upon one alone.
Koitar had come here on a whim, letting the crowd carry her through the busy square. The aquarium, just within reach. Within walking distance. Even so, it seemed farther away to her than any star. The thought of walking in alone seemed almost unbearable.
Phanes had taken her once, when she was very young. She did not remember when or what she saw, only that she had smiled so widely her face hurt for the rest of the day. That was a time when the world seemed kind, when the shiny toys and pretty dresses and sticks of bubblegum were in endless supply. They still were, but the color had drained away, leaving only the husk of a carefree life.
She was afraid of going in, she realized. To go in and find that it was different, to replace those happy memories with new, colder ones.
Koitar stood there, stricken, until the crowd whisked her away once again.
She slipped in and out of the alleyways, eyes weighed down by exhaustion. So far, direct reconnaissance had yielded no results of value. If Surtalogi knew of that man’s whereabouts, he certainly wasn't screaming it from the rooftops. Koitar had misjudged her approach as well. Outfit too prim and proper, she had stood out like a sore thumb.
The scent of grease and blood permeated the underground ring. She could hardly stand it, and quickly snuck out for a breath of fresh night air. Exhaling, her breath misted in the chill, dissolving upon the wind.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a cigarette. Leaning against the wall, she slipped it between her lips. She fumbled around for her lighter, and produced it within a moment.
It was a gift from Nabu, rose gold in color, studded with tiny diamonds and twining silver foil. Koitar had thanked her, intending never to use it, but as the stress and work from Phanes piled up, she had caved one day, using it on a cheap pack she had bought from a corner store in disguise. Just one taste, she had reasoned.
Smoking did not mesh well with her public image. But neither did the many other things she did in service of her father. And so, it became a habit, the one vice Koitar allowed herself.
Best to cut her losses here. Dressed like this, she wouldn’t be able to make any progress in her mission without attracting undue attention. She stubbed out the cigarette. Humming a tune, she unpeeled herself from the wall, mentally making note to wash her coat later.
Footsteps reached her ear, heavy and purposeful. Dropping the lighter, Koitar whirled around, fingers scrambling for her weapon, when a blur of purple surged forth, knocking into the would-be attacker with lightning speed.
A fist caught the drunken man in his gut, and he stumbled into the wall. As he reeled back in shock, froth spilling from his lips, the second person smashed their fist into his head, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. They stepped back, taking a breath, and Koitar relaxed slightly.
Her savior brushed silvery hair away from his face. A well worn purple sweater seemed to be all that protected him from the biting cold and harsh fists of others. For someone with such a strong right hook, he had a lean frame, as if a stiff breeze could knock him over. As she turned to her, Koitar saw that her eyes were a breathtakingly vibrant green, like clearwater jade.
“Are you okay? I saw this man tailing you, and…” the stranger’s voice ebbed away, eyes widening as she recognized Koitar. “Wait, you're–”
He yelped as he was ripped away, shoved into the stone pavement. The drunkard loomed over him, face red with rage, spitting incoherent insults. Apparently a concussion had done nothing to soften his temper, and his hands soon wrapped around the savior’s throat in a chokehold as he throttled him. The stranger tried to kick him off, but his weight was overbearing–
–until Koitar hauled the drunken man off, slammed him into the wall, and plunged her knife into his eye.
She didn't give him time to scream, yanking it out and drawing it across his throat as if filleting a fish. Her expression did not change as blood sprayed over her face, soaking through her clothes. The rapidly fading strength of a dying was no match for her, and she managed to keep him pinned to the wall through his death throes, paying no mind to her saviour gasping for air like a fish out of water.
Eventually, his life ran out, and he slumped to the ground. Koitar stayed on him for a minute longer, before assuring herself that he was well and truly dead. She let go, turning to face the person who had helped her. He was rubbing his throat, looking up at her with wide, shocked eyes.
“You just killed that guy,” she choked out. Koitar nodded, wiping her chin.
“So I did.”
“You killed that guy,” she repeated, in clear disbelief. One of her hands closed around something on the ground. My lighter. “You're Koitar, aren't you? I saw the posters–”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
It was a salient question. Koitar did not want to kill someone whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, especially when it had resulted in them saving her. Good deeds should not be punished, but Phanes’ orders were absolute. She could not let this selfless stranger jeopardize her mission.
Luckily, it seemed the stranger agreed. He hesitated. “No,” he said after a short pause. “He would have done worse.”
A chill ran down her spine, but she ignored it.
“Then it's fine.” Koitar wiped her knife on her skirt, tucking it back into her pocket. The stranger seemed unsettled, fidgeting with nervous energy. Good, she was going to need it.
She gave him a more thorough once-over. Both of his hands were heavily bruised, even though he'd only used the right to knock the man out. Iron knuckle dusters covered his hands. His silvery hair shone in the moonlight, granting him an otherworldly glow that far outstripped his plain, ragged clothes. He was actually quite cute, the type that should be modelling instead of…
Koitar tilted her head, ignoring the sound of confusion he made. She narrowed her eyes. Where had she seen him before? Someone as pretty as him had no business hanging around Surtalogi’s den of depravity, unless…
“You’re the Voyager, aren’t you?”
To her credit, she was a surprisingly good actor. She simply smiled sheepishly, hand rising to scratch at her neck. “Huh? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re–”
“Seutervoinen.”
Seutervoinen aborted the motion. He let his hand fall to his side, tensing up as if expecting a fight. Strangely enough, his smile remained, though now significantly less friendly. “Didn’t think I’d be a household name to Hyperborea’s most famous idol.”
“You are not.” Koitar was blunt. “I only heard of you when I sent my agents here. You stand out like a sore thumb amongst this rabble. It seems that your friends agree.”
The fighter winced. “My ‘friends’ talk too much. Why do you know my name?”
Koitar sighed, feeling as if she’d aged five years in a day. “Does it matter? If it is any consolation, your personal information was merely collateral. You are not worth blackmailing.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I find a celebrity with connections to the government knowing about my extracurricular activities less than thrilling all the same.”
“That’s unfortunate for you. Would you like to know of something even more unfortunate?”
“Shoot.”
Koitar hauled the corpse up into a sitting position, placing it against the wall. “Our DNA is on this man. I do not want a bigger mess to clean up later, and I assume the idea of rotting in prison does not appeal to you.”
Silence.
“I know what you do with your free time, and you know what I do with mine. We may as well cooperate.”
Seutervoinen didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t exactly have room to argue. Huffing, he picked the man up by the legs, allowing Koitar to take the bloodier head. “I know a place where we can dump it.” He looked over his shoulder, exposing some of the bruising around his neck. Koitar tried not to stare. “Just follow me.”
The two of them managed to drag the body out of the alley, into the open square. Normally, Koitar would be unhappy about this, to say the least, but nobody seemed to care. She supposed if you lived near an underground fighting ring, seeing people carry unconscious bodies out in the open became standard fare. Even the blood had mostly dried, and nobody would see the missing eye unless they got close enough. Perhaps they would think him the loser in a bar fight.
A very violent bar fight, if the large stains on their clothes were any indication.
The fancy cocktail parties she was invited to were a little like that as well, if she ignored the blood and bruises. Somehow, she found the thought both comforting yet disquieting in equal measure, that highbrow socialites and the downtrodden cared equally little for the vulnerable. There was solace in inevitability, the knowledge that the status of her birth would not have changed her ultimate fate. She hummed a tune, watching Seutervoinen’s earring bob with each step.
After a minute, Seutervoinen interrupted her singing. “I was under the impression it’s inappropriate to hum while carrying the corpse of a man you just killed.”
She stopped, but Seutervoinen shook her head, though she was still looking in front, leading her ahead. “Don’t let me stop you. I’d tell you to spit on him, honestly.”
“You knew this man?”
He shrugged. “Saw him around the ring sometimes. I think he used to be one of the Foul’s better fighters. Doesn’t seem to be the case now. All he does now is harass anyone with a skirt and a pulse.” His voice darkened. “Actually, maybe scratch the pulse.”
Koitar looked her over. In these thick clothes, with her long hair tied in a ponytail, she certainly looked androgynous enough to avoid scrutiny… but also enough to attract it. “And you?”
“I’m just a street fighter to make ends meet.” There was something in her voice that tipped Koitar off, a tacit understanding that it was not the whole story. Seutervoinen’s problems were not hers to bear, however, so she let it go. “And you? What brings Hyperborea’s most beloved idol to the Foul's abode in person? Felt like helping your dad’s lackeys disappear the opposition yourself?”
They made a turn to the left. Sewage seeped into cracks in the pavement, and Koitar wished she had a free hand with which to pinch her nose. The smell of garbage was overwhelming. “Work.”
She stepped in a puddle, of what she dared not look. These shoes would be going straight in the trash when she got home.
After one last turn around the bend, the mountain of trash came into view. Koitar took one look at it and resolved to always keep lye on her in case she needed to get rid of a body. She never wanted to put herself in this situation again. Seutervoinen looked back at her, and actually had the audacity to giggle at her dumbfounded expression. “Seems like your work’s taken a turn for the worse.”
Koitar laid the head down on a pile of garbage, careful not to touch it herself. The putrid stench made her feel faint. Seutervoinen followed suit, dropping the legs as if they had burnt him. “Need to chop him up, make the body harder to ID and put together.”
Koitar stared at him as if he'd claimed monkeys could fly.
“Had I not heard it but ten minutes ago, I never would have expected you to be outraged that I murdered him.” Seutervoinen cast a grim glance towards her.
“Not outraged, just… surprised. Besides, this is where the Foul stashes away anyone unfortunate enough to die on his turf.”
Koitar took her knife out again. Seutervoinen muttered something about knowing where to find a cleaver in the piles of garbage, and, after digging through the slop with an impressively straight face, pulled it out. “Let’s get to business, then,” she declared.
Koitar passed him some disposable gloves, and put her own on. Seutervoinen clearly wanted to comment on her concerning preparedness for disposing of bodies, but thought better of it.
It was dirty work. Not new to Koitar, certainly, but usually someone else handled the cleanup. “You said you were trying to make ends meet. Is Surtalogi’s money worth having to put up with…” she gestured vaguely at the body with one hand, slicing a finger off with another.
Dismembering bodies did have its merits as a hobby, she mused. All she had to do was think of it like peeling a potato, or slicing up an apple, and her appetite withered away like magic. In this fashion, Koitar could survive off cigarettes and a light breakfast for a whole day. She cleanly separated each limb and set it aside, as if packing a lunch. The squelch of fat and the ripping of connective tissue destroyed any lingering hunger.
Seutervoinen hummed. “It’s a little more complicated than that. I have a degree, but I also have a friend to support,” he explained, meticulously portioning off an arm. Each slice welled up with blood, running down the limb in thin rivulets. Koitar decided to stop questioning why this random stranger knew the exact procedure to quickly dispose of a body. It wasn’t important, and it was also proving to be helpful.
“That’s very kind of you,” Koitar replied. She flung a finger somewhere far off. She imagined it hitting someone in the face, the unlucky recipient fainting in horror, and smiled.
“It’s what friends are for, no? What about you?”
Koitar sawed the corpse’s neck off, severing the head at the stump. She appraised the stained bone, the holes in the marrow. Thought of fat, wriggling worms poking out of each one.
If she hadn’t saved me, I might have ended up like this.
I feel sick.
She wished Seutervoinen hadn’t interrupted her humming. It was a nice distraction.
“I wanted to impress my parent. I owe them my current life. I feel as if I have disappointed them recently.” There was no reason to be dishonest; he had already seen her murder, and nobody would believe him if he squealed.
The squishy sound of parting flesh made her nauseous. “Seems they don’t know what a blessing it is to have someone primed to kill on command for them.” Seutervoinen cleanly separated the foot and stuffed it inside the mountain of trash.
Koitar tried to think of a rebuttal, but came up empty. She settled with a murmured “It's not like that,” as she buried a limb. Seutervoinen did not seem convinced.
“I won't pretend I approve of… whatever it is you rich kids do on the side, but if I made my daughter commit crime on my behalf, I wouldn't be sending her to a place like this alone.”
Koitar frowned. “It's not like that,” she repeated stubbornly. Seutervoinen only shrugged. They had almost finished dismembering the corpse. Even if it was by some miracle put back together again, the sheer amount of waste in here would have long wiped away all traces of their work. Just as a precaution, she turned the corpse over once more to make sure no hair stuck to it.
“Isn't it a parent’s duty to keep their child safe and happy? It's not something to be repaid.”
“Perhaps, but my sisters and I are exceptionally lucky. Taking up this work on their behalf is the least I can do. I was merely asked to find someone anyway. It was only due to my own incompetence and lack of awareness that I was forced to take these measures.”
Koitar buried the rest of the parts quickly. The smell was beginning to overwhelm her, and she really did not want to throw up on the corpse, or Seutervoinen. Seutervoinen, for her part, seemed to silently understand her pain as well, and put away her half hastily as well.
“There's a gym with showers nearby. Yes, it's under the Foul. Nobody will ask questions. We can clean up there.”
Without thinking, he put out his hand. Without thinking, Koitar took it. She did not notice the momentary surprise on his face, allowing him to pull her along.
One of the many trash heaps shifted, sending discarded cans clattering on the pavement. She paused, but Seutervoinen tugged on her hand, mumbling something about raccoons, and she followed along.
Koitar wished Seutervoinen would go a little faster. The putrid stench of decay clung steadfastly to her, threatening to bring the meager breakfast she had eaten that morning back up. She already ate according to the strict diet Phanes and her manager laid out for her, but ever since she had taken up smoking, she ate even less. It certainly helped her smother her hunger, and it felt nicer on an empty stomach, but it also made her nauseous.
Passing by a woman who did a double take, before hurriedly keeping her face down, Seutervoinen led Koitar to the gym. It was a ramshackle, decrepit thing on the outside. Koitar hesitated, stopping in her tracks, wondering if she was about to stumble headlong into a situation far worse than whatever the drunkard had planned for her. Seutervoinen noticed her hesitation, and let go.
“What's wrong? You stopped…” He paused, taking her in. Koitar felt as if she was being scrutinized. Why? She felt a little sick, sure, but anyone would feel out of sorts after dismembering a body…
His expression softened somewhat, and Koitar realized she was shaking. She opened her mouth to reassure him that she was fine, but no words came out.
“The outside is a front. It looks much better on the inside. Want me to go in first?”
As if to prove her sincerity, the street fighter shrugged off her jacket, revealing warm skin and a black tank top. Koitar averted her eyes from Seutervoinen’s bare arms and her bust.
This became significantly harder when Seutervoinen offered to let her wear it, and Koitar nodded without thinking, as he began to pull the jacket around her instead. Why does he have to be taller?
The jacket was warmer than it looked, lined with wool. Koitar could smell her cologne and, oddly enough, a hint of chlorine. Of course, it was overpowered by the stench of gore, but aside from that, it wasn't a bad smell. It reminded her of the aquarium.
Seutervoinen appeared not to have noticed her reverie, and walked into the gym. After fighting with herself for a moment, she cautiously followed him in. He hadn't been lying; the interior was a far cry from the dilapidated state of the exterior.
Lights studded the ceiling, illuminating the inside. It seemed the Foul (or whoever ran the gym for him) spared no expense. Koitar did not even know the names of some of the machines and workout paraphernalia lying around. As it was late at night, the gym was mostly empty. The man sitting at the front had dozed off, drooling over the table. She quietly pitied him– she doubted Surtalogi would take kindly to him when he found out, especially since the two of them were trailing blood and god knows what else on the nice hardwood floor.
The showers were in a similar state. Seutervoinen took her spare clothing out of her locker, passing it over to Koitar. The casual kindness of such a gesture shocked her for a moment. Next, she pulled out a paper clip and, after some rummaging, managed to crack open one of the other lockers. Swiping some poor sod’s clothes out for herself, she gestured for Koitar to follow her.
“Will nobody notice?” Koitar ventured a question.
“No cameras. They prefer not to hand incriminating evidence to the authorities on a silver platter.”
Koitar turned away, slowly peeling her clothes off. What she really wanted to do was soak in a jacuzzi for the rest of the day, without anyone else around. She was pretty sure Yohualli was taking care of some difficult work herself. If they were lucky, Nabu would get in a party mood soon and rent out the entire Goth Grand Hotel again for a week, and she could finally catch up on some sleep.
Seutervoinen was quicker, stripping efficiently. Realizing she really did not want to be left alone, Koitar picked up the pace, and the two of them stepped in adjacent showers at about the same time.
The water came out hot, and she bit back a yelp as it scalded her flesh, turning the faucet back. Closing her eyes, she slumped against the door, letting the water sluice down her body, washing the rot away. Her breath came out in puffs. Inhale. Exhale.
Slowly, the nausea seeped away, the bile that had crept up her throat settling back into her stomach. The cold, repressed dread she had locked up when Seutervoinen said he would have done worse came back, now that she had given it room in her mind, but she let it melt away under the sound of water hitting the floor, flowing into the drain.
It was fine. She had been through worse, and this time nothing had even happened.
She heard the sound of the shower turning on in the adjacent cubicle, heard Seutervoinen’s husky sigh of relief as the warm water hit his skin. Unconsciously, she pressed her thighs together. The cubicle felt hot in a different way. It's just the steam. I feel lightheaded.
“So, what are you going to do after we get out?” Seutervoinen’s voice was sunny. It wasn’t infectious.
“I’ll just go home.”
“And? Butchering a man is hard work. I’d treat myself after that.”
Koitar squeezed her eyes tighter shut. And she had thought she was insane.
“You and my sister would make a good pair.”
Seutervoinen laughed. Koitar resisted the urge to shove a fist between her legs.
“I think I’ll pass, no offense to your sister. Your music is my favorite.”
Koitar did not know what to say to that. “You’re too kind. Thank you.”
She could hear the honesty in her voice. “It’s true. You really should do something for yourself. Even if you had no trouble knifing that guy, you must have been shaken up.”
Was she? It wasn't the first time she had killed someone, but it was the first time she had been startled into doing so. “I…”
“You didn’t answer me when I asked if you were okay.”
“...I killed a man in front of you?”
“He deserved it, so I don’t really mind,” Seutervoinen replied cheerfully.
Oh, Koitar thought, she’s definitely crazy.
“You appeared quite upset about what I did for a living half an hour ago.”
“I'm showering, so I feel better now. Seeing you actually get your hands dirty without hesitation may have improved my initial impression of you.”
“You may be insane.”
The soap holder was empty. Koitar silently prayed that her mother would crush the Foul's entire operation like an ant beneath their shoe. She had already disliked the idea of using soap that dozens of men had touched more. Even more distasteful was the idea of furthering her debt to Seutervoinen. Swallowing her nerves, Koitar knocked on the shared wall.
“May I borrow your soap? There is none in mine.”
“Sure. Hope you don't mind that I already used it, though.”
A hand popped out from the top of the cubicle wall, and she held her hands in front of it. “Ready,” she said quietly. The soap dropped, landing safely in her hands.
“Thank you,” Koitar muttered again, feeling foolish. Seutervoinen made a noise of acknowledgement.
She rubbed the soap along her arms, trying not to think of how it had touched the handsome fighter’s body first. Here she was, a grown woman, worrying over the equivalent of an indirect kiss. Seutervoinen probably didn't even think twice about it.
The thought made her feel gross, and she consciously avoided cleaning between her legs. Why did she always have to overthink everything? It was as if her mind enjoyed tormenting her with her own perversity. Her eyes felt hot. Wiping them, she rinsed herself off.
I should get out and dress myself first.
Koitar shut the faucet off. The towel was abrasive on her skin. Rubbing her skin raw made it worse, but self-flagellation was the only thing that brought her peace when she worked herself up like this.
She quickly pulled on Seutervoinen's spare clothes. They smelt the same as his sweater, with an added hint of sweat. She felt dizzy.
May as well bag up the clothes. They might go straight in the trash, but Seutervoinen’s sweater was clearly of good quality, now that she'd worn it herself. The kind that was worth paying to get deep cleaned.
After a few more minutes, the other faucet shut off, and Seutervoinen held out a hand for his towel and clothes. Koitar passed him the spares, quickly letting go as if they had burnt her. “Thanks,” came the muffled reply. Koitar said nothing.
Soon, Seutervoinen came out, looking fresh and clean. Damp hair stuck to her cheeks, which were flushed from the heat. A few stray droplets of water traveled down her neck, which Koitar studiously avoided looking at. She was smiling. Apparently hot showers really could save an entire day for some people. Looking at her, Koitar would never have thought she had made idle conversation while dismembering a body not half an hour ago.
Seutervoinen picked up her discarded sweater, rummaging inside the pockets. She pulled out gold-framed glasses, slipping them on, tucking the chain behind her ear. Koitar would have pulled at her collar, if she wasn’t wearing Seutervoinen’s workout clothes.
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you wore glasses. They suit you very well.”
“You look cute in my clothes too,” Seutervoinen replied smoothly. “Oh, you packed up my things too? Thanks.”
Picking up her bag, she opened the door to the locker room, slipping out. Koitar followed her feeling as if she were paparazzi trailing after their next meal ticket. Is this what people felt around her?
Strangely, though Seutervoinen was a liability, Koitar felt slightly more at ease. The queasiness remained, but it was nice being with someone on equal ground.
“It's late,” Seutervoinen commented. “You shouldn't be alone at this hour. I'll walk you to the bus– oh, but I suppose you can have someone to drive you.”
Leaving behind the gym, Koitar turned to her as the door shut. “What about you? It cannot be any safer for you either.”
Seutervoinen put her free hand in her pocket. “I live a little far off from here– gotta take the subway.” She sighed, her frosty breath curling out into the air, fading away.
“The nearest station is half an hour away from here.”
“Sounds like you did your research.”
Unamused, Koitar took his hand. It was still warm from the shower, though it would soon cool off. “Come with me. I'll call and have you dropped off.”
He stared at her, before retracting his hand, nails catching on her palm. She winced. “... No offense, but I don't really want your family to know my address.”
Koitar was insistent. “It can’t be any worse than walking out here alone. At least tell me what station you'd like to be dropped off at.”
Seutervoinen looked away. It was clear she was struggling with indecision. Koitar could not understand her. As far as she was concerned, a heated limousine was the obvious choice. It was mid-autumn, and the both of them were dressed only in tank tops and thick sweatpants. Hyperborea already had a reputation for being unbearably cold, and tourism dropped considerably during the winter months, despite being the tourist hotspot of this part of the world.
“...If you insist.”
Koitar nursed her coffee, waiting for it to cool. Her companion, had no such qualms, sipping from his cup as soon as it was handed to him. Seutervoinen had insisted on paying, which their driver took with no small amount of umbrage. Koitar eventually intervened once they pulled into the drivethrough, letting him pay at least for himself, but she couldn’t deny that watching them argue had been entertaining.
(She was also a tiny bit disappointed that Seutervoinen didn't seem impressed by the sleek limousine.)
Her stomach had settled somewhat, since the car had arrived. No longer roiling in anxiety, she fancied she could at least keep a drink down. Of course, now that she felt better, she could no longer occupy herself with her nausea, or her own spiraling thoughts. That left Seutervoinen to bear the brunt of her attention.
“What will you do when you get home?” she asked. Seutervoinen raised an eyebrow.
“It’s one in the morning.”
Feeling her cheeks warm up, Koitar turned to the window. “So it is. I hadn’t noticed.”
“Do you normally stay up this long? That’s not healthy, you know.”
Koitar drew patterns on the damp window. “Work is work. It can’t be helped.” She trailed a finger across the misty glass, into the shape of a six-pointed star. It was cool to the touch, and she would have laid her forehead against it if she did not have company.
“If you’re going to stay up all night, at least do something fun,” Seutervoinen argued. Koitar turned to face her. “You have to give your mind time to unwind after a hard day, or it’ll break down.”
Koitar was not convinced. Why would he care? She turned back. Seutervoinen continued. “Isn’t there anything you like to do?”
Unbidden, her dream in those early morning hours came back to her. Cold water lapping at their intertwined limbs. Light shimmering on the floor, reflected by the tanks. Colorful anemone twisting their tentacles, ensnaring tiny fish as stingrays passed by.
“I wanted to go to the aquarium with my father,” she murmured, “but they said no.”
She splayed her hand across the window, feeling the cold seep into her skin, imagining it was a starfish. Her very own aquarium.
“You can still go by yourself.”
Koitar heard him place his cup into the holder before rooting through his bag, the soft crinkling of plastic and the quiet rustling of his dirty clothes. She turned around, just in time for him to pull his hand free of the black hole of tightly packed clothing. Tightly clutched in his hand was an aquarium ticket. He held it out to her. “I don’t remember where I found it, but it should still be valid. You should go tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy it more than I would.”
She stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. “If I wanted, I could buy the aquarium with a snap of my fingers.”
Rolling her eyes, Seutervoinen turned away, though she kept her hand outstretched. “Just take it, would you? Besides, you sound like the kind of person who needs permission to have fun. Consider this mine.”
Phanes’ eldest, most obedient daughter surveyed the street fighter’s hand with a suspicion that her parent had drilled into her from youth. “What are you expecting in return?”
“Nothing.”
“Not even a smile?”
“Well, if you’re offering…”
Koitar huffed, turning back to the window. “Keep it. You really are infuriating.”
If only she’d brought her earbuds. She did not have to look back to know that Seutervoinen was still smiling at her, offering her the ticket with no strings attached. After Koitar had blackmailed her into helping her cover up a murder, had admitted quite freely that it was something she partook in often, the other still wanted to see her happy? Leaning her face against her palm, she closed her eyes.
Cloth rustled as Seutervoinen settled back into his seat. Occasionally, he would sip from his coffee, uncaring that it was still scalding hot. It was stupid, the height of folly, but she imagined her own hand in his as she walked through the aquarium. His hands were warm, she remembered. Soft, and uncalloused, despite his unorthodox side job.
The more she turned it over in her head, the less it made sense. Seutervoinen had tried to save her from that man. For her kindness, she was rewarded with the implicit threat of prison if she did not help her get rid of him. She had taken up fighting in Surtalogi’s ring to support another, so clearly money was tight, and she probably couldn’t afford a stint in jail.
After all that, he still wanted to give her his ticket?
Ridiculous.
…But I still want to believe in it.
It was utterly risible, how badly Koitar wanted to believe that there was someone out there who wanted her to be happy, in spite of her flaws. She traced her fingers upon the glass, curving inward, laying out the shape of a heart. The steamed glass left traces of moisture upon her fingertips. If the very being who had birthed her wanted something from her, what were the chances that this total stranger did not?
She filled in the heart with her thumb. Tomorrow, she would wake up and mock herself for this. She would tell Nabu, who would laugh at her gullibility. Yohualli, who would shake her head as she bounced Nicole upon her lap. Sybilla, who would sigh dreamily and call it true love. Zibai, who would wave her off as she quietly tended to her flowers.
Koitar would nod along and chuckle at her own foolishness, and resign yet another dream to the fate of the weeds in her sisters’ gardens.
What would Seutervoinen say?
Koitar wanted to know.
She turned to Seutervoinen, who was rubbing his scorched lip ruefully. “Would you go with me?”
Seutervoinen blinked. “It’s one in the morning,” she repeated, turning to face her.
“That is not a problem for me,” insisted Koitar. “I want to go with someone. No,” she said, more to herself than to the other, “not someone. I want to go with you. It has to be you.”
“Well, I’m– I’m flattered,” came the stammered response. “But, uh, my friend–”
Koitar gave her a pleading glance, and her voice petered out. As expected; there was only one person who could resist when Koitar turned up the charm.
(Also, the road was uneven, and she caught Seutervoinen’s gaze straying down from her face before snapping back up more than once.)
He looked conflicted, so she decided she may as well take initiative once more.
“Take us to the aquarium.”
“...Am I being kidnapped?”
“Excuse me, we’re closed for the–!” The worker stopped sweeping, eyes widening into saucers. Koitar supposed she couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t everyday that Teyvat’s most beloved celebrity walked into your workplace well past closing, dressed in sweatpants without an accompanying entourage. Most of the time, Koitar found this reaction to be troublesome, but she could not deny that it now worked in her favor.
She beat the woman to the punch, smiling sweetly. “I apologize for the trouble, but I have… urgent business, here. Would you kindly turn the cameras off, please? It will be our little secret.”
Evidently, all you needed to gruesomely murder your companion in an aquarium after hours without leaving a trace was a photocard, a pen, and a willingness to sign autographs. After wrestling Seutervoinen away from the till and signing the woman’s bracelet with a flourish, she pulled him along, past the main foyer.
“I’m being kidnapped, by the way,” Seutervoinen commented casually, but the woman took no notice, gazing at the photocard as if it were her own lover depicted within.
The first room was tastefully lit; walls painted in soothing dark blue, floors carpeted in fuzzy black. An extremely large skeleton lay suspended from the roof, each rib bone larger than a dinner table. Seutervoinen appeared to take keen interest in it, for allegedly, the bones belonged to a real Hydro Dragon. Koitar happened to know it was true– it was her mother who had generously donated them, after all. That had been years ago, when they first took her.
Seutervoinen did not seem to enjoy that tidbit. “The dragons are still alive today,” he muttered. “Seems a little grotesque to display the remains of one of their own like a regular exhibit.”
Koitar declined to argue with him. She wasn’t even sure if she disagreed. Squeezing his hand, she led him further inside.
At the northern end, there was a large tank, spanning the length of a whole hall. Sparse lighting allowed for the glowing aquamarine tank to cast shimmering, iridescent reflections across the floor. Fat flounders and long sturgeons swam about, poking their snouts through the holes in the coral reef that covered the ground. Koitar pressed herself up against the tank. “It's cold,” she murmured.
Seutervoinen joined her, placing the heel of her palm upon it. She said nothing, but by the grin on her lips, Koitar surmised that she was enjoying herself as well.
There was a fish that seemed to follow the motion of her hand, swimming up to her. She traced formless shapes upon the cool glass, and it chased her fingers, like an overexcited puppy. “It likes you,” said Seutervoinen.
“It's only a fish.”
“Can't fish like anything?”
Koitar decided not to dignify that with a response. Next over was the tall, cylindrical kelp tank, which stretched from the bottom of the aquarium to the uppermost floor. This exhibit Seutervoinen took special interest in. “I wonder if they keep any sea urchins in here? Left unchecked, they can devastate entire kelp forests, and leave the surrounding area a wasteland. This tank is a bit too small for otters, though.”
“Otters eat sea urchins?”
“You sound surprised.”
Straining her eyes, Koitar saw no urchins, nor otters for that matter. “They would not be my first choice for dinner.”
“All the more reason to thank them for maintaining the ocean’s health at the cost of their palate, then.” Seutervoinen’s voice grew quiet, and Koitar shot her a curious glance. “Ni– my friend once told me,” she began softly, “that if humans had predators, the dragons would not be on the verge of extinction today. Much of Natlan’s soil is depleted of phlogiston today because of us.”
“Oh.”
It was rather kind of Seutervoinen to mince words by assigning blame to humanity as a whole. Koitar knew exactly who was responsible for the once lush, fertile soil of Natlan decaying into dust. Phanes did not exactly hide their involvement in the many ecological ‘disasters’ that plagued the southern half of Teyvat, though Koitar knew it was ultimately for the sake of progress.
Somehow, she suspected bringing that up would not go over well with him. Instead, she gestured at the tank up ahead. Colorful anemones dotted the underwater cliffs, forming a gradient stretching towards the bottom. It reminded Koitar of a garden of flowers.
“Look,” she urged Seutervoinen, “there’s one stuck to the glass.”
The unfortunate straggler was a brilliant green, with purple tipped tentacles. It left slimy residue on the surface of the tank as it slowly inched down. An idea occurred to Koitar, and she let go of Seutervoinen’s hand. “Stay here. I want to take a picture.”
Seemingly amused, Seutervoinen obeyed, watching as Koitar stepped back. “As long as you don’t post it. I’d prefer not to attract too much attention.”
Blue light enveloped Seutervoinen as she leaned against the tank, arm awkwardly bending to frame the little anemone clinging to the glass. Harsh though it was, the glow only accentuated the contemplative expression on her face. Her hair had been haphazardly tied out of the shower, and had begun to come loose, covering her shoulders like liquid silver.
Koitar considered the street fighter in her entirety, finding that she decidedly did not like the idea of sharing this moment. “I will not.”
After snapping the photo, she showed it to Seutervoinen, who hummed amiably. “You’re a good photographer.”
“I have a wonderful muse.” No sooner did the words come out than Koitar regretted them, turning away. How could she say something so brazen? But Seutervoinen only flashed another winning smile at her– she found herself once again questioning how a modelling agency hadn’t snapped him up yet.
Further down the hall was the underwater tunnel, one of the sole exhibits that Koitar remembered from that trip long ago. It was the pride and joy of the aquarium, and probably the most expensive exhibit to maintain. Thousands of polyps lined the bottom of the tank walls, forming complex structures for the pleasure of the aquatic lifeforms inside. A coral megapolis spanned the right side of the tank, which was far dimmer and cramped than the open, well-lit expanse of the left.
Schools of fish swam by, unmolested by the nurse shark that prowled the leftmost side. Koitar actually gasped when a large stingray passed over the top of the tank, exposing its soft, white belly. She was additionally startled by the turtle popping up as she had her face pressed to the glass, and she stumbled back, right into Seutervoinen.
“Sorry,” said Seutervoinen, as if she were the one who’d intruded upon the other. “No, I am,” Koitar shot back, hurriedly extricating herself from her personal space. Her cheeks felt hot, and she hoped the other hadn't noticed.
In this manner the two passed through the aquarium, shyly dancing around the topic at hand as they made idle conversation, almost-but-not-quite touching, until at last Koitar stopped by one section.
“The jellyfish are my favorite,” she said.
Ambient music played in the exhibit. They drifted throughout the tanks, propelled by unseen currents, pink frills trailing through the water without a care. No thought was spared for their surroundings, nor for their kin whom they unintentionally snared with their tentacles. Only the dutiful pumping of their bells separated them from the dead.
“They are stunning,” Seutervoinen agreed. She was right, but that was not why Koitar loved them.
“It must be nice to be a jellyfish,” Koitar said softly. “Having your life dictated only by the waves, mindless, unable to care for how it pushes and pulls at your body.”
She placed a hand upon the frosty glass, spreading her fingers. It was cool to the touch. “How I envy them. If only I, too…”
“...couldn’t feel?”
Curiosity bled through Seutervoinen’s voice. Koitar took a deep breath.
“I suppose. To me, my father is the ocean.” Koitar looked at Seutervoinen cautiously. Her expression was curiously blank. Calculating.
Moon jellies drifted behind her, casting a luminescent glow.
“They gave me my life, and I live according to their rules. It’s a simple, comforting existence. I do not have to understand them, and they do not need to explain themselves to me.”
Koitar paused. A glance beside her only showed Seutervoinen with that same, nondescript expression. How could she go about explaining it?
With jellyfish, of course.
“Jellyfish only know the ocean. When they wash up on shore, and people poke and prod at their body, they fail to understand what is going on, only reacting to stimuli. Eventually, the waves lap at the shoreline, pulling them back. The ocean will always take them home.”
“The jellyfish doesn’t mind this treatment, because it has no mind. They don’t feel scared, or miss the ocean.”
Her hand curled into a fist upon the cool glass. “I just thought… if I were like that, unfeeling, unthinking, it would be easier.”
Another hand laid itself over hers. Compared to the frigid tank, this hand radiated heat.
“Well,” Seutervoinen cleared his throat, and Koitar was suddenly taken aback by how his voice grated on her nerves. “You’re as pretty as a jellyfish, so that’s one step down.”
One of the sea nettle jellyfish broke free of the tangled mess of limbs, drifting apart from the others.
Koitar pulled her hand away, wishing she had said nothing. The delicate moment was shattered. “Thank you,” she said anyway, and the words tasted bitter on her tongue.
They stared, each taking the other in, Koitar, with rekindled wariness, Seutervoinen, with confusion. Understanding slowly dawned upon her, and she tilted her head. Something a little bit like pity mixed with empathy filled her expression, and apprehension roiled in Koitar’s stomach.
Propelled by some unseen force, one moon jelly followed after the freed sea nettle.
“No,” Seutervoinen said quietly. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
She turned back to the tank, and Koitar let out a breath she did not know she had been holding, suddenly relieved at the lack of eyes upon her. “It’s not my place to say this, but… I used to feel the same way.”
Koitar didn’t dare look back at him. In front of her, the moon jelly drew close to the sea nettle. “Truthfully, I don’t think you’re much like a jellyfish at all, though.”
“Hm?”
“Jellyfish can’t make decisions for themselves. But you decided to come here, and you decided to take me with you. You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”
“...”
“You smoke, even though it doesn’t line up with the image your father has painstakingly crafted of you. You disobeyed your mother by telling all this to me… just as I’m betraying my friend’s wishes by talking to you.”
“...So what?”
“Jellyfish don’t have the capacity for the kindness you’ve shown me.”
The moon jelly jolted, stung by the sea nettle’s tentacles. But it did not move away, trailing cautiously after the drifting nettle, careful not to haphazardly invade its space once more. Seutervoinen’s voice was solemn.
“You are not a heartless doll.”
Needless to say, by the time Koitar sat in the abandoned food court for dinner (breakfast?), the mood was sufficiently changed. She was left to brood over Seutervoinen’s words, but the silence between them was too loud. The street fighter did not elaborate. It was an odd feeling.
She… understood what Seutervoinen meant, where she was coming from. But the lingering aftertaste of humiliation, the knowledge that she had revealed too much remained, souring her kind words.
Something moved in her peripheral vision. Blinking, Koitar sat up straight as Seutervoinen slid into the seat opposite her, sliding a menu across the table towards her. Reading it, she frowned. Naberius would have a heart attack if she even caught Koitar in the vicinity of some of these items.
“Could you get me the salad?”
Seutervoinen’s eyes raked across her, as if the question had made him see her in a new light, and she melted with shame into her seat. Thankfully, he made no comment, and after rummaging through the fridge and finding his own meal to stick in the microwave, he came back, juggling a salad and a poutine.
“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. How many times had she said that today? Seutervoinen nodded, sitting back down.
Koitar ate lethargically, chewing for long periods of time. It was not that she wasn’t hungry– truthfully, she was starving. She simply had no appetite. Eating held about as much appeal to her as breathing did. Possibly less. Naberius did not scold her for breathing wrong, though she probably wanted to.
So engrossed was she in the mindless maintenance of her body, that she stared blankly at the fork Seutervoinen held out to her for several seconds. When it registered, she turned red.
“I already stole some of yours,” Seutervoinen said shamelessly, “so in the interest of fairness, you should try some of mine.”
“I don’t mind,” Koitar retorted hastily. Seutervoinen wagged her fork at her in response, so Koitar acquiesced, in the interest of not getting stabbed.
“Pretty good, isn’t it?” The street fighter looked unreasonably proud, considering all she had done was microwave a tin left in the frozen food section.
Koitar chewed. It tasted better than the wet salad, that she could confirm. “It is,” she agreed, reaching over for more. Seutervoinen smiled triumphantly.
The last time she had eaten anything resembling junk food that wasn’t gum or the chocolates Yohualli snuck into her pocket was– I don’t even remember. The food was filling, more so than the pathetic looking salad. By the time the two of them had polished off Seutervoinen’s meal, Koitar actually felt quite full.
(She was not going to think about how she had eaten more of Seutervoinen’s meal than he had, or that she had never actually caught him stealing from hers. She was not.)
Seutervoinen reached out to her with a napkin, before halting. Koitar looked questioningly at her, and she turned her face away. Was it her imagination, or were the street fighter’s cheeks turning red now too? “There are still some crumbs on your mouth,” the other explained.
Though Seutervoinen would not look at her, Koitar could hear the mortification in her voice as she continued. “Earlier, I overstepped. It wasn’t my place, and I suspect I made it worse by continuing. For that, I’m sorry.” She pressed the napkin into Koitar’s hands.
Koitar accepted it. “Thank you. I understood what you meant.”
She hesitated, before adding, “I wouldn’t have minded if you… you know,” she finished lamely, dabbing at her lips in lieu of an explanation. Seutervoinen beamed at her, so she supposed it got the message across.
A yawn bubbled up from her throat, but she clamped it down. She had already cracked before Seutervoinen multiple times today. No way was she going to be the first to show sleepiness.
“This is only the halfway point. However, I’m afraid it’s getting a bit late for you,” she remarked. Unfortunately, Seutervoinen seemed to be a born and bred night owl, and did not look the least bit tired. Vexing.
“I’m ready to go when you are,” she replied, stretching. Koitar once again averted her eyes, ignoring how a hint of midriff peeked out from her top as she lifted her arms. Sliding the trash into the garbage cans and setting the trays out for collection, they left the food court.
On impulse, Koitar took his hand once more. This time, he did not pull away, and his fingers curled around her own. Stingrays clicked from above, keeping rhythm alongside the gurgling water of their tank. Soft beeping from the life support systems joined the aquatic symphony, as they walked. “The exit is through the gift shop,” Koitar said. “We can touch the rays before they go, although I suspect they will likely be sleeping at this time of day.”
“It’s worth a try.”
The stingray pool was located on the upper floor, near the gift shop. Plushies hung in droves on the outside. As Koitar had feared, most of the stingrays were asleep, lying flat as pancakes upon the floor. Sparse ripples upon the water’s surface indicated only the bare minimum of movement, and no dust stirred up from the rocky ground of the tank.
Koitar peered over, and frowned. “Hold me?” she asked.
Seutervoinen looked surprised, but obliged, wrapping an arm around her waist and following her as she leaned over the railing. A warm hand pressed into her side. One ray had not yet succumbed to exhaustion; a young one, if its size was any indication. It was shy, and watched them from a distance.
Koitar was about to give up, when Seutervoinen made a gentle clicking sound with her tongue. The proximity of the noise startled her, but the fighter kept a firm yet gentle hold on her. Repeating it thrice more, the young ray perked up, cautiously making its way over.
“Don’t stroke her spine or tail,” Seutervoinen said. Though her voice was soothing, the closeness of it made Koitar’s heart beat fast. Her breath was hot on her throat, a curious contrast to the cool chain of her glasses. “They like to be pet on the wings.”
Not trusting her own voice, Koitar obeyed. The back of the ray was slimy, and it lingered by her hand, letting her trace her fingers over smooth skin. Ice cold water mouthed at her wrist, but the person behind her acted as a living furnace, sapping away the chill.
“Don’t you want to touch them?” she asked. There was a pause.
After a moment, Seutervoinen responded, amused. “I have my hands full.” he tucked a strand of hair behind his neck. “Besides, I catch colds easily. I’ll let you be my proxy.”
“In acting parlance, that would make me your stunt double.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Usually, it is the other way around.”
“I’m not strong enough to be a stunt double, unfortunately.”
Sensing that no food was coming, the ray lost interest, leaving the edge of the pool. Shaking her head, Koitar followed its example, pushing herself away from the railing. “It is a mystery how you have stayed alive in Surtalogi’s sphere of influence for so long. Does he not value strength above all?
“I’m told it’s my pretty face, although I’m betting that my own patron is a bigger factor.”
There was no hint of a boast in his voice. He stated it as if it truly was a fact he had been told, that he wasn’t quite certain he accepted. At this point, Koitar was ready to believe he really felt that way.
“Your patron?”
“I mentioned him before, at the kelp tank. You wouldn’t know him. He’s not very high pro–....”
What had Seutervoinen said back at the kelp forests? She couldn’t recall the name, beyond that–
–that it started with an N.
Seutervoinen’s friend, who sympathized with the dragons. Who was also his patron in Surtalogi’s underground fighting ring. Whom Seutervoinen needed to support…
Whom he was betraying, by being so kind to her.
Beside her, Seutervoinen had gone rigid, as the gears slowly clicked into place in her mind, as the weight of what he’d inadvertently revealed dawned on him.
Koitar silently apologized to Phanes in her mind. Right now, she did not care about work, or the identity of Seutervoinen’s mystery patron. She let those thoughts drift away in the cold, conditioned aquarium air. At this moment, they meant nothing to her.
The disappointment of her master seemed far, far away when she was with Seutervoinen.
Turning, she smiled at her, twisting a stray lock of hair around her finger. “I apologize,” she said sheepishly. “Speaking of the kelp forest brought to mind something funny my youngest sister once said, and I spaced out.”
“Oh? Do tell.” Her face had relaxed somewhat, but Koitar could still see the hint of a calculating mind behind it, gauging if she was telling the truth. It was unsettling. Strangely, she found that she also liked it, though it was currently not ideal.
“She once told me that she wanted to live in an overgrown forest as a witch, where unsuspecting travelers would stumble upon her, and be blessed or cursed depending on her mood. Kelp forests are a type of forest too– I imagined her expression should she come out of her lodge one day to find the ‘trees’ floating away, roots gnawed by sea urchins.”
No response, at first. Then, slowly, Seutervoinen cracked a smile.
“Okay,” he conceded, “that is pretty funny.”
For some reason, the praise from this stranger for a ridiculous anecdote Koitar made up on the spot meant more to her than the worldwide acclaim she received for her music. Now the smile was genuine, and if she led Seutervoinen to the gift shop with a little skip in her step, well, who would tattle on her? Certainly not Phanes, who would never find out about this tiny betrayal.
Sharing a secret with Seutervoinen alone made her happy.
The gift shop was not really that interesting; her sisters had a healthy amount of plushies scattered amidst their rooms, and Koitar herself had signed that woman’s photocard with a fountain pen that probably cost more than the entire store. After showing a passing interest in the glassware, she followed Seutervoinen, lazily ambling about. Candy dispensers lay at the right side, and Koitar briefly considered snagging a piece of gum, only to realize there were no hunger pangs to stave off.
Coins clinked against the counter as Seutervoinen ringed her own purchase up. Koitar turned to look too late, just missing the other person slipping something in her pocket. Not wanting to break the tenuous peace, she opted not to ask what it was. There was something very fragile about the moment, as they meandered about in the dark, finding each other only by the dim aquarium lighting.
Eventually, Koitar walked through the turnstiles, and the dull clank caught Seutervoinen’s attention. She waited, hiding a grin as he hurried after her, toting his slightly illegal purchase. “I actually live nearby,” he told her, after they exited the aquarium.
“Then I will walk you to the bus stop.”
Even now, cars lined the streets. There was never a sleeping moment in Hyperborea. Koitar and Seutervoinen went down the street at a leisurely pace, unbothered by the biting cold. For once, time and wind had decided to be kind, and they settled down at the stop with plenty of the former to spare before the next bus.
Neither used it to talk. Koitar leaned against Seutervoinen, who reciprocated without a word.
Autumn leaves formed whirlwinds in the air. The juncture between Seutervoinen’s neck and shoulder was as warm as a hearth, as she rested her head against her. A tiny part of Koitar hoped the bus would not come, though she didn’t know what she would do in such a situation.
Alas, even Laimelea’s patience had its limits. Though late, the bus eventually appeared on the horizon. She stood from the bench, pulling a drowsy Seutervoinen up.
“Sorry,” said the other, rubbing her bleary eyes. “Let me just…” she rooted around in her pockets, eyes widening. “Oh shit.”
Koitar’s content smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“I used up my bus fare in the gift shop.”
“That’s fine,” Koitar said, trying not to laugh. The bus approached. “I’ll pay.”
Seutervoinen shook her head. “I can walk,” she insisted. Seeing Koitar’s unimpressed expression, she sheepishly added, “it’s not right that you should pay for something I did on your behalf.” The wind rustled through the trees.
“Hm?”
As the bus crawled to a shuddering stop, sending leaves scattering in the dark, the headlights illuminated Seutervoinen’s figure once more. Framed by the intense light, dust motes flying in the air, Koitar almost missed Seutervoinen pull out the stingray plushie from her pocket.
She pushed it into Koitar’s hands. “For you.”
It was soft to the touch, covered in grey fur. Koitar turned it over, running her fingers over the fluffy white stomach, brushing up against the mouth flap, the crinkled little eyes. She looked up at Seutervoinen.
He was smiling giddily, as if he was the recipient of a gift instead of the giver. Tucking the chain hanging off his glasses behind his ear like a shy maiden, he took one step onto the bus. “Sorry,” he called out, “By the time we came out I realized you’d want a jellyfi—”
Her eyes widened as Koitar pushed her further in, kissing her on the cheek. Following her on to the bus, Koitar looked up at Seutervoinen, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“I love it,” Koitar reassured her.
After Seutervoinen got off at his stop, Koitar watched him grow smaller and smaller in the distance, before disappearing from view altogether. She sank back in her seat, closing her eyes. Despite the cold night air seeping into the vehicle, she felt warm and fuzzy inside, as if she had stepped headlong into a furnace, or perhaps a pair of welcoming arms. How long had it been since she’d had fun on her own terms? Since that day Phanes took her to the aquarium, so long ago?
Koitar hung out with her little sisters. She went to Sybilla’s orchestras, sat at Nabu’s theatres, drank Yohualli’s godawful mushroom wine, and attended Zibai’s silk weaving classes. She did these all because her sisters asked her to, but she had never once invited them herself. There was nowhere to take them, no place that she herself particularly wanted to go.
… though she did dream.
Ah, but she was getting ahead of herself. Soon, her stop would be coming up. Stretching, she stood up, hanging on to the support pole, one arm wrapped around the stingray. She felt jittery, as if someone had filled her spine with fizzling soda. From happiness or nerves, she knew not, but she had a pretty good idea.
Reaching into her pockets, she found… lint, and two mora. More importantly, she did not find her lighter.
Koitar remembered Seutervoinen on the ground behind a corpse, fingers clutching on to something.
Next time I see her, I’ll have to ask her for it back, she thought, and smiled.
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