I'd forgotten to ask the two about Zuwaigani before we parted, but I was still beginning to feel a little played by Saga.

But the books I had in a bag hanging off my arm, and the relentlessly happy thoughts about the two I'd just met hanging off my heart made me feel like someone completely different. It was strange, how such a relatively small thing...meeting two people I thought I'd never see again, having a normal conversation with them, browsing books, drinking tea...how it could change your entire state of mind.

The last time I'd felt like this was under Micaiah's intense scrutiny. His advances on me, I had to assume, because he wasn't around to explain himself anymore, were motivated by pure scientific curiosity. I guess it seemed natural that someone with a strong interest in Exhumans would wind up in the intelligence offices of the XPCA.

But his invasive questioning and blanket acceptance of me had made me uncomfortable and wary more than anything. His willingness to look past what I was in pursuit of how I functioned wasn't how normal people operated. Tyler and Kiera had both been reserved, and so their acceptance of me felt all the more genuine.

It felt good. Stupidly good. Intoxicating, almost. Was this what being normal felt like? Normal was amazing!

I was halfway done with the building's circuit when I came upon another set of doors leading out, and elevators, so I went up a level to see if anything was up there. Immediately, I realized my mistake when I saw the hallway up here was narrower and carpeted, and instead of glass most of the walls were just softly-painted drywall. Offices from here up, presumably.

I was turning to go back before my elevator left me, when I caught a glimpse through one of the windows and hesitated. It wasn't Tyler's back this time, but it was a familiar sight.

From here I could see over the town, and between the trees and many of the other taller buildings, the view seemed so...almost recognizable. As the elevator dinged shut, I stuck my arm out, and then went back in, but instead of going down, I went up.

Four floors, the top of this building, and from here I could see everything, once I'd found a window. Out in the distance in every direction, the familiar view of the foothills rising out of an endless suburban sprawl. But I knew these foothills. I knew that peak, Mount Baldy, still capped with a little bit of snow. And if I had a clear view and the weather permitted, LA would be barely visible on the horizon, indistinguishable from the other rising and falling structures balanced on the topography at this distance.

It made too much sense to be running into my classmates to be anywhere else, but...I was home. I knew this building, from a distance. We'd driven past it on the way to games over towards Riverside. I never thought I'd have any reason to go inside it. Hell, I barely had a reason to be inside it now.

And yet, here I was.

I peered and stared through the windows, probably freaking out the people in those offices plenty, but unable to get my fill. I'd been moving around so much these past few months, just being able to look out a window and pick out landmarks I knew was a novelty I hadn't realized I'd missed. I looked out and saw my old school, stores we'd been to countless times, my neighborhood, out there.

I was replaying the paths in my mind, how point A connected to point B, visualizing the whole trip and all the landmarks along it, and realizing...this wasn't anything I used to do. I always had Coach or one of my parents chaperoning me around, navigation wasn't a skill I'd needed until I began living on my own, and I'd just picked it up without realizing.

And in that one small realization, staring down at my old home, I began to realize just how much I'd changed. This city was the same as I'd ever known it. People like Tyler and Kiera were still here, doing their lives, splashing around in the wading pool, inch-by-inch.

And I had been thrown out there doing a front crawl with waves pulling me under, fighting just to stay alive. I'd survived it, somehow, though I couldn't be sure I'd survive much longer, but now I was here, in the shallows, wondering just when I'd gotten so good at staying afloat.

My eye was drawn away from the view through it, and to the reflection on the glass and the familiar face looking back at me. I couldn't think of a single feature that was the same as when I'd left. My hair was longer, I had been more solid and beefy, now more streamlined in my musculature. My eyes...didn't even look like they belonged to the same person.

The boy who'd lived here had never taken a life. Never made love to a woman, or two. Never caught his own supper or skinned an animal or foraged for tubers that looked just like roots. Certainly never gone on a military operation, or been in charge of anything more important than a gym bag or a set of plays.

Saga wanted me to come out here and find a connection with the world. A reason to fight for, she'd said. Everything I'd seen so far might have qualified -- the base satisfaction of eating something delicious, the social foundation of my own species, the intellectual stimulation of finding a compelling book, or the memories of a place I'd grown up, and a world worth protecting, for all the things it did for me before I was cast out.

But somehow, it was this stupid reflection of myself which, viewed through all of that context, had captured me the most. I'd had something of a bad relationship with mirrors lately, and was due for a dozen years of bad luck, and had never been too keen on staring at myself, but now, I just...couldn't stop.

Maybe because I habitually avoided mirrors, as I found all sorts of new things about myself. I had a hair in my eyebrows which stuck straight up like a tiny horn. My hair part wasn't perfectly even. My eyelashes seemed way too long for a dude's face.

But my eyes kept getting caught on their own reflection. There was just something else there in them I didn't recognize. Maybe I had crazy eyes from obsessing over Dragon. Or maybe there were hidden depths to me because I was a brilliant XPCA Strike Lead...formerly. Whatever it was, there seemed to be more to them than just the brown and green I'd always seen.

And my guess was, it was this. It was me, being able to stand looking at myself in the mirror. Such a stupid, small step to take. So normal, yet something I hadn't done in forever. The self-actualization to be able to take a step back and look at myself and not just turn away in disgust.

It's not something I thought I might have been able to do this morning. I certainly wouldn't have willingly spent the time away from watching Dragon fight. I shook my head at the top of this round building feeling like more than ascending it, I'd somehow ascended myself.

Had Saga known all of this was going to happen? Should I be scared that AEGIS had competition in most exhaustive schemer? I doubted it but...what did I know. I was just standing up here having a moment. She probably just got lucky.

I turned away from my vantage point and was back in the elevator before my stomach sank in a way that had nothing to do with my descent. Or maybe...the mental nudge she'd given me before I left wasn't just that. She had been working on becoming sneakier with her powers. It was possible I'd been predisposed to have these convenient epiffanies before I set one foot out here.

I took a deep breath and let it go. Whether that was true or not, what I'd thought and felt were real to me. I could be angry at Saga when I got back, but for now...I couldn't argue with her results. I felt more collected, more connected, more me, than I had in a long time. And as I'd been learning with the XPCA, sometimes you just had to do bad things to do something good.

I finished my tour of the first floor, keeping an open mind as Saga had asked of me. Nothing else really jumped out at me, certainly nothing that seemed to point to our friend Zuwaigani. Before long, I was back at the start, my nose full of briny air and pressed against the glass outside the sushi aquarium.

It was, of course, very pretty, and fun to watch the fish go round and round in their tanks, most moving in one direction but a few strangely-minded outliers deciding to go against the flow. Those that did bumped heads with the majority often, it seemed, and I wondered if it hurt the fish to do so, if it was worth their stupid self-determination, for no visible purpose but to face the other way.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"You like to watch them," the barker said, giving me yet another heart attack. That was two from him on the day, they should really consider putting some bells on his uniform or something.

"They're pretty, I like how the light hits the water and then hits their scales. It's like each one of them is carrying around their own set of armor."

"It is a tough life, being a fish," the barker smiled. "The ocean is a large, dangerous place, filled with sharks. Armor is not such a bad idea. But not for these fish, they live very comfortable lives."

"Until they're harvested."

"Well...we're not raising them just for their looks, no. I might raise koi if we were."

"You don't ever stop and think it's sad, in a way?" I asked, realizing I was getting way too deep with this random dude in a headband and rubber apron. "They just spend their whole life swimming in circles in a little tank they'll never escape."

"The tanks at the farm are much larger," he said with a diplomatic smile. "And I do not think they are unhappy. They are just fish, for one. But they also spend all day doing whatever they please, with many others for company. They might be trapped, and someday doomed to become delicious freshly-served sashimi, but if they were free, would they live or die differently?"

Huh. I wasn't a fish expert, but that reply stumped me. Was just swimming along here any worse a life? Life was more certain here. Food was supplied, a healthy school was assured, diseases were presumably nonexistent. But also death. Also confinement, and conformity.

Yeah, it didn't really take me until that last word to know I wasn't just thinking about fish here. I was a freed fish now, able to choose my own pond or tank, and it would be the first time I was deciding the course of my own life...in...ever, really.

My life before felt like those fish spinning the wrong way in the tank. Secure, cramped, constantly running into others whose only crime was following the flow, yet who blocked my way entirely. Such was being an Exhuman within the XPCA. But I would be taken care of, managed, kept healthy and alive. And then, one day, probably killed.

The last week felt like being out in the wilds. Scrounging scraps, wandering aimlessly, settling down with whatever unexpected fascination caught my attention. Out there, I could find interesting creatures like Whitney, who moved in no current and swam in no school. But they were troubled waters, prowled by predators like Dragon.

And a thousand rivers, ponds, wetlands, deltas, lakes, and tributaries in between to torture the metaphor. Given all the water in the world, how was one man supposed to choose?

"You look like you have something on your mind. Perhaps a delicious meal of our freshly-made sushi or sashimi will help?" he goaded.

"Actually," I said, realizing. And then kinda wishing I un-realized, because it felt racist. "Uh, sorry...I'm actually here looking for Zuwaigani. Do you...know...where, uh…"

He smiled broadly, and if I'd just made some faux-pas, he let me go. "I do. This way, please."

I blinked, a little confused, but also a little pleased that it had apparently been as easy as asking the first person I'd seen in the building. He led me in through the wooden doorway, past some tables and into the aquarium.

"Here," he said, gesturing towards a pond. "Please wait a moment."

Then he left, leaving me with more questions than answers.

'Here', was a tank holding half a dozen spidery, spikey crabs, more brown than red, with long legs and two shorter claws that constantly snapped at the water in the tank to bring it into their mouthparts for inspection. They moved with ungainly slowness through the vegetation, and seemed intent on all piling up on top of each other and then fighting each other constantly, as though that corner was simply the best and the rest of the tank in all of its vacant, uncontested glory, was just a shitty consolation for whoever lost this melee.

They were bizarre. Prickly and ostensibly powerful, with the need to stick together yet constantly fight amongst themselves...I didn't see the point. I thought they might be happier alone on the other end of the tank, but I guess their stupid crab brains just couldn't comprehend it.

The barker came back and offered me a stick of something red and white and rubbery, about the size of my thumb. "Zuwaigani."

"Zuwaigani isn't...a person?" I asked stupidly.

He laughed. "These are zuwaigani, snow crab. A delicacy, only permitted to be harvested in specific seasons...unless you grow them in aquaculture. They are said to have the sweetest and most delicate flavor in their legs. Please, try, enjoy."

I did try. I did enjoy. I was very pleased. I did not expect it to be so sweet or fall apart in my mouth quite so much. The texture was pleasantly tough, enough to have a little resistance when I bit down, but still ready to crumble; springy, but succulent. The sweetness really caught me off-guard, with a salty-sweet-savory combination that felt more like some professional chef's concoction than some spiky critter's leg.

I'd had crab in things before, but not this fresh or good, apparently, and the morsel he'd offered me had gone from seeming generous, to completely insufficient after my tasting. The barker laughed at me as he caught me peeking to see if he had any more.

"If it has caught your eye, you know we do sell them here," he said. "Take some home to your family."

"Yeah, I might. Actually...I definitely will. Sorry, you've been really patient with me all day."

"Don't buy on my account. I hand out samples because I believe the product stands on its own. Don't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted, still salivating. "Do I...buy them raw? Or...by the pound or what?"

"You can do that," he said. "But if you are looking for a premium product, we also sell prepared boxes. Whole cooked crab, with bisque and sauces, in an insulated box to ensure freshness for up to five days. They make popular gifts."

"Yeah, let's do that," I said, thinking of the girls back home who had been worrying on my behalf. Then realizing that did nothing for AEGIS, I resolved to pop into the bookstore again on my way out.

And so I found myself outside, a box of crab heavy under one arm, and a bag of books in my other. I'd played Saga's game, I'd enjoyed her quest, and while I still felt like this was a relative waste of time with Dragon looming overhead, I couldn't argue that it wasn't a good experience.

I called Rito, taking in a final view of the tree-lined streets that reminded me of home, feeling the California sun, hot, even in the very start of spring.

She cleared her throat gently, with much more tact than the barker showed for sneaking up on people. My mind was still on the trees around me as I absently handed her the things I was carrying.

"Is this...um...for me?" she asked, confused.

"No, sorry...can you take these back? I've got one more thing I want to do here. I won't be too long."

"If you go too far, you'll be somewhere I haven't been yet, and I won't be able to get to you," she reminded me. "I don't want to let you be in like, danger again."

"It'll be fine. Just...something I need to look into. I'll call you again later, sorry."

"It's no problem," she said with a shake of her head, making her blonde ponytail dance. "Don't do anything dumb, though, or Lia's gonna be really mad at me. Um, and you."

"I won't. Thanks, Rito," I said, and turned. After a moment I turned back, expecting her to be nowhere, but instead found her still standing there watching me go, box of crab hugged to her chest.

I would be fine. I wasn't heading off to any Exhuman nonsense or paid killer's lair or XPCA fortress. I was just...here, home, give or take a few miles, and it seemed strange that I wouldn't at least give it a look.

The same sensations of uncomfortable nostalgia, that this place had utterly stood still while I'd changed so much kept coming back to me as I passed by familiar places. Shops where Mom had bought groceries time and again with us in tow, fighting over who got to push the cart and who got to ride. Streets, so familiar then that I'd never paid them any mind, now felt like the most interesting places on earth. Houses of friends, once people I'd spent hours and hours with, who were now nothing, and to whom I was less than nothing.

I went through a lot of emotions just walking around. I was reminded of how my parents had controlled me, and how last time this came up, I'd been so angry about it. I still was, but everything feeling so separated from me with me standing right in it, it made me feel separated from my past in my mind as well.

But at the same time, paradoxically, I was me, I was here. I wasn't separated at all. I was just someone different now, and that someone different had no parents, had no reason to be angry at their upbringing. He was just a ghost wandering through a world, looking for glimmers of his old life.

It was inevitable that my feet lead me back here, where it began and where it ended. I could still see scorch marks on the ground and cracks where the XPCA had prompted my lightning and died. The windows were dark, but it was early afternoon, that meant nothing. The car in the driveway was a much better measure of whether anyone was home, and if I stood and listened and the wind was still, I could catch the vague sounds of the holo playing inside.

I stood there, outside my old house as though the green weedy lawn were a force-field keeping me at bay. Just lingering in a place I didn't really want to be, and where nobody wanted me. I felt like...I had to go in, to see if what Lia had told me was true with my own eyes.

But at the same time, I didn't want to see. I was dead to these people, and they should be dead to me. Whether this house's occupants were sane or violent or regretful, why should I care more than any other house?

Closure, maybe? Family? Hell, revenge?

I didn't know. There were too many forces acting on my brain from too many directions to decisively go or stay, so instead I just lingered.

And it was in so doing that an older woman walked up the sidewalk and addressed me, pulling me from my distracted stupor.

"Athan Ashton, Exhuman and murderer. Why would you come back here, after all this time?" she asked.