Taylor woke to waves. That just didn’t do it justice. There were no words. She’d never imagined such a thing, dreamed of it. Was still sluggishly struggling to accept it was a real thing. She was in her demure deep blue one piece swimsuit. Taylor would have preferred actual underwear, but such were shipgirl problems.
Laying on her stomach, hugging a cloud to her face. Each touch of the waters rushing over her was indescribable. The liquid retreated and she almost felt like crying. Then the next wave hit. It started at her toes. The water was warm, gentle. Slipping between each wiggling finger half buried in soft sand. Liquid relief poured over her feet, rising up each leg.
Smooth, pleasant sensation boiling up her uncovered skin making her back arch with an incredible sense of simple wellness, of health. Of missing pangs and weightless existence without responsibilities. Until the fluffy deluge rolled over her head and gave her an affectionate fully body hug. She was overflowing with a sense of childish wonder. Taylor inhaled the warm waters, feeling them mix with the balmy sea already in her lungs. The flow, in and out, felt entirely too comfortable to let it escape again. As the wave tried to run away she reached out and caught the playful thing.
Her eyes blearily opened and peered at the dark waters still pretending like they wanted to pull back. That’s not where they belonged. She turned to her side, hugging her cloud to her stomach and wiggling into the comfortable sand, before taking her silky covering and throwing it over her head. Taylor was staying right here and sleeping in. The world could wait a bit longer.
Her perfect, snug cocoon of comfy bliss was invaded by an unfamiliar sound. Delighted cooing. A laconic snap of her fingers pinged the waters, revealing a silently giggling submarine nearby.
“That’s not right.”
Taylor was certain the submarine wasn’t supposed to be that far away. Her longer arm reached out and wrapped up the cheeky little thing as she transferred the cloud back under her head and wrapped herself around the feebly struggling sub like she was a giant plushy.
“There. Now everything is perfect.”
Taylor was exactly where she belonged and she never wanted to leave.
***
The rest of the girls were a bit further up the beach, watching.
“Is this the same girl who nearly lopped my head off?” Linolina asked in disbelief.
Wakumi carried a soft smile that wouldn’t dim for the world. “Tenders, Princess.” she softly answered.
“Isn’t she a freighter?” the Anchorage Princess questioned.
“She cooks for them. By hand. Every day. Sews. You should have seen her read, Lino. It was… an experience.” Kaede grouchily said. “I was supposed to start mapping her by now. What kind of lazy Princess sleeps for thirty-six hours? Midway is going to take this out of my budget.”
“So go wake her up.” Sapphire simply instructed.
Kaede gave her a dirty look. “I like living. Not being scattered in pieces all over Maui.”
“Well then.” Wakumi stepped in. “Since the wake up mission has failed, all that leaves us is to plan out some kind of outline for teaching the Young Miss. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Sapphire snorted. “What’s there to outline? I’ll teach her everything while you all get out of the way.” She shrugged, then quickly back-pedaled. “Of course, we wouldn’t want to bother you with additional responsibilities, Princess.”
Linolina ignored her. “I’m having a new batch delivered for refurbishing anyway. Once they get here, I don’t think I’ll be able to spare much time. Come on, you old drunk, let’s enjoy the moonlight while we can.”
Kaede huffed, before grinning as she got up. “Well, you’re seen it. I can’t work like this, so it’s not my fault and that’s what I’m telling Midway. Fetch me when the beached whale wakes up. It was cute in the beginning, but now it’s just boring.” Her tone gave her away. The repair ship was jealous of how boneless and relaxed the other girl was. Untroubled by anything. Or maybe, how the dark waters affectionately listened to her, still.
Wakumi braced for what was likely to be an unpleasant talk. Sapphire had some odd ideas about how the whole Fleet thing worked and what her place in it was. “You can’t just decide that on your own Sapphire…”
***
Distant arguing slowly pulled Taylor out of the sinfully comfortable, deep waters. She pulled up her covers and looked at the two girls arguing ashore.
“I could just ignore it. Nothing is going to blow up just because I want to get a full night’s rest.”
Her eyes focused for a moment and just seeing Four woke her up, instantly sending violent shivers through her.
The warm cocoon splattered all around her as Shun quietly squealed in surprise. Taylor pulled them both halfway out of the waters, unamused. She was awake, but that didn’t mean she had to get up. The pillow was resettled as she lay back down on her back, laying Shun’s head on her shoulder. Focus was coming back to her as her brain restarted. Her head shifted side to side, feeling the pillow beneath. The dry, feather pillow, it seemed.
“Where did that come from? Wait, didn’t I take the bedding from my room? Must be it.”
Taylor absentmindedly returned the dark waters parting wave with her longer arm, patting it on the surface for goodbye as it retreated. Now if only she could figure out the mystery of the pillow. It didn’t feel like any of those pillows, was the thing. It was entirely too soft.
“What are they arguing about?”
She could just ask, so she did. “Why exactly, did you wake me up?”
Part of Taylor wanted to blame Four, but she wasn’t sure if that would be entirely fair.
Cautious footsteps approached. “Miss?” Wakumi asked, maybe a just a bit apprehensive.
“I’m awake. I don’t need my eyes to listen to you. What’s the argument about?” Taylor could feel Shun vibrating with silent laughter and was far past caring about appearances. When no one answered, she opened her eyes long enough to spot the two girls, standing well out of reach.
“Out with it. And why are you all the way over there?”
“Wasn’t there a journal with a whole list of questions?”
If she wasn’t working or moving, but still awake, Taylor figured she might as well learn. From how each conversation went, there was probably a lot. Memories of flight drew a grin to her face. Gingerly, the two approached and sat down next to her. She settled in.
The silence lingered enough for her to crack open her eyes again. All three girls were uncomfortable. “What is it now?” Taylor asked them.
Wakumi explained: “Miss, a new addition to the Court only gets a tenday to ready herself for duty. Even with having to raise a new fleet, I’m not sure how much time you have Miss. If it’s only a tenday, we need to work quickly.”
There was a part she wasn’t saying. Something sparked in her head and she fumbled with herself, trying to remember.
“Where did I put that thing? Right, with the blueprints and other important papers.”
Taylor dug out her official verdict and pulled it out to read it herself. A bit hard with a submarine attached, but she managed.
She hummed. “What did you tell them, you three?” Taylor asked, tone deceptively mild.“
Shun burrowed further into her neck. “Sorry.” The sub apologized. “Court Inquiry,” she defended herself.
None of the three would meet her eyes. A massive splash announced Itchy’s arrival, as he playfully clicked his teeth. Taylor turned baleful eyes on him but the shark destroyer shamelessly wiggled, grinning at her.
“Well, I supposed if I’m going to be embarrassed before total strangers, getting something out of it is better than nothing.” Taylor dryly concluded, to two winces, one blank face and one still wiggling shark.
“Wait, no!” A massive tongue almost lifted her from her perch and she just barely got the important Court document out of the way. “Damn it Itchy.”
She was mostly fine, but a bit of genuine irritation over the carelessness slipped out. It was tiny. To Taylor. It struck Itchy right between the eyes and had the shark rolling over, stunned. Immediately, he was flat on his back, presenting a pale stomach and emitting a quiet whine that skipped Taylor’s brain and hammered right on her heart.
“Just be more careful. You’re a giant shark. This is important.” Taylor managed. She was going for stern and mostly succeeded. The shark rolled over, deflated and still, laying his tail on her feet. Taylor gave it a cautious pat and it slowly returned to wiggling in place, much calmer. Her eyes turned back to the document.
“Due to exceptional circumstance surrounding her rise, namely a botched self-summoning that left her deeply deficient at being a ship, the Panamax Princess is to be given additional leeway to the extent of thirty days to arrange for her fleet, refit and recovery from both refit and any lingering deficiencies or complications.”
“We have thirty days. I guess we better use them. This is what, day two?” Taylor asked.
“It’s counted from departure Miss. It’s near the end of day five.” Wakumi answered.
That whole duty thing was rubbing her entirely the wrong way. Taylor wasn’t about to join a war she didn’t believe in. But should she believe in it? They were super-powered kids. It was entirely easy to imagine how this whole thing could have spun entirely out of control on accident, let alone if people were trying to start something. And there was always some fool who wanted to start something. People were people. Taylor had a feeling it applied to both sides.
“Wait. End of day five? How long have I been sleeping?” Taylor gaped. Usually, she only needed four hours of actual sleep. They told her. It was not comforting.
“What the hell is going on? Nope. No more putting it off. Time to talk some basics.”
Taylor had some internal stores so she sat up and got to cooking. Now that she’d been informed of it, her stomach was very much insistent. She could just feed her internals with raw storage, but there was always something missing to it. Like eating raw food. Or stuff with barely any seasoning. Maybe emergency rations. People could survive on them, but no one enjoyed it.
“Right. Let’s start with sleep then. How much sleep do any of you get? Need? I’ve been getting by with one.” Taylor admitted.
Wakumi looked confused and a bit disgusted by the question. “I stick with the minimum. Four hours of nightmares every night is quite enough, Miss.”
“Hah!” Four sniffed. “It’s far more efficient to sleep one day out of every ten, as clearly our Miss does. Told you it was normal,” Four gloated, “she was just exhausted by the trial coming up right after your last mission and the Ritual.”
Four was looking oddly blue. It was precious. She flinched as Shun stirred.
“She means one hour a day,” the sub clarified.
Wakumi almost rose to her feet, yelping. “Have you been doing that while under my command?”
“Miss?” She tacked on, thrown off.
“Yes?” Taylor said, unsure what the problem was. “I get a bit more every third or fourth day.”
Four wasn’t blinking at all. “That’s…for months,” slipped out. “Ten total?” She said to herself.
“That’s not healthy, Miss!” Wakumi insisted, distressed. Taylor was more preoccupied by the slowly growing sense of awe coming off of Four. “I could get so much work done.” Four absently murmured.
“Staying at battle readiness is meant for when you’re out and don’t know when The Enemy fleet will show up, not forever.” The Carrier claimed.
“Training. Studying. Practice. Planning. Fourteen extra hours a week, all to myself.” Four seemed a bit stuck on the idea. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”
“No.” Wakumi punched her in face, knocking the Heavy Cruiser flat on her back.
“But Wakumi-“ Four whined from the sands as a second meaty thwack hit her stomach and stole her breath away.
“Hey! Stop that.” Taylor ordered. Shun detached herself and hid on her other side as Itchy stilled.
“I could learn-“ Four gasped out.
“She needs to get-“, a second gut punch.
“More time!”
“-this thing out of her-”, Wakumi’s fist ringing off of Four’s breastbone like a drum.
“Russian!”
“head or she’ll hurt herself,” Four’s head snapping back from another blow to the head.
The worst part of how Four was just taking it. Not even defending herself. Taylor was stunned speechless for a moment by the fact Wakumi just kept going. Just beating on Four right next to her.
“Fucking sToP.” The [Order] rang, and much more.
Taylor had allowed Wakumi to take the lead in many things, but she was coherent now. Not nearly as cautious or frightened she’d slip and lose control. Not alright, but no longer on the edge.
The Flagship wasn’t her Flagship and wouldn’t be one at this rate. The fresh Princess wasn’t actually sure what she did, only that some of her feelings on the matter were freely, empathically expressed.
The blow did not hit her. Or stagger the Carrier. Carried on the wind of her freshly recovered strength it ripped right into Wakumi with barely a hint of effort. Punching through her like the Flagship was a paper kite with a soft, thin wooden skeleton. Barely slowed by its passage through a living, breathing girl.
Still sitting down, Wakumi was pushed back over a meter by a gust of wind out of nowhere, leaving a divot in the sand. Abyssals were pale by nature, but Wakumi was the color of fresh paper now. Of bleach or a freshly applied white paint. Not a single drop of blood was spilled in the real. But in the other view, let alone [Fleet-sense]? She was a mess. Both Wakumi’s hunched over, holding her guts in, burning with pain and distress.
A moment later she lost it and bile dripped on the sand as the Carrier crumpled to the ground.
***
The Ra-Class repair ship scowled. “There’s nothing to fix. Or at least, nothing I can fix, Princess.” The title was bit off, forced.
“You don’t move. Not a twitch you stupid warship. Promise, or I will sit on you, fool, “Kaede threatened. “If you want to fully recover you won’t move. But what do I know? Maybe you like getting hurt!” She accused, her palms clenched together.
“Yes Ma’am. I know my limits,” Wakumi answered, sounding and feeling both in pain and faintly amused.
Kaede scoffed, but she was out of words.
“Will she be alright?” Taylor asked, feeling… like she’d accidentally pushed a girl and she’d fallen head first. Now the paramedics were here and she didn’t know, couldn’t tell how bad it was.
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“She’ll be fine in a week. Probably up and hobbling around in two days. Flagships were made to be around Princesses.” The “careless” bit was unsaid but Taylor heard it anyway. “Warships are a stubborn lot,” she finished, both fond and irritated. “You had to go and do this to yourself.” Kaede shook her head.
“I’m sorry. Again. To the both of you. I’m not sure what happened.” Taylor said.
“What happened was that this idiot is still up to her old tricks. Best to learn by doing, isn’t it?”
It took Taylor a moment to figure it out. She remembered being set on fire, as a supposed training exercise. That wasn’t the only thing that came to mind.
*
“I volunteered. You needed to see it. Not just know, but feel it. It’s important.” Wakumi insisted, still shaken.
“I’m a Flagship. I can take it. I was the best choice.”
*
Taylor wasn’t sorry anymore. She was aggravated. “Wakumi.”
The carrier winced. “I can take it, Miss. I’m a –“
“That doesn’t matter. No, I’m done. How do I set ground rules? Clearly just telling you is not working.”
“Use a general order, Miss.” Four filled in.
“How?” Taylor demanded. The clouds above darkened, thunder ringing in the distance.
“Nothing can replace live practice, Miss.” The Light Carrier was still trying to convince her.
“Focus it at the [Fleet]?”
It sounded like a question. Taylor glared at Four.
“I’ve never done one.” She yelped. “They never let me set the rules.”
“With good reason.” Taylor thought.
“Fuck it, the hard way it is.” [Fleet-sense] blew open, the connections live and vivid in her mind. She closed her eyes and fell away from the world to focus. No more distractions.
[Status]
Came into focus next and just trying to hold both was hurting her bridge. Manuals and books were torn open all over each station as each officer worked to find the damn thing. Slowly, [Fleet-sense] and [Status] intertwined until she could glimpse the gnarl of sea and seafloor that was [Fleet].
In its wake, the shadow that was [Fleet-sense] bloomed into full
[Fleet - Sense]
Taylor’s perspective shattered into ten pieces, one filled with static, three in the dark. There was potential here, but this wasn’t what she was looking for.
Deeper she dove, below the seafloor, into the links and lines that flowed underneath. Most of it was unchanging, rigid rock which made the mobile, living bits much easier to spot. Finally she grasped the deeply buried roots that carried [Order]-s.
Into them Taylor carved with will and purpose the foundation of her [Fleet]:
[Fleet – Order – General Order One: {You} don’t lie to {Me}]
The command rippled through the common waters, seeping into every river, each pool.
The smallest of them huffed and puffed, but with put upon patience let it flow through her.
Twin small yet deep lakes took to it with no complaint.
One large yet badly shaken sea with cracked shores accepted it with poise, so much so Taylor could almost feel it shrug and hear the echo of “It’s to be expected”.
Three tiny currents flowing within her had little choice and less desire to resist.
Another ocean, independent yet flowing in her patterns bowed to the waves with ill grace and Taylor could almost hear it calling out to some distant shore to complain.
The final was a calm sea, hale and hearty. Yet as the ripples touched it, Taylor knew it to be the most closed off of them all. Mists and mirages had obscured and hidden its true surface. It shook and shuddered. The collapse of its walls was like some inevitable surrender to an oncoming doom. Beyond the waters were churning with frozen horror and scheming foam as cold resignation fell like rain. In some places the waters boiled with anger and hate. It was a mess.
Looking at it, Taylor knew exactly what to do.
[Fleet – Order – General Order Two: No unnecessary suffering]
Some of the reactions to the second ripple were significantly different.
The broken shores rained warm resignation mixed with acceptance.
The smallest pool sparked tiny, happy arcs of lightning.
The twins warmed in joy.
The ocean was still calling.
The final sea… settled. The jagged edges melted somewhat, softer now. The rain not so much stopped, but petered off into a light drizzle. The foam stuck around, to Taylor’s irritation.
Then there was an ocean, an unfathomably large and deep ocean rushing towards her and she was thrown from the vision, her focus shattered to bits. Taylor stumbled sitting down as the world spun, trying to parse the sudden invasion.
“Yes? Yes. I never really meant to take her Midway.” Taylor apologized to the pulses flowing back through the twins bond as Linolina listened in. The other Princess was ripped out of her grasp so fast she nearly didn’t let her go in time. It felt like she’d almost touched a hot stove. Except with frostburn instead of regular flames.
It took a while for the world to start making sense again. Sapphire was there, waiting for her doom. Taylor could still think of her as Four, but that was increasingly getting hard as Sapphire wasn’t playing along anymore. She couldn’t.
“Fuck. Maybe I didn’t entirely think this through.” Taylor could go back and change them, but just giving out those general orders had taken something out of her. Like a muscle that was sorely used and needed rest.
“So probably not today.”
“Sapphire? Just go away for a day or two. Finish up those copies.” Taylor tried not to think about how much of a hiss her tone had taken on.
“Surely there’s a solution to this, right? One that doesn’t end with me breaking her.”
Because that just wasn’t alright. No matter how nice it was to dream about. Taylor wondered how shipgirls would handle being covered in bugs and invaded by a living swarm. If a particular girl was subject to the flight of fancy, well it was only a dream.
***
They’d moved Wakumi into her room and since she was stuck there, Taylor had taken the opportunity to pick her brain over a light lunch.
“We are Abyssal shipgirls.” Wakumi said. “Three things that are one.” She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
“Think of it like the points of a triangle. The bottom points the Ship and the Girl, with the Abyss at the top. Each is a way to grow, advance. Improve. So the manuals say,” Wakumi said, grinning as Taylor fed her another bite. Using thin slices of Abyssal steel instead of bread worked just fine. These houses were better stocked than Taylor had expected. Nothing with a short expiration date, but they had jams and butter.
“Personally, I’ve always put the Girl on top, but don’t tell anyone.” The admission left her flushed, embarrassed. Wakumi would get no judgment from Taylor for it. Taylor wasn’t sure what it all meant but that still sounded better than the original.
“The Ship is about our class. How good our crews are. Their ratings. Officially-“
“Rookies, regulars and elites.” Taylor interrupted with familiar terms.
“Yeah.” An errant twitch sent a spike of pain into the carrier, but she bore it stoically. “Yes.”
“Not all of them. Blue for newborns and veteran for those who just can’t make it as elites but have picked up enough lesser tricks to be above regulars.”
“Are there ratings above that?” Taylor casually asked.
“Not officially.” Wakumi replied. “But girls talk. Champion, Myth and Legend. Rumors have it that just reaching a Champion skill in anything will earn you a free refit and a promotion. Well, in any useful skill for the storm of battle. Sachi never did get a refit,” she mused. “Probably for the best.”
“It’s not just the crew but the total effect. How accurate your shots are, how well you dodge and how much punishment you can take for your class. It all adds up and a tiny difference can decide if you sink or not. Swift reloading and accuracy are particularly prized for gunboats.” Wakumi coughed.
“Sorry, that’s not a polite term to use with a Young Miss, Miss.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Come on, you’re injured on medical rest. You can drop the Miss. Speaking already hurts. You don’t need to add extra words on top.”
“As you wish.” The carrier accepted, fighting back a grimace. Taylor helped her take another bite, relaxing in the reflection of the simple joy she got from such a minor thing. She’d worry later about all the implications. That’s what review time was for.
“The girl is us. Who we are. Courage, sewing and cooking. Drawing and writing.” She blushed.
“But the ones the Court cares about are useful for war: twist management, recovery care, logistics, tactics, and strategy. Research and discovery most of all. Leadership and languages too. It doesn’t matter how good a commander you are if your girls can’t understand orders. Keeping a calm head under fire is mandatory for any Flagship as well as sound judgement.” Wakumi said with pride.
“Being an exceptional ship will land you on the route for an Elite refit. Better suited for battle and trying to match The Enemy one on one. An exceptional girl is headed for flag rank. You still need to be at least a veteran ship to qualify. Flagships aren’t quite as deadly as Elites, not always for their class. They’re meant to command and endure the attentions of the Enemy. Lead, not risk themselves for a kill. When a Princess or a Demon isn’t around to command, they do. And in most Demon fleets, they handle executing tactical command anyway.” Wakumi said it like it was a given that Demons weren’t great commanders.
“But no Flagship is a pushover. We’re just more likely to be refitted with better eyes and for survival rather than killing power. There’s only so much we can put in one hull,” she lamented.
After a minute of quiet eating, it was apparent the girl was content to keep her silence.
“And the Abyss?” Taylor prodded.
“Right.” Wakumi started, then followed it up with another, louder hiss of pain.
“No moving!” Rang from downstairs.
After a few labored breaths and a sip of water she gathered herself.
“You’re asking about the Hierarchy of skills, ships and rituals.”
Wakumi paused. “How do I even explain that? Are you sure you don’t know, Miss? You’re really supposed to. Not everything about the rituals, but you were born a Princess. You don’t know anything?” The carrier asked. For once, her deep distress had nothing to do with pain.
“No. Not really.” Taylor admitted. The admission felt like some deep, personal failure.
A bark of sad, hopeless laughter forced itself out of her despite the pain.
“Well, at least there’s an upside. Taylor?”
For the first time, it felt like Wakumi was addressing her. Not some imaginary perfect princess Young Miss, or her servant/charge Bertha. Or even whatever it was that they’d settled into as Miss and personal attendant.
Instead it was just Wakumi, laying and in pain. A bit desperate and filled with grim humor, telling her a joke only she understood.
“Well, Taylor, let me be frank: You absolutely suck murk as a ship.” She unloaded on her. “Your fliers aren’t just blue, they’re so fresh out of the sea I can hear them dripping all over your deck every time they step out of their planes. Your damage support crews and firefighting is absolute birdshit. Don’t get me started on your turning or speed and I’ve seen the excuses you call an engineering crew and I have to tell you dear, they are so bad they’d be bad for a regular ship, not just a Princess.”
“Generally, as a ship, you are absolutely the worst ship I’ve ever had under my command and that’s without going into all the insubordination and sheer fucking gall of not accepting your damn place. Even your learning speed is so bad I feel like bashing my own head in. It’s like I’m teaching one of the monsters, not a girl.”
Taylor was reeling from it, just a bit. After days of Miss this and Miss that this was refreshing but also not what she’d expected.
Wakumi rolled right over her. “Then there’s the girl. Damn infuriating and impossible on the face of it. You apparently barely sleep, work all day on something and then you crash like the dead. I’ve never seen a girl that focused and intense about stuff that isn’t their twist, except for some Princesses, which is maybe understandable. But then you don’t know basic, basic shit and are just a general failure. Like twists or feeding yourself. Asking for another posting. Simple stuff. ” She hammered.
“And then? You pull crap out of nowhere. Like cooking and sewing and I don’t even know what that was, in the lunchroom. Or from what I heard, the repeat performance on the beach. Where and how did you even learn to fight like that if you don’t know anything else? And you read, fluently and speak and write two languages. Since when? How? And what have you done with the black market!?”
Taylor had a feeling if she wasn’t injured, this whole thing would be filled with frantic hand movements. It was probably because Wakumi kept twitching and then aborting them. Since it was coming out and she’d all but caused the outburst with her orders, she listened.
“And the worst part is that damn graveyard. Your fucking presence just… poofed. Now you see me, now you don’t. Like you’re a damn submarine, rising out of nowhere. Or that damn sinking thing to sleep you do. But no, that’s not enough. You also pull Abyssal shit all the time. You asking me about skills is a fucking riot Taylor. You’ve been using them all along and half the time I think you don’t even notice. Or have a clue what you’ve done or how. No fucking wonder your soup and stew are that good, when you’re probably pulling minor rituals unintentionally on them.”
Wakumi faced her, staring her right in the eyes.
“Taylor? You’re one of the most ignorant Abyssals I’ve ever seen. Despite all that, you also have to be one of the most talented natural wielders of Abyssal power to do all you do without having any clue about any of this. Abyss damn it woman, you don’t make any sense! I don’t have any idea how to train you in it. I can teach you Skills, but I’m not a damn Ritualist! Cursed, frozen hells Taylor, did you have any clue what you were doing when you walked into one of Midway’s Rituals? At all? Or are you that arrogant, confident?” The force went out of her with that final question.
Taylor ignored the larger issues brought up and thought about it. Really thought about that final question. Had she?
Slowly the answer came to her, surfacing from the deep, dragged into the light. “I guess I never really thought about it. It didn’t, wasn’t important. Not something to worry about.” She tried to explain the mishmash in her heart. Because she hadn’t thought about it. Had failed to even consider it. She’d worried about Midway and the other girls reacting, but not about the massive whirlpool of dark water she was about to step into. She just knew she could do it.
Wakumi looked at her in disbelief as Taylor peered, felt deeper. Tried to explain her reasoning or lack of it. “I wouldn’t be hurt. It wouldn’t hurt me. The Abyss wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose, not without reason.” She finally murmured, bizarrely certain of it, voice falling with each word.
The final sentence was beyond quiet. Beyond silent, words from a forgotten dream slipping from her lips. It was Silence rising out of the Abyss. Pouring out of her, coming into the world to hug it, her. Bathing in the light of a sudden flash descending from the Heavens.
An ocean of Silence and a speck of Thunder meeting as one.
“I am yours and you are mine.”