The next day.

Yesterday’s sparring session with Jyn went…alright, Kalender thought, completely discounting the way she’d been acting. He had used Interpersonal Bubble in the usual way to dodge Jyn’s attacks, but…it had been all wibbly-wobbly like jello, like she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to stab him, and she was being extra attentive, too, pausing at even his slightest discomfort.

“Kalender, I can’t reach this one,” Jyn said. Kalender looked up to her from the bed. Beside him, Page was still asleep, and there was no trace of Minimine. Lilia was seated by the door, already geared up, or as much as she could be for a spar. Jyn was also already in her armor, but there was still one more buckle unclipped.

“Oh, let me help you there.”

He took mental note of the placement of the buckle. His mental notes said she should have been able to reach it. He shrugged.

He got up and slid over to Jyn’s side, taking a second to clip the buckle and tighten the strap.

“More sparring already?” he asked.

“It was Lilia’s request,” Jyn replied. Kalender glanced over, but Lilia said nothing.

***

The fighting pit was mysteriously devoid of people this morning. There should have been at least another pair, but oh well, more space for them.

Jyn and Lilia took their places, and began sparring. Although the speed was blindingly fast to normal eyes, to the two of them, it was a relaxed pace. It was so relaxed, in fact, that Lilia couldn’t help but to pick up on the subtle hints of distraction in the way Jyn responded and attacked.

After just a few minutes, the sparring came to a lull, as if one of them was just too tired to continue.

“Are you…okay?” Lilia asked.

“I’m fine.”

Jyn’s tired eyes pulled Lilia in, closer and closer to her. She walked closer, stopping at arm’s length, just looking at her with such a look of pity which Jyn hated—it was the same look that someone in the past, a senior Knight, some sergeant of another platoon, gave her when she’d returned the only survivor.

It was unimaginable to Lilia, who’d just seen her and Kalender be closer together yesterday, to see Jyn acting this way. They hadn’t returned to the resthouse in dampened spirits, either. What was it then, Lilia thought, that was making Jyn make such an expression?

“It’s nothing,” Jyn said again.

Lilia’s quiet was her insistent reply, but when a minute passed and Jyn didn’t break, Lilia thought to extract the answer the only way she knew how—with a sword.

…a wooden sword, to be safe, but a sword, nonetheless.

She prodded Jyn’s foot, poking it with barely any force. It was a strange thing to do, but it sure captured Jyn’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

But that wasn’t what Lilia wanted to hear, so she poked Jyn’s foot again. When also this yielded no favorable reply, Lilia poked her again—but Jyn gently tapped the tip of the sword away. Shocked, Lilia looked to Jyn, but only for a moment, before she continued to alternately prod her with a stick and a pitying gaze.

Whatever Jyn was hiding, Lilia would find it out.

“W-what is it that you want?” Jyn was the first to break.

“You’re not okay,” Lilia directly said.

To this, Jyn replied…nothing. When the silence dragged out for more than 3 seconds, Jyn knew the silence had confirmed Lilia’s suspicion for her.

Stolen novel; please report.

“It’s…not that bad,” Jyn said. “Troubling, but not bad.”

“Why aren’t you okay?”

“Don’t put it like that.”

Lilia paused. “Sorry.”

A moment passed before Jyn spoke again. “Kalender, he…I”—the words couldn’t leave her mouth.

“Do you like him?”

Jyn paused before she said, “Of course I do.”

“Do you love him?”

The pause was longer this time. “I…know nothing of love.”

In truth, neither did Lilia. She knew nothing of how to console Jyn, and it irked her. All she could do was offer her arms.

When Jyn looked to Lilia next, her arms were spread out wide, but not too wide—shyly wide—and Lilia’s eyes were avoiding making direct contact with hers.

Jyn took a step closer, herself unsure how to respond, but this was enough for Lilia to take it as some level of acceptance, so she took a step closer as well. It was a series of uncertain replies to uncertain signals that led to unsure steps until they were surely in each other’s reach.

Lilia, slowly, and lightly, wrapped her arms around Jyn, who also slowly, in kind, was very careful not to put too much pressure as she wrapped her free arm around Lilia. Their chins searched for their seats on each other’s shoulders, and they took a few seconds to themselves to confirm that they were, in fact, in the comfort of the other.

Just as they embraced each other with uncertainty, they pulled away questioning whether they should. Jyn smiled softly for Lilia, who couldn’t bear to look at her out of embarrassment.

They continued sparring soon after. Lilia had a much harder time.

***

It was 11AM. Page stirred.

“Oh…oh noooo!” she cried.

She kicked her feet up and, with drunken speed, threw off her sleeping clothes and put on her work clothes and counted the cash in her purse and…and…

“H-how long have you been there?” Page locked eyes with Kalender, who was seated by the work desk and was working on a magic circle with pencil and paper.

“I’ve been trying to greet you a good morning for a while now…” he said.

“I-I see.”

… Then she realized that she’d changed right in front of him. Her face went beet red.

“D-did you see?”

“I-I wasn’t looking.”

“So you saw something?”

“…Just a little.” Kalender’s eyes darted away when he said that. “Sorry?…”

There was a two-second pause, and in those two seconds, Page’s mind was like a battlefield of lawyers and judges arguing over the proper course of (re)action.

“Your Honor! Under the laws of womankind, citing Article 3 Section 5, ‘The Split-Second Rule,’ Kalender is obviously in violation!”

“Objection! It’s Kalender!”

“Kalender is a man!”

“Kalender is a Kalender!”

Whatever could break this deadlock? Fundamentally, Article 3 Section 5’s rationale was that men derived pleasure from gazing upon a woman, and a woman ought not to mete out such a privilege freely. Under such a rationale, however, if a man did not gain pleasure from it…then it’s all good!

Page observed Kalender a little more closely. He was blushing.

“Nooooo!”

She slapped Kalender’s arm.

“Why!”

“Because you saw!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Be more sorry!”

“I really am, though!”

Page made this guttural noise and inflated her cheeks, crossing her arms and facing away from him. She’d suddenly felt so incredibly shy, knowing, for the first time, that Kalender could see her as a woman, but at the same time…she really cared about him, and she didn’t want this to come between them, not now, and not ever.

“Hey,” Kalender said. She turned around with perfect timing as he hugged her. It took her a moment, but she wiggled her arms free and hugged him back. Even if she was hugging him, there was still some amount of anxiety about it—anxiety that soon went away, when she finally stopped being alone in her own thoughts, and she saw Kalender’s color. It was a color of…sincerity, and it was an impossible color, like…yellange or something.

“I really am sorry,” he said again.

“I’m sorry,” Page said this time. Kalender said nothing about it. They pulled away feeling a little better.

“O-oh no, I have to go!” Page hurried to put on her shoes.

“Ah. Sorry, I actually also knew you had work today…”

“Let’s not dwell on that! Help me get ready!”

“Sure, sure.” He handed her her socks. While he watched her do her sock-sock, shoe-shoe routine, another matter came to mind. “Oh, right, I have favor.”

“Hm?” Page wiggled her toes in her shoes. Yep, that’s a good fit.

“Can you check up on Jyn if you see her? I’m a bit worried. She didn’t look the usual this morning.”

“Ah…actually, I saw something about that last night, right before I went to sleep. I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“How was she?”

“A little purple-blue. I really think you should get together with her, y’know?”

“Wha—where’d that come from?”

“Isn’t it really obvious that she’s confused about her feelings about you? You should really just bring the hammer down, like, wham, true or false, choose true! Like that.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not? She’s confused, so give her something to make her undecisive. Easy, right?”

“But then I’d be pushing my idea of how she should be taking care of problems that are 100% hers…”

“If you put it that way…” Page sighed. “Fine, I’ll…I’ll go check on her.”

She stood up, but before she could go, Kalender asked for one last hug. It was a lot softer this time—perhaps too soft, since it reminded her of what had just transpired a sparse few minutes ago.

Page left the resthouse a little unsure of a few things, but more certain about others.