“Don’t belong? I don’t know, it feels kind of right for me to be in the snake hell.”

“Wow, are you okay?” Saoirse looked taken aback by the abrupt tonal shift. Hazel earlier was manic, not bitter.

“No, I need my phone.” Hazel was struggling to breathe. The air was so thin here. “They don’t know what happened. I need to tell them.”

“Hazel, listen to me. It’s okay. They know. I just -”

“You don’t know they know, you’re just saying that!” Hazel snapped. Oh god, what had she done? “Sorry.” As if that would fix anything. Saoirse was nice, she had to be calm. “What were you about to say?” It’s so loud.

“You’re okay, it’s okay,” Saoirse comforted. Hazel felt the older girl’s hands wrap around her own. It helped. Breathing came easier, the world was a little nicer.

Was it that nice though? She almost died. She needed someone to be here. She can’t be alone right now. Oh, right, Saoirse. Wait, she hasn’t been listening. As she refocused, she noticed Saoirse was studying her. “I’m okay. You were saying?”

Saoirse was unconvinced, but unsure what to do next, pressed on anyway. “You’re in the In-Between. It’s basically a half-afterlife.” Hazel stilled at this but forcefully relaxed.

That was a bit blunt. She died? Was it the snake? No, she’s died before. The screeching metal. The metal wasn’t screeching, that was her, screaming.

“When people have a very strong regret, they don’t immediately pass on. They get a chance to -”

“I really died? I mean I know I died.” She can’t remember how. “Did I fuck up?” Did she fuck up? Were her people there when she died? “Did the others die too?” She went to the wrong afterlife. “I’ll never see them again.” She messed up bad.

“Hey, no. Look at me. I’m here too, right? You didn’t fuck up - I don’t even think you died -” Silvery metal. It was in her stomach. Outside it too. She’s stabbed? She definitely died.

“Oh god. I died. I’m a screw-up,” Hazel knew she was being unreasonable, but she was a screw-up who screwed up dying. So if she was gonna screw up again, and make people hate her, that’s expected, right?

Saoirse, though, absorbed every emotional outburst like a sponge. Those eyes pitied her. Saoirse did not hate her. Hazel hated it. She hated Saoirse.

“Go away. Leave me alone. I don’t want to do anything I regret.” Not that she hadn’t already done that. She scrunched her eyes shut and pulled the blanket over herself. Hiding.

“Okay. It’ll all be okay. I’ll send Mochi in with more food - you can stay here as long as you need to. I’m sorry I sprang this on you, I was surprised and…”

A short pause, “and just… you’ll be safe - you have my word as your captain. Nothing will ever harm my passengers.”

Those words contained unseen power. Hazel could’ve sworn every plank in her room hummed in agreement.

With that, the door shut without a sound.

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Hazel hated herself. She ruined everything. The captain would never speak to her again. She wallowed in her thoughts, like a pig in muck. She smelt like one too. She got up to shower.

Stripping away her clothes, she noticed her body wasn’t quite right. There was a scar on her tummy that was not there before. Long jagged scars raced all over her body. A falling sensation. Vertigo. The loud sounds and bright flames. No. Shower.

The water was hot, and had that strange almost slimy texture she’d felt in the sea. She wasn’t sure of the hygienic value of showering with seawater, but it felt good.

Despite feeling viscous, the water flowed like, well, water. It wasn’t actually thicker than regular water at all. She watched as it dragged all the built-up sweat, blood, and dried tears through the drain in the center of the shower. The cut on her leg had scabbed over.

Her brows furrowed, puzzling over the cut. It usually took a lot more to draw blood from her. More weird magic, maybe?

Looking around, Hazel spotted two bars in a little cubby. Shampoo bars. Of course. Because it’s hell, Hazel thought flippantly. It smelt good though, and lathered well. The bar soap was amazing too. Saoirse did not cheap out on her toiletries.

A quick rinse later, Hazel was enjoying the softness of the towels. It was warm too, more magic fuckery. With no spare clothes, she was bracing herself for re-wearing her nasty set.

As a pleasant surprise, a clean set of clothes sat where her dirty ones were before. It was folded and had the crispy feeling and warmth of freshly laundered clothing.

“Thanks,” She said to the empty bathroom, feeling very silly.

Grime and tension wicked away by the hot shower, Hazel let her muscles relax. Her eyelids grew heavy, weighed down by the physical and emotional toll of the day. She splayed out onto the bed and let sleep claim its due.

----------------------------------------

Waking up to Mochi at the foot of her bed was much less surprising, but just as surreal this time. With a calmer mind than all the previous times she’d been in this room, she finally took the time to survey it.

Again, the wooden panels and detailing stood out to her. They were things she’d only ever seen in the pictures her cottage-core-obsessed friends sent her. Many smaller features also jumped out with what she was beginning to recognize as Saoirse’s personal touch. The heated wooden floor, the large windows with black-out blinds, and the night light on the far wall.

A stocked bookshelf she was definitely going to look through.

Pulling the blinds away, Hazel gaped. For the first time not clouded by fear and paranoia, she let herself soak in the ethereal view. The glassy surface of the sea refracting a kaleidoscopic array of color. The further out she looked, the more the sea shimmered in the twilight sky. She realized with a start that there was no sun or moon in the sky. All the light in the realm came from the glowing sea.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

A soft meow tore her attention away from the window. Mochi wasn’t on her bed anymore. He was reclining on the desk, a pristine lunchbox sitting undisturbed next to him. It wasn’t there before.

“Is that… for me?” Hazel asked, once again feeling kind of foolish. First of all, duh who else in the room would eat human food? Secondly, he’s a cat. It would be freaky if he replied at all.

Mochi meowed and did a good little cat stretch before leaping off the table. Padding smugly across the floor, the cat jumped back up onto the bed. He meowed before curling up into a soft fur ball, forcing Hazel to pet him.

She’d learned from her friend that cats loved gentle strokes running down their spines. Judging from Mochi’s motor engine-like purring, her friend was right.

A few minutes go by like that, her fingers and thoughts lost in Mochi’s luscious fur. The stillness was broken by a pang of hunger making itself known with a rumble. The cat perked an ear up, craning its neck to look at her. She made no move to get up. Mochi gave the best cat rendition of an unimpressed face. He got up and back onto the table, this time steadily nudging the lunchbox towards the edge of the table.

Hazel sighed. And she was getting so comfortable too. She slinked over to the table and collapsed onto the chair. Mochi got off the table and made himself comfortable on her lap. Hazel cracked the lunchbox open. The smell was mouthwatering. The two-compartment lunch box revealed a simple heavy Irish stew and rice. The dish was simple, but Hazel was not fooled.

Every glistening grain of rice caught the light just right. Each one promising the perfect bite, all coming together into a fluffy mass. And the stew. The broth was thick and glossy, and the meats seemed almost bursting at the seams with how juicy they were. She picked a fork up and watched as it sliced through the potatoes like they weren’t even there. Hazel almost didn’t think they were - it felt like she was still dreaming. Sipping a spoonful of the broth, Hazel felt tears welling up once again.

The patiently simmered stock, the perfectly cooked rice, the clean clothes she never even mentioned. Every aspect of this stupid boat sang a symphony of Saoirse’s care. Hazel stuffed the food in her mouth. She had someone to apologize to. She hoped she could fix it somehow.

----------------------------------------

Equipped with slippers this time, Hazel slipped out of her room. Mochi, knowing exactly what Hazel was looking for, guided her through the corridors. This time, it was to the right of her room, presumably to the back of the boat. None of the spirits were around. Small mercies - she wouldn’t know how to act around dead people.

Was it rude to ask how they died? She didn’t even properly remember dying. Just thinking about it damn near sent her into a spiral. Shaking the bad thoughts away, Hazel faltered towards the door Mochi had stopped in front of.

It seemed just like any of the other doors she’d walked past in her daze. Wooden, solid, heavy.

She raised her hand to knock but hesitated. Saoirse might be busy - no, she probably

was. She was a captain and there were tons of passengers and stuff… and… and Mochi shoved the door open for her. Pulling her hand back to her side, Hazel peered around the door.

“Hey?” Hazel tried. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure about going in and Mochi just..”

“No yeah, I get it,” Saoirse smiled wanly, “Mochi goes where Mochi goes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to say thanks for the… food, and bed, and things.” Hazel started strong but finished a bit lame. She followed up by waving a clean lunchbox around “I washed up the lunchbox?”

“Thank you, Hazel,” Saoirse intoned. “How has your room been? I’m not sure about modern tastes these days, it’s been a while since I got a spirit.. err.. a newcomer on my boat.”

“It was good! It was perfect! Could we.. start over? Sorry. I’m sorry about how I acted.”

“Of course! You’re fine. Most people are not quite themselves so soon after arriving here anyway.”

“I’m still sorry. I promise I’ll do better. I’m also just… curious about everything, to be honest, now that I’m not all over the place.”

“Oh, yeah,” she gestured at her office, “My door’s always open, come on in!”

The pair got themselves situated on the plush couches that served as a guest area in the office. Saoirse glanced over to make sure Hazel was paying attention.

Hazel’s ramrod-straight posture elicited a chuckle from Saoirse. “It’s not that serious of an introduction - I’m going to just give you the cliff notes. Most newcomers don’t appreciate being spoon-fed, I find.”

Hazel wore an unconvinced expression. “If you say so.”

She paused, taking in Saoirse’s silent mirth. Her face flushed red. Something about Saoirse had her so easily flustered. “Sorry, you can go ahead.”

“Okay. So you’re here in the In-Between. From what I’ve gathered, you think you died?” Saoirse checked on Hazel again. It was a little annoying. She wasn’t a child. It was one nervous breakdown. Hazel gave a curt nod.

“In that case, it means there is some sort of regret keeping you here. Having said that, I don’t think that applies to you. Your case is unusual in the fact that you seem to have a flesh and blood body.”

At this, Hazel piped up helpfully. “Oh. It’s because I’ve isekai’d from a different afterlife.”

“You’ve what?”

“You know, it’s the - oh right, you probably don’t know.” Hazel launched into an embarrassingly well-versed explanation of the isekai genre. Saoirse took a moment to process this.

“That’s quite far-fetched? I was going to say there was some kind of cosmic mix-up, like with the cats.” Saoirse hemmed and hawed, “I still think it’s more likely you’re from a lost portion of the galaxy…”

Saoirse tapped her lips. “I’ll keep looking into this on my own. For now, I’ve told the passengers you were a kind of captain in training.”

“Captain. Like you?”

“Yeah. Captains are pretty much the only fleshy creatures in this realm. Outside the native fauna and cats, of course. Spirits don’t bleed like you.”

“That sounds a little ominous.”

“Oops, sorry, I mean they don’t have a real physical presence here like we do. Speaking of native fauna, that’s also part of the cliff notes. If we get attacked by one of those again, you are going to hide below deck like the others.”

“What? But I can help! It’s not that obvious but I’m actually really strong. Like superhumanly strong!”

“Yes, but you also fell apart afterward. And you got hurt.”

“Can I… tentatively agree? I can’t not do anything if I can help. And I’m all better now! It was just a big shock is all.”

“We’ll see.”

The conversation lapsed. The captain seemed content to let Hazel puzzle out her existence here.

“So I noticed the water in the sea was kind of weird?” “Yeah, it’s magic.”

“Magically thick water?”

“No, it isn’t water, it’s magic.”

“Wait I couldn’t drink it, could I?”

“What do you think I used to cook? Yeah, it’s drinkable. It’ll quench your thirst and everything.”

Another lapse. Hazel was shit at small talk. Small talk? This was her first foray into a

new world. She should be asking questions!

“The food was delicious. Are you a chef?” What the fuck was wrong with her. “Actually, I have to go.” Oh my god.

Thankfully, Saoirse noticed her growing discomfort. “Yeah, sure! Just remember there’s bingo later! I’ll get Mochi to drop off the itinerary in your room before then.”

“Thanks. You too!”

Fuck.