Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Suguri’s breath curls around her like smoke as she walks through the cobbled streets.

The end of the year is drawing close, and snow is on the way. The humans in the town are scurrying between coffee shops, warming their hands on cups of hot chocolate and macchiato. To be frank, Suguri doesn’t really know what a macchiato is. She is old and she is wise, but some nuggets of wisdom are not precious enough to keep, and the construction of a macchiato is one of those things.

Walking beside her is Sham, who does know what a macchiato is. Sham has probably drunk more fancy coffee than any one of the barista in town; she has a regular order which has just enough caveats and additions to show that she knows her business, but not quite enough to be obnoxious. She is wearing a thick duffel coat that was excavated from the forgotten recesses of Nath’s wardrobe, and to which she jealously laid claim. It’s too big for her, but looking unfashionable helps to disguise her from the idol-adoring public.

Suguri herself is dressed in a winter outfit that Hime picked out for her, complete with a scarf that Hime knitted herself. Their house is currently awash with scarves, because Sumika has decided to take up the knitting needles with her big sister, and they’re currently having a friendly competition. Knitting, according to Sumika, is simple mathematical patterns and repetition of motion, which a cyborg like her excels at. According to Hime, it has more to do with the emotions put into the knitting. Both of them are currently being thwarted by mittens, so Suguri takes their advice with a grain of salt.

As they walk, Sham babbles. She’s good at that. She can hold a conversation almost entirely by herself, which is probably a required skill for romantic entanglements with Sora, who typically uses the minimum number of words to sow the maximum amount of confusion, and Nath, who is good at retorts but also given to quietness. Suguri herself is not the most loquacious girl to have graced the Earth, so it’s a boon to her as well. The gift of the gab is a powerful thing.

Of course, Suguri can’t be an entirely selfish conversationalist. Part of the deal for dragging Sham out of her warm house and into the winter streets – a deal that was tacit and un-negotiated, but which Suguri knew she was making nonetheless – is that they’ll be swapping stories about their love lives.

For Sham, it’s a wonderful deal. She loves collecting gossip (a lifetime in the entertainment industry has taught her its value many times over), but it’s also a chance for her to brag – and with two girlfriends, she has much to brag about. She has any number of anecdotes about Nath and Sora, all of them told passionately with deep and unvarnished affection.

It’s an urge that Suguri understands. There was a time not long ago when she didn’t; gossiping about love lives was simply something that happened to other people, and she had long forgotten the sensation.

But she has begun to find that it feels good to talk about the things that bring her the most joy. Her family, and Hime in particular, are that to her. Sham makes the perfect audience, always eager to hear the juicy details and patient when Suguri needs to grope for less embarrassing ways to sing their praises.

Of course, that’s if she can find space to say anything between Sham’s stories.

“So, anyway, Nath was trying to explain to her that, yeah, Sora, there is such a thing as a marshmallow plant, but it doesn’t actually grow marshmallows and they don’t even really use it to make marshmallows any more even though they used to, but she still made us all go out to the garden centre to look for marshmallow seeds. Obviously they didn’t have them, because most people don’t have marshes in their gardens? But she kept picking stuff up and saying, ‘I bet Suguri would like this one’.”

“Mm. I wondered why she came home and gave me a trowel.” Suguri has many trowels, for many purposes. They accumulate. She thinks they might be breeding, but she’s never caught them in the act.

“That’s not too bad. She gave Nath a watering can. And Nath says, ‘Sora, I don’t have a garden in my apartment. What am I supposed to do, water the cat?’, and Sora says, ‘Maybe he’ll grow.’ And Nath just raises her eyebrow like… Oh my god. I was laughing so hard.”

“What did she get you?” Suguri asks.

“Oh, she got me a cute little planter painted to look like it’s a fox. Not sure what I’m gonna use it for, but it’s cute! It’s ceramic, so I guess I could always use it for coffee?”

Sora, Suguri thinks, is a strange and mystical creature. Sham spent ten thousand years as a fairly competent and reliable member of society, but somehow Sora has already got her drinking coffee out of plant pots. Love must truly be a powerful drug.

“Speaking of gifts, you wanted me to help you pick something out, right?”

Suguri nods. Swapping stories about their loved ones might be surprisingly enjoyable, but it’s still a bargaining chip for a greater purpose.

“Hime and I... Our anniversary is coming up at the end of the year. I want to get her something special.”

Sham folds her arms, nodding along. “I’m guessing you’ve already got something in mind? You know what she likes best, after all.”

“Yes. I just… need help picking the specific one.”

“Gotcha! So, what are we looking at? Dresses? Shoes? Ooh, what about hats? Hats are fun!”

Suguri disagrees; she does not find hats fun, and had spent many years pondering the continued popularity of hats. She supposes that the human race was entitled to make its own mistakes, and hats are simply one of them. But Sham seems so happy and energetic that she can’t bring herself to make the point.

“...it’s jewellery, actually.”

Sham pauses mid-step, frowning. “Jewellery? Does she actually like jewellery, though? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear any. Well, except for her neck thingy, but c’mon. Everyone’s got a neck thingy.”

Suguri says nothing.

Saying nothing is one of Suguri’s key conversational tactics. Sometimes, it’s simply easier (and less embarrassing) to sprinkle a little bit of information into the water and let people leap to the conclusions she’s leading them to. (Like most standard conversational tactics, Sora is immune; letting her reach her own conclusions on a topic usually ends in trouble).

She thinks that Sham will probably… no, definitely, reach the conclusion she’s looking for. She is excited and terrified in equal measure for the moment she does.

“Oh, I get it,” Sham says, giggling theatrically and nudging Suguri with her elbow. “You’re finally gonna put a ring on her finger, huh? Huh?”

Suguri says nothing, and looks studiously at the horizon.

“H-hey. I’m, uh, just kidding around, so there’s no reason to get all quiet like that…” Sham continues, her voice slowly growing quieter as it dawns on her. “Oh my gosh. Suguri, really?!”

Maybe she should have prepared earplugs. Earplugs feel like a good investment. She has ear protectors at the firing range so she can test her weapons, but you can’t walk around in public with them. Ear plugs are more discrete.

“You totally are, aren’t you?! You’re gonna pop the question! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you!”

“...Sham,” Suguri hisses, if only because she’s worried that Sham can be heard all the way from here back to Suguri’s house. People on the street are already turning to look at them. “Volume, please.”

To her surprise, Sham immediately puffs out her cheeks and begins wagging her finger in Suguri’s face.

“Oh no! Don’t you ‘Sham’ me! This is totally worth being loud about!” the idol bawls. “Come on, Suguri! You’re getting engaged! You’re saying, ‘Look! I love this person so much I wanna spend the rest of my life with them!’ You can’t get all shy about that. You gotta say it loud, with your whole chest! Be proud of it!”

It’s a passionate speech from a passionate woman; worse, she actually has a point, and Suguri can’t really find much to refute it. It’s embarrassing to be direct with how she feels, but going forward, that attitude will only cause problems. It’s something she’ll need to unlearn.

For now, all she can do is pull up the collar of her coat to hide her reddening cheeks, and mutter: “I’m not getting engaged yet, necessarily. She might say no.”

Sham’s only response is to grin and roll her eyes.

Hearing things like this is part of the reason she asked for Sham’s help, rather than anybody else’s. While Sham probably knows and cares more about jewellery than anybody else in their circle, Nath is just as old, just as wise, and has probably collected jewellery as part of her hobbies. Asking her about rings, specifically, might be in poor taste, but she has a feeling that Nath would get a dry chuckle out of it rather than being offended.

But Nath would never offer her advice on a relationship, and if she did, it would be far less simple and emphatic than Sham’s would be. Sometimes it isn’t just what you say, but the way you say it, and Sham gives advice with the burning heart of a maiden in love.

“Alright, so, first things first. With engagement rings, you usually wanna go for clean and elegant. A lot of people just go for a plain band, or one with just a little stone – nothing too crazy. That’s because you want the actual wedding ring to be, like, a step up. If you get an engagement ring that’s too fancy, you’re risking the wedding ring being so fancy that it’s, like, ostentatious, right?” Sham explains, far too quickly. “Plus, because the engagement ring’s, like, a surprise, you don’t wanna go too crazy in case your partner doesn’t like it. More conservative designs usually do that better than one that sticks out.”

“I… I see.”

The snow crunches as they walk along. Sham isn’t a tall woman, but Suguri isn’t even average, and Sham’s passionate ranting is carrying through to her walking speed. Suguri has to widen her gait to keep up.

“But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta go mega plain. Oh! Did you think about whether you want platinum, gold, or rose gold?”

“Platinum?” Suguri asks. “Wouldn’t you usually say silver?”
“Silver’s nice if you’re only gonna wear it once in a while, but wear and tear is killer on it. For an engagement ring, you want something more durable.”
“O-oh.”

Suguri folds her arms, and lowers her head in thought. Jewellery, weddings, engagements… these are all parts of life she’s never touched on before. Like Sham’s macchiato, she knows so precious little about them; for ten thousand years, they’ve only been a vague, fuzzy point of reference in her brain. Now that she’s getting into the finer details, it all feels… New. Exciting. Frightening.

She takes a moment to picture Hime’s fingers. Long, slender. Pale. She thinks about Hime’s hair, about spots of sun through the window in the morning.

“I think… gold would be good. Warm colours look good on her.” She pauses, thoughtfully. “Everything looks good on her.”

“Eheehee. See, that’s what I’m talking about!” Sham giggles. “Gold’s always a good choice for this kinda thing. Oh, just checking, but you know her ring size, right?”

A very long second passes.

“Her ring size?” Suguri asks. It doesn’t feel any less ominous in her voice.

“Well, yeah. Obviously you gotta know her ring size. Otherwise you might give her the ring and then when she puts it on, it doesn’t fit,” Sham explains, frowning. “You can get them resized afterwards, but it kinda ruins the magic of the moment, right?”

Suguri’s brow furrows; the lone strand of hair that sticks up atop her head crinkles in sympathy. “But she doesn’t wear any rings, so she’s never mentioned it. And if I asked her, she’d figure out why I wanted it straight away.”

“Ahaha… Well, don’t worry. It probably means we can only do window shopping today, but we can at least look around and see if something catches your eye, right?” Sham’s smile is still there, but a little strained. “Um… Oh! I know. We can ask Sora for help.”

“Sora?” Suguri raises an eyebrow. Perhaps it’s unkind, but she can’t imagine ring sizes are something Sora, of all people, would have any useful input on.

But Sham has already whipped out her cellphone and is dialling the number. As the dialtone connects, she gives Suguri a conspiratorial wink.

“Hello,” Sora says sleepily, her voice made tinny and unfamiliar by the speakerphone. “Sham, are you okay?”

“I’m totally hunky dory! Me and Suguri are just out in town right now. But we kinda need a bit of help.”

“Did you order the giant parfait again? Even with me, you and Nath, we couldn’t defeat it. Suguri’s good at a lot of things, but she’s not as good at eating as Nath is, so I don’t think we can do it without reinforcements.”

“I didn’t order the parfait. Actually, we need you to find out what Hime’s ring size is, but she can’t know it’s us that’s asking. You don’t have to do it today, but the sooner, the better,” Sham explains, and then grins. “Are you prepared to accept this mission, Special Agent Sora?”

“Roger. Please wait a bit.”

To Suguri’s surprise, the phone call doesn’t end. Instead, they are treated to the almost indistinguishable sound of Sora padding slowly into the kitchen.

“Sumika, what’s my ring size?”

“Huh? How the heckie should Sumika know? Sumika is not your general practitioner or licensed physician, so please don’t ask her for your biometrics!”

Suguri and Sham exchange a mutual look of worry and resignation. They’re not exactly sure what Sora’s doing, but they’re sure she can’t be stopped now that she’s doing it.

“You’re good at math, though.”
“Sumika isn’t good at math. She’s the best at math! She can crunch numbers like nobody else!”

“I thought maybe you’d be able to work it out if I showed you my fingers, since you can measure stuff with your eyes.”

“Heh heh. Well, Sumika IS a superior cyborg, after all. Since you’ve finally started to acknowledge her greatness, she can tell you that your ring size is… size six!”

“Ooh. That’s amazing.”

They hear the movement of air, which is evidently Sora attempting the time honoured art of clapping one-handed.

“It’s nothing special. But you can praise Sumika more if you want. She’ll allow it!”

“Can you do it from pictures in your memory bank?”

“Sumika thinks it’d be tricky if she doesn’t have a lot of reference data to work with.”

“What about Hime’s? You see her all the time.”

Suguri’s breath hitches as the method in Sora’s madness makes itself clear. She perks her ears up, listening as closely as she can.

“Oh, that’s right! Hime is Sumika’s precious sister, so she should definitely calculate that. Then she can show off in front of front of that thirsty silver-hair because she knows something about Hime that Suguri doesn’t! Pwee! Big sis, you would make a good minion if you had ideas like that all the time!”

“I’m already training to be a good girlfriend, though.”

“Sumika knows. You’re always flirting around all over the place, and it makes her want to turn off her ocular sensors! But my sister’s ring size is… um, based on the images in Sumika’s database, it’s probably a 3!”

Sham whips her head towards Suguri and nods emphatically. On the other side of the line, Sora is trying to clap again.

“Now for a hard one. Can you do Sham’s?”

The confusion finds its way back onto Sham and Suguri’s faces.

“Sham’s is a 5, obviously.”

“You figured that one out way faster.”
“That’s because she just looked it up on the internet. Lots of freaky people follow Poppomikki Sunshine, so you can find her measurements on a lot of fan sites. Oh! But why did you suddenly get interested in ring sizes? Are you just testing Sumika’s ultimate power?!”

Suguri’s face falls. Of course Sumika would ask for a reason. And of course, Sora is an awful liar.

“Sham was asking about ring sizes on the phone,” they hear Sora say, with absolutely no hesitation. Even Sham seems to be gritting her teeth at Sora’s refusal to even attempt to conceal it.

But then, Sora adds in what she probably thinks is a stage whisper but comes out barely different to her normal tone:“I think she wants to get me one as a present. But now I know hers, so I can get her one first. That’s what girlfriending is all about.”

“Sumika doesn’t think relationships are a race to see who can buy presents! Also, don’t use Sumika to further your flirting! She’s taking a very anti-flirt stance!”

“Thank you very much for your help.”

“Sumika is telling you, she didn’t want to help! Please delete the information Sumika gave you from your brain within the next five seconds!”

“I can’t do that, so let’s play games instead. I’ll help you with that monster hunting one.”

“Hmph! Sumika supposes she can accept that. She still doesn’t know how you make using the greatsword look so easy. They’re so slow!”

The conversation goes on for a little bit before Sora whispers “Mission complete,”, and hangs up.

Suguri finally sighs. She’s been holding her breath for half the call; the whole thing has been a rollercoaster of emotion. Things like this are why she doesn’t usually keep a cellphone with her.

“Well, uh… There you go, I guess! I wasn’t expecting her to get us the info straight away, but that’s Sora for you.” Sham smiles sheepishly; it seems she feels at least a little bit culpable for her girlfriend’s antics.

“I thought she was going to give us away.”

Sham’s grin becomes a little more wry. “Well, uh… Honestly, so did I? But she didn’t exactly lie. I was the one who asked her, and I would kinda like to get her a ring eventually. I just can’t really do it because it would drive the media crazy.”

“I see. I’m… surprised she didn’t ask about Nath’s ring size, then.”

“Oh, Nath already told us not to worry about that. She’s got this weird phobia that she’ll take her arms off while she’s wearing the ring and lose it that way, somehow, so she’d prefer if we hung one on a chain so she could wear it around her neck.” For that second time that afternoon, Sham rolls her eyes. “I mean, she could take that off and lose it too, but… if it makes her feel better, right? Besides, with her, we wouldn’t know whether to resize the ring or resize her fingers, haha.”

Suguri mulls all this over. It doesn’t surprise her that Sora, Sham and Nath have already started airing out hypotheticals like that. But as Sham rambles on about how she’d have to pull the wool over the media’s eyes and create a decent storyline if they ever wanted to get engaged, Suguri feels… heartened, for want of a better word, that she doesn’t have to do that herself.

It’s true that giving Hime an engagement ring is declaring to the world at large how important she is to her, but the world is a big place with a lot more things to worry about, and she doesn’t have to do it under a spotlight. It can be just between her, her family, and the woman she loves. There’s comfort in that. Privilege, even. One that Sham and her girlfriends don’t have.

She puts her hands in her pockets, and breathes a plume of smoke into the cold winter air. Things are changing. She is changing. Little by little, with great difficulty, but changing nonetheless. Yesterday, she didn’t know what a macchiato was. (She’s still a little fuzzy on it). Today, she discovered her girlfriend’s ring size. And perhaps in the future, she will know what it feels like to wear a wedding ring herself.

She is ageless and immortal, but she is walking forward at her own pace, toward the future she wants to see. Without Hime in her life, she would still be standing still.

“Let’s go and look at some rings, then,” she says, quietly but insistently. “Sham. I’ll be in your care.”

“Alright! Leave it to me! I’ll be the best… actually, what will I be, in terms of, like, family relations? I guess it depends what Sora is, but I don’t really get that, either… Like, she’s technically older than you, and I guess so I am, and she and Hime have decided they’re sisters, so am I gonna be, like, your aunt-in-law? Kind of? I’d definitely be a cool aunt, right?”

Suguri shrugs. No matter what kind of relation Sham will be in the future, it’s hard to be nervous when she’s talking nonsense into your ear, which is probably why she does it. Suguri has no doubt that the nerves will set in again when they start properly browsing jewellery stores, but for now, her head feels surprisingly clear.

The first hints of snow are in the air. The New Year approaches. And with it, a brand new chapter of a long and eventful life.

Chapter Text

To begin with, I need to stress – although I really shouldn’t need to – that for most people, boat ownership is more of an aspirational thing than an accidental one.

There are a lot of preconditions to owning a boat. First, you have to be able to afford one, which is not necessarily an easy feat. Then, you need to be in a location where water is abundant enough for a boat to be practical (or pleasurable) to be sailed; failing that, you need either the means to have a boat transported for long distances inland to get to and from the water courses it was made for, or else have a place to moor it and the rights to do so. The boat has to be maintained, insured, cleaned, registered with any number of government agencies or naval associations, and you need to have the basic skillset required to actually use a boat without immediately crashing it.

Despite this, people still own boats. It’s understandable. They like water, but don’t wish to be wet, and I can sympathise. Like many people, I have enjoyed water multiple times over the course of my life, and probably will enjoy it many more.

That goes to say that all these obstacles are entirely surmountable – but not by accident. The path to owning a boat is a process by which you slowly set up the perfect environment, piece by piece, for owning a boat to make sense on a practical and financial level.

Unless, apparently, your name is Sora, in which case boat ownership is just a thing that can happen to you all of its own accord as soon as you’re left unattended for the afternoon.

As usual, she hadn’t explained anything. She had just come home after a day out with a boat lashed to her shoulders, deposited it in Suguri’s back garden for safekeeping, and went to make herself a sandwich. She’d had a busy day doing whatever it was Sora did when nobody was watching her, and needed a sandwich in order to recover.

As one of the world’s two foremost Sora-whisperers, I had been summoned to uncover the mystery.

“I had an adventure,” she said, by way of opening gambit.

“I think we surmised that, Sora,” Hime replied patiently. She, I and Sumika were clustered around the kitchen table; Suguri was out of the house on business, and had yet to discover that a motorboat had been carefully planted beside her petunias. “I should like to know what this adventure actually was.”

Sora looked at me, and then her sandwich. It seemed like she was making some kind of difficult choice, which was confusing because absolutely nobody had asked her to make one. After many long seconds, she held out the sandwich to me almost as an offering, which I accepted for reasons I did not understand. (I would later learn that she was worried I had missed dinner to be there, but she wasn’t sure whether to give me her sandwich or just to get up a make an even better one.)

“I went to the beach.”

This surprised nobody in particular. Sora liked the beach. She had fond memories of beaches, as did Sham and I; after all, the Cuddle Puddle’s grand inauguration had taken place on one. That gave them a layer of intrinsic romance that would take more than a few years for time and familiarity to scrape off.

But most of the previous times she’d been to beaches, they had been private. But today, she had decided to go to a more public beach, with ordinary people wearing ordinary swimsuits. As somebody a little older and more wizened, I could have pointed out that this was a mistake; Sora didn’t mind people, although she did mind crowds, but people weren’t what she came to the beach to enjoy. She came to the beach for crabs and starfish and other strange things to be found among the shores, and people scared those away.

I could have told her this, but I didn’t, because I had no idea she was going to the beach. Today was meant to be one of my ‘rest days’; I adored Sham and Sora, but my social batteries were limited, and sometimes I needed to recharge my energy by spending a solid twenty-four hours in the company of the cat. I was beginning to need these days less and less, but I still had a little while to go before I could shake off my long years of reclusion. Sham, meanwhile, was doing Sham things with the media, which I had decided not to enquire too heavily about for fear of learning things I shouldn’t.

“Then,” Sora said, when she had eaten half of her sandwich, “I went swimming.”

“Sumika doesn’t really care about your day out! How dare you bring another seafaring vessel into Sumika’s home?! As a superior cyborg who is sort’ve maybe the avatar of a spaceship, she can’t help but feel that you’re threatening her territory by introducing nautical competition!” Sumika bawled.

“Space boats and boat boats are different things,” Sora opined.

“Not in Sumika’s heart!”

I gave Sumika a sharp glance, and she stopped bawling. For some reason, she seemed to… I don’t know. Look up to me, maybe? Either way, she seemed better behaved when I was in the room. She was kind of cute, in her own way, but a bit too high energy for me to deal with.

“Sora’s explaining things,” I said, underlining how rare an event that was. “Don’t stop her when she’s explaining things.”

Hime nodded. “Yes, yes. It shows her personal growth, and we should encourage that.”

If Sora had opinions about this, they were thankfully secondary in importance to her sandwich and the rate at which I was not eating it. Eventually, however, she carried on with her explanation.

“While I was swimming, I met a shark.”

“Near the beach?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

“No. In the ocean. Sharks are allowed to be in the ocean. They live there.”

Swimming, of course, meant something very different to Sora than it did for an ordinary human. For people like us, it was really closer to ‘flying underwater’, with exactly the kinds of speeds that implied. It was entirely plausible for her to ‘accidentally’ wander from the beach into the open waters without really worrying about it. Yet another reason why Sora had no need for a boat.

“You ‘met’ a shark?” Hime repeated. “Not ‘you saw a shark’?”

“It was hanging around for a while, and it bumped into my shield a few times, so I think it was curious.”

Hime sighed. “Did it bite, at all?”

Sora went conspicuously silent, which I personally took as a yes. I wasn’t exactly sure why she refused to admit it – was she trying not to worry Hime, or just protecting the shark’s honour? – but we got the gist.

“We swam together for a while, but eventually I had to shoo it away. Then I found a little girl.” She folded her arms sagely. “People shouldn’t be in the ocean if there’s sharks around, so I fished her out.”

The rest of the story came in fits and starts. The girl was a fisherman’s daughter, and had just fallen overboard from their boat and gotten dragged down by the undertow. Sora, being too busy playing with sharks in the depths, hadn’t even noticed there was a boat above her until she brought the girl to the surface. Upon finding a boat passing by, she immediately deposited the girl onto it to receive first aid, and the girl’s father thanked Sora profusely for saving the girl’s life.

“And,” Hime said heavily, “he gave you a boat.”

“He gave me a boat,” Sora nodded. “He said it was his grandfather’s and he doesn’t really have a use for it, so he wanted me to have it. I tried to say no, but he insisted.”

Hime and I both pinched the bridges of our nose.

So, in the few hours in which Sora had been out of the house, she had gone to the beach, wandered into shark infested waters, miraculously picked the one spot in the ocean where there was a fallen child, saved them, and received a boat as a just reward for her heroics.

I happened to know what happened when people fell overboard from modern boats: generally speaking, they were lost. Boats did not stop or turn on a dime; by the time they did, they would have gone a significant distance from where the person fell. Finding a single human in a stretch of featureless ocean, no matter how calm, was incredibly difficult, and it could be some time before the overboard was discovered to begin with. The ocean was a dangerous place, body heat was a precious resource, and exhaustion and hypothermia could set in within minutes. You could debate on whether it was a miracle, but being saved in such a situation was extremely long odds.

Sora finding a single person lost in the ocean while just passing by was even longer odds, but somehow, it made sense. After all, she’d found me, entirely by chance and without even trying, only a little while after she woke up. Probabilities did not seem to matter very much when Sora was around.

The issue was that, having heard that the boat was a reward for saving a child’s life under impossible odds, we couldn’t very well tell her to give it back.

Sora was a sweet girl. She had a natural inclination toward helping people, if she could. While her family, Sham and I were all in agreement that she shouldn’t need to proactively go out into the world and perform more heroics than she already had (saving the world once was quite enough for one girl), there was no way we would ever discourage her from acting in the moment. Nor could we, in good conscience, tell her to refuse just rewards for doing so.

“Nath,” Hime began, fluttering her eyelashes. “You’ve got a house by the beach. Perhaps you could–”

“I don’t need a boat. I couldn’t even ride in that boat. It would sink,” I said flatly. The boat Sora had acquired was one of the little motorboats you might use for lake fishing; it had no place on the open ocean, which was probably why the fisherman had given it away so freely. There was also no way it was designed to float with somebody of my weight in it, since the internal machinery of my body made me a good deal heavier than the average human.

“Well, whether you need a boat, you’ve got one. And you’ve got space to keep it over there. We can’t very well leave it here. It’s blocking the light to Suguri’s petunias, and she loves her petunias.”

Suguri, to the best of my knowledge, felt no differently about petunias to any other plant, but Hime enjoyed them, and that was enough.

I did have space for the boat at the beach house, but the issue was getting it there. It was a long flight as it was, one I didn’t particularly want to make for no reason, and carrying a boat with us would make it even longer. Hime frowned as I explained this, and tried fluttering her eyelashes again. I was immune to her eyelash fluttering, but perhaps she thought there was nothing she could lose in the attempt.

“I have an idea,” Sora said, getting up suddenly. For a moment, every eye in the kitchen turned to her, expecting some sort of dramatic speech.

Instead of making a speech, she went to the fridge and started making another sandwich. Apparently her adventures really were hungry work.

When she was done – we all waited patiently, because there was absolutely no point trying to hurry her – she said: “Boats are watertight, so they must be soil-tight as well. We can fill the boat with dirt, and then it’ll be like a big planter, so we can put the petunias in it.”

“Sumika objects! She doesn’t want another vessel in her household, but it’s still disrespectful to treat one as a plant pot! Please do not mock the purpose of a proud ship!” Sumika bawled, putting her hands on her hips. “Actually, she thinks there’s something really obvious you’re all forgetting!”

“What?”

“You can just pay to have it shipped! Sumika’s seen your bank accounts, so she knows that both Nath and the Silver Hair are total moneybags. Sumika would like to remind you that you may exchange money for goods and services, and one of these services might be getting boats taken to your house!”

I blinked. Hime blinked. It was actually an extremely good point, and neither of us had really been expecting it. Hime at least had the excuse that Suguri’s money was not actually hers (although functionally it was); I, meanwhile, had grown somewhat resistant to using my wealth in any way except buying groceries, so I hadn’t really considered using it to solve problems in my day to day life.

The boat would still be mostly useless at the beach house, but at least we could get it there conveniently. Or would it? It might not be the kind of boat that was safe to take into open waters and I might not be able to ride it, but Sora and Sham could use it to swan around the shallows. I could see romantic boat rides being a thing in their future. Not mine, although I was perfectly capable of flying along behind them in any case.

“Why are you looking at Sumika as if you can’t believe she made such a great suggestion? Hmph! Sumika is full of wisdom! She downloaded it and has preserved it in multiple file formats for easy viewing! Please praise her sagacious nature! Actually, you should reward her properly with an increased allowance! She’s starting a petition right now!”

Hime and I exchanged a glance and rolled our eyes a little. Sora, on the other hand, reached over and patted Sumika gently on the head. I had a feeling that Sumika would have thrown a fit if anybody else had done that, but Sora and suplex was words that had become closely related in this household, which I suppose gave her certain privileges not afforded to anybody else.

To be fair, it was hardly the first time I had been surprised by how well they got along. Really their personalities should have been oil and water, especially given that they’d fought (‘fought’, as if it wasn’t a one-sided grapple followed by a lecture from Sora) when they first met. But somehow, they had become fairly close. Not quite partners in crime, but usually when one of them was up to some shenanigans, the other wasn’t far away.

“I can’t give you any allowance,” Sora said gently. “Would you like a boat?”

“Sumika cannot own a boat! That would be like you owning a person! It’s immoral!”

...I had a vague feeling that Sora might be teasing her. But as always, it was impossible to be sure.

Well, regardless, we had all just about tired ourselves out, so I made my excuses and got on the phone to sort out having Sora’s ship… well, shipped. When I returned, they were talking about renaming the boat; apparently it had been called the SS Miquela, after the fisherman’s grandmother, but Hime wanted to name it after a flower of some sort and Sumika wanted to rename it the SS Sumika Jr., which raised all sorts of questions nobody wanted answered.

The owner of the boat, who should have had the final say, seemed to have excused herself from the conversation. She drifted over to me, as quiet as a ghost, and slipped her hand into mine.

“Nath,” she said, and paused. She always said my name like it was the most important thing in the world. The rest of her thought could come later, in its own time, but my name was the one thing she could never wait to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” I asked, and arched an eyebrow. “What for?”

“It’s your day off. I didn’t want to bother you.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat, but then I tutted and shook my head. “It’s not a day off. It’s a rest day. They’re different things.”

“They are?”

“If you say ‘day off’, it sounds like our relationship is a job. It’s not a job. It’s a rollercoaster.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Carefully, of course; I always made sure to go softer than I thought I needed to, since the fingers of my prostheses were a little firmer than flesh and blood. “When I see you and Sham, I never know what to expect. But my heart always ends up pounding, and I feel like I’m running forwards as fast as I can. Sometimes I just need to catch my breath for a while, so I can give you two the energy you deserve. That’s why they’re rest days, not days off.”

Sora thought about this for a moment, and nodded. But she was still frowning. “But Hime had to call you. So you didn’t get to rest.”

“Let’s just make our next date a quiet one, then. Maybe we can go to that bookstore. You remember the one? With the cafe in it.”

“Ooh. Sham can wear a turtleneck sweater. She loves wearing turtleneck sweaters.”

Sham could wear turtleneck sweaters every day of the year, as far as I was concerned; she wore them well, and to be frank, she had a talent for picking that particular type that really emphasised her figure, of which I happened to be a fan. However, she remained of the opinion that there was a time and a place for turtleneck sweaters, and given her experience on the matter, I ceded to her wisdom.

“Ugh! Sumika’s flirt sensor is going crazy! Please keep a personal distance of at least six feet when you whisper sweet nothings to each other, otherwise Sumika will create a committee for fighting public indecency and bring you before it!”

“They’re not sweet nothings. They’re date plans. And we weren’t whispering. They’re not a secret,” was Sora’s response. She gave my hand a defiant squeeze. “And Nath doesn’t do public indecency. She only does it in private.”

“That’s enough of that,” I said, gently nudging her with my elbow. The things that three women in love got up to behind closed doors did sometimes get a little less than decent, but I didn’t particularly want to broadcast it.

“Well then!” Hime said brightly, clapping her hands. “Nath, since we summoned you for our little crisis and the crisis has been averted, would you like to stay for dinner? I’ve been trying to make a good potato gratin all week, and I feel like tonight is the night.”

Sora gave my hand a squeeze, and I was pretty sure that meant my answer had been decided for me. I nodded and sat down, taking a sidelong glance at the boat from the kitchen window; it seemed a fine enough vessel. Outboard motor, red hull with a white trim near the top. I’d seen better boats, but I’d seen worse. There was no need to go out and get familiar with it right now; I’d have more than enough time when it was at the beach house.

Meanwhile, Sora and Sumika started making themselves conspicuously helpful around the kitchen, during which time I saw Sumika surreptitiously ‘misplacing’ shakers of curry powder, cumin and cinnamon while Sora created diversions. I had a feeling that dinnertime, like the rest of the day, was just one more part of Sora’s ongoing adventures – and one I’d been roped into.

But she was, at least, trying to make it as gentle as possible.