in the ataraxis of aftermath

en la azotea harbor

The next day, they sailed back into the city. Keyla asked if Naoko wanted to go home, to the station, Naoko told her no, she didn't, not quite yet, anyways. Keyla nodded and took a different path.

They sailed for most of the day. The straits between buildings got a little more narrow and a little more shallow. Windows and top floors crowded them on every side. It was quiet, neither said much, but Naoko didn't mind. She had started to enjoy the comfortable silence.

The sky turned orange. Keyla asked her if she wanted to go home. Not quite, not yet, she replied, just give me a little more time.

They moored the ship on a stray building, one with a smooth, flat rooftop where Keyla could spread a blanket and Naoko could set out two soft pillows and warmer, thicker blankets. They lay there, chatting occasionally, until the sky went dark and the stars sparkled, tiny pinpricks of light on an endless horizon.

"I like it here," Naoko said, cautiously.

"I do too," Keyla agreed absently, arms folded behind her head.

Something moved, further out in the sky. A smudge of deep blue and dark violet that shimmered like a mirage.

"It's really quite beautiful," Naoko tried, again, flattening her palms against the blanket underneath her.

Keyla hummed some sort of acknowledgement.

There was another arc of movement in the distance, a soft pulse of sound, a patch of stars, moving. Naoko's eyebrows furrowed, and she took another deep breath.

"I could live here," She offered, voice ever so slightly strained.

"Me too," Keyla replied, sounding confused.

Another long, low sound sent ripples running through the water. More patches of sky shifted, up and down, gliding through the atmosphere in long, smooth strides. She took a shaky breath.

"He wasn't real," Naoko said.

Keyla glanced over at her, forehead wrinkling.

"Who?"

"Seisaku."

Keyla propped herself up on her elbow. Naoko sat up, perching tense, cross-legged.

"Seisaku?" Keyla frowned. "You mean like, that guy? Your perfect date?"

Naoko nodded. Keyla blinked.

"He wasn't real?"

Naoko shook her head.

"But-"

"-I made him up," She interrupted, feeling horribly, terribly anxious. "Because my parents would ask me if there was anyone I liked. I didn't know what to tell them. They didn't believe me when I said there was no one."

The sounds in the distance started to sound more like notes. The blotches started to form vague shapes. Keyla pulled thoughtfully at her strands of hair.

"Well, was there anyone you liked?" The other girl asked, after a moment.

Naoko nodded, slowly, turning away as her face burned, even in the cool night air. A sort of self-contained shame swirled in her belly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Keyla offered.

Naoko opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to speak, she wanted to explain it, she wanted Keyla to know, but her words were stuck somewhere inside her throat and she felt like if she tried any harder she'd choke. Naoko curled into herself, tucking her head between her knees

Then, she felt a hand, slightly trembling, place itself between her shoulderblades. The hand - Keyla's hand - slowly traced small, soothing circles against her back. Naoko felt another surge of emotion and shut her eyes tightly.

"That's okay," Keyla said, quietly, so quietly. "I'm pretty sure I understand."

Naoko looked up at that, turning wide eyes onto the other girl. Keyla smiled awkwardly under the scrutiny, but held fast.

Naoko smiled back.

Up above, the shapes became whales. Their midnight blubber was speckled with brilliant white dots and washed in deep violet. Their songs warbled through the sky, grumbles and yips, creaking together into the familiar melody.

A quivering finger questioningly tapped against hers.

Their song, Naoko thought. The sky whales sang it for their children, their family, their pod, and something else Naoko thought she was starting to understand.

Fingers and palms, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

Love.

They sang for love.