Rai was no use at all. It was like he had covered his ears - no matter how much heart Sao put into his words it did not matter.

How did he stay employed? The novelty of a Life Fountain? Sao kicked his feet out and slid nearly off yet another unseemly plastic chair he’d found himself in. Waiting in another dusty off-white police station. But with this station being slightly nearer to the central city, he was not actually the only one in the waiting room. There was a man with a magazine, and a mother and child by a bulletin board. What would they have to report? Hopefully not a disappearance.

Another sign of modernity - beyond the glassy surface of the desk, sitting above a receptionist’s head, was the shining face of the police force’s official shield insignia. No traces of the old ornate scales, no old friends here.

There was also no Rai, and Van wasn’t about to come strolling in.

No, he was here of his own volition. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Doing anything to drive off Rai and his nonsensical rambling had seemed like a good, even perfect plan. Some corner of his conscious was wishing he had heard out Rai’s entire spiel before walking out, but...

Too late for that. With his face repaired and in a fresh set of clothes, he thought, I can make do.

Marina walked out from behind the counter, nodding a quick, small thanks to the attending officer behind her.

“That was easier than I thought. Did you secretly pull in a favor for me?” she said.

“I wish. It was all you. The best I could manage was get you to your interview faster.”

“Lucky it's not too busy,” Marina said, glancing around in time to see the child send a handful of magazines tumbling off the stack. The receptionist looked up. The mother didn’t bother.

“Oh, you never know when an emergency will put everything on hold. The person who’s one step ahead of you in line could also have an exceptionally long story to tell.”

“Okay, I get it. You were very helpful. I owe you.”

A smile played about her face, lips at a strange slant. Sao smiled back. “How about some breakfast?”

---

It was more of an early lunch. The seats were starting to fill. Their tablecloth smelled of honey and oil, before the dishes even arrived.

“Let me get you a better knife,” Sao said. “I could use one too. Can’t cut pork with a butter knife.”

“It’s not impossible,” she wheezed, sawing at the plate to no effect.

When the knives arrived, her hand hovered for a long pause before finally touching one. Sao already had his chops cut into thin, manageable strips when he saw her hesitation.

“Something the matter?”

“I - am I really in the clear? What about Locke? And the car?”

“They’re being looked for, but nobody got a clear look at the car, and we most definitely haven’t heard from Locke in any way. Whether he was truly being chased or did all this in a fit of madness, I don’t think he poses any threat to you anymore. So don't fret about him. The least you can do is put yourself first.”

“I’ll try but there’s still… aside from going missing, I also stabbed someone, didn’t I? There isn’t… secretly an order for my arrest. Is there?”

“Not as far as I know. The man who was stabbed, whoever he was, did not file any reports, didn’t enter any hospital. And if you ask me, he got what he deserved.”

He was studied with eyes round and blue as tide pools.

He set down his fork with an extended sigh. “Why am I being suspected?”

“No, I believe you. You would know… I think.” She set the knife to the lightly charred cutlet with a smile. “Though I was getting a little nervous. If you aren’t here to spring a surprise arrest, then why are you out for lunch with me? It’s a working day.”

“Oh, about that.” Sao crossed his arms. “After last night, I asked my boss for half of the day off. I’m not due until after lunch because of last night’s absurd overtime.”

“Oh, yes. You were out so late. An emergency?”

“Not even that. A car crash. Nothing special - and hardly a need for police presence.”

Marina’s shoulders were pressed forward.

“It ended in a fistfight between the drivers and they wound up in an ambulance - because of the fistfight, not the crash. My boss did nothing about it, of course. To be honest, I think he just wanted to look. He’s a bit of a thrill seeker, a showoff.”

Rolling back on her seat, Marina threw her hands up on his behalf. “Then why did he need you to get up and go so late at night?”

“I don’t know. All I do know is, I wasn’t to sleep in the car. I suppose he thought he was doing me some great favor, following him on his hobby.”

“He sounds…” She chewed thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t say anything mean. If he’s the boss, he must know something, or do something well. But it sounds like he has no respect for you.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, at least he gave you some of today off...”

Sao slid his knife through the second half of his glazed pork chop, slowly brought a piece to his mouth and thought things over in the moment he had while savoring it. “If you don’t mind me letting you in on something, and I need you not to tell anyone...”

She didn’t mind at all by the look of her leaning.

“- I’m leaving this job at the end of the month.”

Sao pressed his hands together and rested them on the table. Marina’s mouth opened and narrowed into an ‘oh.’

“Oh. Is it all okay? I didn’t realize things were that bad.”

“Last night’s outing was hardly the first in a string of what a normal company would call abuse of power.” His fingers twitched. “And not the worst. My supervisor - that’s what I’m supposed to call him - has a bit of an attitude regarding my issue with touch. Even though it’s on my medical records, sometimes he - well, it hasn’t come to major harm...”

“But it isn’t acceptable.”

Sao dipped his head. “I thought it was the lesser of evils, compared to being out of a job, or reporting him to the heads of department - but I’ve begun to see things clearly. Partially thanks to you and your case.”

“Me?”

“You thought you were under threat, and had to drop everything. But mistake or not, things have been repaired miraculously well. And I got to know you a little better in process.” He laughed. “A new life does sound appealing, doesn’t it? A clean break. I hadn’t even really gotten started with my current one, I’ve been so caught up in work that I never got to meet people, enjoy the city for what it is.”

“I thought the same thing when I tried to go into hiding,” she said. “But just make sure you don’t end up having missing persons posters!”

“Oh, I won’t. This whole case has been very enlightening.”

“Learning from my mistakes.” She gave a fluting sigh and rested her arms on the table. “Have you told your boss you resigned already?”

“Not yet. I may be able to get the higher ups to deal with it for me. If I need to give a final goodbye,” he grinned, “I’ll just tell him what I told the others. It’s been great working at this office, thanks for all you’ve done for me, your understanding, your mentorship, if only our schedules would allow me to continue working under you.”

Marina broke into a fit of giggles. Sao let her have a sip of water before continuing his beautiful imaginary scene.

“It’s been an eye-opening experience. You managed to force my eyes to stay open well past midnight at times. I know, let’s meet for lunch sometime. Keep in touch. He won’t know what to say.”

“Killing with kindness. That’s very you.”

“Is it?” Sao tilted his head. “I think he’ll live. But you know, apart from my lovely supervisor, the only other person of note that I’ve met in the past month is you.”

He thought he saw a hint of red bloom on her face.

“And thank goodness,” he said, lifting his fork again, “Another reason to escape this job of mine; my boss would never touch a pork dish. Or a steak, or lamb or duck. He’ll only take chicken. And salad.”

“You’re joking,” Marina said, laughing again.

---

Rai shredded the remains of a salad in a cardboard box, his eyes fixed to the monitors. The office was enriched by the scent of mayonnaise and coffee. There were three cups on his table and an empty glass pot. Sao sipped his own cardboard cup of tea as he passed, giving the mess some consideration before leaving it as it was, and opening the window as his only attempt at housekeeping.

There was no greeting, no questions, and no mention of the night before. He was tempted to believe that Rai didn’t even know he had come in. And perhaps the night’s events had all been a semi-lucid dream of his.

Sao stretched his hands and set them over the keyboard. He had less than four hours of sleep in him, and yet his mind and body were raring to go. There was none of the usual heaviness. Even the springs of his chair seemed especially invigorated where they would usually be slumping to the floor alongside him.

Sao chipped at his assignments for a good half-hour. Ten minutes in, Rai began storming his keyboard as well. The noise was like rain, a swirling mass of productivity. Sao smiled where he sat.

Still no sign of recognition until about an hour later.

Rai’s hands skittered to a halt. There was a buzzing from somewhere on his person. He whipped out the vibrating phone and regarded it like an intruder.

Then the look shifted to Sao.

Sao rested his hands too. “Yes?”

“Do you mind?”

He did not immediately see any reason to say no. But he had hardly processed the question - and had just put the last night out of mind - when Rai swept the glove off his right hand. The polite joke he had prepared evaporated, as Rai began hammering out a message on the phone. It buzzed again before he finished. It occurred to Sao that Rai must have put off answering messages incredibly often due to the gloves. The buzzing had happened before, but this response was different.

With a small sigh, Sao continued his current transcript. It was an easy one, the handwriting was neat and deliberate. The orderly lines took his mind off Rai’s disaster zone of a desk, the spidering movement and nuclear glow.

Life fountains. Somehow, that mythical aura was not so enchanting when it was just being used to batter a cell phone.

Rai finished sending messages and started back at his computer, both gloves off. The cracking of knuckles should have been a sign. Sao saw lightning and for all he knew, he was hearing it too.

If Rai had been quick on the keys to begin with, without the weight and padding of gloves he was inhuman. The full impact of fingertips was deafening. Forget raindrops, these were meteors.

Sao struggled to regain control of his arms and wished for headphones.

When he left that night, he stopped at Rai’s desk. The thunder rolled on.

“Got a lot of work, Rai?”

The desk was dancing with light. The reflection of monitors and hands on empty cups, windows and black-rimmed eyes.

“Yup.” Rai assaulted the arrow keys a few times. “Getting through the backlog.”

“Want to review last night, maybe?”

Rai stopped mid movement. He slung his shoulder and one blue hand over an armrest. “Not really. Why, you need something? You made it sound like you had it handled.”

Sao gave him an frosty smile. Yes, how could I have been so rude you, with your hand waving, throwing accusations every other word.

“You want trust, I’m giving it.” Rai straightened up and set his hands over the keyboard again. “You say you’ve got it handled, then you handle it.”

“Ah, of course. So I should be thanking you.”

Rai grunted and swivelled back into position to attack his latest report. “You know what I’m saying. You’re supposed to be the observant one. For your sake, I hope it’s true.”

“You were the only one who made that assessment.”

Jaw set, Rai continued his work in a flicker of neon movements, blue lights worming in the shadows.

“No doubts at all?” Sao switched the lights on. “Okay. I appreciate your confidence in me.”

No reaction still. Rai was determined not to look a him.

“Or could it be, you’re too worried for words? Worried about me, my general incompetence...”

“Ha, ha. You need some words, here are some words: why don’t you get home and get some sleep?”

---

“You should get home, get some sleep!” Slightly red-faced though she had barely started on her cocktail, Marina tugged at the straps of her backpack. It was small but robust, with black zippers on navy blue cotton - it reminded him of Marina, the real thing. In appearance, anyhow.

“A full night’s sleep isn’t going to fix my attitude or his,” Sao said a bit too loudly.

“Did you let him know that you’re leaving?”

“No. I doubt that would fix him, though.”

“Bet you’re looking forward to getting out of there.”

Without hesitation, Sao replied, “Oh yes.”

He quietly stirred his cup and Marina managed to watch him for a minute before she had to speak. “A strong drink?”

“Hm?”

“I was just thinking, you seem to drink a lot of tea.”

“It’s a habit. We all have our small comforts. With tea, it’s more the ritual than the taste itself - I tend to overload it -- more milk than tea on a bad day -- which isn’t exactly proper, but it’s more for the hands to do. I find it relaxing.”

“Isn’t there a bit of caffeine, though? Maybe that’s what’s keeping you awake.”

Sao sampled his cup. “I’m sure after all these years I’ve built up a resistance. It’s been many, many years.”

“So you could say it’s a family tradition?”

“Not quite.” He smiled. “Boarding school. The only time the headmistress eased up and let her hair down, was when we were all sitting down for tea. My family, on the other hand, only imparted a love of meat. Not that having it around made them any more pleasant. I’d take the headmistress over the head of the home, any day of the week.”

“Ah… sorry.”

Sao drained his cup gradually. Marina head was cast down now, her hands on the backpack again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I certainly don’t. Because, after some effort, I’ve made it so I never have to see them again.”

“And they are alright with it?”

Was that true strain to her words? Even murderous shapeshifters could have consideration for family. Apparently even more than himself.

He swirled the contents of the cup. “I don’t know. We aren’t in touch.”

“I’m sorry. I mean- I shouldn’t be asking about these things, should I? I’m sorry - sorry for digging this up. You’re doing so well now, whatever you did was definitely for the better.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I don’t even remember what I did.” He let out a short, compressed laugh. “And am I really doing so well? I have money now, and I can get myself both tea or steak whenever I feel like it. But the headmistress, the siblings… I haven’t found a fitting replacement. I remember one of points you told me, the night you slept over. And you were right. It gets a little lonely.”

The backpack was lying flat against the side of the table now, and her hands were lying across the tablecloth, nearly on his.

His hand slipped back to him, off the table, onto his lap. “I guess I have other habits getting in my own way.”

“Ah - that’s right.”

“At least it keeps my boss off my back. Literally - he isn’t supposed to come close. Doesn’t always work, but-”

“But you’ll be out of there soon.”

“That’s right.” He sighed. “Exactly.”

The backpack’s woven strap came into view again. “I wish I could help you.”

The sounds around him seemed to dim, and he frowned. It was a difficult thing to hear. When was the last time he’d heard someone say that? Van was too cavalier, his brothers just distant entities. Forget about Rai, offering help explicitly would give him hives. And yet even a false, makeshift human could manage.

“But all I’m doing is intruding on your house.” Marina shook her short hair and took a long drink from her glass. “Are you sure it’s okay if I stay over?”

“Of course. I’m more concerned about you. If you need a place to be, to feel safe...”

“I don’t think Locke will really try anything.” The strap flipped, stretched like a cat’s tail. “But… I don’t know. So, thank you. To do all this for a stranger...”

“A stranger? That turns the question to, why do you trust a stranger so much you’d come to their house? What can I do to make myself less of a stranger?”

She stifled a laugh, again. “I guess it’s late in the day to be saying things like that.”

“It’s up to you, but after getting a taste of company, you know I won’t say no. Because of course,” he said, “it does get lonely.”

The empty cup slipped back into the round notch of the saucer with a click.

---

Waking up the sun on his face, light streaking across the pillows. The living room curtains were only a sheer, papery white slip, just enough for privacy, but not enough for the morning’s rays. Sao rose. In the cool dark confines of the bedroom he saw Marina on his bed. Or something like her.

It looked impeccably human.

Another morning, another bus ride to district where all roads led. Rai at his desk, giving the stapler a thorough workout. He hit it with his open palm, gloveless and blue. SNAP. The windows, the chairs, the walls, the pipes all rattled with each impact. Sao yawned. He did so again, more and more openly throughout the day. Rai rejected lunch and did not say a word until the end of the day.

“Night.”

That was all. He met Marina for dinner. The bulk of dinner ended up being a multi-layered cheesecake.

Another night on the couch, though he was beginning to suspect its curves were better for his back, and for his mind. His eyelids did not start to droop so early in the day, and he found he could make it through half of his hours without yawning. He relayed this theory to Marina over their next lunch.

“You’re welcome?” She laughed. “How’s your boss taking it?”

“I doubt that he notices. I can’t wait until I can wake up refreshed and not have to waste the day away in there.”

“I’m glad he lets you have a long lunch, though.”

“Once again. I doubt he notices. It’s all right - I prefer he doesn’t! And soon I’ll be out of his hair for good.”

He flashed his blue Chimera card and caught the eye of their smiling waitress before Marina had time to sift through her purse.

In the afternoon Rai had a lengthy argument with a detective over the office landline that culminated him trying to explain how percentages worked, and slamming down the receiver. Without taking notice of Sao’s hard work, he picked up his cell phone and started a barrage into that as well.

“Yeah, that’s what they said about the dinosaurs before the satyrs started getting involved in the world market. And look at the textile industry now--”

Out the door he went into the hall. He occupied the kitchen until it was time for the office to close. Before leaving, Sao took a peek. Rai was running two coffee machines at the same time and giving a lecture about ‘underground nests’ to whatever unfortunate soul was on the other end. Sao left him to it.

One more night. Flung over the white plain of couch, he and Marina caught a movie. It was her idea. The television hadn’t seen much use from him since he’d moved in, and it took a while to root out the remote control.

“Sometimes I wonder if people can see me through the television,” Sao said. “So I keep it off.”

“Really! You seem too good to worry about being watched. What would anyone see?”

“I don’t know. I do have a fear of being watched in my sleep.”

Automatically, Marina began searching the room with quick darting glances. Sao laughed. “Don’t look to worried. I’ve checked the place, so I know there’s nothing to worry about. Just irrational fears setting my mouth off again.”

The screen drifted on with a quiet buzz, settling on a dead channel. Sao’s skull ached at the sight of the bright blue rectangle. It reminded him of Rai. With Marina at the controls, the screen quickly flipped to a cascade of colorful posters. Marina sent them flying through the list with a swipe of some dark button.

“What kind of movies do you like?” she asked.

“I don’t know much about film. Something light would do.”

“Too many heavy cases at work?”

He gave her a soft, useless smile. “You could say I’m a bit gutless.”

“No blood then,” she said, voice firm. “How about this one?”

“Talking woodland creatures - isn’t it for children?”

She curled against the armrest. “You’d be surprised.”

The movie was devastating. As though his bones were disintegrating within him Sao slid further and further into the cushions as the legacy of a family of foxes began in a humble burrow, flourished in the city and slowly began to crumble. Dreams died, childhood friends departed forever and when the final twee musical number came on he had liquefied.

Sao stared at his feet, which had somehow come up nearly to eye level. He did not need more blows to the ego. He considered the case, and Marina. No, this was a shapeshifter. But if the original ended up being gone forever, this replacement was doing an awfully good job of playing human. A rocky start, but this creature knew more about his television than he did, spoke warmly, and laughed like any human. Moreso than Rai. But then, Rai wasn’t human either, was he?

“Hm?”

“Yes?” he said. The movie had ended. Credits trickled down the screen.

“You’re were looking at me. What did you think?”

“Decent.”

“Really? Didn’t get you at all?” She pressed her bottom lip. “It’s one of my favorites.”

His face must have been slightly flushed, but there were no tears. The tragedy of the foxes had been touching, but it would take a far greater impact to split that dam. Still, he touched his face. Smooth. Right - he wouldn’t look flushed at all.

Sao dimmed the lights and reached for the remote. “Let’s try another. But first, I need to figure how to work this thing...”

His choice of movie was terrible. The poster had been a lush frame of flowers before a sunset, a man with a gleaming smile and a woman with auburn ringlets mid-dance. The movie itself took place in a the city. The woman lived in a flat comparable to Sao’s, though even he had to admit it looked less sterile - the chairs didn’t match, there were books out of place. The walls were even browned a bit. There was something about about the comparison that bothered him. The woman was an artist down on her luck.

The man’s occupation was a little nebulous. He was ‘vice-chair’ of ‘the conglomerate’ and either he or the actor had the habit of clicking his tongue a little too often. What could be said for sure, Sao concluded, was that he was handsome and wealthy, and that was probably all that mattered.

The anguish peaked in the form of heated whispering between the two leads over a grimy ice-skating rink (still none of the advertised sunsets). Your golden locks. Your skin in the moonlight. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. Thoughts dragging, Sao reached for his phone but brushed something warm instead.

Marina’s small frame jolted slightly. She turned and he froze.

Her eyes glistened at the edges, pillowed in red. Her breathing in that moment that she faced him, there was a distinct wet bubbling.

His hand remained over hers until the scene came grinding to an end.

“That was a sweet ending,” he offered. “They survived. That’s already a happy end. And to forgo all naysayers, and start everything over for love… remind you of anyone?”

“Yes, it’s… wait, what?”

“God, I got it wrong, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I’ll admit I did doze off a bit in the middle..” Sao yawned. “It’s past my bedtime. I need to wash up.” What he really had to do was secure the paint on his face.

With a sudden jump, Marina landed on her feet, and stood before him. He nearly knocked into her and reeled back onto the cushions. “A-are you okay?”

“I... ” Her hair fell over her face. “No, no, no. What about you? You touched my hand.”

“Yes, I did. I felt you might need it.”

“But is it okay with you?”

“I have an aversion to touch, but it’s not fatal. Certain things break through. Certain people.”

“Why me…?”

“I don’t know.” Sao ran a hand over his hair. “It’s just as confusing for me. I haven’t managed to overcome this condition of mine for… years. Just call it a thank-you for showing me how to use my television.”

Now he was getting looks, as if he were the one who couldn’t pass as human.

“What?”

“How did you…” she rubbed at her sleeve, so long it covered her arm like a child’s pajamas. “How did you get to be like that? What makes someone afraid of touching skin?”

“Also a secret I wish I knew.” He slumped into the snowy pillows. “Is it really so bad? It wouldn’t be such an issue if I lived in a small town, where everyone wasn’t regularly packed into buses, on crowded streets and trains. Everyone’s always moving, it’s impossible not to tread in someone’s path. Like ants. Do any ants care about skin-to-skin contact? Or is that shell-to-shell?”

Marina considered this and snickered.

Sao gave a loud sigh. “You know what, maybe I’ll get out of the city after all this.”

“That’s a good idea. But where?”

“You’re asking all the hard questions tonight. Somewhere grassy. Somewhere you can see a sunset.”

Sao remained collapsed among the cushions after she had gone. The credits ended and the beautifully dishonest movie poster leapt back onscreen. Couple poised and smiling, hibiscus in bloom, a wonderful joke. He sat forward, cupping one hand in the other, and looked close. Was the lead actor in a wig? His hair was voluminous, almost carved, and rich maple brown.

A handsome, brown-haired banker. Prime target. And yet she - it? - had shed tears.

The sky was dark. The week wasn’t over, and she was still in his house, on the bed. But all he thought as he drifted off was that it was nice to see a bloodless movie, and without hands (gloved, glowing or his own toying with his phone) flitting in front of the screen.

---

Morning again. Marina was awake, and she had made an attempt at tea. Sao was impressed.

“You were right. It’s nice to have a morning ritual.” she said, sipping her own mug. “I think I prefer this over coffee too.”

Into his second cup that morning, Rai couldn’t have been more different. He didn’t even have to say anything. Of course, hadn’t been too talkative as of late - he didn’t even engage with Sao’s ribbing anymore, no matter how harsh. Striding into the office, Sao didn’t think to try anymore. But once seated, he realized he was caught in one of Rai’s deadly stares.

“You sent in your evaluation,” Rai said.

“That I did. Just this week. They let you see it already?”

“Called in a favor.”

Sao fed him a shallow smile. “Should you be telling me that?”

“I would have seen it eventually. But reading the supervisor comments, there was something... I wanted to confirm that it was you.”

“Not up to your standards, I see.”

Rai’s cup was set on the table with a chiseling crack. “I don’t understand you sometimes.”

“Well, I assure you, I read and re-read my words before submitting. You can be sure the report with my name is indeed mine.”

“As long as you’re sure of what you put down.” Rai turned back to his machines. A cloud hung over his last words of the day.

Without much more to offer, Sao ignored him. Within few hours, he finished the last transcript on his queue. He was three months ahead of schedule, a landmark occasion. Sitting back, he gave some thought to the trove of movies that had been unearthed within his home. Had the landlord been paying for the service the entire time? Or were all televisions like computers these days?

Rai was hard at work. On a trip to the bathroom, Sao saw a movie running on his second monitor. Another grainy serial murderer, chasing some grainy victims through the woods. He never seemed to tire of them. Occasionally, his hands flashed bright for a minute, like a power surge. Every other aspect of him steadily continued to work, but Sao noticed the flashes only occurred when he was watching his movie, or just before his attention was pulled back. Could it be, a sudden, well-hidden flash of terror?

He smiled. Rai did not notice. Tipping his headrest back, Sao considered pulling up one of the thrillers to watch with Marina. Best to avoid spilled guts and flayed bodies, but a ghostly tale might do. In his polished clean apartment, guards on the ground and the city in his window, a haunted house movie might not be so bad. Although, Marina might think it cowardly - well, was that really so bad?

By then, he was freely referring to the creature by her name.

On Friday morning, the heater stopped working.

It threw out a few ornery stutters that he would have ordinarily taken with good humor, then the life went out of it entirely. Sao did not try repairing the delicate fixture himself. In the morning gloom he could hardly locate so much as a tiny screw in the flush-edged paneling, and even if he did manage to pull the object apart, if part were to drop and roll under a cabinet, well, the landlord would know and it wouldn't be pretty.

Sao frowned and thawed his fingers on his morning tea, trying to catch the line of rising steam before it tapered off. He was afraid he’d knock the cup over. His arms were disembodied pillows when he wore a his coat indoors. He thought he saw his breath. The windows were shut tight but every inch of table, every tap and handle, all stung like blocks of ice.

The television screen regarded him darkly, as if it knew. There would be no movie tonight. The idea should never even have crossed his mind.

“I guess today’s the day,” he mused.

He pulled a notepad from the drawers under the book racks began to pen a message for the houseguest once she woke.

---

“Do you want to join me for lunch?”

With Sao standing directly before him, Rai had to remove his eyes from his screens. But he did not do so happily. “I’m a little busy.”

“Are you sure?”

“I know that I’m busy. Is there something you need?”

“Nothing in particular, but I thought it would be nice to catch up before....” Sao held his hands wide.

“What?”

“Oh, in case you have any advice to impart before I leave this evening.”

Rai’s jaw was set in stone. “What do you need need my advice for?”

“I've decided. Today's the day. Did you forget?”

Rai’s eyes narrowed. Then without warning, he kicked the chair back to a face Sao. “Thought you were the one who forgot.”

“It could mean the end of my time here,” Sao lamented. “Even if there’s no advice to give at this point, I’d appreciate a goodbye, or perhaps-”

“Give it a rest.” Rai shoveled an armful of papers into a drawer. “You’ve been leaving me out of the loop. For all I know, the real Sao is already long gone, replaced by a rogue shifter who finally learned how to properly excuse himself before disappearing from his job.”

“For all you know.”

Rai either did not believe what he said, or did not care. He was hopping about the desk, more spirited than he had been all week. He excavated his desk for his keys and wallet. With a snap of metal from under his papers, he fished up the keys. “So, how about lunch?”

---

Evening at last. She was mercifully prompt to arrive. It was so cold he could see his breath.

“How about dinner?”

That was from Marina. Sao couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” she asked, but she was smiling too.

“Just thinking of the occasion.”

“It’s a big one. Are you glad to be out of there for good?”

“It’s good to see that someone honestly remembered that today was my last day.”

“Of course, who-” She blinked, raised a hand over her mouth. “Oh. Your boss? Did he say something to you, he didn't forget, right?”

Sao hiked the plastic bag of belongings over his elbow and scoffed. “Let’s stop talking about him. What’s done is done. I feel like we both deserve a steak tonight. My treat.”

“W- why don’t you let me? I mean… since you lost your job. Well, it’s more that the job lost you.”

“I like how you put that.” He smiled at the sky. The stars were startlingly clear on the South side. “And you don’t have to spend anything on me – if you can keep this to yourself, I have a fair amount stashed away. Without much else on my plate, perhaps a few less extravagant meals a day, I can definitely survive until I’m ready to pick up work again. But today, let’s do steak.”

“I guess you’ve thought it through. No reason not to celebrate.”

He knew better than to attempt impulse high-end dining. He proudly led Marina to a reservation at what was surely the finest of local establishments. Candles lit and bubbling water set before them, Sao tapped out the most expensive cut on the menu. The waitress flourished him the broadest smile imaginable.

“Are you a regular?” Marina asked, once the food had arrived.

“I’ve been here before, but I definitely can’t afford to eat like this often. At least… not for lunch hours, in front of the boss.” Sao rolled out a napkin. “Money’s not really the problem. But if not for lunch then for dinner, and well, it didn’t sit right coming out by myself.”

“I know how that feels,” Marina said.

“Yeah. But here I am now, and lord is it better this way. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone.”

Marina went very quiet. But it was not for contemplation, more likely she had become fully absorbed in her tenderloin. Sao watched her a while, and began on his own plate.

“Okay, it may be true I already had people around me on the job,” Sao said, “But finding the right sort is just as important. Around certain characters, you’re better off being alone.”

“I hope I’m never like that.”

“I would say not. You’re one of the most enjoyable people I’ve met. It was a strange, rocky meeting, but I’d say a bit of strangeness helps move things along sometimes. Anyhow, when I make a fresh start, I’m hoping you’ll... I don't know. Come with me.”

Something distinctly human flashed over her when she heard that.

“I guess it won’t exactly be a clean break that way, but nobody has to know, right?”

And then a very different flicker.

“I still have a bit of history,” she murmured. “What if… one of the guys comes back. Locke...”

“We can be gone by then. Even the police won’t know.”

“Gone?”

“Oh, sorry - I'm getting ahead of myself. But you know, I wasn’t kidding the other night. I do intend to leave the city soon. I told my boss as much, too. It's more than just fair disclosure, it's a plan for the future. If he thinks I’m gone, he won’t try to reel me back in with last-minute emergencies.”

She nodded.

“No tickets yet, but I figured I'd run plans by you. I gave it some thought today, and I was thinking perhaps a move to the coast. A bit more sun and sand than you get here.”

“Sounds nice...”

“Don’t go spreading this information, alright? But I’m quite sure I have enough cash stowed away to plan a trip for two. Do you like beaches?”

Her face lit like a lantern.

“Not a fan?” Sao asked.

“No, that’s not - I mean yes! I mean - okay, to tell you the truth, I don’t know. I’ve never been to a beach.”

“I'm no better. It’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere near one. But I've heard great things about the food, about the sights and hospitality too . And the coast is far away from here. I’ve had enough of the cold.”

“But when it’s warm...”

“Hm?”

“Will your skin problem be okay?”

“How so?”

“You're always wearing suits and coats. They suit you, but... when it's warm, and everyone's in shorts...”

Sao folded his arms and frowned at his reflection in the window beside them. It was a thought so considerate he had trouble responding in kind. “I didn’t exactly think this through, did I? I've also heard that you aren't packed side-to-side with commuters, constantly. There's more space, and air. It could all be rumors, but I'd still go to have a look.”

“Me too.” She sighed. “Anything for a change.”

They studied their steaks. A thin film of blood coated Sao’s plate. He was overthinking things again - and why? Overcoming that was absolutely basic. He should have learned that by now.

“Okay,” Sao said. “So wherever we end up, it’ll be as clean a start as either of us can manage. Since you’re already here, let’s just say my new life starts today.” He laughed and raised a glass.

Marina was as relieved as he was by the grand, if hasty, gesture. They tapped the glass rims together and drank.

“Need any more?” the waitress asked.

“Mh.” Marina kept her head down. She had clearly been the target of the question, so Sao let her think it through. But instead, she picked at her plate.

“She’s a little shy. But we’re fine,” Sao said with a smile.

Once the waitress had gone, Marina raised her head. “I still can’t believe you’ve been alone all this time.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Marina glanced down the row of tables. “The waitress is flirting with you.”

“Are you sure? Even so, that’s not the same as being able to make friends.”

“I guess.”

Sao twirled his glass in his fingers. “You’d know more than me about that as well. You must have had friends before you went on the run with Locke and his bunch. What were they like?”

“They were… they were alright.”

“A couple of your friends were looking for you, when your missing persons report was up.”

“I mean, they were good people. That’s part of the reason why I can’t face them again after this.” Marina took a large gulp from her glass. Pushing things back down.

“Do you think you will one day?”

“I don't know.” Her lashes drooped.

“How about your job?” he asked, in a desperate final shot. “Why don't you see if they have any final compensation? You worked there a while. What was it you did again? What Marina did...”

She stared into the tablecloth. “I don't know. It doesn’t matter now. Besides, you understand me better than any of them could.”

Sao worked up a laugh.

“It's a bit of an act. Side effect of working with the police.”

“Ah, but you aren’t with them anymore!”

“I suppose I’ll have to just live with unsolved mysteries, then. Hmm, no more police. I could toast to that again.” But there wasn’t enough in the glass. Sao flagged down the waitress again, and this time Marina regarded her with a smile too. Perfectly cordial - a fast learner.

His chest tightened as he watched the waitress, her face red, leave them.

---

The bus stop. A subzero windchill kept both of their mouths shut, coat collars pulled high. They had both been silenced by the schedule. The timing could not have been worse. Though all buses seemed to wind up in the Southern district, catching the right bus out was not nearly so easy.

“Another point on the bucket list,” Sao said, breath rising over his collar.

“What was that?”

“Get my own car.” He puffed in quiet laughter. “I know I’m only considering that now that I’m standing here in the cold. When I move out, to the beach or the desert or perhaps to a volcanic island - I may never have to think that again.”

They sat under the metal canopy in silence. The metal bench was too cold to touch, so they remained standing, coats swaying.

“It’s not just my choice though, is it?” Sao said. “It’s yours too. Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?”

“Hm. I never thought much about travel until now.”

“Anywhere at all. Anyone you want to go back and see?”

“Definitely not!” She laughed now too. “I don’t mean my old friends. I guess I would go back if I had to. But I was thinking all the way back. Where I came from, you wouldn't believe the place I was born, the kind of people. Out in--” And she stopped.

Wind whistled between building, lit dark gold by the lamplight.

“Family troubles,” Sao said.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to say anything...”

“I know how that is. I’d sooner be go back and be boot-licker for my old boss than return to the family home. The good thing is, I don’t know where they are now, so there’s no chance of accidentally doing so.”

“And they aren’t looking for you?”

“Nope. Yours?”

Stiffly, as if she needed to defrost, she shook her head.

Sao searched for the moon. “If I could go anywhere at all, to be absolutely sure I’d never to found, I’d go up there. To the sky. Into the stars. Even if there’s life up there, or if other people went up too, space is so vast there’s very little chance of running into someone you knew. And for those who stay down on earth - well, half the time you can’t see the stars at all, forget seeing a tiny speck of a person. Hell, when you live in the city you can rarely see past the haze, even at night.”

Now Marina was looking up too, past the edge of the bus stop’s concave roof.

“It’s probably cold out there,” she said.

“You’re right. Dream ruined.”

“I’m sorry. It would be amazing to go, of course. To look down.”

“Another thought that got away from me while I stand here.” He sighed, releasing a long white cloud to the wind. “And I forgot too - it would get lonely.”

“Dark.”

“And naturally I can’t breathe outside the atmosphere. This plan’s getting away from me fast.”

She didn’t say anything. Perhaps things had gotten too silly, opening her mouth and losing heat wouldn’t be worth it. Or perhaps she'd had enough of him, at last. Time crawled, dragged, sagged.

“Sometimes I think ridiculous things when I think of escape,” Sao murmured. “If nobody stops me, I end up going and doing them anyway. Do you know how that is?”

“I… I think so.”

“I haven’t had anyone to talk to openly about this sort of thing until now, so I didn’t realize how ridiculous I sound. Without you, I’d be thinking of ways to launch myself into space.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not possible, right?”

“People have gone to space before.”

“It must be expensive.”

“Yes. But I may have more funds stored up than you think. Oh, as an aside, I’ve been meaning to ask someone more clever than myself - do you trust the banks?”

She blinked. “I… it depends. Why?”

“I’ve been wondering if it’s bad to keep the bulk of cash a home. Ah, well, it’s too late in the day to be changing things right now. All the better to make sure it’s all on hand when we leave.”

Marina breathed silent clouds.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” Sao chuckled.

Marina’s lips danced above her coat collar until the chill moved in again. An icy wind lashed the small metal bus stop. Sao stretched a hand out of his sleeve. “I can’t feel my fingers,” he said, truthfully.

Her eyes darted down. He kept his up. Until he was sure.

“This isn’t so bad,” he said.

She looped her small, pointed fingers through his. “Can’t feel anything?”

“Not yet. That’s why it’s not so bad.” He paused. “I can’t feel much else, either.”

That was not entirely true. He felt her arm getting closer. Her coat was make of some thick, velvety wool and he felt that too. Her other hand looped around and the feeling started to return to his arms, not a growing sensation from end to end, but in blotches, like the way his face warmed when stripped of its mask.

This was when he reached his free hand up, light as a ghost, and slid it under the curtain of short, round hair, wandering under the upturned collar of her coat and brushed against the unguarded flesh of her neck. The shoulder of the navy blue coat fell away an inch, and as a poorly done button of her white shirt fell loose, he saw the shadow of collabone, a black lace strap, and the gentle curve of her shoulder. And a shadow.

Not her, its shoulder.

He closed his eyes as if stung.

“Something wrong?” she said, and he heard the fabric flip back into place.

That was when the bus pulled around the corner.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rapid balloons of breath rising before his face. “That was inappropriate to do out here. I should have waited. At least until we got back to my place.”

“I… I don’t mind.”

“No, nobody should be disrobing out in the cold. I’ll try again at home. If I haven’t lost my nerve by then.” He laughed again, choppy with tension. “I guess I really do lose my mind when I’m waiting in situations like these.”

He pulled his coat tighter around him.

Her face was a mask, he knew one when he saw one. There wasn’t any tension, there was no frown to note, and she was not even looking at him in particular but he could tell, nearly feel it in himself, the thoughts rushing around in her. He blew a feeble heat onto his free hand. The other remained linked with hers.

The bus pulled up. When the liquid white light rolled over Marina’s face, the blankness washed away. She stepped forward, nearly into his chest and said, “It’s cold at your place.”

“Is it?”

“Your heater, remember? This morning I almost couldn't stand to touch the floor.”

“That’s right.” Sao groaned. “The heater. How could I forget? I'm all over the place tonight.”

“And your upstairs neighbors… their baby’s been loud at night. The mood...”

“Has it really been so loud? I must have gotten used to it. Tonight might not be such a fantastic new start then. I’m sorry.”

The door opened with a pneumatic hiss. Marina glanced into the bus. The driver did not so much as turn his head. They were simply two small, free shapes in the night. Even if they had gotten on, nobody would know where they'd go.

They did not get on.

“Do you mind waiting out here a little longer?” Marina asked. “I have an idea of where we can go instead.”