He looks like he wants the water to swallow him whole.
The pool’s edge is already crowded with shadows.
Bob has taken up position near Kaia’s discarded clothes, standing at rigid attention like he’s guarding state secrets. His posture radiatesI am watching everything and judging all of it.
Patricia hovers beside him, notebook flickering at a leisurely pace. Documenting. Always documenting.
Finnick does a lazy flip through the air — showing off for no one in particular. Linda drifts nearby, radiating quiet approval.
And the Eds…
Two of them sit at the water’s edge. Then three. They bob gently, attention fixed on the pool. On us.
Walter floats overhead, pulsing with soft starlight, completely unbothered by everything.
“Your shadows are staring,” Torric says to Kaia.
She glances at the pool’s edge and sighs. “They always stare. You get used to it.”
“Do you though?” Finn asks. “Because Bob’s been giving me a look since I got in, and I’m starting to take it personally.”
Bob’s posture somehow becomes more rigid.
“He’s protective,” Kaia says.
“He’sterrifying. In an adorable, I-could-end-you kind of way.”
Patricia’s notebook flickers faster. Recording.
“Great,” Finn says. “Now I’m being documented. By shadows, that I named. This is fine. Everything is fine.”
The conversation drifts into safer waters.
Finn makes a crack about Japti’s architecture — something about the cavern looking like “someone’s very specific fever dream.” Torric argues with Aspen about whether the berserker carvings in their hall were “badass” or “overdramatic.” Aspen maintains they were historically accurate. Torric maintains they weremetal as fuck.
Kieran offers quiet context — how Japti was built before the first Valkyrie walked, how the halls have been dormant for millennia. His voice carries the weight of someone who’s seen centuries unfold, and I find myself listening more closely than I expected.
“So we just… woke them up?” Kaia asks.
“You woke them up,” Kieran corrects gently. “The rest of us just followed.”
Something flickers across her face — uncertainty, maybe. Or the weight of being the center of something ancient and enormous.
Finn bumps her shoulder with his. “Don’t get a big head about it, Trouble. We’re still not letting you pick restaurants.”
She laughs — the right kind of laugh. Surprised. Real.
I feel something in my chest loosen at the sound.
I can’t help but pay close attention. Watch the dynamics, track the undercurrents, notice what people reveal when they think no one’s paying attention.
Kaia is more relaxed than I’ve seen her in days. Her shoulders have dropped from their usual defensive hunch. A few Eds circle around her like excited children.
She’s beautiful like this. Unguarded. Present.
Finn keeps glancing at her — quick looks followed by quicker deflections. He’s been doing that for months. Looking and then looking away, like he’s afraid of being caught wanting something he doesn’t think he’s allowed to have.
I know that feeling intimately.
