Akiko trudged toward her bunk, legs heavy, brain heavier.

  All she wanted was to collapse under the thin blanket and sleep straight through to Stygia.

  No alarms. No orbital mechanics. No Cassandra and her constant glares.

  Just stillness.

  She was three steps from her alcove when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

  “Kim! There you are!”

  Akiko winced, then turned.

  Anna bounded toward her, grin wide, hair frizzed slightly from the ship’s humidity.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere! You’ll never guess what I worked on today—water treatment! Did you know the algae’s what keeps our air clean? Like, seriously, if that system goes down, we’re all dead before we reach Stygia.”

  Akiko blinked. Her brain hadn’t caught up yet.

  She opened her mouth, but her stomach beat her to it—growling loud enough to echo.

  Anna’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Someone’s hungry.”

  Akiko rubbed the back of her neck. “Guess I forgot to eat.”

  “Well, that’s unacceptable!” Anna grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Mess hall time. Now. If the machines are acting up again, I’m blaming you when everyone gets double desserts.”

  Too tired to protest, Akiko let herself be pulled along. Anna talked the whole way—algae systems, food processors, something about a crew member clogging the coffee dispenser.

  By the time they reached the mess hall, Akiko’s stomach was making threats.

  The space was quieter than usual. Just a few crewmembers scattered at bolted-down tables. She followed Anna to the dispensers, the hum of machinery filling the silence.

  Anna leaned in, voice low and conspiratorial. “And after you eat… you can tell me all about your day. And, you know…” She wiggled her fingers near her head. “The other stuff.”

  Akiko froze for a heartbeat, then forced a smile. “Right. Sure.”

  “Excellent,” Anna said brightly. “I can’t wait.”

  They grabbed their trays—nutrient-heavy, not quite flavorless—and found a table near the wall. Akiko sat across from her, picking at her food while Anna had already demolished half her tray.

  “So,” Anna said, eyes shining. “What’s it like in operations? I’ve never been up there.”

  Akiko sighed, resting her elbow on the table. “It’s a lot. Mostly sorting reports, keeping logs clean. But Cassandra? She’s watching me like a hawk.”

  Anna paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “Cassandra?” Her expression flipped into a wicked grin. “Oh! I heard about you and Ethan. She must be livid. Serves her right, the little witch.”

  Akiko blinked. “Wait. What did you hear about me and Ethan?”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Leaning closer, Anna lowered her voice. “Just that he’s been spending time with you. Everyone knows Cassandra’s got a thing for him. I bet she’s fuming.”

  “Great,” Akiko groaned, rubbing her temples. “That’s just what I need—more reasons for her to hate me.”

  “No, no,” Anna said, waving a hand. “You’re doing us all a favor. Cassandra needs someone to put her in her place.”

  She laughed, clearly enjoying the image.

  Akiko gave her a tired smile. “Well, she didn’t love the report I finished today. Couldn’t find anything wrong with it.”

  “See?” Anna clapped her hands together, eyes bright. “You’re already winning.”

  Akiko took another bite. The food was warm. It helped.

  But then Anna’s grin turned sly.

  “So… Ethan,” she said, dragging the name out.

  Akiko nearly choked. “What?”

  Anna leaned in, elbows on the table. “He’s cute, right? Are you gonna show him your—” She wiggled her fingers again in mock ears.

  “I bet he’d love that. Cassandra would lose it.”

  Akiko stared at her. “What? No! Why would I do that?”

  “Why not?” Anna shrugged, entirely unbothered. “You’re already way cooler than Cassandra. Throw in a little fox magic and she’s toast.”

  Akiko buried her face in her hands. “I’m not showing anyone anything.”

  “Okay, okay,” Anna laughed. “But if you change your mind, let me know. I’d pay good credits to see Cassandra’s face.”

  Akiko shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

  “Yup,” Anna said cheerfully, popping the last bite of her meal into her mouth. “That’s why you love me.”

  As they finished their meal, Akiko felt Anna’s gaze lingering—expectant, bright, impossible to ignore.

  She sighed, setting her tray aside and rising.

  “Alright,” she said, motioning for Anna to follow. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Anna asked, bouncing to her feet.

  “Somewhere quieter.”

  They wound through the ship’s corridors, the hum of distant machinery filling the silence between them. Eventually, they slipped into the hydroponics bay. Pale green light cast soft shadows across rows of plants, the air warm and damp with life.

  Akiko led them to a quiet corner.

  She turned and crossed her arms. “You’ve got until I decide to go to bed,” she said. “Ask whatever you want.”

  Anna’s face lit up. “Okay! What’s it like having ears and a tail? Are they sensitive? How do you make them vanish? Were you born with them? Can you—”

  Akiko held up a hand. “One at a time.”

  Anna grinned, only slightly sheepish. “Right. So… were you born with them?”

  “Yes.” Akiko shrugged. “It’s just part of what I am.”

  Anna nodded quickly. “And the vanishing act?”

  “Magic.”

  Anna’s eyes went wide. “Wait. Like, real magic? Not tech? Not implants? You’re telling me you can actually do magic? Like—zap! Lasers?”

  Akiko laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That sounds more like my sister, Kaede. She’s the disciplined spellcaster. I’m more… improvisational.”

  “Define ‘improvisational.’” Anna leaned in close.

  Akiko extended a hand, focused, and conjured a flicker of pale flame. It danced above her fingers for a heartbeat before sputtering out.

  Anna gasped. “Was that fox-fire?”

  Akiko nodded. “It’s harder here. Everything’s… muted. Magic doesn’t like this world.”

  Anna’s expression turned curious. “Muted how?”

  “Machines don’t like it,” Akiko said. “Like the food dispenser the other day.”

  “Wait.” Anna’s mouth dropped open. “That was you?”

  Akiko hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “Let’s just say I nudged it in my favor.”

  Anna laughed. “So, you used magic to break the dispenser and get a snack.”

  “It wasn’t intentional.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m filing that under ‘accidental genius.’” Anna grinned. “Seriously though—that’s amazing.”

  Akiko smiled faintly. “Magic isn’t always convenient. It doesn’t fix everything. And here… it usually causes more problems than it solves.”

  Anna’s expression softened. “Still. It’s part of you. And it’s incredible.”

  Akiko blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly. “But I’m just trying to get by. Same as anyone.”

  “Well, you’re doing a pretty great job.”

  Anna leaned forward, eager. “So how does it work? The shifting. Is it a ritual? Do you snap your fingers? Think really hard?”

  Akiko chuckled. “No ritual. I just… focus. It’s like pulling on a cloak. You imagine the change, and it happens.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  Akiko hesitated. “Not exactly. But it’s draining. Especially here.”

  Anna nodded, thoughtful now. “Could you stay human? Forever, I mean.”

  Akiko frowned, gaze drifting to the softly glowing plants.

  “Maybe. But it wouldn’t feel right. My kitsune form is who I am. This—” she gestured to her current shape “—is a mask. Useful. But not… me.”

  Anna made a small “oh” of understanding, nodding again.

  “Are there others like you? Where you’re from?”

  Akiko leaned back against the wall. “Yeah. We’re not common, but we’re known. People recognize the name. Doesn’t mean they like us.”

  Anna frowned. “Why not?”

  Akiko smirked, wry. “We’re trouble, supposedly. Tricksters. Bad omens. If something goes wrong, people blame the kitsune.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  Akiko shrugged. “Kaede used to say it’s easier to blame a stranger than admit you don’t understand the world.”

  Anna looked down, thoughtful.

  “That why you hide it?” she asked. “Start off human?”

  “Most of the time. Kaede always said it was better to blend in first. Let people know you before they know what you are.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Sometimes,” Akiko said softly. “But it’s exhausting. You can’t be yourself if you’re always hiding.”

  Anna nodded, the silence between them suddenly deeper.

  Then her smile returned—gentle this time.

  “You don’t have to hide with me,” she said. “I think you’re awesome. Just the way you are.”

  Akiko blinked, heat rising in her chest. She laughed, a little shaky. “Thanks, Anna.”

  “Anytime.” Anna winked. “Now—what else can you tell me?”

  Akiko grinned, pushing off the wall. “That’s enough for tonight. We’ve got a long trip ahead.”

  Anna pouted dramatically. “Fine. But I’m keeping a list.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Akiko turned toward the exit.

  “Goodnight, Anna.”

  “Goodnight, Akiko.”