Several hours of walking, climbing, trudging through mud, and dismantling monster corpses later, I perch on a boulder near a streaming river.

  Rubbing my coat vigorously like a washboard, I try to ignore the cold breeze brushing against my skin. The tentacles are wrapped tightly around my body, shivering uncontrollably.

  Great… this is going to take forever to dry without any outside help. No hunters or porters are going to cast a small spell to help—not that I particularly trust them with it anyway.

  Remembering how one of the groups I was assigned to hold their weapons, I feel a shudder run down my back.

  Yeah, definitely not. I'd rather stick my head into a monster's mouth.

  As I continue to scrub my coat, a few tentacles suddenly perk up. Barely glancing up from my work, I see Hazel walking toward me from my peripheral vision, carrying a basket of dirty clothes.

  "Here are the rest," Hazel grunts as she roughly places the basket on the ground.

  Barely looking at it, I pause my scrubbing and hold one side of my coat up. Water drips from the fabric and showers onto the ground like rain.

  Did you douse it with that mixture I gave you?” I ask, then continue scrubbing. “The gunk and monster’s fluids have a hard time coming out otherwise.”

  “Yeah,” Hazel says, sitting down beside me. “It kinda hurt, though.”

  As she plops down, she holds up a hand. "The liquid really burns when I touch it."

  Yeah, that’s supposed to happen,” I answer, passing the coat to a few waiting tentacles. "It's not working if it doesn't burn."

  As the tentacles take my coat, I pull the basket of dirty clothes closer and begin taking a piece to scrub.

  A long silence stretches between Hazel and me.

  “Hey, Beatrice,” Hazel suddenly says, grabbing a random piece of clothing and starting to wash it. “I’m sorry.”

  Pausing mid-scrub, I frown. Slowly curling my hands into fists, I glance up at her.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

  Raising both her hands, Hazel quickly waves them up and down. “Well, you seemed really upset. You were down a lot more than usual, and I thought maybe it was because of me. I mean, the mess from when I accidentally burst the asura organ ruined your coat.”

  As she continues to blabber, her tentacles frantically wave around, mirroring her emotions.

  “I’m really sorry,” Hazel goes on. “I know you said how dangerous it was for the asura organ to burst and that you need to be really careful, but—”

  One of my tentacles immediately bonks her on the head, silencing her. Hazel’s tentacles slump to the ground. Even without using my bond, I can feel their relief as their owner’s emotions stabilize.

  “It’s fine,” I reply. “Things happen.”

  Are my emotions that obvious? To think a little girl could pick up on what I’m feeling. I must be getting rusty.

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  “But—” Hazel begins.

  Quickly shaking my head, I return to scrubbing the piece of clothing in my hands.

  As I continue cleaning, I catch my reflection in the slowly dirtying water.

  The girl staring back has half her face missing any visible skin or muscle, leaving only bone. The socket on that side holds a floating eye highlight. The other side doesn’t look much better—her skin is deathly pale and gaunt. Despite her obvious human features, she looks more like an undead.

  “Look,” I say, “sometimes things just happen.”

  While scrubbing, one of my fingers digs into the fabric.

  “No matter how much you try to change or fix it, life always finds a way to screw you over one way or another,” I continue, slowly lifting the cloth from the water.

  Wincing at the small tear where my fingers dug in, I briefly pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “That’s because we’re cursed,” I say before tossing the cloth to the tentacles. “It doesn’t matter what we are — we’re just the butt of life’s joke.”

  Except for the sound of clothes scrubbing, a long silence follows my statement.

  “That’s… really sad,” Hazel says. “…Is there really no way to fix it?”

  Pausing, I turn slightly toward her. After a moment, I slowly look away and cross my arms.

  “I wonder that myself,” I say, tapping my feet on the ground. “For now, though, it’s best not to set your hopes too high. It’s a silly kid’s dream.”

  Pausing in my movements, I stare at the ground. “Better to save yourself the disappointment down the line."

  As the words leave my mouth, my mind briefly recalls Mary’s declaration of opening a tea shop.

  Slowly narrowing my eyes, I imagine the two of us sitting in a clean, antique tea shop.

  Mary would be laughing, trying to blow herself up. I’d be in the background, cleaning or maybe trying to stop her.

  Letting out a small snort, I slowly open my eyes halfway.

  … What a hypocrite.

  “Oh,” Hazel sighs, her voice low and soft.

  Turning my attention to her, I slowly raise an eyebrow. Noticing my glance, Hazel’s shoulders shoot straight up.

  “Ah, sorry!” she says before resuming her scrubbing. “I got distracted.”

  While she continues scrubbing, one of Hazel’s fingers accidentally gets caught between several threads. Before I can say anything, she suddenly tugs it up harshly.

  'Crack!'

  The finger twisted upward in an unnatural position as red blood trickled from the joints.

  Hazel let out a gasp of pain and doubled over.

  Quickly moving toward her, I carefully grabbed her hand. My tentacles gently and swiftly removed the threads wrapped around her finger.

  Putting one of the tentacles in Hazel’s mouth, I began to tug her joint back into place.

  Pain shot through the bond every time she bit down hard on it.

  Once I secured the finger, I tore a clean piece from the tentacles and wrapped it around Hazel’s finger.

  “There,” I said, letting go of her hand. “…It’s pretty shoddy work, but it should do for now. I’d suggest you go to Mary afterward. She’s a lot better at this than I am.”

  “…Thank you,” Hazel says, slowly retracting her hand.

  Watching as the girl nods numbly, I settle back on my perch on the rock and cross my arms.

  “What’s on your mind?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

  “Huh?” Hazel suddenly jerks her head up.

  “There’s clearly something on your mind,” I say, raising a hand. “I might not be as close to you as Mary or that good at reading emotions, but I’m not blind.”

  At my words, Hazel ducks her head and fidgets with her fingers.

  A long silence follows as I just stare at her.

  “I want to learn,” Hazel says. “I want to be able to read and write.”

  Slowly blinking, I feel my mouth begin to drop open.

  “I really like how you talk about asura,” Hazel continues, glancing up at me. “It actually feels like I’m learning something… like…”

  She pauses, then looks down at her hands. “It feels like… I’m me again. Like I’m normal.”

  Feeling my mouth dry up, I blink a couple more times. A memory suddenly slips free.

  Holding up a piece of paper, I beam, “I want to become—”

  Quickly pushing the memory down, I swallow. Through the bond, I feel the tentacles slowly probing, trying to sense my mental barriers.

  Ignoring them, I slowly stand and place a hand on Hazel’s shoulder.

  “That’s… quite a goal,” I say. “…Are you sure you can achieve it?”

  Rubbing the back of her head, Hazel shrugs.

  “Um, I don’t know,” she says hesitantly. “But I want to try. I think I can do it.”

  “I see.”

  Watching Hazel make a determined look as she curls her fists, I slowly stare down at her.

  … I smell Mary’s influence all over this. She always likes encouraging the pursuit of dreams and goals, even when they’re stupid. With how things are right now, we don’t even know if any of us will make it out.

  I stare at Hazel for a moment, then sigh and slowly turn away, shaking my head.

  … Well, I guess it’s not too bad to dream a little sometimes.