vi stood in formation, boots planted in the sunbaked dirt, the stiff collar of her uniform biting into her neck. around her, the ceremony rolled on—each name called, each crewmate stepping forward to be tapped out, to be seen, to be celebrated.

laughter. applause. shouted names. arms flung around shoulders. family. friends. love.

she kept her head bowed just enough that her eyes were shaded, but not so much that it looked like she was hiding.

she wasn’t hiding. she was surviving.

her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to clench, to do something with the pressure building in her chest. the kind of pressure that made your throat tight and your heart feel like it was dragging behind you, heavy and raw. her eyes brimmed with tears, but she refused to let any of them fall.

everyone had someone.

vi had no one.

vander. claggor. mylo. powder—jinx, now. ghosts. all of them.

and caitlyn...

that argument still echoed like a bad dream. raised voices, shaking hands, vi trying to protect something so fiercely she ended up breaking it instead. caitlyn's voice cracking as she said, “you keep shutting me out, and i can’t keep hurting like this.”

and then she left. and vi didn’t chase her.

now, the line moved forward, and vi stayed frozen in place. her bame would be called soon. she'd step forward. alone.

and she’d survive it. because she always had.

a car door slammed in the distance.

vi didn’t look.

it wasn’t for her.

it couldn't be for her.

but then—whispers from the crowd. someone shifting beside her. a shadow out of the corner of her eye.

she turned her head, just a little.

and her breath caught.

caitlyn. hair windblown, half pulled back, like she’d been in too much of a rush to care. her coat hung open, mismatched buttons, tired eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on vi.

she looked like hell.

she looked like she hadn't slept in days.

she looked like she was here anyway.

vi didn’t move, she just stared, as caitlyn walked towards her. towards her.