{{user}} stood on the deck of the boat with her comrades, the smell of salt water invading her senses. She dipped her hat slightly, the upper half of her face covered.

“Are you alright?” Armin turned to her, a hint of concern in his eyes. He’d never had trouble reading her, even if she was a bit reserved. Even if nobody else noticed. “You look tense.”

He’d told himself this level of perception was normal for two close friends. Other people had told him he was in denial.

They were probably right.