On the deck of the ship, Roger was throwing off pieces of the broken cabin and putting out fires with a bucket. Sumire was leaning over a paralyzed JS—that’s what she called the imperial soldier since he could talk right now, couldn’t move. Not besides the chattering of his teeth.

Roger had stopped the boat so they were at a standstill in the middle of the ocean. No shore in sight. Having changed directions so many times, it was anyone’s guess where they were.

Sumire wasn’t just leaning over, she was bandaging the man. A first aid kit opened next to her, she disinfected with wipes, cleaned the wounds around his arms of blood, put on gauze, and wrapped them. She looked JS over for any wounds she’d missed.

She looked at JS’s face. His mouth was moving… Is he saying something? She studied his lips. He was trying to say something. She put her ear to his mouth and heard faint words in Japanese.

“Me… kill me…”

Sumire felt panic rise from her gut, fluttering up to her chest and staying there. Eyes were wide open, both hers and his. She scanned around her, on the floor. There was a pool of blood puddling up at his head.

As gently as she could she pushed JS to his side and ran her fingers through his short blood soaked hair—looking. She gasped when she found it.

“Roger! Roger, come here!”

She grabbed a dark red, bloodied towel and tried to wipe it clean. Grabbed a disinfectant wipe, tearing it open. Roger walked over with some nonchalance. He stood in the light of the sun, making a silhouette.

“Roger, what do you do when someone has a head injury?”

She looked up to him, at his shadow. It shrugged. “Put him out of his misery.”

She looked at JS’s teeth chatter, his hands shaking violently. She shook her head. “No, really! What do you do!”

“We don’t have the knowledge to save him, and even if he did we don’t have the tools. He’s a lost cause, Sumire. I’m sorry.”

Sumire went to grab the gauze. Her hands were shaking too much, and she dropped it. Tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked. The tears fell down her cheeks.

“Roger…”

“Yes.”

“Will you—kill him for me.”

“Yes, I will.”

Sumire felt a stickiness on her hands. She looked at them, shaking. Covered in oxygenated blood. She was shaking. She got up off the ground on wobbly legs, tears flowing, slouched over. She walked downstairs, directly to the bathroom. At the time she couldn’t tell you why or where she was going.

Her mind was blank as she stumbled into the sink, trying not to get blood on the handles but failing. That makes three people I’ve killed, she thought. That was her first thought. She stopped crying.

She was mortified.

She rubbed her hands in the running water as best as she could. But now I’ll always have blood on my hands. Sumire looked up, looking into the mirror, at her reflection. Someone else looked back. Those eyes were bloodshot, wide open.

Whoever stood in that mirror wasn’t her.

A gunshot went off, faint yet distinct. A strong shiver went down her whole body and she cringed her face up. She reached to grab the towel but instead her legs failed and she slumped down to the floor. Her body felt numb.

Loud footsteps, running down the stairs. Roger threw open the bathroom door. “Sumire,” he said.

Sumire’s mouth opened and closed. Roger knelt on the ground, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. The words came to her, waking her up. “I thought—maybe if I saved him… it would make a difference.”

“Sumire, anyone who meets you with violence should expect violence in kind. You did the only thing anyone could.”

Sumire sniffled, looking down at the floor. “We had to kill him… I don’t believe that… I’m no different from them.”

Roger gently slapped her right cheek three times. She barely felt it but looked at him. His blue eyes felt so intense as their eyes met.

“Something had to give, Sumire.” Her name felt so foreign. “They would have killed me, or worse. But you knew that and protected me. You show kindness and remorse and that makes you human. More human than these men that attacked you.”

“Huh?”

“I could tell you all the reasons why you’re different, but would you listen right now? Besides, it’s all about balance. Do you want me to take you to your bed?”

“Balance? Killing?”

Roger nodded vigorously. “Yeah, as long as you balance the good and bad. Have you ever been to the Shrines, Sumire?”

“When I was young.”

“They teach you this at the Shrines. I practically grew up in one. Everything is about balancing the good and bad—so that at the end of the day you can say you did everything you could and feel satisfied. You did everything you could. I’ll teach it to you. Can you stand?” w

Roger found her hand and gripped it tight. It brought life back to her, his hand felt so sure in hers. She gripped back and started to stand up with Roger’s help.

“Stay with me…”

“I will,” Roger said. “Whatever you need, Sumire.”

Hand in hand, Roger led her down the small hall to a cabin. She wiped her eyes and cheeks. It was her cabin, the one she woke up in. They took a seat on the bed. Roger on the end and Sumire at the front with a pillow.

“You should lay down,” Roger said. “Sleep it off.”

“…”

Roger sighed. “Want to hear about balance?”

Sumire nodded, looking at the floor.

“It’s like—a doctrine. Of the Shrines of Helios. It says that you should be skeptical. Don’t take anything at word value, because everything has layers to it. They call that ‘the theory of knowledge.’ Can you guess what that’s about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Basically somebody learned something from someone, but how did they acquire that knowledge? Be skeptical. Killing isn’t always bad, Sumire. Not when it’s in self defense, like this. You were protecting something.”

“I was protecting you…”

“Yeah, you were.”

She slumped over on the pillow next to her, her legs hanging off the bed. “I think that’s what I needed to hear.”

“The Shrines say that you should ask why something is good or bad and that maybe there is no such thing. If good is white and bad is black the world is gray. Who makes the rules, anyways? You did the only thing anyone could,” Roger said.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Sumire said. She threw her legs on the bed.

“Good. I’ll be at the controls, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sumire closed her eyes. Her body was slowly regaining feeling. She thought about balance. It sounded profound to her, she who lacked balance her whole life, the girl who’d been kept in a palace.

And maybe I’ll drift to sleep…

= = =