The Mary Brandon Aquarium was the only aquarium in Forks. Its exterior was clean, modern, and boasted of its many exhibits on colorful banners hanging from all sides. In the summer it would be as busy as any other major tourist attraction; in early January its attendance was at a yearly low. Sophia considered its selection of aquatic creatures to be quite adequate, though its informational placards were lacking.

She had visited the aquarium with Rachel 397 times in Hastur’s loops, but this would be the first time they had ever gone together in real life.

Sophia smoothed down her skirt and adjusted her book bag. If this were a loop date, Sophia would be wearing a low-cut top and a short skirt to tease Rachel and get her eyes wandering. Here in the real world, with the Jovians guaranteed to be watching, Sophia couldn’t afford to tease her beloved. To maintain the mask of innocence—the fiction that Sophia did not desire Rachel like Rachel desired her—she couldn’t treat their evening like a date. That meant sticking to a long skirt and a comfy sweater over her shirt.

I look like a librarian, she lamented. Of course, librarians are very brave and heroic members of our society who perform a vital civic service and there’s nothing wrong with looking like one or being one, obviously, and it’s a little silly to stereotype librarians as dressing conservatively when the sexy librarian trope is a thing, but what I’m really trying to get across is that Rachel will only want to ravish me a normal amount in this outfit and that’s really disappointing for our first date. Not that this is a date.

Athena pulsed noncommittal acknowledgment, its attention more on the task that Sophia had given it: scanning their environment for potential threats. Each person visiting the aquarium or taking a walk in its vicinity was analyzed for body language tells and checked against the list of witch and magical girl civilian identities that Sophia had spent most of ten years accumulating.

If the Jovians sent someone to disrupt her date, Sophia would see it coming.

“Sophia! You’re here!”

She turned around in surprise at the sound of Rachel’s voice. She’d swept that direction previously to feed its data to Athena, but she hadn’t been expecting Rachel to come from that way; their apartment was in the opposite direction. Did something cause her to take an alternate route? Had she been getting something to eat before their date? Was she spending time with her other friends again, like on Christmas Eve? No, that didn’t make any sense; Rachel should have been completely consumed by excitement for their outing. Maybe there was a clue in Rachel’s appearance as to where she’d been. If Sophia would just let Athena use its gifts on Rachel then—

Sophia refrained from hissing out loud or twisting her expression, but internally she visualized smacking Athena with a newspaper. No! Bad superpower! Don’t even think about it.

Whatever her reason for coming from an unusual direction—an incident only noteworthy because of how few times she could remember it happening in her loops—the important part was that Rachel had arrived. Her beloved was here, and now they could go on their date together. Not a date.

While Sophia had carefully crafted her outfit to dodge any accusation of dressing up or dressing for attention, Rachel was her polar opposite. Sophia’s adorable roommate was wearing a band shirt that bared her shoulders and a thin slice of stomach—more when she raised her arm to wave. Skinny jeans hugged her legs—accessorized with a few belt chains—and she completed the look with fingerless leather gloves. In a true rarity, she was wearing a full face of makeup. Black lipstick, of course.

Rachel always dressed up like that when they went out in the loops. It was like a suit of armor for her, projecting a tougher, more confident self. Daring people to look at her so they wouldn’t look at Sophia. Even after learning about Striga, those Rachels still wanted to play the part of Sophie’s knight in shining armor.

Rachel’s eyes betrayed that mask: bright and shining, full of earnest enthusiasm like a puppy being let out for a walk. A hint of mischief and roguish charm, certainly, but that only added to her cuteness. No matter how cool she tried to act, she’d always be that hopeless romantic who looked at Sophia like she was the sun.

Sophia’s heart ached. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to bury her face in Rachel’s hair and smell her shampoo. To kiss her until they couldn’t breathe. To take her hand and run away together.

But she couldn’t. Just as Striga could never remove her mask of ice, Sophia could never forsake the mask of innocence. To break it would doom them both.

The innocent Sophia liked having Rachel as a friend, and was happy to go on a friendly trip to the aquarium, like friends did. She enjoyed Rachel’s company, but only in a platonic way, of course, and she’d never even consider that their evening might be interpreted in a more romantic light. Sweet, innocent Sophia Lane probably didn’t even know what sesbian lex was and certainly had no desire to push Rachel into an alley, shove her fingers down those tight pants, and make Rachel moan until her legs were shaking.

Just two friends visiting the aquarium. Platonically. Not a date.

Sophia smiled warmly and waved back as Rachel approached. “Right on time! I’ve got our tickets already, so we’re good to go straight inside. That’s a good look on you, Rache. I feel like I haven’t seen you in an outfit like that in ages. God, maybe college days?”

Rachel preened at the compliment and did a little twirl to show off. “Something like that. New year, old me, right? You look great, too, Sophie.”

Sophia looked away shyly. “Aww, thanks. But I feel kind of underdressed next to you.”

“A Sophia is never underdressed, nor overdressed,” Rachel intoned. “She dresses precisely as she means to.”

Sophia giggled at the reference. She had fond memories of watching Lord of the Rings with Rachel after one of Rachel’s friends, Mordacity, sent them a pirated copy and insisted they watch the whole trilogy in one sitting. Rachel stuck it out through Fellowship and Two Towers, but fell asleep during Return of the King. Sophia got to enjoy Rachel leaning on her, dozed off with the cutest expression on her face, for nearly two hours.

“Let’s head inside,” Sophia said, and then she added with gravity, “We musn’t keep the fish waiting.”

“Perish the thought. Look out fishies, here we come!”

Over the course of 397 aquarium dates, Sophia had perfected her path through the structure for optimal enjoyment of both parties. They would start slow with the sea floor exhibits, visit the otters for a jolt of cuteness, and then channel that energy into petting some rays. After that, looking at sharks and eels would provide a nice breather before the grand finale: the illustrious jellyfish room.

There were many people who might struggle with an itinerary that strict, but Rachel was very good at doing what she was told—at least when it came to Sophia.

They went inside and made their way past beautiful coral formations, anemone clusters, and basking sea stars. Sophia had a genuine interest in ocean life, but most of her attention was on Rachel, and she knew Rachel’s attention would be on her. Rachel had been deprived of quality time with Sophia for so long that she’d be desperate for scraps of attention. Sophia was very precise in her messaging, knowing all the right things to say and do to make Rachel as happy as possible without signaling romantic intent.

A smile that’s warm and friendly, but not too intimate. Lots of eye contact, but never lingering. Fleeting touches on shoulders and hands. Sophia had constructed a list in her head of the correct body language to use with Rachel, all of it calculated to be as positive as possible without crossing the line into something outwardly flirtatious.

She hated it. Despite being very, very good at it, Sophia hated manipulating people. Especially Rachel. Everything would be so much easier and feel so much better if she could just speak honestly, tell everyone what she wanted from them, and have them all listen to her. And she knew that if she could just tell Rachel how she really felt, she’d never have to manipulate her like she did her fellow magical girls in Vanguard or the witches she secretly worked with. Her beloved would trust her. Her beloved would do as she asked. Her beloved would be her perfect partner if only they could be together.

Sophia wailed in her head, imagining herself banging on the walls of a padded room. God, I’m pathetic. I’m drowning in gay pining over a girl who likes me back while we’re on a date in an aquarium. Over a girl I’ve had sex with in a simulated time loop! What level of useless lesbian am I on? What is my life?

They went to see the otters next. Furry little critters with adorable noses that looked so cute when they yawned, but Sophia’s attention was, of course, more fixated on Rachel. Sophia had been through this experience hundreds of times, but this was Rachel’s first. It was always Rachel’s first, and that was what kept it feeling so wonderful each time.

While Rachel crooned over the furry babies, Sophia swept the room for threats. The employee watching over the otters and fielding questions seemed safe. The woman passing down the hallway didn’t match any face in Athena’s database.

The man leering at Rachel’s ass needed to be covertly murdered and disposed of, but she would have to do it in such a way that the act couldn’t be traced back to either of her identities. The modern surveillance state hampered such crimes, but she knew every blindspot in Forks. She’d get him alone, cut his throat, and carry his body discretely up to the mountains where it could be fed to a bear. Her greatest obstacle would be the Jovians mobilizing one of their pawns to catch her in the act. To preempt that outcome, she’d have to—

I’m plotting the murder of a random civilian. This is not conducive to my goals. Murdering the offender immediately would interrupt her date with Rachel, while murdering him later wouldn’t serve any purpose but petty vindictiveness. The risks involved were too high to pursue such a minor vendetta. Sophia positioned herself blocking the vermin’s eyeline and leaned over Rachel’s shoulder to watch the otters with her.

“That one looks a bit like you,” she teased, picking out a mustelid at random. “Maybe you’re an otter at heart.”

“How dare you,” Rachel said, pretending to be insulted. “If I were an animal, I’d be a wolf. Noble! Fierce! A cunning hunter!”

Domesticable, Sophia did not say out loud. “I always figured you’d be a crow,” she mused. “Crows are very clever, and they have an excellent memory for people they’ve interacted with. Hurt a crow and you make an enemy for life, but help a crow and you can earn their undying loyalty. I admire that trait, and I think it’s one you share.”

Rachel’s cheeks reddened at Sophia’s praise. “Yeah, well, I try. And wings are pretty good, so, sure. Crow Rachel.”

They got through petting the rays without incident, then visited the room with sharks, eels, and octopuses. Sophia explained that “octopuses” was the most accepted term and that “octopi” was strictly incorrect while “octopodes” was technically valid but would probably be rejected by a style guide. In case Rachel ever needed to write a formal paper about octopuses, for some reason—or more likely, in case she ever wanted to be pedantic on the internet.

Sophia kept expecting that one of those dazzling, genius octopuses would turn into an Echidna monster and start rampaging. Rhea would walk in and start talking to Rachel. The Syndicate would attack the aquarium to abduct Rachel. Something would go wrong.

But nothing happened. And then, at long last, they reached the jellyfish room.

It was a dark chamber, its cold luminescence serving to highlight the jellyfish in their tanks and nothing else. The strange, ethereal creatures seemed to float more than swim, drifting through the water, beautiful and mindless. Free of any burdens, made of tendrils and strange texture, colorful and translucent.

“Jellyfish are truly fascinating creatures with an incredible expression of biodiversity. They’re capable of both sexual and asexual reproduction, and their life cycles can feature more than ten stages of development. Imagine looking at ten different animals and being told that they’re all variations of the same species of jellyfish. For every free-floating medusa, there might be a bevy of polyps and larvae.

“Jellyfish are incredibly efficient in their use of energy. They create vortex rings as they swim that continue to push the medusa forward even after it stops exerting effort, like a bird catching a thermal but entirely self-directed. That same movement pattern can bring food to them through the churn of water, and some have a symbiotic relationship with algae that allow for photosynthesis as another energy source.

“There’s a specific species of jellyfish that’s considered biologically immortal due to its ability to revert to an earlier stage of its life cycle. They’re able to move between differentiated cells without an intermediate stem cell phase, which is a process that’s been used in humans to treat diabetic conditions by inducing liver cells to produce insulin. Still, our fumbling with genetics is nothing compared to the immortal jellyfish’s innate ability to maintain the length of its telomeres, which allows it to bypass or ‘reset’ its age on a cellular level.”

Even the aquarium employees couldn’t give explanations this interesting. She should be completely enraptured right now.

Rachel was staring at Sophia with an adoring smile and shining eyes. “You’re so cute when you really get into it like that,” she said, sounding utterly delighted. “I love the way you can get lost in a topic.”

Sophia wanted to kiss Rachel so badly. In a typical loop date, that’s exactly what would happen. She’d get close to Rachel and breathe her in and taste her lips and hold her close. They’d intertwine beneath the sightless gaze of the jellyfish, drowning in each other, until their desire ran too hot and they raced from the aquarium back home to sate their kindled passions.

But she couldn’t do that. To protect Rachel from the Jovians, Sophia was trapped inside the mask of innocence. So she made herself act shy and demure, grateful for the praise but not reading any deeper romantic meaning into it. “That’s very sweet, Rachel, thank you. It’s nice to hear you enjoy my silly rambling. This… this was really nice. I can’t wait to do it again. Next week, next Friday, for sure, okay?”

Microexpressions of disappointment washed over Rachel and were immediately discarded before a typical person would be able to notice them. Sophia saw them all, each one a dagger in her heart. But Rachel kept smiling. “It was really special. Thank you for this, Sophia. I’ve missed spending time with you.”

They parted ways at the aquarium entrance. The moment Rachel was out of sight, the mask of innocence was discarded and the mask of ice returned. Striga wove through the streets of Forks wearing Sophia’s expressionless face, then transformed in an appropriate blindspot. She flew to the nearest Ossuary entrance and was ushered directly to one of the hidden rooms in the uppermost layer.

There, in absolute privacy—guaranteed by oath—Sophia screamed.

“It’s not fair!” She picked up a wooden chair brought expressly to be destroyed and smashed it against the wall. She screamed again. “It’s not fair, not fair, not fair! I hate it!”

She picked up a chair leg and snapped it over her knee. She threw aside the pieces and clawed at her sides, eyes wide, teeth grinding. Her breath came heavy and ragged.

“There has to be a way,” she whispered. “I can’t take this. I have to fix it. I have to win. I have to kill them all and then Rachel will be mine and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and—”

She gasped for air, a shudder passing through her, and then in a fit of rage she grabbed another chair and slammed it into the ground—and its pieces—until it was a pile of splinters.

“I’ve got it!” she said with a sudden smile. “I’ll ask Herbalist or Lilith for a spell to accelerate my sleep. If it’s only for a month or two, the costs won’t add up to enough I need to worry about. And then, with extra hours every day, I’ll be able to get this Echidna business sorted in half the time. I’ll kill the egregores. I’ll kill the Jovians. And then Rachel will be mine. All mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, MINE!” Her last word was screamed into the soundproof room.

Sophia slumped. The manic energy bled out of her.

She whispered, “And then my long nightmare will finally be over, and I can rest.”

[commentary]

asa mitaka wishes she had autistic rizz like this bitch

A special thank you to my Grandmaster-tier patrons, whose support has kept food on my table: Adrian CC, Ashlyn, CaosSorge, Crows Danger, Demi, Lirian, M, Mgbm, Mhai Wind, Morrigan, October, Paige Harvey, PR4v1 Samaratunga, and Selacanis. Wow that’s a lot of you! Thank you so much!

If you like this story and want to see more of it, please go to the RR page and leave a rating or review! Web serials live and die on audience support, and this one is no exception. The better the story does on RR, the more people click through and read, the more motivation I have (both on a mental health level and on an “able to pay rent” level) to keep writing and to write faster.

The next scheduled break week starts on the 11th of January.

[/commentary]