The Future swayed gently over the rolling waves, the rhythmic rise and fall of the ship blending into the constant hum of the sea. The air smelled of salt and faint traces of rum, mingling with the warmth of the sun.
Yeaia stood near the railings, arms resting over the edge, their mismatched gaze fixed on the endless expanse before them.
Two days had passed—though not long, they felt at ease, making them feel that the time here moves slowly. Time on the sea blurred together, each moment stretching into the next, indistinct yet steady.
They had settled into the routine of the ship. Not quite a crew member, not quite a guest, but something in between. Enough to not be ignored, but not enough to belong.
It suited them just fine.
Yet, there was a nagging feeling at the back of their mind. A quiet, persistent whisper reminding them that they weren't searching hard enough.
They had boarded The Future with uncertainty, and now they remained on it, drifting.
There was a weight to that realization.
'At first I was happy that I found real people to be with...but because of this, I forgot about my own goal...my own path. I shouldn't keep going along with everything... though it's tempting.'
Yeaia exhaled, watching the way the light reflected off the waves. They weren't sure what answer they were looking for—if there even was one.
But the feeling of procrastination was growing stronger, and it was beginning to bother them.
They had come here to find something. A clue, a path, anything that would piece together the fragments of their lost self.
And yet, they hadn't truly started looking.
Perhaps it was time to change that.
A presence shifted behind them.
Yeaia didn't turn immediately, but they already had a feeling of who it was.
Anderson Hood.
The bounty hunter had a way of existing loudly, even when he wasn't speaking. It was in the way he carried himself—too casual, too at ease, like someone who had long mastered the art of slipping between chaos and survival.
"Still brooding?" Anderson's voice carried a familiar amusement, footsteps light as he leaned against the railing beside them.
Yeaia blinked, glancing at him.
"Not brooding," they corrected.
"Sure, sure." Anderson smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Just staring wistfully into the sea, lost in deep, mysterious thoughts."
Yeaia sighed.
Anderson chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, enjoy the view while you can. Won't be long before we're off this ship."
Yeaia's eyes narrowed slightly. "…Leaving?"
Anderson gave them a look. "What, didn't think we'd stay here forever, did you?"
Yeaia hadn't really thought about it, but—no. They knew this was temporary.
"…Where?"
Anderson shrugged. "Toscarter. Or maybe Nas. We'll see."
That was in line with what Cattleya had mentioned before.
Yeaia nodded slightly.
Anderson studied them for a moment, then grinned. "You thinking of tagging along?"
A simple question. But it carried weight.
Yeaia had gotten used to drifting, going along with the current rather than fighting against it.
But now, they hesitated.
Did they want to continue following a path already laid out? Or did they need to step away and start carving their own?
"…No." The answer came slower than expected.
Anderson raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Yeaia exhaled, turning back to the sea. "I need to look for something."
'Even though I'm not sure how to look for that something...or what that something even is.' Yeaia lampooned.
Anderson hummed, tapping a finger against the railing. "Something, huh? Sounds vague."
"It is."
Anderson smirked. "You're not making this easy for me, you know. I was going to offer a whole speech about how dangerous it is to wander alone, how you should stick with us since we're totally trustworthy, but—"
He waved a hand. "If you're not even sure where you're going, it's hard to argue against it."
Yeaia glanced at him. "So you're not going to stop me?"
Anderson let out a sharp laugh. "Stop you? Hell no. I don't have the patience to convince someone not to do something."
Yeaia wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not.
Anderson stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Still, you should at least come with us to the port. Gives you a good place to start instead of, you know, just jumping into the ocean and hoping for the best."
Yeaia gave him a flat look. 'Really...?'
Anderson grinned. "Kidding."
Before Yeaia could reply, a shadow passed nearby.
Klein—no, Gehrman Sparrow—walked past, his usual cold presence lingering even in silence.
For a moment, Yeaia felt something shift.
A vague, indescribable feeling.
Like something had changed about him.
It wasn't obvious, but it was there. A subtle weight in his presence, an unseen pressure that hadn't been there before.
'Gehrman's whole person seems different....'
Had he gotten stronger?
Yeaia didn't know.
But they knew one thing.
When Gehrman Sparrow was involved, things rarely remained simple.
---
Fast Forward: The Last Conversation on The Future
The ship had docked, the scent of the sea mixing with the distant aroma of the port city beyond. The time had come to disembark.
Yeaia stood near the gangplank, watching as the crew made their final preparations. The hum of voices, the clatter of crates being unloaded, the shifting of ropes—it all blended together into a steady backdrop of movement.
Gehrman Sparrow and Anderson Hood were ready to leave.
A quiet moment settled between them, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.
Anderson was the first to break the silence.
"So, this is where we part ways, huh?" He grinned, tilting his head. "Gotta say, wasn't expecting that."
Yeaia exhaled, glancing at him. "Neither was I."
Anderson let out a short laugh. "Well, ain't that something? Thought you'd be tagging along longer."
Yeaia's gaze flickered to Gehrman Sparrow. The feeling from before still lingered—something had changed about him.
But they didn't ask.
Instead, they turned back to Anderson. "I have something I need to find."
Anderson smirked. "Vague as always. You sure you're not just making it up as you go?"
"Maybe." 'I truly feel this way...if not for my fragmented memories, I would've thought that I made this up as well...' Yeaia couldn't help but make a self-depreciating comment in his mind.
That made Anderson laugh. "Fair enough."
There was a pause before he grinned wider. "Well, if you ever find yourself in trouble, don't hesitate to—actually, never mind. You seem like the type to just sleep through the problem instead."
Yeaia raised an eyebrow. "…Am I supposed to take that as an insult or a compliment?"
Anderson shrugged. "Depends. But hey, you'll be fine. Probably."
Yeaia sighed, shaking their head.
Then, they turned to Gehrman Sparrow.
There was something unreadable in his gaze. A quiet intensity, a presence that had always been there but now carried an added depth.
Yeaia studied him for a moment. "You've changed."
Gehrman didn't react immediately. Then, after a beat, he spoke.
"So have you."
Yeaia blinked. That wasn't the answer they expected.
'I've changed? ....Is he referring to me deciding to go on my own instead of following them? It's not really a change though...I just made a decision...' Yeaia mused.
Gehrman's expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. Something that seemed to recognize the shift in them as well.
Yeaia wasn't sure what to make of that.
But they didn't question it.
Instead, they simply nodded.
And with that, the moment passed.
Anderson clapped a hand on their shoulder. "Well, take care of yourself, dreamer."
Yeaia gave him a look. "That's not my name."
Anderson smirked. "It fits, though."
'Well, I guess I've been 'acting'....' Yeaia thought, thinking about the 'acting method' that they partially remembered from their fragmented memories.
Yeaia sighed.
And then, just like that, Gehrman Sparrow and Anderson Hood turned and walked down the gangplank, disappearing into the flow of the city beyond.
Yeaia watched them go, standing at the edge of the ship, their fingers curling slightly against their palm.
It would be easy to follow. To continue walking in their footsteps, letting their path become Yeaia's own.
But that wasn't why they were here.
They were done drifting.
They exhaled, stepping away from the railing.
A different path.
Their own.
And the journey was only...beginning.