She met him for the first time when she was six, out on a boat in the ocean.
"You have fluffy hair," she said, "and shiny eyes."
"I know," he replied, puffing up with pride. "Bright as fire coral, my ma always says."
"I would say garnets, but they're so dark, and your eyes are bright; and I don't want to say 'ruby eyes' because it sounds like something from one of my mommy's grown-up books." Ochako scrunched her face. "I don't like those books."
The boy scoffs. "How would you know what rubies look like? They're very rare."
"Oh that's easy! Mommy and Daddy teach me when I cry, so I know about lots of gemstones! We even wear them!" She dug underneath the neck her tunic and pulled off the amulet she always wore. It was a pretty, shiny thing, with a long and wide ribbon, meant to be worn by someone much older than she was now, but she would grow into it. Her family crest was in the center, surrounded by jewels and gems of all sorts. She pointed to one of the stones laid near the top. "That one's the ruby, and here's a garnet."
The boy tilted his head. "Looks fancy. Usually I only find something like that at the bottom of the sea."
Ochako tilted her head. "Really? At the bottom?" The boy nodded, puffing his chest out even more, a very self-satisfied smile on his face. "How do you hold your breath that long?"
"What? I don't. I just breathe, like everyone else I know."
"I don't breathe underwater."
"'Course not. You're human."
Crossing her arms, Ochako pouted. "And what are you that makes you so special?"
The boy grinned, his face splitting wide open, and he slipped under the water. Ochako worried for a second, but then he jumped into the air, startling the life out of her and the amulet out of her hand. He was too fast for whatever he tried to show off, too. She only caught a glimpse of red before he fell beneath the water again.
He came up, eyes sparkling. "Did you see?" he asked excitedly. "Pretty, huh?"
"No I did not!" Ochako yelled, palm to her chest, eyes scanning the water. "You made me drop the my necklace!"
"Oh, I can find it!" the boy said, and he disappeared beneath the waves again.
Ochako wanted to stay, to collect her lost heirloom, and she stayed for as long as she could. Which turned out to be not a very long time at all, since her nanny found her mere moments later and dragged her back to her home.
No one ever believed Ochako about the boy. They said no one could get in without the guards knowing. They had such a private beach, her parents said, and the gate that cut through the water stopped even small children from swimming through. That didn't stop her from returning every day for the next two months, trying to find proof of his existence.
Proof she never found, except for her missing amulet.
The more she reflected on it, though, the more she herself began to doubt it. She always set thoughts of the boy to the back of her mind when it frustrated her, and instead focused on her studies. It wasn't long before he was a mere wisp of a memory, a dream she decided she had confused for reality, and her amulet lost due to her own clumsiness.
She worked hard from that day forward, ready to follow in her parents' footsteps.
Ochako runs, her feet bare and bleeding. Her eyes sting, her entire face stings in the cold. Her breath whips by her in white clouds. Her only comfort in the winter night is the coat she wears, though it does little to keep her warm. It still comforts her, though, and she'll treasure it for the rest of her life.
The coat belonged to her father, after all, and it was the only thing she recovered that wasn't soaked in his blood.
The memories rise up again, bringing with them bile that she swallows back down. She has no time to spit it up, no time to stop and rest, no time to even think beyond escape. Hooves thunder along the path behind her, and she has to reach the beach soon—all other exits are guarded, and there are boats out there, boats that can carry her to safety and away from…
From home. She almost turns back, almost faces her pursuers, but the glint of steel in the dark of night unnerves her, scares her to her core, so she keeps running.
Her feet barely meet the sand when she reaches the beach, but then they catch up to her. The horses surround her, masked riders staring down from their steeds. The ringleader moves forward, hopping from his horse to approach her on even ground. He stands between her and the water, and her eyes glance behind him longingly.
"Come now, Princess," the man says in a voice sweet as honey. He removes his mask, and she sucks in a startled breath when she sees his face. It was one she last saw years ago, after all–the face of a dead man.
Standing before her, holding an enemy nation's mask, with freshly healed scars cutting across his cheeks, her uncle stares her down. General Shin of the Hysa kingdom's army, thought to have fallen in battle two years ago, stands before her. His face is stretched into a mockery of its former charming smile, and he extends a hand to her, his voice soothing.
"There is much to discuss," he says, "and I know you must be tired. But it can wait for the morning. Surely you want to return to your bed and sleep?"
She's tired, of course. Who wouldn't be after the death (murder, she corrects herself) of their parents and a run for their life? All she wants to do is cry, to mourn, to curl into a ball and disappear to where her parents are now. The pull is so strong, so incredibly powerful she begins to do so–her arms fold around herself, clawing at her own shoulders to keep herself together, and her knees tremble under the weight of her and her grief. Her eyes well with tears, and she lets one fall–a diamond droplet that lands among the sand at her feet.
But then she hears it–a soft song that shakes her hunched form. It's hauntingly beautiful, a melody that wraps around her mind, a lullaby that soothes her aching heart, and under its guidance she stands tall and glares.
Shin frowns, unaffected by the phantom voice that gives her strength. And of course he wouldn't hear it; it's a Gift–the very last her parents will ever give her. Only Ochako can hear it.
"Fine." Shin pulls a knife from his hip and throws it to the ground in front of her. "I'm an honorable man. I'll let you fight, and if you survive, you're free to go." His voice lightens.
"Let it be known that I'm giving you a chance, Princess. I will give you what freedom I can if you come willingly. But should you choose to fight and lose, you will be nothing more than a prisoner." His eyes are bright enough to burn straight through her, now. He extends his hand. "The choice is yours. Come with me, and live as lavishly as before, or…" he nods toward the knife, "take the blade, Princess, and prove whether your will is strong enough."
She knows better, though. The freedom Shin offered wouldn't really be free. It would come with feather-light chains and invisible fences. She would be no better than a flower in a greenhouse, some… thing to be marveled at out of place, out of season.
Ochako kneels, her eyes never leaving his. Her fingers grasp the cool leather of the grip. She takes a deep breath, and with a hand clutched to her chest, she stands again.
Shin drops his hand when he drops his smile, and a sneer tugs at his lips. "You won't budge, then?" he asks her, and hiding amongst his words lies a promise of pain.
Still, she only glares, drawing her lip into a tight line.
Shin waves his hand, some military signal she doesn't know. The men on horseback ride in circles around her, and she hears the sound of blades being pulled from scabbards. Shin mounts his horse again and steps back, calling orders to his guards.
They want her alive, that much is clear.
She refuses to let that happen.
But that means her only other option is death. The entire ocean is before her, the sounds of waves a constant background noise. Drowning is a scary, painful way to go, she knows. It would be so hard to stay down until her breath ran out, and even then Shin could just send his men after her. But she knows they won't follow.
It's damn near the dead of winter. The water is cold enough to kill.
She steels herself, her mind made up. The knife weighs heavy in her hand, and as the horses circle her, she sees a path amidst the cackling men and the dancing blades. She sucks in one last breath, and then she runs, her teeth bared and fists tight.
The snow and the sand make for poor footing, and she slips more than once. But she doesn't fall, doesn't allow herself to fall.
When she reaches the line of men, she hits the ground and slides. She lashes out with the knife, slashing at the ankles of the horses, and rolls back on her feet before they can fall. It hurts her, of course, when she hears the snap of broken bones, to have harmed the horses in such a cruel way, sure they'd be killed later because of her. It was never their fault, they weren't in control of their actions, but she had no other choice.
She can only offer a silent apology as she runs. She's sure to beat them to the afterlife, after all.
Her breath whips past her once again, sliding from rosy lips and over winter-red cheeks. Her feet sting in the way that comes with cold, where nerves are more sensitive and tingles run along her legs.
Her uncle shouts orders to his men, but she ignores it. She focuses on the world before her, the chaos behind her mere background noise for the last few moments of her life. The sand beneath her changes abruptly to the wooden planks of the boat dock, and she can't tell if it's her weight making the boards creak or if she's hearing bowstrings being drawn.
It's an all-out sprint to the finish, to reach the water before they can reach her. Her legs and her lungs burn, and fire blooms across her back, but adrenaline tells her to ignore the pain, to run for her life, no matter how soon it may end.
Before she realizes it, she's airborne, her nightgown billowing in the wind, her father's jacket flaring like a cape behind her. Her eyes widen as the water rushes towards her, and she takes an involuntary breath to hold, as though her body has hopes of survival separate from her mind.
It was a futile hope, of course. The thin ice cracks beneath her heels, and the cold water engulfs her, shocking the air from her lungs in a woosh of bubbles. It's through some miracle that she even has the tiniest bit left at the very bottom of her lungs.
She floats for a moment, suspended by cold numbness. Then like magic, her clothes absorb water and sink, dragging her into the darkness below. She shuts her eyes, hoping to pass out before she feels any more pain.