Keep

Nobody wants charity.
That holds as true for you as it does for the poor.
Unless they're running a scam or giving up—and you don't want to deal with those.
So nobody wants charity.
But you have help to give, Pearl. Because you're a Houzuki.
And despite what your parents say, even the poor are worthy.
But they don't want your charity.
So give them a way to deserve it.

"I really don't need much, Pearl," Marina mumbles, her eyes on her hands.

Pearl scowls and pays for a second outfit. "We're in a band together, Rina," Pearl says, accepting the bag. "We need to look right. Playing music on the street's fine," she lies, "but people seeing you look so shoddy will hurt our brand."

"This is more than enough, though." She pulls her broken goggles down to hide her face, and one hand plays with her shortest tentacle. Marina's done that a couple times before, when they were practicing in the park, getting to know each other and experimenting with maybe writing songs. It's clear as a shout that Marina's uncomfortable, overwhelmed, needs to take a break.

Pearl doesn't push. "Fine. Where do you live? I can give you a ride."

Marina's tentacles twist—did that question make her uncomfortable, too? "You don't need to-"

"Come on, where do you live?" Pearl is done with this. "I've gotta see your place. We can jam there. Don't need a mic or recording equipment to have fun and get better."

Marina's lips are pinched, and she's still fiddling with that tentacle, but she lowers her head and mumbles the name of a bridge. There's a small apartment complex on the other side of it; one of Pearl's last band-dicks lived there. "I don't need a ride, though," Marina says. "It's only a short walk."

"I'll come with you, then," Pearl says, tapping out a quick text to her driver. Marina's been just this side of embarrassed since Pearl found her playing on the street for tips; she won't let her get away. If Pearl lets Marina out of her sight, Marina may decide against being in a band together. She could disappear into the city, and Pearl would never find her.

Only, when they reach the bridge, Marina doesn't lead her across, but under it. The bridge itself makes a roof, of sorts, and there's almost a cave worn away in the dirt and stones around it where a pile of rags and a couple bits of trash lay. Marina looks at it, looks at Pearl, and can't meet Pearl's eyes.

Pearl takes a deep breath, because she can't afford to insult Marina now, and pulls out her phone, texts her driver to meet them at the bridge, then uses it as a small lamp in the twilight. "This is... pretty good," she says at last.

"The rent's what I can afford," Marina says, not looking up, "and it's not much worse than home. Less crowded."

Holy Shit. No wonder she's been shivering in just her splatfest t-shirts and wearing those stupid underthings like they're an actual outfit. It crashes down on Pearl like snow off a tree branch: Marina came here with nothing. She just stands there, a shopping bag over one arm, shivering even with Pearl's scarf and giant headphones to add some extra warmth.

Pearl has everything, and she'll be damned if she's gonna let a good musician like Marina get away.

"Well, I'm not letting you store your new clothes on the ground, that's ridiculous." Marina looks at her, eyes big behind broken goggles. "Come on, Rina, you can store your stuff at my place. It's kinda huge, but don't worry about it." The sound of a car parking above them has Pearl holding out her hand for Marina to take. "It's my parents. They're never around."

Marina glances between Pearl and that hand once, twice, a third time before resting her own hand in Pearl's.

Pearl doesn't wait, grabbing it and hauling Marina behind her. The taller girl stumbles, but Pearl doesn't let up. If she lets Marina have a chance to think, she may never get in the car.

By the time they arrive, Marina's relaxed enough to push her goggles back up, but when she sees Pearl's house, her jaw drops. Her tentacles tangle together. "Pearl-"

"I know, it's ridiculous. Come on." Pearl grabs Marina's hand again and pulls, tugging her out of the car; Marina trips over her own feet, her head twisting like a doll's as she tries to see everything at once. Pearl tugs Marina behind her, up the grand staircase (Marina almost trips over half the steps) and turns down the hall where Pearl's room is... and a bunch of rooms for visiting relatives. "I'm starving," she lies, because she took Marina to get food earlier and is positive Marina lied when she said she was full, "Look, I've got this unused room over here, so I'll hang up your stuff in it for safe-keeping and you go clean up in that attached bathroom." She chooses the smallest one, because Marina's overwhelmed enough, and pushes the door open, pulls Marina inside.

Marina won't stop staring. Pearl keeps tugging her along. "You clean up in the attached bathroom," she says again, opening the door to it and flicking on the light. "Put on some of your new stuff. By the time you're done, there'll be grilled cheese. I make fresh grilled cheese."

She doesn't, not really, but she abandons Marina there anyway. Goes down to the kitchen and makes five sandwiches, because she can eat one and she doesn't want Marina to feel bad about eating everything, and when she gets back up to the room Marina is standing outside it. She still has her goggles on, and the headphones Pearl gave her, but now she's wearing capris and a sweatshirt, and her face and tentacles are cleaner than Pearl's ever seen. She lets Pearl tow her two rooms down the hall, to Pearl's room with its unmade bed and clothes on the floor and drum set in the corner and tiny grand piano, and she's so busy looking around that she doesn't seem to realize she's eating until she's midway through her third sandwich.

Pearl can tell Marina's recovered because her face turns ashen. "Thank you, Pearl, but I should go," Marina says, and oh hell no. "I've caused you too much trouble already-"

"Bullshit," Pearl snaps. She's not letting Marina go—she'll never see her again. She can't lose another bandmate, not when they're finally getting somewhere. "You're not making me do anything I don't wanna, Rina."

Marina ducks her head and yawns. "But—you don't even know me, really, or—or anything about me," she mutters. She sets down her uneaten sandwich. "I should just go. It'll be better. Safer."

"Bullshit," Pearl says again, as Marina tries—and fails—to smother another yawn. Marina's right, they don't know anything about each other except they both like music and hiking Mount Nantai, but Pearl's put together enough to know whatever cult Marina came from sunk their claws in deep and she knows fuckall about inkling culture or, well, anything. But Pearl wouldn't like it if someone tried to protect her that way, so instead Pearl points out the window, where one or two stars peak through the clouds. "Do you see how dark it is outside? It's not safe to leave right now, Rina. Guess you're spending the night."

"But-"

"You can sleep in the room with your clothes," Pearl continues, talking over her. "My bedroom's right down the hall, it'll be fine. The sheets and crud are clean. Are you done eating? Cause if you are, you should check out the room now, lemme know if you need anything."

Marina pulls down her goggles and can't meet Pearl's eyes. But Pearl bullies her into finishing the sandwich, and then all but shoves her into the spare room, pointing out where they've got spare pajamas for visitors. They're not really spare, this room is supposed to be Aunt Illex's but Illex would approve.

And when she peeks in ten minutes later, to ask Marina if she wants to jam a bit before bed, finds Marina already asleep, fully clothed, sprawled out on top of the giant bed.

"Good night and sweet dreams, Rina," she whispers, flicking off the light, and closes the door and slumps against it.

That didn't go terribly.

She still has a bandmate.

She still has a chance.