And the stones tell me so much. But if I get some things wrong, then please forgive me. This place is too enchanted to let the story go untold.

-from The Enchanted by Rene Denfield.

Creation is no small feat,
listen I am
a person
or the memory of one.
I know this.
I am telling you a story.

- Saille, from Savage Her Reply by Deidre Sullivan

Yuu was in a predicament of the type she did not usually find herself in.

It wasn't the first time she had written a short story. Indeed, it had been short stories rather than full-length novels that she'd managed to get her career started on. This time, she was writing a short story for a summer-themed collection due to be published next year, and her agent had requested three stories from her. One would be chosen for the collection, and the other two banked for another occasion. She had the three stories done now, and she had a good couple of weeks to spare. This was a good thing, Though of course her editor would come back with adjustments to make, especially with whichever story was chosen for the collection, she felt they were good enough for this first stage.

This was all fine, and in some cases surprising. She loved writing and loved being able to make a career out of it, especially when she hadn't even thought she'd have any type of career at all. But that didn't mean it was always easy to produce good work. Having written these stories so easily was a miracle. But it had been so easy that it had ended up being a problem.

To be more specific, it was the third story-the one that she had titled A New Life Under The Myrtle Tree-that was causing her the problem.

Sighing, she peered through the half-open office door into the shop floor. She could see Sasi doing whatever it was she did to close up shop for the day. She moved with calm purpose, as she always did, as if she'd owned this shop for years rather than having only recently taken it over from the previous owner. The fact that Yuu was there at all was also a good sign-as a rule, the worse Sasi was faring the more closed-off she became. Certainly, if she was at a particularly low point she would not have told Yuu she could come and stay at her place, making use of her office as a 'writing retreat'. Over the years since Kawaakari, it was as if she'd had to get to know all her friends again, since the freedom of being accepted had unlocked all sorts of new sides to them and of all of them, Sasi had been the most unknowable. Still, for the most part, she felt that she'd gradually worked out the subtle changes that indicated her moods, and all of these should have pointed to her being fine. Except, of course, for one glaring detail.

The fact that Sasi was wearing her cloak.

The cloak looked almost as new as the day she had received it, though Yuu knew that if she got close enough she would spot some bloodstains that hadn't washed out fully. Barely noticeable, given the dark colour of it, but still there. Though during the day Sasi had pinned it back in various ways so it wouldn't disrupt her daily tasks, especially when she'd been in the workshop. But now it flowed behind her unrestrainedly. As always, the cloak made her look striking and if anything it suited her better now as an adult than it had when she'd first been given it. That did not change the fact that it was a sign that she was feeling fragile, and that she was just a few steps away from needing to shut up shop and visit the caves. Indeed, Yuu had a feeling she would have done so already if not for the fact she had returned from doing just that only a couple of weeks ago.

So how is she going to react to a story that's basically about her and him? Yuu wondered. She wasn't entirely sure that Sasi would have liked such a thing in the first place, so intensely private she was, but it was not something she knew. She wasn't in the habit of lifting entire stories from her friends' lives, just snippets and little details here and there. She wasn't even sure what had possessed her to write this first story the way she had, but the more she looked between the words on the screen and then through the door, she wondered if maybe if it would be a good thing instead. After all, the story wasn't exactly the same. It was happier, the type of happy that Sasi should have had. The type that Yuu imagined she could have had if things had not unfurled the way they had. Surely, she thought, that should make this a story worth telling?

Yuu sighed and rubbed her head, then called out:

"Hey, can I use your printer?"

"Go ahead."

By the time the pages had printed out and she'd stapled them together, the shop was closed. Yuu came out of the office to see Sasi pulling down the door blinds.

"Are you ready to head back?" Sasi asked idly.

"Sure I guess. But first…I want you to read one of the stories."

Sasi turned around, and her eyebrows twitched very slightly.

"Why?"

This was a fair question. Sasi may have bought all of Yuu's books thus far, but when Yuu had spotted them on the shelf above the desk she'd spent the last week working at, she could tell that they had not been read. Some were still wrapped in clear plastic. One of the new things that Yuu had discovered about Sasi in particular was that she was not that much of a reader at all, with perhaps the exception of anything relating to making weaponry, with a little bit of history.

Right…is this actually going to work out?

"Actually, I need you to read it."

"Need?"

Sasi walked over and plucked the pages out from her hand and headed to the office. Yuu followed, remaining in the doorway as Sasi went to her desk, pushing aside the keyboard so she had space for the papers.

"Which one?"

"'A New Life Under the Myrtle Tree'-it's the last one."

Sasi nodded absently, then stopped abruptly. She glanced up at Yuu and frowned.

"Just read it?" she asked a little weakly.

Sasi pursed her lips and then returned her attention to the pages, flicking through until she found the title, and then started reading. The moments stretched on ever-slowly, when abruptly Sasi gathered the pages and threw them across the office. The pages fluttered out, falling almost everywhere. Yuu yelped, but almost immediately as soon as the pages fell to the ground, the fierce glare on her face flattened out. Wide-eyed, mouth slightly open, she blinked a couple of times before she then rose from her chair and unsteadily sunk to her knees, half-crawling and half-dragging herself to where the pages were before beginning to gather them back together.

When they were in a pile that was vaguely neat, Sasi sat on the floor, back against the wall and turned them back over to the beginning of the third story. She looked down at them, resting her hand against the typed words. Yuu didn't dare move, let alone breathe and so she remained there, feeling like more than a bit of a lemon.

"I used to wish for this, in the first few weeks." Sasi said suddenly.

"You…did?"

Yuu tried to glean some understanding from the way she stared at the pages in her lap, almost looking right through them. Her hands tap-tap-tapped against the paper, and Yuu wondered what part of the story she'd gotten to. Luckily, Sasi's next words provided the answer:

"I used to wish that I was pregnant, you know. I wanted some part of him to carry with me. I got left with so little, you know. I wished for it so much."

Her other hand came up to touch the clasps of the cloak as she laughed bitterly.

"What a stupid, stupid thing to wish."

"I don't…I mean..." Yuu stretched out the words. "You were grieving. That's not stupid."

"Yes, it was."

"You weren't…?"

Sasi didn't look at her at all, but just for a moment a smirk played on her lips:

"Yes, we were. You know it."

Well, no I don't. It was not the time to point that out to Sasi, however. No doubt that the others would have pressed anyway, but Yuu was probably one of the few people in the world for whom leaning into a dramatic, gossipy side was positive character development. So she leant into that.

"In school? I knew you were thirsty teenagers but not that much! Where? And how'd you manage to not get caught?"

Yuu considered Sasi's raised eyebrow and slight smirk a win, despite the fact that she still looked down and that when she did eventually answer, the lightness in her voice was clearly forced:

"Don't worry, the cave isn't exactly something that gets easily stumbled across."

"Ah, the cave. Of course. Wait, wasn't that cold?"

Another smirk, another small win:

"That wasn't exactly a concern, you know. Not once we got there."

"Of course. The power of love, truly warming."

"Anyway, that wasn't the issue. The point was, what, exactly, would I have done with a child by myself?"

Yuu had been chuckling to herself but she sobered up quickly:

"We would have looked after you both, the way we did with Asuka when Akira was a baby. Ruby would have definitely taken you in, and I know that wouldn't be the ideal for you given you like being on your own so much but, whatever. You wouldn't have been alone and that's what matters. Besides, another kid to spoil? Bring it on, I'd have said."

Sasi pursed her lips at this, and Yuu suspected that she knew what she would say. Being a single parent at seventeen was worlds away from a single parent at twenty one. Ruby's influence in getting them independence from the Ward system a year early may not have worked out so well if she'd been expecting a child during that time. Still, Yuu believed wholeheartedly that it would have been alright, that if Sasi had ended up in such a situation that the child would have grown up as happy and loved as they were all making sure Akira was. So far, she thought they were doing a pretty good job of that-she didn't exactly know many other six-year-olds, but she thought Akira was pretty normal. And most importantly, he was clearly happy.

"We were children."

Yuu gawped, her train of thought screeching to a halt. Alright, clearly I didn't know then, did I? Sasi looked up, leaning her head back against the wall.

"We were children, Yuu. Both of us were children. Don't you ever look back at those days and what we were like and realise just how bloody young we all were?"

"Of course I did. But that applies to all of our childhoods really, doesn't it?"

"His, too. That's what I'm saying, Yuu. We were children, the pair of us. The things that we were to each other…"

Sasi's voice hitched and Yuu watched her swallow before the next words came out, whispery and strangled:

"We should not have been what we were, at all, we were far too young for that. Too young to have to need what we had. The best thing that I ever had and it's not something that should ever have happened. Do you know how that feels, Yuu?"

Sasi's voice broke on her name and she roughly wiped her eyes, but that did nothing to stem the sudden flow of tears. Sasi didn't start to wail or keen but the tears came as she continued to direct an almost sightless-gaze at the ceiling.

"What's wrong about sanctuary and solace? There's no age limit on that."

Sasi sat up and finally, finally looked at her but her eyes were flashing and Yuu held up her hands:

"We suffered in ways no child should suffer, and I know that he did too. I know that made us act in ways no child should have to act, to think in ways no child should. And perhaps your relationship was steamy in a way that'd fit in one of my books better than in adolescence-"

Yuu paused, but when she failed to get a glimmer of a smirk she moved on:

"But for the people that you both were, damaged and alone and vulnerable, you were both exactly right. In the end, we were all doing the best with what we had, and when we were given ways to do better-no, rather, when we were given hope we made the most of it, right? So the two of you, I think, there was nothing wrong with the way you two were. You can't actually think there was anything wrong, can you? He made you so happy and the way he believed in us-"

"No, there was nothing wrong with him."

The words came out petal-soft, wobbly. Sasi's again moved to touch the clasp of her cloak before then wrapping the material of it tight around her.

"There was nothing, but…"

"I know I've got a somewhat…rosier outlook on these things that's more idealistic than anything, but given the chance you two would have built something good anyway."

"We believed it, anyway."

"Did you ever talk about it? The future?"

Sasi nodded very slightly.

"There you go, see!" Yuu exclaimed. "There you go."

"I…"

Sasi swallowed:

"What's this, then? Why…why have you written a story about me?"

"Well, obviously, you're such an inspiring influence." Yuu grinned briefly before continuing. "But honestly, the story just flowed and now I'm thinking…you know what the most important part of these stories are?"

"Melodrama?"

"No! Well, yes, but actually the most important part is the happy ending. No matter what obstacles there are, one way or another, there's a happy ending for everyone. Except the villains, if there are any, but happy endings for all. Sometimes a happy ending is all that's needed, but sometimes a fictional happy ending is all that can be done. But it's…it's got to be better than feeling wrong, doesn't it? I can't bring him back, I can't change our childhoods. But I can tell stories with happy endings. And that's exactly what I ended up doing. "

When Sasi just kept looking at her, Yuu sighed and rubbed her face.

"Just, keep reading, alright? Give one of my stories a chance for once, at least."

Sasi rolled her eyes, but silently obliged. Moments went by, punctuated only by the sounds of birds cheeping somewhere outside and the pages turning. Sasi bent over the pages, almost folded in half, as if gathering the words close to her. She had undone her hair after returning from the workshop and now it hid her face completely and it was for that reason it took Yuu a moment to realise that Sasi was crying. It took her another moment to really be able to understand what she was seeing, but when the papers tumbled to the floor once again and a loud keening rose in the air Yuu rushed across and knelt, awkwardly embracing Sasi as best as she could.

Gradually the awful, strangled sound died down and Sasi pulled away. Yuu let go and studied her friend carefully, once again finding herself thinking: what a mystery you are.

"The caravan…." She said eventually. "The caravan was a good idea."

Yuu preened momentarily.

"What about the rest?"

"It's…I could picture it. Same as one of the futures we talked about. It's funny, though, that you called him Silas in this."

"It is?"

"Mhm. The family name he was going to give himself once he came of age was 'Silvanus'."

"Okay, that was a coincidence, I promise. I just knew he liked trees so I went from that."

Sasi smiled gently, and then looked down at the sheets.

"Why 'Fiadh' for me?"

"It means 'wild'." Yuu explained. "You have to admit, that could fit for any of us."

"But still, I'm the only one with a story that you'd write, aren't I?"

Yuu just nodded at this. Sasi sighed, tucking locks of hair behind her ear before suddenly saying:

"Please don't use this."

Yuu, startled, started to ask why but then stopped. Again really looked at her friend, trying to glean some understanding. And though she still was not entirely sure what could be running through her mind she realised that she couldn't deny her this.

"Alright then, I won't. Keep it, though. Even if it's just a story then at least you have a little more of him to keep with you."

Sasi nodded, separating out the printed pages and handing back the pages of the other two stories back to Yuu, who started to get up before realising that Sasi had made no such move, instead appearing engrossed with the final page.

"You never mention a name for the baby, here."

"I didn't give her one. Why don't you?"

"Me?" Sasi's eyes flicked up, startled. "I don't know a thing about naming a person."

"Luckily for me, I do. So, let's start off with baby's family name. Which of yours do you think you would have given? Or maybe you would made an eponymic? Let's think…"

After some back and forth, they both concluded that neither his given name nor hers made for particularly smooth sounding eponymics, and eventually they ended up combining their chosen family names to the admittedly long Amanosilvanus. Of the sky, and of the forest. It summed them up both perfectly-that much, Yuu knew with absolute confidence.

"I have to admit, it has a certain…gravitas to it." Yuu concluded, pleased. "However, my personal recommendation is a short first name to balance that out. What sort of names do you like?"

"I don't know."

But Sasi considered this for a moment, before saying:

"Something in nature, sort of like the family names we gave ourselves. But also maybe something that means something…I don't know how to turn it into a single definition or word, but what we were just talking about?"

"What do you mean?" Yuu asked.

"Sort of, like…" Sasi sighed. "Things being good and happy, that despite everything we would have made the good and happy out of it? I mean, I'm trying all by myself now to make good out of the crap, sort of like how a pearl is made, aren't I-"

"That's it!"

Sasi's goggle-eyed look was amusing, but Yuu held back the laughter and persisted:

"Pearl. That's the name."

"Pearl." Sasi sounded as if she was rolling the name around in her mouth. "Pearl Amanosilvanus. Pearl."

"Do you like it?"

Sasi just nodded, and then wiped at her eyes when tears started to form again.

"Funny, how I'm feeling over someone who's literally only dreams and words on a page but…Pearl's perfect. And if she had been a person, she would have been, wouldn't she?"

"Oh, definitely."

Sasi smiled at this, pressing the papers to her chest briefly before she got up.

"Thanks, Yuu."

"No problem."

She also got up, and once they'd got their bags they left the shop and began to make the short walk back to Sasi's cottage. They walked in comfortable silence under the sunset, but just as they reached the front door Yuu stopped dead:

"Oh no."

"What?" Sasi turned to her, key in the lock and confusion on her face. "What is it?"

"I'm going to have to write another story now!"

Sasi stared at her for a long moment, again unreadable. But then, she laughed, and laughed, and laughed and just like that, this new predicament stopped mattering. After all, the story had been told, and that was the most important thing.