Here we go with a punctual chapter, unlike last week. I hope you enjoy!

Luka was discharged the following morning. As she was being wheeled through the hospital lobby, she found Miku impatiently waiting in the waiting area.

"There you are!" she said. Luka flinched at the impatient, demanding tone.

Luka raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You were waiting for me?"

"Duh. We're flying home together, aren't we?" she asked, and her tone was her old one, from before the crash. Demanding, harsh, unforgiving.

"I don't mind waiting for a ticket for a commercial jet. I—"

"Nonsense. Follow me. The car is outside."

Taken aback at the imperious command, Luka hesitated, hesitated for a moment before getting up from the wheelchair. With a quick word of thanks to the person who'd brought her downstairs, she followed Miku through the front door and into a black limousine that indeed waited in front of the building.

Miku had settled in by the time Luka arrived. The older woman looked around, wondering which one of the half-dozen empty seats to choose.

"You can sit here, with me," Miku said in that same infuriating tone. She patted the chair next to her.

Mute, Luka obeyed, pulling the door shut behind her before taking a seat at her side. She put on her seat belt and fortunately, Miku did the same.

"So, how have you been?" she tentatively asked the younger woman. The limousine pulled away from the hospital, rolling noiselessly down the road toward the main highway.

"Oh, just fine. All in all, it's been a relief," Miku said, and this time, her voice was totally different. More even, more composed, more reasonable. "And you?"

Luka was stunned. "What the hell was that just now?"

Miku waved a hand dismissively. "I have a reputation to maintain. Don't take it personally."

"You really do intentionally act like that?"

Miku shrugged. "I don't see it as a big deal."

Luka decided it wasn't worth arguing with her. "Well, to answer your question, I've been great," she said. "Got some decent sleep."

"No nightmares?"

"Some," she admitted. "I don't think I'll ever be quite rid of them."

Miku frowned. "That's awful."

"But hey, I got to shower this morning!"

"Oh yes, that was divine," Miku drawled, sitting back in her chair. "Finally got to maintain some decent hygiene."

"And your hair looks great."

"That took forever. Thank you."

Luka smiled somewhat. "So, what happened to our faces getting old?"

"Oh, you know. Maybe I've seen a little too much of you as of late, but you're a welcome sight, too. Plus, like this I don't have to put up with the seven-hour flight all on my own."

"Ah, of course."

"It's not to say I appreciate your company," Miku said, slowly, placing emphasis on 'appreciate'. "But we get along. I can be honest with you. I did also wonder how you've been doing."

Luka rolled her eyes with a grin. "Well, I've been fine."

"Did you not want to fly with me?"

"I didn't want to impose. I know what you mean when you say that we get along, but not more than that. I didn't want to overstay my welcome."

"And fly commercial?"

"I don't mind. Business class can be really nice on those."

"Pfft. I won't have it. My rescuer deserves the best."

Luka rolled her eyes. "I appreciate it."

"This is a one-off thing, though. At least until you're back to flying for me."

"If I'm allowed to, that is," Luka said. "For two months you'll likely have a replacement pilot, the time it'll take for my arm to heal."

"Ah, they set it?"

"On the boat already, yes."

Miku nodded. "Was it awful?"

"Exactly as you predicted."

Miku smiled softly; there was uncharacteristic sympathy there. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. The big thing I'm worried about, though, is the psychological evaluation."

Her smile fell. "An evaluation? A test?"

"Yes. It's a test to see if I'm still fit to fly," she said, leg bouncing a little.

"How can you not be fit to fly?"

"Trauma. Pilots need to be able to keep their cool in any situation. It's the only reason I managed to read the handbook and save our lives. If the next storm I fly into sends me into a state, then I'm only a liability. I won't be allowed to fly."

"But you did fantastic. The storm didn't—"

"Someone died. I was there, where Gakupo died. I'm not even sure how I'll handle being in a cockpit again," Luka admitted. "It's the scene for all my nightmares. Seeing Gakupo die again and again in a cockpit, surrounded by a storm? I'm not entirely well, Miku. I'm traumatized."

Miku took in her words for a moment. "I thought you said you were doing fine."

"I am. Now, at this moment, I'm fine. Relatively speaking. But at night, when I get too deep in my thoughts... I just need some therapy, really."

Miku pulled out her phone. "We'll arrange that for you."

"'We'? You and—"

"My father. You'll get the best help money can buy."

"You don't have to—"

"Nonsense."

Luka watched her type for a moment, then turned her attention to the window. She saw the city roll by. It was a different city, a different continent, a different hemisphere, and yet it was another city she was being driven through, on the way to the airport, just like a week prior. She sighed.

"There. You'll get a call," Miku said.

"Thank you." Luka cleared her throat. "Did... Did you talk to the news?"

"Oh yes, extensively. I already have five interviews booked for this week. I just had one this morning, in fact. The moment I was discharged, I had my own little fifteen minutes of fame on live TV."

"But why?"

"Why not? I get to see my face on TV, what's better than that?" Miku said with a wide grin. "Plus, I need to get myself a new boyfriend soon, so I better be putting myself out there."

"I... I guess."

"You don't want to talk to the press?"

"It's such a hassle. And I wouldn't know what to say."

"You don't want to admit that you slapped me?" she asked, her voice just a whisper.

Luka's eyes widened. "Did you—"

"No, not at all. I said only nice things about you, don't worry. I did mention some friction, but nothing that isn't normal for two strangers getting to know each other in an emergency situation. Just enough to tantalize them, you know?"

Luka's eyes widened. She pressed her lips together for a moment, her heart in her throat. "What about when you and I..."

"Hm?"

"Never mind."

"The press can be your friends, if you know how to use them," Miku said, pulling out a pocket mirror. She looked at herself for a moment before continuing, saying, "They're a tool. A tool to be seen, to be recognized, to be invited to bigger parties with better people."

"You do lots of things to get to those parties."

"It's my life right now."

"You ever consider, uhm, returning to school?"

"Not in a million years. If I have to sit in a classroom again then I think I'll die." Miku looked at her. "What are you bringing home?"

Luka considered Miku for a moment. Her clothes were not only brand new, but clearly expensive: a pair of black designer pumps, a long flowing skirt, and a matching t-shirt. All red and black, eye-catching—perfect for TV, really. She also had a clutch from which she'd pulled the mirror, and who knows what could be hiding in the trunk of the car. Meanwhile, all Luka had to her name was a donated shirt and pair of pants, along with a small backpack with toothbrush, toothpaste, a hair brush, and dry deodorant. She also had the corpse of her old phone, her notebook, and her wristwatch, all that remained what she'd owned before the crash. The contrast between them couldn't have been more striking.

"Not much," she said with a shrug. "I don't even have a working phone."

"Ah, yes. Do you need a new one? I can—"

"It's okay, I promise. I still have my old sim card, it should work. If not, I'll ask my service provider for a replacement. It might take a few days, but I have a landline back home, so I'm not totally cut off from the world."

"How are you going to tell your parents that you're on your way home?"

Luka shrugged. "I was just going to go home and call them from there."

"Tch. The things you put up with. Here, use mine."

Miku pulled a phone from the clutch and handed it to her companion.

"Wh—"

"Call them. Say we'll be there in roughly eight hours, maybe a bit before. Depends on whether the new pilot and co-pilot are half as good at their job as you are."

After considering the phone for a moment, Luka said, "Thank you."

"No worries."

Luka dialed her parents' number, and when they picked up, all groggy from sleep because it was roughly four in the morning there, quickly explained that she was using Miku's phone and that she would be home in roughly eight hours. There was elation and pure joy, which Luka couldn't help but shed a few tears at. They exchanged a few words, mostly about what the press had been saying. Sadly, they were soon pulling up to the airport, so Luka ended the call and returned the phone to its owner.

"They love you very much," Miku observed.

"Yeah. They've always been there for me. Supported me through everything."

"Hm. Sounds nice."

Luka's smile faded, but she didn't do anything, merely clenching and unclenching her fist, her leg bouncing slightly. There wasn't time to say anything; the limousine pulled up at the drop-off point, and together both women went through security, then through the winding halls all the way to the hangar, where another Bombardier Global 6000 waited for them.

Luka let out a shuddering breath at the sight of the aircraft. It was pristine, all clean and perfectly maintained. It was also a carbon copy of the device that had sent her to the ocean.

She shook her head and approached the open side of the plane, going up the stairs a few steps behind Miku, who was carrying yet another massive piece of luggage. Luka watched, too surprised to offer to carry it up herself, as she'd done so many times. Given her bad arm, though, she decided to keep silent.

Once in the plane, Luka took in the interior. It was slightly different, probably the default interior of the plane, but equally cozy, roomy, and luxurious. She almost headed for the cockpit out of pure habit, but turned towards the cabin instead. Miku was already in her favorite seat, or the nearest equivalent, looking at herself in her pocket mirror.

"I've never been a passenger aboard such a plane," Luka muttered softly as she walked towards Miku. "Where do you recommend sitting?"

"Right here, in front of me," Miku said, pointing. "Unless you mind going backwards."

"I've never done that before. I'll give it a try."

Miku smiled, adjusting her legs slightly so Luka could sit opposite her. There wasn't much, if anything, between them, except for a window, which showed the dreary hangar interior.

"Welcome aboard!" a new voice welcomed them. Luka turned in her seat to see a blonde woman, wearing a pilot's suit and hat, her long hair tied into a ponytail. She had dark blue eyes and a bright smile, all topped off by a welcoming aura.

"Are you our pilot?" Miku asked.

"That's me. Lily Masuda, at your service," she said with a slight bow of her head. "We're going back home, is that right?"

"As quickly as possible, please," the younger woman said, not even looking at the pilot.

"Will do." Lily then turned towards Luka and stretched out her hand. "Luka, right?"

"That's me."

"It's an honor to meet you. With some luck, I'll be your co-pilot, once you heal up."

Luka chuckled half-heartedly. "Are you sure you want that role? You know whose shoes you're filling?"

The bright smile dimmed somewhat, but stayed warm. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"But tragedies and accidents happen. I highly doubt it was your fault. This also makes you a survivor. There're few as experienced as you are. It would be an honor to fly by your side."

"If you say so." Luka took a breath. "We'll see if they let me fly, first."

"Of course. Either way, I'm here to make sure you both experience a safe, pleasant flight. So please, seatbelts on; we're ready to depart."

"Thank you. Good luck flying this thing."

Lily flashed her a bright smile before turning away, towards the cockpit.

"She has better customer service than you do," Miku said once the door was closed.

Luka scoffed. "Good. Then if I can't fly, at least I have an agreeable replacement."

Miku smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope you can fly."

"I hope so, too. I don't know what I'd do otherwise."

The plane set in motion, starting its exit from the hangar.

"You have no Plan B?" Miku asked.

"No, not really. My whole life was spent training to fly. I looked forward to it when I was young and put my whole heart and soul into it once I got old enough. It's... It's my entire life."

"You went to school for it."

"School. Training. Learning the language. Getting enough flight hours to qualify for specific areas of work. Practice, practice, practice. So much time spent flying. And I'd spend the rest of my life doing it. If I can."

Miku listened attentively, then turned her attention towards the window. Luka imitated her, studying the tarmac, the flat grass between the runways, and the other planes, one of which had just landed.

"I don't think I've ever felt such a pull towards anything," Miku suddenly admitted.

"Most people don't. I'm lucky. Or cursed, now. if I can't fly, I'll probably be miserable for the rest of my life."

"We'll find something for you to do," Miku suddenly declared.

"'We'? Your dad and you?"

"Yes. You provided great service and saved my life. Twice. Though most people don't know that part."

Luka grinned. "Don't want people to know about your dip in the ocean?"

"No. Nor do I want people to know that I'm so deeply in your debt. Even if you deny it," Miku said pointedly. "It looks bad."

"Fine, I guess I can see that."

"But we'll help you find something."

Luka smiled softly at Miku's determined tone. She relaxed in her chair, eyes on the younger woman who, for some reason, wouldn't meet her gaze. As sincerely as she could, she said, "That means a lot to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The rest of the flight was uneventful. Lily flew smoothly, so there were no interruptions in the conversation. They chatted about random little things, ranging from Luka's childhood aspirations to fly and her professional career thus far. Miku talked about the friends Luka had seen, about how she planned to break up with her boyfriend, and how her father had been particularly doting ever since her return.

They parted ways in the airport, Miku quickly stepping into a limousine and making Luka promise that she'd stay in touch. Luka then headed towards the arrival terminal to meet her family and friends.

The reunions were tearful. She wept openly in front of her loved ones, and the only one making any effort to remain stoic was her dad, but even he caved in and cried after a few minutes. On the drive home, Luka was subjected to an on-again, off-again interrogation; someone would ask a question, Luka would answer, another would ask something, and then someone else would interrupt, saying that they shouldn't smother her. But seconds later, it would start over. Luka bore it all with a smile, though. When she eventually arrived home, there was a celebration to kick-start the early afternoon, with all her favorite food and drinks, and all her favorite people. What more could she ask for?

While she ate, they told her of how they'd heard the news:; a call from some police force, telling them that her plane had gone down. Minutes later, it hit the news. It was everywhere. The search was launched immediately. The news stations interrogated them about Luka endlessly, about whether she'd do something like this intentionally; suicide-pilots weren't unheard of, after all. That lasted until they found the plane's black box, which told the whole story all the way until the crash. Mechanical failure, a sharp pull upwards at low altitude, and then engine flame-out.

Luka confirmed it all, but she couldn't bring herself to put it in her own words. Not quite yet.

Then there were the concerns over her long days aboard the raft. Luka soothed their worries; she had food, water, company. She was in relatively good health, with only her shoulder amiss. When they were found, of course, there were celebrations everywhere. More interrogations from the press, of which Luka had thankfully been spared. After her initial denial, they'd all focused their attention on the one that did talk: Miku.

Luka didn't talk about the young heiress much, keeping her sentences short and the implications shorter still. She remained polite, but didn't dwell on the girl much, preferring to focus on the here and the now. As the hours ticked by, some friends had to leave, and soon it was cleanup time. Luka did her part, Meiko helped out, and when everything was put away, they retired to the guest room, which had once been Luka's bedroom.

Luka almost collapsed on the bed, while Meiko got settled in the armchair.

"Okay. Down time. Truth time. How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. The doctor wasn't kidding; muscle atrophy happens fast. I feel as if I'd just done a workout."

Meiko smiled sympathetically. "Now. What kind of stuff were you holding back from us?"

"The heavy stuff. The hard stuff. You know. The things that are hard to talk about," she admitted with a sigh.

"You barely talked about your client, Miku. Which is interesting."

"Why?"

"Well, she had a lot to say about you."

Luka struggled to sit up with her good arm. "What?"

"I saw a few of her press interviews. She did one really early this morning."

"Can I see it?"

"Sure. One second."

Meiko focused on her phone for a minute, and Luka waited patiently, her leg bouncing.

"Here you go."

Meiko handed over her phone, and Luka looked, leg still bouncing.

The first thing she saw was Miku, standing in front of the hospital; she was wearing the same clothes she'd had on during the return flight: black and red, perfect for TV.

The interview started pretty much right away: Meiko had skipped past the introduction from the news anchor.

"Miku Hatsune, what was it like spending four days on a raft in the middle of the sea?"

Luka rolled her eyes at such a question, but listened carefully to Miku's response.

Miku smiled politely and said, with cheer in her voice, "Oh, it was dull. So dull. Nothing to do but wait for drinking water to evaporate and to look out for boats."

"Are you glad to be back home?"

"More than I can say."

Another interviewer asked, "What was it like spending time with your employee, Luka Megurine?"

"Oh, wonderful really. It was hard at times: you can spend too much time with a person. But she saved my life. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay her."

"She saved your life?"

Miku waved a dismissive hand. "I was stunned during the crash. How could you not be? It doesn't feel real. It only happens to other people, doesn't it? But she came in and got my life jacket on, inflated the raft, and got me on it. She almost died there herself. I'm forever in her debt."

"Was that the scariest part about this adventure?"

"No. Honestly, it was just being stuck in the open sea. Anything could be in the waters below. I could barely touch the surface."

Luka chuckled.

"Any favorite moments? Memorable moments?"

Miku shrugged. "Not really. It all blurs together. Every day is like the last one. Nothing stands out. Luka provided some entertainment, as company does, but there's only so much two strangers can agreeably talk about."

The interview was interrupted by an ad, but Luka handed the phone back to Meiko.

"She's being so fake," she said.

"Oh?"

"Lying through her teeth, acting like a civilized person. It's all an act."

"Ha, I figured," Meiko said. "She seemed kind of normal to be the Miku you were talking about."

"I mean sure, she sort of normalized during our trip, so to speak. But when she's not being watched by the press or anyone important, she's nothing like this. This? This is a persona."

"Weird. Wanna see the rest of it?"

Luka shook her head. "Nah. I've seen enough. I feel like I know her well enough to guess what she might reply to those asinine questions. 'What was it like being stuck on a raft' my ass. It's awful is what it is."

"Wanna lay it on me?"

Luka opened her mouth to reply, then said, pulling out her notebook, "I think it might be easier if I started with these."

"What are these?"

"My letters to you, while I was on that raft."

Meiko, who had just grabbed the notebook, was immediately brought to tears. "You wrote letters to me?"

"I did. You were the last other person I spoke to before, well..."

Meiko stood from her chair to hug Luka hard, barely minding her shoulder, clutching the notebook between them.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she whispered.

"I'm so happy to be home."

"I bet," she said with a sniff, wiping away a tear. "Okay, these letters..."

"They're a few pages in..." Luka flipped through the book, then pointed. "…starting there."

And Meiko read. She frowned, then grinned at the first few pages, then said, "You know, Miku's hair didn't look half bad on TV."

"I don't know how she does it. It was a matted mess after the crash."

"And now it's all silky and smooth. Must have a hell of a care routine."

"Or a talented hair stylist."

Meiko nodded and kept reading. Luka could barely remember what she wrote, and watched anxiously as her friend took in her honest words.

"Tsk, we were worried sick, you know," Meiko whispered at one point. "But what do you mean that you blew up? You and Miku fought? You told her you wanted her dead?"

Luka frowned as the memories returned. Slowly, she admitted, "I told her I wished that she'd been the one who drowned. Not Gakupo."

"Shit."

"I regret saying that every day," she mumbled. "She... She actually took that to heart."

"That's one way to mellow a person out."

"I suppose..." Luka shrugged. "You'll see how this story ends."

Meiko nodded and turned the page, only for her eyebrows to rise. "Oh."

"What?"

"You... You drew her."

Luka sat up, finding the sketch she'd drawn while Miku slept. There were those other sketches too, of course, but this one stuck out for obvious reasons. "Ah, yeah. Uhm. There weren't many subjects to draw."

Meiko stared at the drawing for a long time, before she kept reading for a little longer. Luka noticed that she read through one entry without comment, going straight for the next one. One of the longest ones, if not the longest, and Luka immediately spotted the few words that betrayed that it was the entry after Miku fell in the water.

"She fell in?!" Meiko gasped. "In the ocean?"

"Without a life jacket," Luka said. "She almost drowned in the freezing waters."

"Holy shit. You saved her twice."

"And you know the weirdest part? Didn't faze her one bit."

"What do you mean?"

"She wasn't afraid of the water at all. What she said about being scared of the big depths was word-for-word what I'd said. It scared the hell out of me."

Meiko laughed. "She's so fake, then."

"Very. But not unkind... After that, well, she treated me."

"And you cuddled? For warmth, I guess."

"She needed it."

Meiko nodded slowly. "Hey, I know you wrote down all your feelings about that after the fact, but now that it's been a while... How does it make you feel now? Canoodling with someone you barely tolerate, saving their life twice... That's on top of your coworker dying. How are you digesting all this?"

"That's a complicated one. Read the rest."

"Okay."

Meiko obliged, turning two, three pages of text. Then her eyes bugged out of her skull.

"You two kissed?!" she asked, her tone incredulous. "Like, full on, mouth-to-mouth?"

"We did, yeah."

Meiko read a bit further before exclaiming, "'It was nice'?!"

"It was," Luka easily admitted.

Meiko sighed. "I don't know how to process this. You guys went through a lot in four days."

"We did."

"You hated her."

"But she didn't deserve it, not really."

Meiko ran a hand through her short brown hair. "Oh man. This is insane."

"Keep reading."

She did, turning the page, but she merely blinked once more. "You drew her again!"

"Ah, yeah. She caught me drawing those other sketches and asked me to draw her this time."

"So you drew her twice."

"Well, the first one didn't come out too nice."

Meiko raised one brow before studying the drawings more closely. She lingered on the portrait in particular, peering at it for a long time.

"What is it?"

" It looks just like her."

"I sure hope it might. I know I'm not great at it but—"

"We've been through this before, Luka. You're a great artist. Stop selling yourself short. But... Did she see this?"

"She did. Why?"

Meiko closed the book.

"You're not done," Luka said.

"How did she react when she saw this?"

"She didn't react, really. She just looked at it and then gave it back to me."

Meiko groaned, then said, "Luka, I'm going to tell you something very important."

"Yeah?"

"If she saw this, and if she has two functioning eyes and a fair brain, then..." She sighed. "Then she knows you probably have a massive crush on her."

Luka frowned. "I do not."

"Fine. Maybe not. But something is going on here. I don't know if you two just have the most wicked chemistry for some reason, but you literally went from wishing her dead to kissing her in the span of four days. And this? I've seen what she looks like, Luka. She looks like this. But here, she also looks like the way you see her. And man, it's flattering."

Luka frowned. "I'm just not really good at capturing an honest likeness, then."

"No, you don't get it. This is undeniably Miku Hatsune. But it's also her in her best light. Her best angle. Her best everything. You looked at her and saw only the best, and you drew that."

"You're getting all that from a sketch?"

"Yeah, because your previous one didn't have this to the same degree. It did, just not so intensely. Man, I knew something was up with that earlier drawing. One second." Meiko leafed through it, then showed Luka the three drawings, side by side. "See? There's a clear difference between these portraits!"

Luka shrugged. "Probably because I drew her the first time because I thought she looked funny."

"Oh, is this meant to be humorous? 'Cause that doesn't translate at all," Meiko said. "You saw something in her when you drew her the first time. And the second and third time, you were seeing it a lot more intensely. What, is it this princely aura you mentioned?"

"Probably?"

Meiko stared at her for a moment. "You... You really don't think it's a crush."

"No. At least..." Luka hummed. "It would suck if it was."

"You were so excited when I said she'd talked about you."

Luka shook her head. "But she's so much younger than me, though!"

"Only by a handful of years. She's almost nineteen now, no?"

"And she's so fake! Every person she speaks to, she speaks to differently!"

"Was she honest with you?"

Luka paused. "I think she was."

"Or do you want her to be?"

"I don't know." Luka bit her lip. Her leg bounced harder. "She was almost, almost normal during those last few nights. Sure, she has a permanent selfish streak, she's a bit of a diva, but she didn't complain as much and could hold a normal conversation. I'd like to think I saw an honest side of her."

Meiko nodded slowly. "And now she's fake again for the TV."

"Not just the TV. Her father can't stand her. Her mother probably can't, either. I don't know how she is with her friends. Or her other employees. Or that fucking boyfriend."

"You hate this guy. What happened?"

Luka looked at her. "I promised her I'd never tell anyone."

"You can tell me."

She groaned. "I can't do that to her."

"Luka, this is important."

"Why? Why is it so important? Fine, maybe I saw a different side of her, maybe I'm crushing a little, maybe it's all very complicated emotionally! Someone I know died recently, I'm still mourning that. I still have nightmares about the crash. I just don't have time to deal with this stuff. Either way, crushes fade. I'll get therapy, two months will pass before I see her again, and then it'll all be normal. End of story."

Meiko nodded slowly. "Right. You've been through a lot. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's okay. It's just... It's a tough situation. It's an embarrassing one. I can't tell anyone."

"Okay."

Luka sighed. "I appreciate your support, though. Thanks for being here for me."

Meiko gently punched her shoulder. "Anytime, pal. Want to get burgers tomorrow?"

"Fuck yes."