"Geez, the rain never stops these days," the Admiral's grandson, Sean Sullivan, reached his hand forward, letting droplets fall into the open palm. They were light, too light to drench things—but without cover, they'd still get wet regardless, so he put the umbrella up anyway.

Just moments after the words left his mouth, the rain stopped, the black clouds dispersed, and the sun reappeared over the port, accompanied by a faint, wispy rainbow.

"I like the rain," Bel casually remarked, smiling as Sean closed the umbrella. He looked slightly dazed as he did that but smiled back at her soon enough.

"Well, I used to like rain, too. When I was six or so, I'd put a raincoat and boots on and skip in the puddle whenever it rains."

"That sounds fun."

"It was fun for a kid," Sean answered, his eyes absently wandering the road surface. There were several puddles of different sizes and shapes. He felt a bubbling urge to splash on them, but he tried to rein it in, not wanting to be seen as childish. To distract himself, he began looking around once again. By chance, his roving eyes caught sight of Bel's feet and the shoes she was wearing. They weren't her usual pair.

"Ghillies…?"

Bel paused and followed Sean's gaze on her shoes. He looked pleasantly surprised at the sight of them.

"…Oh, these," she perked up, elated by the interest. "I'm learning to dance. Sister Belfast is teaching me."

"Ah, so that's it. I can't wait to see it now—Bel, star of the Riverdance. She'd leave everybody amazed, for sure," Sean laughed as Bel turned red and poked his arm lightly.

"Do‐don't tease me, please."

"Hey, why would I tease you?"

"I…I meant, that was, you see, embarrassing, and…"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Sean held both hands in front of him. "I'm just kinda surprised you took up dancing, that's all."

"My sisters are good at it, so I want to be like them too."

"Oh," Sean nodded. While he knew Belfast was surprisingly adept at the jig and the reel, Edinburgh didn't strike him as someone who did, especially considering how clumsy she usually was. But seeing that admiring gleam Bel had as she spoke, he felt inclined to believe that was the case.

"I'm surprised, too," Bel remarked, earning her a questioning look from the boy.

"Surprised?"

"You recognized these shoes."

"Well…" Sean scratched the back of his head, "mom used to own a pair just like yours."

"Oh, so the mistress is a dancer too."

"Not anymore. Mom lost her interest after hurting her back pretty badly."

"Ah, that's unfortunate," Bel shook her head with pity. She wasn't surprised if anyone could get hurt from taking up dancing, considering how demanding it could be; so far, she had not been hurt, and she could only hope it would never happen to her.

"Well, she took it well, so all is fine, I guess," Sean shrugged as they passed another puddle and then another—there were quite a lot of them, and all of them seemed to call out to him. He did his best to ignore them.

"…What about you? Are you not interested in trying?"

Sean looked back with disbelief; she, of all people, should've known he would be terrible at it.

"Well, nope. I'm just going to make a fool of myself, so no thanks," he waved his hands. That unexpectedly had Bel laughing softly.

"It's not hard to do, really," she insisted.

"Prove it, then," he challenged; his tone was playful, but Bel could see that keen glint in his eyes.

"Well, I suppose I could show you," she said, closing her eyes to gain confidence. Sean watched as she tapped her foot on the pavement a few times, likely to the beat of an imaginary rhythm.

She paused to put her right foot forward, point first, followed by a series of shuffling steps and hops, alternating between the left and right foot.

The youthful display left Sean feeling somewhat ashamed—and old. Bel didn't notice, as she was too caught up in keeping steady footwork. Too caught up, perhaps, because she didn't see the puddle in front of her and landed on it, splashing water on her dress.

She looked back to see Sean approaching, wearing a look of worry, and smiled to tell him it was unnecessary.

"You're right. It is fun," she exclaimed, paying no regard to her now damp dress.

"Huh…?"

Seeing the boy's puzzled expression, Bel laughed, turned around, and repeated the steps with more bounce to them, splashing water everywhere. She did so without hesitation, seemingly uncaring if people would see it as childish.

And even if she didn't say it, he could understand. Her lighthearted giggle was enough of an invitation.

He didn't have any boots with him, and they would probably get an earful if Belfast or even his grandmother saw them all wet.

Yet, despite that, and despite how unladylike it was, he wouldn't stop Bel from dancing in the puddle; he wouldn't stop himself from joining her either.

As he did, he realized—maybe jumping in the puddle at their age wasn't childish at all.

After all, they're young and could be carefree—as they should be.