Put these rocks in your pockets and try not to drown.

(Chapter warnings:
- Mentions of vomit and blood
- Violence
- Description of the inside of someone's mouth
- Totalitarian regime)

The Republic of Eastern Gorteau was known internationally as a morally reprehensible political unit. Whether it was the exploitation of the population, the over-militarization of the territory - which had been limited to the entire Balsa Islands when the Mitene Union was created - or the lack of communication between the government and the rest of the world, which had led to the Mitene Union being rejected by the V5, even though the Begerossé Union had been accepted. Yet the Begerossé Union was the prime example of a fragile economy whose foundations threatened to collapse at the first gust of wind.

Naturally, the public took great offence, scapegoating a government that couldn't even pretend to know what it was doing for greater opportunity. And that's when Ming Jol-ik rose to power. And it wasn't much better.

Having lived through the coup, as well as the failure of the nationalist revolution to overthrow Jol-ik, was something she could brag about. Most people had only survived one, especially those who lived near the capital as she did at the time. Having been forced to leave school as a teenager to support the nearby orphanage for a few coins that could only sustain her for a day or so, it was only natural that she jumped at the chance to join the nation's army. The salary promised was enough to lure the most desperate, and the most vain, which ultimately covered the entire population.

She hadn't particularly stood out in the entrance exams. The intellectual tests almost dealt a fatal blow to her performance, but spending her life sneaking into every nook and cranny of the orphanage and managing children suffering from rabies or delirium, for example, managed to keep her head above water in the physical tests. That said, compared to those who had received the information earlier, or even those from more privileged backgrounds, her mark seemed... mediocre. Of course, they had come much more prepared, after all.

Nonetheless, she'd made it, and when she was deployed for the first time, she had to admit that she regretted her decision a little. Since money was her only motivation, going off to war for a country she had little to no care for was an ordeal that almost broke her resolve. She'd lost count of the nights she'd spent in her tent, breathing heavily, huddled-up on the ground, images of comrades - whom she'd unfortunately come to like - dead, dancing behind her eyelids, imprinted on her retina.

"Imel?"

The small voice of a child brought her back to her senses, and when she allowed herself to look down at the person who had called her, she ended up nose-to-nose with little Lusamina, who was nibbling a sour candy. Lusamina looked at her with big, curious eyes. She liked this little girl, who was after all a notable pillar in her acclimatization to her new identity. A new name had been assigned to her as soon as she entered the ranks of the army, mainly to prevent the opposing powers from gathering data through her vital information. At first, she hated it. It was like denying a heritage she herself had never known - after all, her father, and she suspected her mother too, came from Meteor City.

She'd never been there, so inevitably the transition was quicker than expected. Before long, this second name was second nature to her, and fit her like a glove. She sometimes had slips of the tongue, or didn't respond when addressed by that name, but generally speaking, she managed, and rather well.

With a gesture, she ruffled Lusamina's hair. What a nice little girl.

...

Teaching Lusamina was no easy work. Physically, she was unable to speak for too long, or too loudly, so it was difficult to see her progress, except in writing. Well, if you could even call it writing. Imel had to squint to read, and even then, the letters were unrecognizable, too stretched or too stunted, bent in on themselves, blending into each other. But Lusamina looked at her with such hope that she always settled for a not bad, before closing the notebooks and moving on to the evening exam.

First, Imel would ask her to open her mouth, which Lusamina did most of the time. All that remained was to observe the damage. Her tongue seemed less swollen, thanks to the treatment and the dozen or so drugs she had to swallow in quick succession at various times of the day, but the gums still had that scarlet tint, swollen under the baby teeth in good condition since Imel had taught her how to brush her teeth. Sometimes Imel was afraid of the bleeding that came from the little girl's mouth, as she was never sure whether the blood was coming from her gums or her throat. She coughed a lot, after all. Her lymph nodes were double in size all the time, right under her jaw, and swallowing was sometimes so difficult that she preferred to let the saliva run out of her mouth. This was the only behavioral disorder Imel didn't have the heart to correct in her. It was only a matter of avoiding certain pain. So Imel patiently wiped away the drool and patted her on the shoulder to reassure her that she'd done nothing wrong.

Sometimes, however, she lost her patience. Her vomiting late into the night didn't help the older woman's already disturbed sleep pattern, and her lack of progress in terms of learning didn't comfort the young woman in the slightest. But Imel couldn't bring herself to give up. And it paid off in the end.

If there was one thing Lusamina knew how to do, it was listen. She listened and gathered information faster than anyone else. Her mind was sharp, but she had few opportunities to prove it. Imel saw this clever mind for the first time when she was traveling in the capital of Peijin. She was sure to have little Lusamina sound asleep at home, her medicine nearby, and the window open so she wouldn't suffocate in the humors of her own illness. But as Imel made her way through the streets, she was surprised to find that she'd forgotten the very letter she'd come to bring. And when she was about to sprawl pathetically on the floor to beg forgiveness from her superior, he congratulated her on her work and discretion, for sending a child to deliver the missive in her place. He warned her, however, to be careful, for when the child grew up, she would seek her own interest and no longer act out of kindness, but for some benefit.

Imel thanked the heavens for having spoken aloud about the letter the day before.

...

Imel didn't necessarily have time to take care of the house. Since the politics of Eastern Gorteau rested mainly on a military suboligarchy, just below Jol-ik's authority, she had her hands full when it came to paperwork. Lusamina took care of the rest. Cleaning the floors and cooking were daily chores for her, and she did them without flinching. And then, at least, progress was visible. The house was spotless, the food was getting better and better, and Lusamina was finding a way to entertain herself effectively, instead of staring half-heartedly out of the window waiting for birds that would never come.

Finally, she was able to read, so she also kept herself busy by reading the newspaper. But Imel preferred to throw the newspaper down the chimney, saying it was just a load of nonsense that would put holes in her brain. Lusamina had no friends, after all. She was always alone, so she'd escape the house and wander the streets. She liked to watch people, and what they were doing. She always made sure she had money with her, so she could buy food if she came across any. But she always ended up giving the coins to other children who looked at the apples with envy.

Lusamina understood. She loved apples. Especially red ones. Red was such a pretty color. A warm color she'd happily wrap herself in if she had the chance. Red was anger, and red was passion. She loved both.

Lusamina always noticed the new faces. They stood out from the very stereotypical population. Sometimes, she would follow these strangers, and giggle to herself at the looks cast in their direction. Lusamina jumped off rooftops for fun, too. But she had bumped into someone, unintentionally, one evening. And that was strange, because no one ever stood on the rooftops after her.

Stranger still, this person hadn't even shuddered at their collision, whereas she'd had to take several steps backwards, and steady herself so as not to fall off the tiles arranged in a thin line. Of course, she'd had to miss falling onto a building with a much steeper roof. She looked up at this person, whom she eventually identified as a man.

He turned his eyes towards her and winced slightly. Unconsciously, she mimicked his slightly disdainful expression, out of habit, before dusting off her clothes. She wasn't one to judge on first impressions, but this young man... looked dirty. A teenager who hadn't seen the light of day - or a source of water - for at least a few months. Nevertheless, he inspired confidence, with large hazel eyes that softened his features. Besides, he wasn't much taller than her.

So, when he extended his hand toward her, certainly waiting for her to shake it, Lusamina tilted her head to the side. "Hi." He said with a smile that creased his face from ear to ear. "Ging. I understand there's some interesting stuff around here. Do you know the area?"