And Who Will Watch The Watchers?

[Sophie]

Yua Hinamoto had always been a dull woman. She was of average height, average build, and average attractiveness. She was even just a Common House Spider Kumo. In her high school, she didn’t even win the award for most Average (an award intended to push students to be more, now done away with) and instead took third out of five. Even though she worked at the Kumosenkan Capitol building, she still managed to hold an exclusively dull position of mid-level bureaucrat.

Her husband, also dull, managed to be a passable homemaker. He kept the house clean, made decent meals, and always picked up their daughter on time from school. Unlike Yua, he had not attended college and had little skill outside of homemaking.

However, despite coming from such highly dull backgrounds, they had managed to make an extraordinary daughter. Saio Hinamoto had shown signs of extreme intelligence from as early as age six. She managed to grasp algebra quickly as early as ten. Despite her intelligence, she did horribly on exams. The pressure was always her downfall. In even slightly stressful situations, Saio had a tendency to break down in tears, becoming inconsolable for, at times, hours.

Usually, intelligence like Saio’s would get her a full-ride entry into any university of her choice. In Kumosenkan or Zarich. These scholarships were awarded by exam only. When Saio entered the exam, she had a full-scale meltdown to the point that she had to be taken to the hospital. In a week, once she had recovered, Saio cried at her mother's feet, begging for forgiveness. She even promised to get a job to pay her back for the entrance fees.

Yua was devastated. The only extraordinary part of her life was seemingly consigned to a life of mediocrity because her mother couldn’t afford full college tuition. In the heat of the moment, she lied. “It's okay, honey. You know they just started offering a special scholarship for the children of state employees. With that and what mom makes at work, I can send you anywhere you wanna go.”

Now, if she scrimped and saved here and there, she could probably afford a local two-year college or even a trade school. But on her mother's promise, Saio applied and was accepted by the Fuyonouso Institute of Technologies for a six-year degree in electrical engineering. A single semester’s tuition was more than Yua made in an entire year. After the first year in university, Yua was already in crippling debt. Until she received some help.

---

After a rather long day of work, Yua made her way home on the subway system. Twelve stops and a single transfer from the capitol station and she was a single block from her one-story wooden Minka home left to her by her late parents. Upon sliding open the door, her ever-cheerful husband called out. “Welcome home, honey! Guess who came to surprise us.”

As Yua rounded the corner, her heart melted, and along with it, the ever-boiling stress. “Saio!” She shouted and rushed to give her daughter a tight hug. “What are you doing here? Your semester doesn’t end for another month.”

“I called dad; I got the week off. I needed a home-cooked meal before finals week.” Saio explained with a sheepish smile. “Did he not tell you?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” Haruto Hinamoto answered. “I thought it’d make your mom so excited.”

“It definitely did!” Yua cheered. “I hope you have something great for dinner planned since you kept this from me.” She teased with a wink. “Because I bought us yakisoba bowls from the convenience store.”

“We are having,” Haruto held the note on ‘having’ while pulling up his ladle filled with food. “Shogayaki!”

A night of shared laughter progressed in the Hinamoto household for many hours until Saio finally crawled into bed. Her parents were sharing a nightcap of Elenrian Coffee. Though the mood of the room changed once Haruto changed the topic from their daughter. “Yua… I need to ask you something.”

Yua almost choked on the tension in her throat. “Y… yes my love?” She tried to put on a smile.

“My mom called the other day. She wanted to know how Saio’s college was going. I told her that it was going well but that we couldn’t afford to keep it going. She offered to help, but when I called the bank, they said our debt had been settled.” He stared seriously into his wife’s eyes as she shakily took a sip of her coffee. “Yua. How did you pay off our debt?”

“I… Listen. I am the one who makes the money in this house. It's not a man's job to worry about the financials.” Yua rattled off, almost like she was reading from a script.

Baffled, Haruto responded. “When you decided that Saio could go to that college, you said ‘WE’ would figure it out. We’ve always been a team. What on Ouhiri is going on?”

Yua could hear her heart pounding as her vision tunneled. “I… I got a bonus at work. I put it all to the debt.”

“You got six hundred thousand yairen as a bonus?!” He almost screamed, only holding himself back not to wake up their daughter. “And you didn’t tell me about it?”

“Y- yes.” She responded hesitantly.

“Damn it, Yua!” Haruto punched the table. “Why are you lying to me? I know that’s not true. Whatever is going on, I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s happening.”

After a full minute of silence, Yua answered. “Will you always be on my side? No matter what?”

“Of course I will Yua.” Haruto reached out his hand and held hers. “Please, what happened.”

---

The next day as Yua was going to work, she met up with her friend at a small croquette stand just outside the Capitol. A lot of Yua’s nerves had been waived the previous night, but she still felt on edge. As she chatted with her friend, she thought she must be completely paranoid. Her friend seemed anxious, not fully present, like something specific was on her mind, but she couldn’t say.

As the two of them approached the front of the line, Yua couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Hina? Are you okay? You seem off.”

Hina perked up and laughed anxiously. “Off? Hahaha! No, I’m fine Yua! Really! Just excited to get to work!”

Completely unassured and, in fact, more anxious, Yua acquiesced. “Okay… Since when are you so excited about work?”

“Always!” Hina assured with another forced laugh. “I love my job!” She cheered as they got to the front of the line. “Get whatever you like on me!”

“Th- thank you?” Yua turned to the stand owner. “Can I get a beef croquette?”

“I’ll have the same!” Hina answered, pulling out two ten yairen coins and handing them to the owner.

They both got their breakfast snack and walked over into the building. Once inside, Yua felt… watched. Like every other pair of eyes were on her. She waved goodbye to her friend, who didn’t wave back but did keep watching her.

Her anxiety had officially peaked as she looked at her office. The blinds were drawn, and the door was closed. With a shaking hand, she turned the knob. The light was on and humming. And in her usual seat, on a cushion, she had brought from home herself. Was a woman she had never seen before, staring right at her with a smile.

And with that smile, the woman asked. “Yua Hinamoto?” Her voice was soft and, in any other context, would be calming, but not now.

“That’s me.” She spoke carefully, trying desperately to hold back the tidal wave of fear she now felt. “Who are you?”

The Black Widow Kumo stood from her stolen seat. Her tight black suit clung to her body, showing off her form perfectly. “I’m officer Reiri Kamura with internal security. Let’s have a talk.”

[Sophie]

“So,” the smooth, sultry voice of the Albino Crown Spider Kumo echoed in the isolated concrete room. “This is her?”

“It is.” An answer came from the only other albino in the Kumosenkan government. The Goliath-Bird-Eater Kumo was only half-albino but enough of an albino to know that she shared the affliction with the woman before her. However, she was wise enough never to mention it.

The Empress stared through the one-way mirror into yet another concrete room with naught but a cushion, table, and a lone woman. The woman could be wholly summed up in a single word. Dull. Nothing about her was interesting. The Ministry of Enforcement and Security had done a full workup on her, and nothing had popped up. Except for the lone document that had piqued the interest in the first place.

Form FA876J-EM2A. A document from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs authorized high-value individuals to attend long-term diplomatic missions in foreign nations. A bureaucrat could only approve a form of this magnitude after the Empress herself had approved it. Every bureaucrat was taught that a form with the EM designation required the Empress's authorization.

“The buck doesn’t stop with her, does it?” The Empress of Kumosenkan placed a single finger on the glass, pointing straight at the woman.

With a very slight shake of her head, the ever-suspicious Minister of State police answered. “No. It doesn’t not.” Nao Tomori opened up the file she had brought in with her. “Yua Hinamoto. Forty-Five years old. Level two bureaucrat with her own office in the Capitol. No priors, not even a Failure to Hunt, which we haven’t enforced in decades. She’s three degrees of separation from the nearest criminal in her life.”

“Mrs. Clean?” The Empress asked. Posing the theoretical question of the ‘perfect criminal.’

With a chuckle and a twitched eye towards the mirror, Tomori answered. “As close as I’ve ever seen. When she got her security clearance, she got no pings. No known contacts in any extremist or sub-extremist groups. She didn’t even attend any of the protests of ‘14.”

“Did she have any motive to?” The Empress pressed.

“To attend the protests?” Tomori clarified. “Yes, her mother had coronary heart disease and blew through all her savings trying to care for her.”

“Then why now?” The Empress posited. “Why commit an act she must know is treason, now?”

“Let's find out together, shall we, your highness?” Tomori answered before peaking her head out the door. In the hall, a Black Widow Kumo stood smoking a long cigarette. “Kamura-kas,” Tomori spoke with an excited jitter. “She’s ready for you.”

Tomori and Shiraori stared through the glass as the Internal Security agent entered the room. She blew the last drag of her cigarette into the slow-spinning vent fan. “Do you smoke?” She asked, offering a cigarette to the seated Kumo.

Yua Hinamoto shook her head, her eight legs shifting below her, trying to get comfortable against the hard cold cushion. “No, thank you.”

Kamura shrugged and put the cigarettes back into her suit pocket. “I wanna thank you for coming in so peacefully. I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your coworkers.” Slowly and deliberately, Kamura placed her pedipalps at the other end of the table and began to sit. Her poise was calm, non-confrontational, and almost soothing.

“Then why arrest me at all?” Yua questioned. “I- I didn’t do anything wrong.”

With a disarming smile, Kamura put up a hand. “Woah, now. I never used the A word. I just wanted to talk to you, and you agreed.” She put her hand down on the table and crossed her arms as if offended slightly. “I just want to have a conversation with you. Is that alright?”

Yua almost choked. It was blatantly obvious to her that she had no choice in the matter. “A conversation about what?” Her heart pounded in her chest as her fight or flight response flared at the agent’s smile.

“Your job.” This blunt answer accelerated Yua’s anxiety tenfold. “You’ve been working in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for twenty-three years now, right?”

“Yes. Right out of university.” Yua confirmed with a very dry swallow.

“You were promoted to a level two bureaucrat six months ago. Correct?” Kamura continued asking softball questions and hoped to get Yua in the habit of answering in the affirmative.

“I was, yes.” Yua nodded her head. Her anxiety still boiled, but the simple questions gave her a glimmer of hope that this might be about something other than what she did.

“However, when the ministry hired you, they did so at level five, the lowest level, am I right?” Kamura pressed while opening the manilla folder she had brought in, tracing her finger along nothing. A common intimidation tactic to get the target to believe they know everything.

“That’s correct. Why does that matter?” Yua asked, genuinely not sure of its relevance.

Kamura looked up and answered simply. “The usual requirement for level two and level one bureaucrats is a doctorate in the relevant field. Did you know that?”

With a nod, “Yes, I knew that,” Yua assured.

“But you were promoted to level two without even a master’s in the field of Foreign Affairs. Your only degree is an undergraduate degree in communications. Yes?”

A wave of relief hit Yua as she thought to herself Is that all this is about? I got promoted without the formal requirements? Almost excitedly, she answered. “That’s correct. That is the only degree I have.”

A grin crossed Kamura’s face. “Would you say you are qualified for your position as a level two?”

“Yes, I do,” Yua answered with actual confidence.

Kamura felt an almost euphoric sense of superiority. As her nature to trap her prey was being enacted. “I assume you feel that way because of your twenty years of service or your most recent performance review in which your superior claimed you are ‘An immaculate bureaucrat who seems immune to errors.’? I assume it's a combination of both, right?”

“Both, yes.” Yua shook her head with speed.

Kamura hoped that she had laid enough groundwork for Yua to answer yes to the next question. “Do you agree with the sentiment that you are ‘immune to errors?’”

“Yes!” Yua answered, wanting to instill confidence in her own work so that this agent wouldn’t recommend her demotion. A second later, she realized how much of an oversell that was. “Not immune! Of course, I’m only Kumo, after all. I’ve never made any egregious error that my manager or anyone else has caught.”

You might be Mrs. Clean, after all, with an answer like that. Kamura thought, completely misinterpreting Yua’s intent. “So someone as skilled as you wouldn’t make an obvious, glaring mistake that even a level five wouldn’t make, right?”

The anxiety returned immediately. But she knew changing her answer now would only amount to more suspicion. “R… right.” Her voice was defeated now as she waited for the next question.

“So,” the agent flipped a few pages in the folder, her smile still warm and her eyes still locked on Yua. “You wouldn’t accidentally approve an erroneously submitted EM-tagged form, right?”

Fear, dread, loathing, absolute terror. All of which were emotions hanging over Yua. Her legs slowly splayed out beneath her as she no longer put in the effort to curl them. Her head drooped over the table. She sat unmovingly and barely breathing for a full minute before the agent interjected. “You were answering so confidently before. The EM tag is one of the first in training you’re taught about. You know what it means, right?”

A barely audible “Yes,” originated from Yua’s side of the table.

“Then you should be familiar with form FA876J-EM2A. Yes?” Kamura prodded the final nail into Yua’s anxiety-filled coffin.

There was no more doubt. There was no more point. It was over. Yua couldn’t even muster the strength to move her lips to answer.

“Since your promotion to level two, you have approved almost a dozen FA876J-EM2A forms, yes?” She continued with her questions anyway, taking the lack of answers as a yes. “I have them all here, actually.” She pulled out twelve pieces of paper and slid them all over to Yua. Slowly, Kamura crept over to her side of the table, looking at the forms with her. With a finger on the bottom line of one, she asked. “That is your signature, right?”

A raspy, almost dead voice answered. “Yes.”

“And this one too?” She pointed at the following form. “And this one, in fact, all of them. Your signature, yes?”

Barely moving her eyes to confirm, Yua answered. “Yes.”

Pulling out one final form from her folder, she asked a last time. “And this one. That is your signature, yes?”

“Yes.” Her voice croaked as if she hadn’t had a sip of water in days.

“Now, there’s something different about this,” She held out the final form. “Form as compared to the others.” She laid the paper next to the others and started with the others, and she pointed to the Empress’s signature on each and every one until she got to the last. A brazenly different signature. “What does that signature say?”

Her eyes laid on the name. ‘Riko Kure.’ A name synonymous with victory, now applied as Yua’s defeat. She couldn’t answer; she did not have the strength.

“It's not ‘Shiraori Tetsu Kumo’ now, is it?” The softness in the agent's voice was still ever present as if she was correcting a first grader on a missed math problem.

Still, Yua did not answer. Instead, she simply shook her head no.

“No, it's not. And that’s a problem, isn’t it?” She waited for Yua’s head nod before continuing. “Because in all the other forms, it is her name. Now, you already said you wouldn’t make a mistake like that. So if this wasn’t an error, what was it?”

Yua didn’t move; she didn’t answer; she could barely even think. Kamura pressed, knowing she wouldn’t get any responses for a while. “If it wasn’t an error, then there is only one other thing it could be.” She held the silence for a moment, let the softness drop from her voice, and whispered into her ear. “Treason.”

The single worst crime that could be committed in Kumosenkan by weight of punishment was now on the table. “I’m sure you know this, but the punishment for treason isn’t limited to just you. It extends to everyone you know. You, of course, will be killed. Your husband and his parents will spend the rest of their lives in prison, and any of your friends that we can even tangentially connect to your crime will join them. Anyone you ever talked to will spend the rest of their lives under extreme surveillance.”

Yua felt the devastating weight of everything she was being threatened with. “Oh, and we can’t forget your poor daughter.” Kamura’s voice was outright venomous. “After all, I couldn’t help but notice that all the debt you took out for her college just happens to be gone. In your attempt to set her up for a better life, you have only doomed her to a life of menial labor.”

That was the final nail in Yua’s coffin. If one were to give her a gun, she wouldn’t use it to attempt an escape. She would simply end all her suffering. With the last of her energy, she begged. “Please. No.”

Pretending she didn’t hear her, Kamura allowed the softness to return to her voice. “But I don’t want to do that to you.” Yua’s head snapped to stare at Kamura with the slightest glimmer of hope. “Let me pose a hypothetical to you. Someone, either a higher-up or someone you had never even met, learned about how much debt you had gotten into and contacted you. They told you that they would not only pay off your debt but cover the rest of your daughter’s tuition. The solution to all your problems was handed to you on a silver platter. It sounded too good to be true, but you would be foolish to say no. So you said yes. A day later, you check your account, and half your debt had been paid.”

Kamura met Yua’s gaze. “How am I doing so far?” Yua dared not say a word, fearing walking into another trap. “But then here’s where things took a turn. The person who approached you handed you a form.” She grabbed the piece of paper with Riko Kure’s name on it. “This form, and told you to approve it. You knew the ramifications of signing such a fraudulent document and probably even said no at first. Then, she told you. You already accepted her money. She could out you for treason at any moment. She told you, you’re already guilty of treason; you might as well do what she says and continue to pay off your daughter’s debt. Kind of an impossible offer to reject, am I right?”

Yua stared at Kamura in complete disbelief, no longer not answering out of fear but instead out of shock. Kamura continued. “To be honest. It's an almost understandable situation. You wanted a better life for your daughter than you have for yourself. Hard to do when you make a level two bureaucrat’s salary. Not to mention your husband pulls in no money.”

This line of reasoning made Yua feel almost naked. “Now, I have a crumb of good news for you. A low-ranking officer would want to convict you no matter what. A guilty verdict on a treason charge is a guaranteed promotion for any internal security officer. And this,” She put down the form right before Yua. “Is a layup.”

“H- how is that good news?” She pressed.

“I am a high-ranking officer. I am as highly promoted as I am going to get. I don’t want to kill some mom who just wanted to improve her daughter’s life.” For the first time, Kamura’s soft voice was actually calming to Yua.

“Why not?” Yua asked carefully.

“Well, number one, I’m a mom. So I understand wanting to do anything to ensure your kid's life is better than yours.” Kamura swept the forms back into her folder and sat across from Yua again. “Number two, arresting you wouldn’t actually solve anything. I want to get the people who took advantage of you and your situation.” The lifeline had been cast, but Kamura wanted to hammer her point home. “Because I guarantee you are not the only desperate mom these monsters are taking advantage of.”

Yua’s eyes almost glimmered in the dim light of the interrogation room. “Y… you’re letting me go?”

“I want to,” Kamura confirmed with a smile. “But I’d lose my job if I just let someone guilty of treason go.” She softly gripped Yua’s hands, trying to keep her reassurance high. “Instead, I want to make you an offer. I need you to help me get these girls. I need you to tell me everything you know about them and promise to do everything you can to help me bring them to justice.”

“And if I do that… you won’t kill me? Or arrest my daughter?” Yua asked hopefully, realizing there was no point in holding back anymore.

“You have my word.” Kamura smiled and squeezed Yua’s hand.

[Sophie]

The next day Yua returned to work along her normal route. The ministry of Enforcement and Security had dropped her off at her typical subway station in the officer’s unmarked car. Finally free, the Common House Spider Kumo took a breath to relax once she took her seat in the metro car. The reprieve didn’t last long as the officer’s instructions rang through her head. Yua tried to take a few breaths to calm herself down, but she ended up gulping down too much and hiccuping.

After failing to calm herself down, she felt a familiar feeling. It was the same feeling she had walking into work the other day. Someone was watching her. Before she could panic, she arrived at her stop. Dozens of Kumo got off, and then dozens more got on the train. In line at her usual Croquette stand was Yua’s friend.

“Yua!” Hina jumped out of line and hugged her friend tightly. “Thank the spirits. I never thought I’d see you again!”

With a nervous laugh, Yua tried to wave it off. “Whaat? What are you even talking about, Hina?”

“You got taken away by internal security yesterday! They interrogated me the night before all about you.” Hina admitted.

“Oh, that?” Yua tried to laugh again. “No, they were just confused about how I got my position without a Doctorate. They asked some questions and tested my competency. When they were satisfied with my answers, they re-upped my security clearance and let me go home.” Yua repeated the exact line the officer had fed her to repeat when someone questioned her.

“Thank the Empress.” Hina kissed Yua’s cheek. “I promise I told them all good things about you.” She squeezed Yua tight before breaking the hug with an imperishable smile. “I was so scared for you, Yua!”

“Come on, Hina. It’s me.” Yua shrugged. “I’ve never done anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I’ve just heard so many stories about Internal Security I got a little paranoid.” Hina laughed. “Well then, to celebrate your release, I’ll buy you breakfast!” As the two approached the front of the line, Hina put two fingers up. “Two, please!”

With egg croquettes in their bellies, the two best friends walked into work hand in hand at Hina’s insistence. They only broke off at Yua’s office. She did breathe a sigh of relief, still seeing her name on the door. Plenty of paperwork had piled up in her inbox.

As Yua got settled in to start her work, her supervisor walked in. Uragiri Nisemono, a feather-legged orb-weaver Kumo. Yua felt an intense level of anxiety as she began to speak. “Welcome back Hinamoto-kan.” Her voice was low and cold as she locked the door behind her and drew the blinds.

The temperature of the room rose sharply. “I trust your meeting with Internal Security went well?”

Yua gulped but relied on everything the officer had instructed her on the night prior. “Yep!” Her answer was confident. “Just a misunderstanding about my degree.”

“Good.” The response was disinterested. “I have an essential set of documents for you to work on. Priority one.” She placed a thick manilla folder on her desk and turned to leave. “Get to it.”

“Yes, Nisemono-kama. I’ll get right on it.” Yua assured as the supervisor left.

She carefully opened up the folder and began working through the documents. After going through five, she came upon a file that did not exist. It had never been circulated and had never been taught. This is how they communicated before.

The communication was easy to decipher every other word that was filled in by hand. MEET TONIGHT. EIGHT PM. BOTTOM FLOOR OF PARKING GARAGE.

She immediately folded and pocketed the file and continued on with her work. Hours later, another woman entered her office. A level three bureaucrat Yua had interacted with from time to time. A three-lobed Kumo named Yuumo Ryuuja. She, too, closed and locked the door with the blinds. “Good afternoon, Hinamoto-kan. I believe Reiri Kamura informed you that I would be contacting you.”

“You’re with In-”

Before Yua could finish, Ryuuja put a hand up. “Yes. I will be your contact from here on out.”

“What about Kamura-kama?” Yua asked.

“She doesn’t work here. It’d draw a lot of suspicions for her to interact with you further. We have reason to believe that the traitors have several contacts in this building. Have they contacted you yet?” The internal security agent sat at the other edge of her desk with a fully neutral expression.

“Y- yes I think so.” She handed over the form she had stuffed in her pocket.

After a quick explanation of the form method of contact, the officer nodded. “I agree this seems likely to be contact.”

Yua searched the agent’s eyes. “Well? What do I do?”

“You go to the meeting. As intended.” Ryuuja instructed.

“What? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yua protested. Her friends and coworkers seem to have bought the story. But she didn’t think the traitors would.

“I believe you were instructed to follow all orders from Internal Security.” Ryuuja’s voice remained indifferent but added a drop of ice. “I will have a team keeping an eye on you from the shadows. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

This did nothing to cure Yua’s anxiety, but she knew she had no choice. “Okay. I’ll get it done.”

Hina invited Yua to dinner after work, but she waved her off, insisting she needed to stay late to catch up on all the work she missed yesterday. This was both true and a cover. Once seven-fifty rolled around, she left her office and made for the elevator. Once the doors closed, she stood there motionless for way too long. All she could do was stare at the “P5” button.

With all her strength mustered, she pressed it, and slowly the elevator began to bring her down underground. All the lights were off in the underground. She wasn’t sure exactly where to go, so she just walked forward. Eventually, she heard someone call her name. “Yua.” The voice echoed in a hush.

She turned and met the person who stood between the two cars. She was unmistakably Six-Spotted Fishing Kumo. It was her. “G- good evening, Ma’am.”

“Well?” The woman’s voice prodded. “Why were you taken by Internal Security? And why are you back?”

Yua did her best to feed the person she believed to be a traitor the same lie she had been instructed to. “You expect me to believe that shit?” Clearly, to no effect. With a solid oak baseball bat, the shadowed woman made her threats. “Get in the fucking van. Now.”

In a panic, Yua began to look over her shoulder for Ryuuja to come and help her, but nobody came. “What? Looking for your Internal Security friends?” She brought down the bat onto Yua’s head, knocking her to the ground in one fell swoop.

Yua groaned in pain and writhed on the floor as more than three pairs of hands began to drag her into the van.

[Sophie]

“Always good to see you, Tomori-kas.” Empress Shiraori spoke as the ever-twitchy Minister entered her personal study. “I assume you have something for me?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The Minister of Enforcement and Security answered as she slowly approached the desk of the Empress with a blank manilla folder. “But you won’t like it.”

With a defeated sigh, she took the folder. “I looked into the bank account that paid off Hinamoto-kas’s debt; rather, I should say bank accounts,” The Minister continued. “About a dozen contributed to her debt within a single hour. My people so far have been able to trace seven of them back to a single account.”

“So we have our girl?” The Empress asked as she began to pour over the spreadsheets, bank accounts, and yairen.

“You would think. The account belongs to a one Lieutenant General Kikuchi.” Tomori continued, pointing out the accounts as she went along. “Now, that would be great, but…”

“There is no General Kikuchi.” Shiraori finished the Minister’s thought.

Nao shared a look with the Empress. “Exactly.”

Shiraori looked at the account number and the attached name. “The money had to come from somewhere. What account deposited the money for this into the fake General’s account?”

“Some bogus corporation called ‘Riguishi Manufacturing.’ I looked into it, and there are no real names attached to it.” Nao shook her head, pointing out the document debriefing on the company.

“Hold on.” The Empress spoke and began flipping through documents in the folder with haste. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she pulled out a different folder from her filing cabinet. “I know that name.” She continued searching through her files as Nao tried to keep up. Finally, she pulled a specific file. “RBS Riguishi. The Kiseichū class battleship that acts as the flagship of the Ronbun Fleet.”

“I’m not sure I see the connection.” Tomori compared the file on the battleship and the phony corporation. “Woah. She’s had a lot of maintenance. Is that normal?”

As Shiraori continued scrutinizing the Riguishi Manufacturing file, she answered a bit absentmindedly. “Every warship needs maintenance to stay in fighting form. Especially battleships.”

“One billion Yairen in the last year in repairs.” Nao scoffed. “That can’t be right.”

“What the fuck?!” Shiraori snapped and snatched the paper from the Minister. She confirmed it. One billion Yairen for a single year for a single warship of repairs. “We spent less on the entire Kogo Heika fleet during last year’s exercise.”

“Wasn’t a heavy cruiser practically crippled during those games?” Nao asked, flipping through more documents in the folder that she brought.

“She was, and we fixed her for less than a hundred million.” The Empress confirmed going through more papers belonging to the Ronbun fleet.

“Then how does a battleship that has engaged in no combat actions and no more than normal exercises take ten times that much in a single year?” Nao posited now, going back and forth between her paper and the battleship’s.

“She shouldn’t.” The Empress continued as her stomach dropped into a pit as she went over more files from the fleet.

“No fucking way.” Nao gaped at what she was looking at.

The Empress dropped her papers and joined her minister. “What?”

“Look at this.” She began drawing connections from paper to paper. “Every time a payment was made to repair the RBS Riguishi almost precisely a month later, a deposit was made into the account for this phony corporation in the exact amount.”

“That’s rather flagrant.” Shiraori recoiled back, pressing her hand into her temple.

“Spirits. That’s not even the worst of it.” Nao ran her hands through her hair. “The crew payments. Every month the exact amount that is supposed to pay the crew goes into this account.”

“That’s over a hundred million Yairen every month.” She began tracing every monthly payment back for years. With a moment of pause, she stared at the very first deposit into the account. “The account opened with a ten billion Yairen deposit.”

“Ten billion?!” Nao nearly screamed.

“That’s how much a Kiseichū class battleship costs to build,” Shiraori answered while slumping down into her cushion. “The RBS Riguishi isn’t real.”

Both of them sat in silence. In near awe at the sheer audacity of this revelation. Nao was the first to break the silence, and it didn’t assuage the heavy atmosphere of the office. “Your Highness, I fear it may be worse than that.”

“How could it be worse?” Shiraori questioned. “An entire warship doesn’t exist, and it completely flew under my nose. A fucking battleship, no less.”

“My team discovered two dozen other accounts we currently believe belong to similar phony corps. We just haven’t had the time to investigate them properly yet.” Nao offered with no hesitation but a load of dread.

One by one, the albino duo went through the accounts they believed belonged to the phony corporations and matched them to ships from the Ronbun fleet. And one by one, the ships disappeared.

After hours of pouring over documents, Shiraori and Nao lay on their sides on the ground and stared at the ornate purple ceiling. “Sushi?”

“No.” Shiraori denied. “Curry?”

“Had it for lunch. Hotpot?”

“Not in the mood for that. Okonomiyaki?”

“That’d take too long. Takoyaki?”

“Oh, that sounds good.” Shiraori finally agreed. She attempted to get up but feined inability to do so. “Will you go get Nishimura? I don’t want to get up.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Nao pulled herself up off the floor and ambled over to the office door. Shiraori’s head maid was just outside the door with her eyes closed. “Nishimura-kas?”

The maid jolted awake and looked up at the all-white woman. “Yes, Minister Tomori?”

“The Empress and I would like as much Takoyaki as you can make in thirty minutes.” The minister requested.

“At once, Tomori-kama.” The maid rubbed her eyes as she walked away; checking her pocket watch, she shocked herself. “Two AM? How bad is it getting, Shiraori?” She asked herself.

Nao returned to the cold floor next to her superior. “She’s making it.”

“With my favorite sauce?” Shiraori asked, looking over at Nao.

Nao scrunched her eyebrows. “I didn’t ask, but I’d assume so.”

“Good point,” Shiraori confirmed and finally sat up. “It’s Yuu; I’m sure she’ll get it right.”

Nao looked over and met Shiraori’s eye with a raised eyebrow. “Yuu? Huh?”

“Oh, shut up.” Shiraori rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the ceiling. “I’m exhausted.”

“Maybe I should reopen that investigation into the death of your husband.” Nao teased.

“I”m going to hit you.” Shiraori’s voice was firm but light and came with a groan.

“I’m just saying ‘Yuu’ was never on my list of suspects.” She carefully prodded the Empress in the ribs.

“Wait, she wasn’t?” She asked in genuine confusion.

Nao stopped laughing and took on a slightly more serious tone. “No, she was.” She quickly brought back her joking tone. “But we exonerated her because she loved you too much to hurt you like that.”

“Nao!” Shiraori shouted and returned the earlier jab with a punch in the arm.

Her belly was almost in pain from laughter. Nao kept up the bit. “I’m joking!” She paused just a moment. “I know you killed him.”

Three more times, Shiraori punched Nao in quick succession. “You’re gonna be next if you keep this up.”

“Ow ow ow!” Nao shouted. “I’m sorry!!” The older woman rubbed her arm.

The door to the office opened, and the head maid Nishimura entered with a platter of at least fifty individual fried balls of Takoyaki. Though she almost dropped them seeing the two women on the floor. “What happened?! Are you two alright?”

Shiraori pulled herself off the floor and gave a half-hearted smile. “We’re fine. It’s just been a long night.”

“You’ve been in here for hours, so I’d say that’s accurate.” Nishimura sighed slightly from relief and set the platter on the Empress’s desk. “Enjoy your dinner, Your Highness. Minister.” The maid bowed before making her exit.

Both of the exhausted women met at the desk and began stuffing the fried food into their mouths, dipping them in Nishimura’s special sauce. “At some point, we should probably talk about it.” Shiraori offered.

“About the fact that a fleet of thirty warships just went up in smoke? Or that those warships are likely being used as the personal bank account of an army of traitors?” Nao asked, stuffing more food into her face.

“Both, Nao.” Shiraori rolled her eyes and pointed at her with a takoyaki.

“We could wait until the investigation regarding Hinamoto-kas to turn something up. That could take a while, though.” Nao said a bit hesitantly.

“Why’s that?”

“There’s no saying when the traitors will make contact with her next. That’s if they don’t just write her off completely.”

“Doesn’t exactly sound promising, Nao.”

“Well, we could launch a deep probe into all of these accounts. Follow the money all the way to the source. Someone moved that money from fleet assets into these phony accounts.”

“Any reason not to do that?” Shiraori asked between bites.

Nao juggled her head back and forth. “Could tip off whoever’s at the head of this thing. Let them know we’re onto them. It could change their tactics, make them go into hiding to act at a later date, or if they’re flighty amateurs, it could force them to act now. Maybe even commit a massive act of terrorism in fear.”

“Another bad option. What else you got?”

“We can investigate the Ronbun Fleet. Someone moved the money from ship construction and maintenance to these accounts. Someone high up and with a lot of power turned an entire fleet to paper. That requires a significant presence in the Navy. Someone knows something.”

Shiraori paused and tried to force the migraine out of her head with her hands. “But?”

“But we ask the wrong person, and we end up with the same result as before.”

“Anything else we can do?”

“No ideas at the moment, no,” Nao confirmed without hesitation, stuffing yet another fried ball into her mouth.

“Great, so no good options.” Shiraori slammed her head into the table. Tilting her head up, she looked into her Minister’s eyes. “Nao, this is a hundred billion Yairen conspiracy. What the fuck do we do?”

[Sophie]

“You did what?!” Reiri Kamura’s usually calm demeanor was gone as she demanded answers from her subordinate.

The freezing rain and the whistling wind near the docks forced Yuumo Ryuuja to shout in response. “I made a judgment call!” Her voice barely carried over the battering of raindrops on Kamura’s coat. “If I had arrested them then and there, all we’d have are some low-level goons. Now at the very least, we have one of their bases of operations!” She gestured to the Kobayashi shipyards’ warehouse.

“Yua Hinamoto is a civilian!” Kamura shouted back between handing out orders to the small army of enforcement officers waiting for her word. “One we promised to protect! You fed her to traitors on a hunch, Ryuuja-kas!”

“More than a hunch!” Ryuuja shouted back as another car of officers arrived and stood by for orders. “You and I both know this is more than document fraud! Hinamoto-kas was battered with a weapon for being questioned and released by us!”

“Get back in the car, close off all roads that lead away from here.” Kamura was ordering the newly arrived officers before responding to her direct subordinate. “I’ll play with your theory Ryuuja-kas, but if that girl dies, it is on your head.”

Despite the rain bettering her face, Ryuuja matched her superior officer’s gaze perfectly, only blinking to wash away the water that assaulted her. “I accept that. I believe this was the right move, and I will stand by that at trial if I must.”

“You’ve never made a stand like that, Ryuuja-kas.” Kamura stared at her steely demeanor. “Alright. Let’s play this out. What’s the plan?”

“Once our girls have all the roads closed off, we raid that munitions warehouse from every entrance we can find. You shut down the subway already, right?” Once her superior nodded, she continued. “We need to do this now. The longer we wait, the higher chance the traitors inside get the sense that something’s up.”

“Alright!” Kamura began to bark orders at everyone in earshot. “Everybody mount up. We are dealing with traitors here; they’re likely to fight back because they know what's on the other end of capture.”

Less than a half hour later, the massive team of Internal Security officers was ready. Every road from the warehouse had been blocked off within a five-kilometer radius. Classically trained markswomen had their rifles trained on every exit from the fenced-off warehouse. The breaching officers were equipped with straight-pull rifles, shotguns, and handguns. While the rules of engagement were loose when dealing with traitors, no one was itchy to pull the trigger in a warehouse full of munitions.

Inside, the walls were lined with torpedoes, battleship shells, cruiser shells, destroyer shells, and even personal munitions, most of the smaller munitions wrapped in heavy wooden crates and pallets stacked upon one another. The team breached the doors as simultaneously as possible, including the warehouse’s main entrance. They didn’t bother with being quiet; they loudly announced their presence, relying on their overwhelming force to convince anyone inside to surrender.

Ryuuja was among the team breaching the warehouse's main door. The two most muscular women lifted the roll-up sheet door launching it into the ceiling. Armed with a Kenju Type Fourteen handgun, she immediately began shouting as she entered. Her and about fifty other agents. “Internal Security! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately!”

“RUN!” The only non-IS voice came from somewhere within until moments later, a single Kumo poked her head out from behind a six-rack of torpedoes and opened fire. Four quick shots rang out from her position bringing down an officer. Everyone hesitated to fire back at first, fearing that a single errant round would detonate a warhead, killing everyone involved except for the now-wounded officer’s partner. In a rage, the Kumo immediately began to climb upon the walls to garner a vantage point over the covered assailant. From a ninety-degree angle on the wall, the officer aimed her rifle down and took a single shot that penetrated the shooter’s skull.

On her instinct, Ryuuja began to sprint as she heard something metal slam after the shooting stopped. Below the now-dead traitor was a hatch. One that Ryuuja yanked open after shoving aside the corpse. It revealed a dark tunnel filled with pipes and wiring, so cramped a Kumo could barely fit inside. She and a handful of Kumo began making their way down the hall.

Kamura and the rest of the officers continued their sweep of the warehouse until Kamura came upon a locked door. Inside were three Kumo, all bearing weapons, and a very harshly battered Yua Hinamoto. Two of the armed Kumo flipped over a table, and another stood behind Yua, placing the barrel of her pistol against the restrained civilian’s head. “Get the fuck out of here!” The woman screamed, “or she dies.”

Kamura, with her rifle drawn and aimed, spoke calmly. “Drop them, now. We have you completely surrounded. There is no way out for you. If you do anything to that woman, I promise the rest of your life will be an unimaginable hell that will never end. If you let her go and come peacefully, I will personally ensure you are treated fairly. I will tell the prosecutor’s office that you complied, and you will be let off as easily as possible.”

All the women in the room hesitated. The three all shared looks, the lack of response prompted Kamura to continue. “If you kill her, I won’t stop with you. I will go after your families, your friends, everyone you know. There are a hundred agents here. You either come out with me right now, or all of you go out in body bags.”

Yua seemed more statue than Kumo: her skin had become pale as snow, her eyes squeezed shut, and her head turned as the gun steel of the pistol pressed into her head. Tears, in running trails that flowed over her cheeks and dripped down her chin, flowed freely, the light of the Internal Security’s lamps illuminating the hand that held her head back by the hair.

After another moment’s consideration, one of the women behind the tables spoke. “Yoshida-kama?! What are you doing? Shoot her!”

The woman, now identified as Yoshida, had the cold steel barrel of her pistol pressed against Yua’s skull and stared with her eyes twitching at the lead Internal Security officer. Yua’s tear-stricken face pleaded with Kamura; her mascara had run so much she looked like a panda. Awful bruises and splotches of blood despoiled any sense of beauty. Her mouth was gagged, leaving her breaths strained; her hands trembled in their binds, reddened and blistered where she had struggled against the rope.

Kamura looked into the assailant's eyes before she met Yua’s gaze. ‘Duck.’ Her lips mouthed, causing Yua’s eyes to turn into dinner plates. For a split second, Kamura feared that Yua had not understood or seen her message, but in that moment, Yua suddenly, with all the strength in her small, beaten body, yanked forward with a muffled scream, her hair slipping from the grasp of her captor from the sudden movement. In the blink of an eye, Yua fell out of Kamura’s rifle sights, and a loud bang deafened the room.

Yoshida slumped to the ground as her brain ceased sending instructions to the rest of her body, her eyes rolling as the force of the bullet caused her whole body to tense, stumble, and then finally, without grace, slump forwards upon the floor.

“You mother fuckers!” The same voice as earlier screamed as the owner rose from the table and began shooting. She was answered in turn by a hail of bullets from the guns of the Internal Security officers, who left her suppressed and unable to stay out of cover for long.

The gunwoman’s bullets were hasty, and wildly aimed, and though she managed to down an officer with a lucky hit, she only got off three shots before Kamura could swing her rifle and nail her in the arm with a single, well-placed pull of the trigger. From behind the other table, hands shot up. “FUCK! I surrender!” The new voice screamed. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Coward.” The now defeated voice spoke out as the life slowly drained from her voice, clutching the massive wound opened in her arm. “They’ll kill you anyway.”

“You!” Kamura shouted at the surrendering Kumo. “Is there anyone else here?”

“No!” She responded, terror plaguing both her face and voice. “We’re it.”

The lead officer turned to one of her fellows and barked out an order. “Get the paramedics in here. I want that bitch alive.” The officer affirmed before sprinting out of the room. Two other officers moved to capture the dropped and surrendered weapons. Meanwhile, Kamura began to remove Yua’s restraints.

As soon as Kamura freed her mouth and arms, Yua collapsed onto the floor and began vomiting from the stress. “It’s okay. You’re safe now, Nishimoto-kan.” Kamura tried to comfort her while rubbing her back. “I promise you’re safe.” She spoke over Yua’s open weeping.

With what little composure she could garner, Yua lifted herself off the floor and hugged Kamura with all her strength. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Was all she could bring herself to say.

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong.” Kamura returned the hug, still rubbing the woman’s back.

“I told them everything,” Yua said between gasps for air while she sobbed. “They were going to kill my daughter.”

“Kamura-kama?” One of the arresting officers spoke up. “You need to see this.” She said with a tremble as she handed something over to her.

While still comforting Yua, she took the paper identifying the now-dead woman. “Captain Asuka Yoshida.”

“She’s a naval officer, ma’am.”

Ryuuja and her team of three had finally reached the other end of what she assumed was some sort of maintenance tunnel repurposed as an escape route. An old steel door blocked the rest of the progress until one of her officers handed her a crowbar, and she managed to pry it open.

Now free, it opened up into a much larger underground room. It had clearly gone years without any form of care or repair. It was a massive underground hallway. No, it was the metro. “Fuck.” Ryuuja’s voice came out as the rest of her team pulled themselves into the tunnel.

“Where are we, Ma’am?” One asked.

“An out-of-commission metro tunnel. It was closed off after the new safety standards were introduced.” Ryuuja answered while flicking on her flashlight. It was filled with dust; bricks had crumbled all around, covering the old rails. “These tunnels were deemed too risky to repair.”

“Are we sure anyone-” the sudden hail of gunfire echoing towards them cut off the officer’s voice. With her pistol, Ryuuja returned fire in the direction she believed it was coming from as she sprinted toward a support pillar for cover.

“Keep her pinned down!” Ryuuja barked, allowing the other officers to draw their rifles once more.

Slow and repeating suppressing fire prevented the assailant from opening up again with any form of accuracy. Instead, she poked her hand around the corner and pulled the trigger as much as possible. “Eight pillars down!” One of the officers shouted between shots. “Advance!”

On the officer's word, Ryuuja broke cover and slowly began walking forward. Her pistol rang out in slow controlled shots compared to the assailant's rapid-fire bursts. She managed to advance four pillars before her officers called out that they were reloading. She again took cover to do the same.

Once the suppressing fire began again, she continued the advance. “Surrender now! Or face the consequences!” She shouted between her shots, thankful that the hail of fire from the enemy had stopped. After taking one last stop to reload, Ryuuja swung around the pillar the gunfire originated from. There was no one. Only a locked door that, once pried open, revealed a maze of hallways that led further into the decrepit metro.

The woman was lost. All they had to go on was her race: an orchard orb weaver.

[Sophie]

“Good morning Princess Reito.” The woman spoke as she bowed. Even at a full bend, she was still taller than the still-growing teenager.

Typically Reito Doku Kumo was thrilled to welcome one of her mother’s ministers into her home as it meant she got to be included in an important meeting. However, as of late, whenever the Minister of Enforcement and Security visited, her mother got cagey and completely iced her out. “Good morning, Minister Tomori.” Reito’s defeated voice was less than welcoming. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Nao Tomori squinted an eye at the Princess. “I have a meeting with the Empress. May I come in?” She asked, checking over her shoulder, her eyes locking on every guard and maid she could see for at least a second.

“Of course, Minister,” Reito spoke while opening the door wider and inviting her in. “You know where she is.” The Princess spoke dismissively to her in a way that none but the Empress and herself could ever dare dream of. “I have a class I need to attend.” She waved as she walked down a hallway opposite the direction of her mother’s office.

Tomori watched as the Princess disappeared down the labyrinth of hallways that made up the palace. A small sigh was all the minister could muster before turning away and heading for the Empress. The head maid Nishimura stood waiting outside the office doors and welcomed Nao Tomori in.

Nao was quick to catch the Empress up to speed on the raid on the Kobayashi Shipyards’ warehouse. “Three Captains and a Commander?” Shiraori confirmed with a sigh. “What is going on, Tomori-kas?”

“That’s not all. Another woman, who we believe to be the leader of at least this group of five, managed to escape into a decrepit subway tunnel. Some agents exchanged fire with her before she disappeared into a maze of maintenance tunnels.” Nao continued.

“Do we know who she is?” Shiraori asked, reading over the detailed reports provided by Nao’s agents. “Any idea at all?”

“We’ve got a description. She’s an Orchard Orb Weaver. Around Seven foot eight. Curly brown hair.” Nao read directly from Yuumo Ryuuja’s report. “She was wearing an expensive suit, and like the other assailants, she likely had a naval officer’s handgun that she used to exchange fire with my officers.”

“Another officer from the battlefleet?” Shiraori asked to confirm, taking the report to review for herself.

“Most likely,” Nao confirmed. “We’ve interrogated one of the officers we captured but getting anything substantial out of her has been a challenge. She’s definitely low ranking in whatever organization she’s joined. Which is concerning as Commander Yūko Suzuki is the captain of a Kawakaze class Hunter Killer.”

“What about the other?” Shiraori prodded.

Nao pursed her lips before answering. “She’s still in the IS hospital. The doctors had to amputate her arm, and she hasn’t woken up from the anesthesia yet.”

Shiraori sighed and lined up the dossiers on each of the killed and captured officers. “There’s gotta be some kind of connection here. Haven’t you found anything that can help us?”

“There is… something.” Minister Tomori confirmed. “But I didn’t want to press my girls to investigate it yet.”

Shiraori recoiled a bit and stared at her Minister. “Why not?”

“Commander Suzuki put in a transfer for command of a Hunter Killer in the Ronbun fleet.” Shiraori shared a knowing look upon hearing the name of the shadow fleet. “The same fleet that all three of the other officers are currently serving in.”

The Empress squinted her eyes as her eyes scanned between the documents before speaking again. “Who’s the commanding officer of the Ronbun fleet?”

After shuffling some papers out of a different folder, Nao answered, “Vice-Admiral Akiko Isobe. We’re already following her under the guise of a hoarding investigation. Why?”

“What race is she?” Shiraori questioned

“I had the same thought, but she’s an Orange Legged Swift,” Nao answered while bouncing her head back and forth.

“Damn it.” Shiraori slammed a fist on the table. After a moment more thinking, she rubbed her temple before coming up with a new idea. “What about her XO?”

Nao again searched through more documents. “Rear Admiral Erina Taira. Only promoted after her transfer to the Ronbun fleet.”

“Race?” Shiraori again prodded.

Nao looked through the document before pausing. “Orchard Orb Weaver.”

“So we got her?” Shiraori smiled. “Is that enough to bring her in?”

Nao bit her lip. “Yes…” The hesitation was palpable in her voice.

Shiraori cocked an eyebrow. “Why does it sound like you don’t want to?”

“I’m concerned,” Nao confessed. “We both know this is a massive conspiracy. I’m worried we’re acting too quickly. Yua Hinamoto told them we released her to investigate who was using her further. We raided a warehouse of a shipyard that’s supplying ghost munitions to a shadow fleet. The bandaid of hoarding investigations isn’t going to hide our intentions from the traitors. They’re clearly smart, well-funded, and connected. If we keep pressing at the rate we do, they might do something desperate.”

“So what do you suggest we do?!” She almost shouted. “Sit around and let them prepare? Gather more allies and resources. Give them time to enact whatever plans they have.”

“We need to gather more evidence. We need to know how deep this goes.” Nao pleaded. “What if this isn’t just a few rogue Admirals trying to secure more power for the navy?”

“Even if that’s the case, we still need to act now.” Shiraori remained firm. “These people have spirits know how many billions of yairen and are gaining millions more every month from my damn pocket. From the pockets of my people. We need to dismantle this operation now. Every woman we arrest hinders these traitors' ability to act. Especially high power ones like the Vice and Rear Admiral.”

“If we do that, we force them to act in retaliation.” Nao snapped back. “We need to cut them off at the head. A traitor with no head cannot think. And to do that, we need to find out who the head is.”

“Is it not Vice Admiral Isobe? The literal head of the shadow fleet?” Shiraori demanded. “You and I personally vet every officer promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral and higher. They have personal Internal Security details selected by you and reviewed by you every quarter. I refuse to believe that you have let more than a handful slip through the cracks. Unless you happen to be the most incompetent Minister ever hired by an Empress.”

“Shirry…” Nao used a name she hadn’t since childhood. “We’ve never dealt with anything like this. I’m scared.”

“Nao…” Shiraori trailed off. She put her hand on her old friend’s shoulder. “You’ve protected the people of Kumosenkan and me from unending threats for the better part of twenty years. You foiled two assassination plots against me and another against my daughter. Nao, you caught well over thirty spies personally and ended the Aundui Yio insurrection in Elenria. There is no one I’d trust more to handle this.”

“It's never been our own people. Never an officer in our military, our navy. Not to this extent.” She looked into the Empress’s eyes, showing the fear she felt deep in her soul. “They shot at us. At our people. Well-known and respected Captains. These aren’t ensigns and lieutenants trying to line their pockets. They’re experienced commanding officers and Admirals knowingly committing treason for a motive we don’t even know. But it's strong enough to kill women working directly for you.”

Shiraori removed her compassionate face and became firm. “Tomori-kas, I need you to focus. If everything you’ve told me so far is true, then whoever is behind this knows we’re after them; we need to act now. We’ve already shown our hand by letting that Hinamoto woman go. The clock has started, and we don’t know how much time is left on it.”

Nao searched the Empress’s eyes desperately. “Okay.” She took a few shallow breaths. “Okay, okay okay okay. First, we need to move Yua Hinamoto and her family. The traitors know her and have a score to settle. They directly threatened to hurt her daughter.”

“Very well. What do you suggest? Where should we move her?” Shiraori asked.

“I don’t know how far this conspiracy spans, but I don’t think it extends to Elenria. I’d like to send them there. Ideally, to Kelsun as far away from the navy as we can get her.” Nao suggested.

“Very well. You told me the daughter is smart, right? In case she becomes some kind of famous scientist someday, we should change their names. Give them completely new identities and backgrounds.”

Nao nodded, reaching for stationary and starting to write out new documents for her bureaucrats to handle. Any traces of old names and identities would need to be wiped from the records, and those who had been in contact with them needed to be provided cover stories so there would be no suspicion as to their disappearance.

“I’d also like to give them some money,” Nao added. “Yua put her life on the line for us after she was told we would protect her. She and her family deserve to live a decent life in Elenria.”

“Very well. I’ll authorize up to twenty million Yairen.” Shiraori paused for a moment in consideration. “...I’d also like to write her a thank you letter for her service to me despite never pledging to do so.”

“I’m certain she would appreciate that a lot. I’ll also backlog her daughter’s enrolment at the Black Citadel Imperial University in Kelsun to raise fewer eyebrows should anyone decide to check.”

“With that handled, Tomori-kas, What is our next move in our assault on the traitors?”

Nao looked at the ever-growing pile of documents on the Empress’s desk, and even she felt overwhelmed. “I guess we have a few options. My first idea is to declare the officers killed and captured in the raid as accessories to Countess Kobayashi in hoarding wealth. Assign new Captains we know for certain are loyal to you to replace them under Vice Admiral Isobe. Have them report on anything they may find.”

“That would be a great plan.” Shiraori agreed with a frown. “If Isobe hadn’t already been tipped off about our investigation. If paperwork showed up that I personally appointed the transfer of Captains to the ghost fleet, they would certainly be rejected by the Admiral.”

“She can do that?” Nao asked with a cocked brow. “Just override your direct orders?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Shiraori confirmed. “Effective cohesion between a commanding officer and subordinate is a necessity for ideal battle conditions, and so any Admiral may reject proposed transfers if they believe they won’t work well together.”

“Damn it.” Nao pinched the bridge of her nose in contemplation. “Alright. We need to attack this from a different angle, then.”

“Why not just arrest Admirals Isobe and Taira? We have well more than enough reasonable suspicion to bring them up on charges.” Shiraori demanded.

“We do.” The Minister confirmed. “But with as much money as is involved, they likely have a small army of loyal followers. Not to mention they both live on a highly secure base. I have to imagine that most of the base's guard is on their payroll. If we tried to arrest them, it could turn into a major incident that would make Kumosenkan look weak on the global stage.”

“Fuck.” Shiraori swore. Both of them took a while to think before the Empress came up with a new idea. “What about Admiral Sora Akame? Isobe-kas reports to her. Do you think we can trust her?”

“I don’t have her file on me,” Nao answered, “but as far as I remember, she’s an ideal Admiral. Clean but not too clean. Has a conviction for public intoxication and a single charge of harassment that was later dropped. She was an officer in the Hawaii war and afterward has lived a meritorious service that earned her way to Admiral.”

“Do you think we can trust her?” Shiraori stared into the Minister’s soul, hoping for a concrete answer.

Nao met the gaze with hesitance and uncertainty. “I don’t know. On paper, my answer should be yes.” Nao paused and just shook her head a couple of times with her lips pursed. “But my gut is fighting me. I know Admiral Akame has a lot of Admirals to oversee, but she has allowed the entire Ronbun fleet to fly under her nose.”

“So have we, Nao.” The Empress pointed out.

“I’m not in the navy, and you have our entire Empire to manage. Not just a handful of officers.” She pushed back.

“Then what else should we do, Nao?” Shiraori pressed. “We can’t handle it externally. We can’t handle it internally from the bottom up. So our only option is top-down.” The Empress clenched her hands, feeling her nails bite into her palms.

Helplessness was not a word that an Empress of Kumosenkan should entertain, let alone feel. But that this situation could have been so severe, so deep, and that she, the Empress, a God among her people, did not have absolute mastery of the situation…

Nao met her eyes, irises filled with a grim determination, but she blinked and looked to the floor. So much relied upon presumption and so much upon guesswork. Their case to rely on the Admiral was built atop a house of cards, but even as her subconscious tore at her for making such a dangerous decision, she sighed and admitted that even she could not know all.

“I know you’re right, Shiraori-kama. I just don’t like it.”

[Sophie]

“Good evening Admiral Akame.” Shiraori’s voice was steady, even, and guarded as she spoke with someone her Minister of enforcement and security had directly warned her against looping in.

“Oh, please!” The Admiral waved a hand and picked up her wine glass, taking a sip of the Amalian red. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness. It’s not often one gets a personal invitation to the Palace.” The woman at the other end of the table was clearly confident and calm. “I haven’t been here since Reito’s 15th birthday. She is growing into quite the fine young lady now.”

Something about the timbre of the Admiral’s voice while talking about Reito made Shiraori’s skin crawl. Of course, she didn’t react to her newfound discomfort and instead smiled. “Yes, she is my pride and joy. She quite appreciated your gift; she is very into model building these days. Having the flagship of the Kogo Heika fleet above her bed has made her quite happy.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.” The Admiral cooed while taking another sip of wine. “I was worried, considering the level of extravagance that she is used to,” She gestured about the meeting room’s decor. “That something as simple as a model wouldn’t interest her.”

“I assure you, Princess Reito has a wide list of interests befitting of a future Empress.” The Empress continued with her enduring tone.

The Admiral laughed. “I’ve never doubted that; she is your daughter, after all.” The moment she finished her glass of wine, Nishimura entered the room and poured them both more before quickly departing. “Now that’s a maid. I wish mine were half as competent as she.”

Shiraori had to resist scowling at how well the Admiral could delay the actual beginning of the meeting. “I am sure she would appreciate the compliment, Admiral. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to the crux of the reason I invited you here.” She allowed just a drop of ice into her voice to undercut any softness the words carried.

“Of course, of course.” The Admiral nodded. “Please, go ahead, Shiraori-kama.”

“I want to discuss one of your subordinates.” Shiraori stared into the Admiral’s eyes carefully as she prepared to name a known traitor. “Vice Admiral Akiko Isobe.”

Akame’s eye twitched perhaps a single millimeter. “Oh? Is there something wrong with the Vice Admiral? Nothing has come up in her annual reviews.”

“Minister Tomori and I have reason to believe Isobe-kas is acting in a manner incongruent with her duty to myself and the people of Kumosenkan. I’d like you to dedicate a non-insignificant number of resources to investigating her and any crimes she may have already or may continually be committing. I’d like your report within a month.” The Empress spoke carefully, keeping her eyes on the woman before her.

The Admiral openly recoiled. “Isn’t this a matter for Internal Security? Why are you involving me?”

The Empress’s eyes narrowed. “Are you questioning me? Admiral? Internal security is already investigating the matter. I believe that an investigation from your end would bear more fruit than one starting from the outside.”

The woman put her hands up in defense. “Not questioning, Your Highness. Your reasoning is fair, and I will start my investigation immediately. Is there anything else I should aid you with?”

“That is all, Admiral.”

[Sophie]

“Tomori-kas, this had better be a matter of fucking life or death.” The Empress’s voice was filled with anger, and to the keen observer, remorse.

Now that the two women had retreated to the sanctuary of Shiraori’s office, Minister Nao Tomori could speak her mind openly. “I assure you it is. I would not interrupt you and your daughter’s day otherwise.” Nao took a moment to steady her breath before continuing. “You are meeting again with Admiral Sora Akame tomorrow, yes?”

“You know I am, Tomori-kas.” The Empress huffed indignantly. “What of it?”

“I think we bet on the wrong taratect here.” Nao sputtered nervously. “My people flagged every bank account, even tangentially related to the ghost fleet. The day after you met with her, there was immense activity across almost every account.”

“What does that mean?” Her eyes widened in horror as she connected the dots herself. “Admiral Akame is… she’s a part of this ring of traitors?!”

“Yes,” Nao spoke, her voice's timbre completely eroding with panic.

Shiraroi punched her antique globe, knocking it to the floor and breaking it into pieces. “FUCK!” She slammed a hand down onto her desk. Her hair hung down, covering her face and the burning hot tears that welled. She stifled them and ran her hand through her hair as she brought her eyes to meet Nao’s. “How could you let this happen?” Her voice was quiet but filled with rage. “It is your fucking job to keep tabs on every Admiral in the Navy and every general in the army. How could it fly under your nose that a full fledged Admiral is a damn traitor.”

“I…” Nao was frozen as the Empress glared daggers into her soul. “I have no excuses, Your Highness. I failed you.” She got on her fore knees and kept her head low. “I will tender my resignation immediately. I am certain you have someone in mind to take my place.”

“Get up.” The Empress ordered. “You fucked this up. It is your job to fix it. You don’t get to abandon your duty now that it has gotten challenging.”

Nao stood and faced the Empress. “You still trust me to handle this.”

“There is no one I trust more, Nao. Especially now. I have no clue who I can trust aside from you.” The Empress’s voice softened a tone. “What else do you have?”

“I have a lot more. Your Highness.” Nao continued. “Several accounts from the ghost fleet deposited into this account here. All money that whoever deposited into this account was only there for maybe half a minute. It immediately flowed out into several accounts, and I’m talking at least two dozen. Half belong to known and monitored criminals; the other half are suspected criminals.”

“Criminals? Like who?” The Empress prodded, though her eyes locked into the single account. One that until now had not been involved. The number. It irked in the back of her mind.

Nao pulled out several dossiers. “All of them are affiliated with the Red Dragon crime syndicate.”

“Kumo supremacists?” The Empress recoiled in confusion. “Don’t they usually act as if they’re acting in my best interest? Why are they now siding with traitors?!”

“That’s been their MO until now,” Nao confirmed.

“Until now?” Shiraori pushed. “Have they acted already?”

“I can’t be certain all of them have. Though last night my people arrested a dozen Red Dragon criminals. All of whom for murder or attempted murder. Seven naval officers and several bureaucrats.”

Shiraori was completely taken aback. She struggled to breathe for a moment. “This needs to be covered up. Make it look like suicides, muggings gone wrong, whatever you must do.”

“The Ministry of the Interior is already on top of that, Your Highness,” Nao confirmed. “The Red Dragon’s change in heart is concerning. Before, what they were doing was heinous, but it was at least an attempt to further your agenda. Now, we have no clue what they’re doing.”

“The traitors must have convinced them that my actions are no longer in the best interest of the Kumo people,” Shiraori answered. “It must be because of whoever is in control of this account. They must have a lot of power and perception as a leader of Kumo. Potentially even a hero.”

“Kure.” Nao’s voice was meek and distant.

“What?” Shiraori’s ice returned as her leftmost eye twitched.

“The account.” Nao began flipping through files. “One of my people flagged it as potentially associated with Minister Kure. I dismissed that because we’ve been operating as if she was outside this ring. That someone inside the ring was trying to prop her up or even use her as a fall girl. But Kure. She could sway the Red Dragons, hide entire fleets from even you, convince hundreds if not thousands of sailors to commit open treason.”

“Why didn’t you bring this to me earlier?!” Shiraori shouted. “I’ve never fucking trusted Kure. Not a single day in my spirit damned life!”

“I… I thought because she was your Minister, you trusted her. I, of course, have my details follow her every move, but nothing suspicious has ever come up. I thought it would be questioning your judgment to accuse her of something as heinous as running a ring of treason.” Nao recoiled into a defensive pose.

“It is your job to question me if it is for the sake of my and Kumosenkan’s safety, Nao!” Again she punched her desk. “FUCK! Fuck Kure. Self-entitled bitch.”

“Excuse my language, but if you never trusted her, why on Ouhiri is she your minister?!” Nao begged.

“She was a hero in Hawaii. Claimed personal responsibility for several key naval victories, backed up by other Admirals who fought there. She took a battleship left for dead and used it to turn the tide of the battle for Oahu. My mother forced her into my lap when she handed me the reigns. I couldn’t remove her after that cunt died without committing to a massive officer purge.”

Nao was horrified for a multitude of reasons. “Just how many Admirals were loyal to Kure?”

“Are.” Shiraori corrected. “And it’s most of them.”

“I’m canceling your meeting with Admiral Akame. Only the living stars know what she will do if things are this bad.”

“You can’t,” Shiraori ordered. “Not now.”

“Are you lost in the Realm of Madness?!” Nao shouted, forgetting for just a moment who she was speaking with. “If this ring of traitors goes all the way to Kure, and the Admirals are as loyal as you say. There’s no telling what she might do.”

“We need her. If she’s going to act, then we can be ready to catch her in the act. Get her to confess, own up to Kure’s little ring.” Shiraori explained. “Even if we didn’t need her, we can’t call it off now. She likely knows what we’re up to, and canceling could get her or Kure to act even more erratically.”

“Shirry…” Nao dropped the pretense of professionalism owed to the Empress and addressed her as a childhood friend. “What if she kills you? Reito is only fifteen. She’s not ready to take on your responsibilities. She still has so much to learn.”

“Nao, Nao!” Shiraori almost shouted as she placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “She isn’t going to kill me. Not even someone like Kure would make a move like that. Assassinating a sitting Empress in an attempted coup would never end well for her. The people would reject her. Without the people, you have no power. At least half the Admiralty would reject a move like that.”

“How can you be so sure?” Nao pushed. “It's your life that is on the line here.”

“My ancestors are watching over me. Endless generations of Empresses. My heart is sure. I won’t die tomorrow.”

“Shirry…” Nao let tears leak from her eyes without bothering to wipe them away. “Please don’t die.”

Shiraori hugged her friend in a calm moment and held her head close to her chest. The Kumo’s heart beat calmly. Once a second. “I trust you. Now you trust me.”

[Sophie]

The Empress’s office was hot, even by human standards. Amid the hot summer, the staff would normally crank the expensive air conditioner to its max. However, Shiraori intentionally left it off. She wanted to see her sweat. Having had servants coat her in an antiperspirant beforehand, she herself wouldn’t sweat a drop.

The large mahogany doors swung open with a creak the entire palace could hear. The two were alone; the Empress had made sure of that. She sat at her desk and did not stand to acknowledge the visitor's entrance. Instead, she looked up with naught a trace of emotion crossing her face.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” The Admiral bowed deeply, her voice cocksure, almost cheery, as she sat before the Empress. However, lounging would be a more accurate descriptor of the Admiral’s posture. She reached out as if to grab a glass but found nothing. “What, no wine?”

“No.” A cold, monotone voice came from the Empress. Her posture was prim and proper as she glared into the Admiral. “Where is your report on Vice Admiral Isobe?”

“Oooh, my.” The Admiral forced a laugh before handing over a manilla folder. “Here you are, Empress Shiraori.”

Shiraori took the file and skimmed through it, looking for keywords. She found no mention of a fake fleet, no mention of treason, and no mention of embezzling. The Empress threw the entire file into the Admiral’s chest, who barely caught it. Papers scattered everywhere. “This is filled with bullshit. You did no investigation.”

The Admiral had to stifle a grin before she responded. “How can you say that? You barely looked at it. This is a very comprehensive report!” She tried to sound offended, but it didn’t cross. “Everything about the Admiral is in this document.”

“Did you even bother to inspect her fleet? Even a single ship?” Shiraori couldn’t stop her voice from becoming heated.

“Of course I did!” Akame protested. “Every single one.”

“Then surely you can tell me the status of RBS Riguishi.” She demanded. “How is she?”

Akame stumbled. She looked away and up to the right. Her lip trembled a bit as she spoke. “S- she’s still undergoing repairs. H- her rudder jammed during her last exercise.”

“Really?” Shiraori pressed. “Last report, I read a propeller blade snapped off screw three.”

Sweat dripped from Akame’s forehead and onto the floor. Her eyes darted around for a moment, but the timbre of her voice remained steady. "Well, there is a lot wrong with that ship. So much that sailors murmur that she may be cursed.”

“Then we should decommission her. I have no time for cursed ships.” Shiraori continued to spread ice as she spoke.

“Surely you don’t believe in such things?” Akame forced a chuckle out.

“Curses are quite real, I assure you. Perhaps the living stars have deemed Riguishi unfit for service in the Royal Battle Fleet and are trying to send you a message.” She folded her fingers together and leaned forward.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s the case. I have a good rapport with my ancestors. They would inform me in a more direct manner that didn’t cause sailors such unnecessary heartache.” Akame dismissed with a smile that would fit well on a politician.

“It seems the entire fleet is cursed,” Shiraori continued darkly. She turned her back and retrieved an incredibly thick folder from her file cabinet. It impacted upon the table with a mighty thunk, enough to make Akame recoil slightly. “These are the repair requests made by the Ronbun Fleet in the past year. For comparison-” She drew another folder, less than a tenth in size. “-These are the repair requests made by the Kogo Heika fleet in the same period. Kogo Heika is well over three times the size of Ronbun.”

“My, that is quite disproportionate. Maybe you’re right, and the fleet is simply cursed.” She spoke in a completely dismissive tone. “Nothing really to be done in that case, then.”

“Other than scrapping the fleet entirely,” Shiraori spoke, watching the Admiral closely. “Women and all.”

“No!” Akame almost lurched out of her sitting position. “I mean, isn’t scrapping an entire fleet because of an increased number of incidents a bit extreme? Warships are expensive to build.”

“We’ve spent more on repairing Riguishi than it cost to build her.” The Empress returned. “It's not worth it to keep her around. She’ll be worth more as scrap.”

“I still think that’s too extreme. I’ll look into the repair situation, and I will find a solution.” Akame tried to assure.

“That’s what you were supposed to fucking do already.” Shiraori pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “Enough. I can’t deal with your fucking lying anymore.”

Akame was slightly taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“I know about the Ronbun fleet. The truth behind everything, Akame-kas.” Shiraori’s face twitched in ire. “I know that fleet is a piggybank for you and a ring of traitors.”

Akame kept her facade of surprise for only a moment before devolving into laughter. “Spirits alive, you are stupid. I told her she couldn’t get away with an entire fleet of ghost ships. I gave you too much credit.”

“She? You mean Kure-kal?” The name tasted like acid as it left her lips, and she added the inflammatory honorific to quell the fire boiling inside her.

“You know it's inappropriate to address a minister with such an honorific.” Akame smiled. In a matter of seconds, she stood and drew her officer’s pistol from within her yukata. “Though it's also inappropriate to draw on the Empress.”

Shiraori stayed in her seat as her eyes twitched in anger. “You call me stupid, and you draw on the most defended woman on the planet?”

“I see no defenses.” Akame spoke with absolute confidence. “All I see is a weak old woman, pissing away the strength of Kumosenkan. Kure is strong. She believes in Kumo first. No more free lunches for third-world pissants while veterans starve in the streets.”

Her words dripped with an excited, ravenous tone.

“No more army without oversight. No more pussy footing about because you’re scared of a half-rate power of humans that Kure defeated handily.”

“If you think I haven’t confronted the UKUG because I’m scared of them, then you are stupid.” Shiraori kept the Admiral’s eyes on her face as her hand reached below her desk. With a silent click of the button, four internal security officers, including Nao Tomori, burst into the room, wielding rifles. “You and Kure are done. Admiral. Drop your weapon and surrender.”

“Stay the fuck back!” The Admiral abruptly screeched. “Any of you make a move, and I fucking shoot her.”

Frustratingly to Shiraori, the officers did hesitate. “Shoot her. Now!”

“This is bigger than you, Shiraori. Bigger than me. Bigger than all of us!” Akame’s rant was heated, and panic began to taint her voice. “My sacrifice will bring about a glorious rebirth for the Kumo people!”

“I’ll fucking do it myself.” The Empress grumbled under her breath, reached under her desk once more, and wrapped her hand around the grip of the pistol hidden there.

---

Princess Reito Doku Kumo was still awake despite the late hour.

Her eyes were wide open like they had been the previous night, and like then, her eyes were red and puffy. The half-finished Shusugiris essay stared into her soul as she tried to muster the energy to complete it.

Frustrated at her inability to write another character, she threw her pen against the wall. Instead of continuing to work and stewing in her emotions, Reito turned on her radio to the Ryukoka station. A new song, Shima No Musume, was playing. She buried herself in pillows and a mountain of covers before letting herself cry in frustration.

Instead of doing her homework, Reito elected to continue to vent in her diary. She wavered back and forth between cursing her mother and crippling regret for swearing at her. “It was supposed to be my day.” Her handwriting was erratic, and tears stained the pages. “She promised the entire day she would hang out with me. She’s been such a great mom to me my entire life, but recently I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I can’t believe I said Fuck you to her. I should go apologize.”

Reito climbed out of her nest and clicked off her radio. Her mirror revealed the disheveled state she was in. Her crying fit had completely ruined her makeup, and her hair was a rat’s nest. It only took a few minutes to wipe off her makeup and brush out her hair. Though as she brushed out the last few strands of the nest, she heard something. A loud, echoing bang. Followed by four much more booming bangs.

Adrenaline spiked through the Princess’s veins. She ran faster than she ever had in her entire life. Not a single thought guided her actions other than panic. Her body navigated the twisting hallways of the Palace. Until she came to Nishimura. “No. No! Reito, you must not go in there!” The maid tried to wrestle with the Princess but was no match for the pumped-up teen.

Reito entered the office to a horrific site. Admiral Sora Akame was face down on the floor, completely lifeless. Half of her entire head was missing, a hole was bored into her shoulder, and another was where her heart should be. Blood and viscera coated the floor and bookshelf behind her.

This wasn’t the worst of it. Reito’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Her mother: slumped back, clutching her neck, from where narrow streams of crimson merged into a river. Her porcelain skin and white dress, both tainted in an oozing, awful mess.

“No.” Reito’s voice choked on her heart. “No, no no nonononono!” Reito’s legs skittered beneath herself as she propelled herself to her mother. “What, what happened?”

Shiraori’s gaze was weak and unfocused. Her free hand shook as she ran her fingers through her daughter’s pink hair. “I’m so sorry, Reito.” Weakness polluted the Empress’s voice as she rasped out what she could. “I just wanted… to keep you safe.”

“Nono. No no no.” Reito wrapped her arms around her mom. She was still radiating the warmth and comfort that Reito had become used to. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine, right?” She looked into her mother's eyes as she held her as close as she could.

Shiraori forced a smile, but so deep was the pain that it wavered, and her own heart, in slowing beats, fell as she saw Reito’s face contort in horror. “I love you.” Her hand slowly traced down from Reito’s head to her cheek. Shiraori tried to hold on, grasp her greatest treasure, her most noble achievement, one last time, for all of time. But her muscles failed her, and as the blood began to pour freely from her neck, her hand fell from the trembling face before her.

In a quick panic, Reito pushed her hand on the open wound. “Nonono! I’m right here Mom. Don’t go.” In her mind, Reito realized this could be her last chance to say anything. This realization paralyzed her as eight rivers of tears flowed down the teen’s face. “Mom I love you. I love you so much.” Her words came out quickly between gasps for air. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. You are an amazing mother.”

A weak smile crossed Shiraori’s lips as a final tear fell down her cheeks and onto the floor. The light left her eyes, and her body became limp. “No. Nonono. Mom, you gotta stay awake. You have to.” Reito’s voice barely rose above a whisper as she shook her mom’s body. “Come on. Stay with me, Mom.” She shook harder, but Shiraori didn’t respond.

“Mom come on. Say something. Do something.” Tears continued to spill from Reito’s eyes and down onto her mother’s red-stained yukata. “I’m not ready. Mom, you said you would teach me everything first. I’m not ready yet.” Her voice choked as she desperately gasped for air between sobs. “You’re not done yet.” She collapsed her head into her mother’s shoulder. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready.” Her hand let go of the no longer spilling wound; instead, she wrapped herself around her mom. She clutched tightly to her mother’s body. All of her strength was being used to wrap herself in the fleeting warmth of her mom.

“I don’t know how to do this without you.”