Pearl’s rooms were large and had been tailored to her exact specifications with several embellishments which she felt were too extravagant after seeing the rooms of other crewmen: Drapery around the bed, a wide window, a radio, and a personal meal dispenser. She only needed for it to be dark and quiet. That was all she had requested, yet when she brought it up with Bridgers he insisted on the additions.

“We wouldn’t want you living in a hole!”

“Who is we?” she’d asked, receiving no response. Laughter, that was all.

It was evening and though Pearl seemed to have no duties on the ship aside from tinkering with the translator and meeting with Imani to tell her about what life was like on Opranov (what she was able to tell after negotiating heavily with certain government officials) - Pearl was tired. 

She had been tired for days, no matter how much she slept. It was a familiar feeling, as was the heavy dread pressing against her chest. She kept hearing laughter. Lately, it’d been following her down the Arbutus’ chrome corridors.

Olaan was sitting on her bed, just out of sight of the mounted vanity’s mirror. Another extravagance she hadn’t asked for and felt guilty for being given. Co was holding out a hand which Pearl glanced at in the reflection but didn’t take. The room was dark and Olaan was immersed in shadow.

“You can just ask me,” Pearl reminded ceir.

Olaan was quiet for several moments and Pearl waited, pressing her lips together into a thin line as Ueda had taught her. Thin line, then bloom. 

“Why do you look like that?” Olaan finally asked, the words sounding stiff.
Pearl stared at her reflection. Instead of the dark eyeshadow and blue liner which she used to mimic the shimmer of cosmetic gills, Ueda had done her face up in a Human style; accentuating the robust red blood that ran through her veins. 

“There, you look so pretty!” Ueda had smiled when she was done.

“The captain has invited me to dinner,” Pearl explained, shifting in her seat. 

Truthfully, she was not looking forward to it. Group eating spaces were loud and the captain had a tendency towards bright, shining things. Perhaps that was why Ueda had brightened her face, she was attempting to replicate the golden shine that Bridgers and Imani possessed - that Ueda herself possessed.

In comparison, Pearl was a small, dark, blot. 

Olaan made a pushing motion with ceir arm. “You aren’t covering your face?”

Pearl leaned closer to the mirror until only one large pupil was visible in the reinforced glass. 

On Opranov, it was fashionable for HoH to cover themselves in public. It was the current dominating aesthetic of the gender she’d been raised as and she’d always leaned easily into it. There was no larger reason. 

Even when she took the pronouns ‘she’ and ‘her’ from an old picture book she hadn’t felt ill-at-ease with being HoH. It wasn’t until she’d begun speaking with the Arbutus’ crewmen that she’d thought about expanding her horizons. Though she wished their phrasing hadn’t been so…

“I always thought it was kinda creepy, not being able to really see your face.”

“Can you even breathe with that on all the time?”

“Whoa, why cover all that up? You look well pretty.”

“You don’t have to dress like that anymore if you don’t want to. You’re free to do whatever you’d like here.”

The last had been the worst, said to her by the captain. It’d been just the two of them waiting for Imani and Bridgers had spoken gently, with all intended kindness, a smile on his face.

Pearl remembered how her heart had beat faster. How she’d wanted to leave. 

She turned from her reflection, staring at her hands. She couldn’t see them clearly in the darkness but Ueda had painted her nails too - a deep red that didn’t shimmer. Human Blood.

“I am a woman, not HoH.”

There was no reply.

The conversations between her and Olaan had been becoming steadily more terse to the point that Pearl was now loath to speak with ceir at all. It was all becoming fragile: Their relationship, herself, the happiness she’d first felt upon leaving Opranov. 

She’d finally become free to explore the universe and herself so why was that old feeling coming back again? That fatigue, that despair that came with being trapped. She’d left everything. She’d fought through so much red tape to come out through to the other side and now here she was - ice water creeping in through the cracks of the new home she’d found. Laughter on her heels.

“Olaan, have you been upset?” Pearl asked, slowly raising her head and looking in ceir direction. 

The Novian simply stared back at her, hands folded in ceir lap. It was disconcerting to see ceir still. When Pearl pressed her question she held her hand out, entreating. 

“Is something bothering you?”

There was a long pause before the answer came. 

“No,” Olaan said, rising from the bed and seeming to glide towards the door, ignoring the offered hand and sticking to the shadows. “I will leave you to your appointment.”

As Pearl watched Olaan’s retreating back she realized she’d wanted ceir to say yes. She’d wanted an excuse to bring up her own struggles, to suggest they leave or at least sleep in the same bed again. Olaan had been the only one by her side as a child - the weight she woke up to. 

Water came in through the cracks and she was at the door, forcing it closed as it all tried to push its way in. She didn’t want to drown again but she was too tired to keep that door shut for much longer.

How much more time…? She thought, her heart beating faster.

It was so difficult to be a Human. There were just as many rules and standards she didn’t measure up to as there were on Opranov. On Opranov, she was ignored. Here, she could feel people watching her at every moment. They watched, judged, and found her wanting. Always. No matter where she was, always, she was wanting.

Pearl let her hand fall.

She had no right to complain. She’d been the one to drag them onto the Arbutus. Bridgers and Imani were kind. There were all sorts of people onboard and almost all of them took the time to speak with her, to take an interest. She’d already seen so much more of the universe than she’d ever thought possible. If Olaan wasn’t upset then perhaps it was something about her - she was the problem. 

Her fingers were cold. She felt self-conscious, knowing she was going to leave the room with her face uncovered. She didn’t want anyone to see her but wasn’t that what she’d thought on Opranov?

They’ll know I don’t belong. I can’t handle how they stare. I don’t want to leave.
I want to disappear, she’d carved into the floorboards. I want to dissolve in the water.

Pearl was struck by a thought: What if she wasn’t happy anywhere? What if there was no place for her in the universe? Perhaps her belonging had been given up the day her mother had abandoned her - alienating her completely from either world. Any world.

The stars passed by slowly, the window modulating their speed to give the eye time to marvel at the beauty the ship was passing through. 

Olaan didn’t turn to look at her. Co didn’t move to wish her luck or farewell. It was just ceir back and ceir assortment of gills and jewels and damp skin, shimmering in what little light there was to catch.

“...I’ll bring you something back,” Pearl promised, turning to the mirror again. When she gazed at her reflection she didn’t recognize herself. 

She remembered, suddenly, the feeling of glass digging into her skin. Olaan wrestling her away from the wreckage of a mirror. She’d hated the sight of her blood, red blood. She’d hated the sight of her face, her lips - they were fat and swollen. Her skin was unlike anyone else’s, brown and shriveled. It didn’t hold the water’s sheen.

She’d wanted to destroy what was in the mirror rather than the mirror itself.

“Don’t,” Olaan said, slipping out the door. “I doubt I’ll have the stomach for it.”

I lied, Pearl thought as she let the room’s darkness wash over her - obscuring her reflection. I don’t want to disappear. I want to be erased.