“Breathe.”

The voice sounded distant and muffled, like coming from the other side of a wall. Juno couldn't breathe; her chest wouldn't move.

“In. Out.” She could hear frustration bleeding through. “You know how.”

Something warm pressed against her mouth, and air was forced into her lungs. It filled them completely, stretching them until the pressure became unbearable. Again. Another breath filled the space her body had forgotten how to fill on its own. And again.

With each breath, her chest expanded and contracted, and suddenly her body rejected everything. She convulsed, and something hot and burning burst from her throat. She couldn't stop coughing and couldn't catch her breath between the spasms.

“Again.”

Hands grabbed her and she was on her side before she could process it. More of that burning substance poured from her mouth and nose, searing everything it touched. Each subsequent breath felt like inhaling shattered glass.

She forced her eyes open for just a second. She only saw blurred shapes and dark hair. A silhouette that blocked out everything else. Then her vision swam and she had to close them again.

The voice came back. “Damn human.” Then, more steadily: “Keep breathing.”

She didn't understand what was happening or why everything hurt so much, but she clung to that voice anyway. It was the only solid thing amidst all this chaos: rough and grave, yet soft underneath. There was something about it that made her want to listen and try.

A hand pressed against her back, completely covering the space between her shoulder blades. The palm was rough, probably had calluses, and it felt really warm against her frozen skin.

“Come on, I didn't go through all that trouble just for you to give up now.”

He sounded angry. Was he angry with her? She didn't know what she had done. She didn't understand what was happening, or why his voice had that edge to it, like she'd messed something up without meaning to.

It made her want to apologize even though she didn't know what for.

Instead, she tried to focus on the weight of his hand, on its warmth, on anything that felt real.

But everything was getting heavier, the pain fading into nothing, and she was so tired. His voice kept calling her back, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold on. The warmth of his hand was the last thing she felt before darkness consumed her completely.

• • •

First, her fingers twitched and curled loosely towards the pillow. Then came awareness.

When Juno finally woke up, the first thing she noticed was how wet she was. Despite the blanket covering her, her clothes were soaked through and clung to her skin like a frozen second layer. Her hair was dripping, too, forming a pool beneath her cheek. But most of all, her body hurt.

She pushed herself up slowly, the blanket falling away from her shoulders. Her head spun and her stomach churned. Her body felt waterlogged and she could smell salt in the air; she could also hear the distant lapping of water. Above her, the dark wooden ceiling swayed, or maybe that was just her, still dizzy. No, it was the ceiling.

If her judgement was right, this had to be a boat.

She pressed a hand to her temple, trying to think, but the details slipped away whenever she tried to grasp them. Then the memory of water hit her clearly. She could feel the cold shock of it closing over her head and her lungs filling with water as she fought for air.

She tried to focus on her surroundings and forced herself to calm down. How had she got there? How was she even breathing?

Her gaze landed on something at the foot of the bed.

There it sat, its tail neatly wrapped around its paws and its violet eyes fixed on her. The moment their eyes met, understanding crashed over her. The cat. It had appeared when she was dying, offering her an impossible choice and binding her soul to escape death. But then she'd fallen into the water, and now...

"Oh, good, you're awake."

Juno froze, pressing herself back against the headboard.

“You gave me quite the scare back there, you know,” the cat continued in an almost playful tone. “Accepting my deal and then immediately trying to drown yourself? A bit dramatic, don't you think?”

The memory hit her harder now: the clock tower, the demons, Yves disappearing into that creature's mouth, her chest splitting in two. And then... she'd said yes.

And then she'd fallen.

Juno pressed her hand against her sternum. Her heart beat unevenly, stuttering, but it was still beating.

She was alive.

“How…” Her voice came out destroyed and raspy. “How am I...?”

“Alive?” The cat tilted its head, and something in its expression reminded her of a child with a secret. “Well, because a little someone took you out of the water.”

Juno blinked; her mind was still too foggy to fully process what that meant. Someone. It should’ve unsettled her, but she couldn't think beyond the fact that she was breathing and her heart was still beating when it shouldn't have been.

The cat watched her with those gleaming violet eyes, clearly amused by her confusion. “You were sinking like a stone, quite deeply actually. I must admit it was fun at first, but then not so much.”

Nausea hit her suddenly, causing her to double over slightly. One hand pressed against her mouth and the other gripped the edge of the mattress.

The cat let out a delighted little hum. “Oh dear. Feeling a bit seasick, are we? Or is that just the aftereffects of nearly drowning?” Its tail swished lazily. “You do look quite green, though. Doesn't really suit you, if you ask me.”

Juno swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. Her head was pounding and her body felt worse than ever, and this thing was laughing at her.

“Poor little contractor,” the cat purred, kneading the blanket. “Half-drowned, wholly confused, and now trying very hard not to throw up. Great first impression.”

Juno tried to speak, but could only manage a weak groan. Her arms trembled as she tried to keep herself upright.

“Take your time,” said the cat cheerfully. “Though, really, you should be grateful. Not everyone gets rescued from the bottom of the harbor, you know. Quite the effort that took.”

Juno forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose. The nausea ebbed slightly, enough for her to lift her head weakly. The room still spun a little, and she blinked hard, trying to focus.

“You…” She swallowed again, her throat burning. “You're…”

“The Time Devil, yes.” It stretched, arching its back. “Though you can call me whatever you like. ‘Cat’ works.”

Her stomach twisted again, not from nausea this time, but from the realization settling in. She'd made a deal with this thing. Sold something; her soul, her time, her life, whatever, and she didn't even know what that meant.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered.

“I didn't do anything to you, dear Juno. You said yes. That was all you.” The cat paused, and its smile widened slightly. “Though, technically speaking, you do belong to me now. But we can discuss the fine print later. First, you should probably worry about not dying again. That would be inconvenient for both of us.”

Juno barely had time to process this before another thought cut through her.

“Yves,” she breathed. “What about Yves? Is he...?”

The moment his name left her lips, the cat shifted. Its expression remained composed, but the look in its eyes sharpened. Its tail stilled completely.

“Oh, him?” it said, its tone flatter now. “No need to worry about that.”

Juno tried to sit up straighter, but her head spun again. She gripped the mattress. “Did he die?”

There was a pause long enough to make her blood run cold. Then the cat answered with maddening neutrality. “He's just... not here.”

“That's not an answer,” she said, her voice weaker than she would have liked.

The Time Devil's ears twitched. “Why do you care? He was just noise. A momentary companion. A warm body with a mediocre joke or two.”

Juno's throat tightened. “He tried to save me.”

The cat sighed and turned its gaze to the ceiling, looking bored. “Yes, yes, very noble. How quaint.”

“You don't care about him.”

“Of course not.” Its smile returned. “You're my concern, not some boy who thought he was a hero.”

Despite how weak she felt, Juno's grip on the blanket knotted into fists. “You sound like you hated him.”

The Time Devil regarded her, her head tilted in amusement. “Observant, aren't you?” Its tail flicked, that eerie violet gaze sharpening just a hair. “Not bad, considering you're so ill.”

Juno's patience, already thin, snapped. “Excuse me?”

It smirked. “Oh, you know... sick girls like you usually have foggy minds. But look at you, still stringing thoughts together. Between the near-drowning and the nausea and the general... fragility.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, but before she could fire back, the cat cut in smoothly.

“I'm just messing with you,” it said, its expression softening into something almost sympathetic. “But while we're on the subject of Yves…”

It paused.

“You should be careful,” it said. “He seems quite... unpredictable.”

Juno's breath hitched.

The way the cat said it wasn't out of concern; it was a warning. It was a warning dressed as a riddle. It was a private joke that it didn't care to explain.

The Time Devil knew something she didn't. And it wanted her to feel that.

As Juno’s fingers brushed her neck, she felt the cool press of metal against her skin. Frowning, she pulled the object into view: the same pocket watch she had found before, hanging from a fine chain. Its hands were motionless, frozen at twelve o’clock.

She lifted her gaze to the cat, who was watching her intently, its violet eyes shimmering with amusement.

"What is this?" she asked, her grip on the watch tightening.

The cat’s ears twitched, and a slow, satisfied grin spread across its face. "Oh, that?" It stretched lazily, as if reveling in the moment. "That’s my watch, of course. A little reservoir of my power, if you will."

Juno’s brow furrowed. His power?

"What exactly does that mean?" she pressed.

The Time Devil leaned in slightly, its voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, yet its tone remained playful.

"You see, the position of the hands on that watch? It reflects the flow of time. And right now…" It grinned wider, its tail flicking. "Time on your body is stopped. Because I stopped it, my dear~" 

A shiver ran down her spine.

"Stopped time… on my body?" The words left her lips in a whisper, barely audible over the rhythmic creaking of the boat.

The Time Devil let out a pleased hum, as if savoring her realization. "That’s right!" It practically purred. "Just keep that little thing around your neck, and you’ll never have to die! Isn’t that wonderful?"

The cheer in its voice was laced with something darker, something just beneath the surface. And for a brief moment, its violet eyes gleamed with a sharper, more sinister light, something akin to ownership.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the unsettling glint was gone.

The cat beamed at her.

“Aren’t you grateful?”

Juno said nothing, gripping the watch a little tighter.

This creature was… strange. Unsettlingly unpredictable. Yesterday, it had been ominous, lurking in the shadows like some ancient specter. Now, it was disturbingly cheery, almost theatrical in its delight.

Which one was the real Time Devil?

Instead of demanding to be sent home, she decided to take a different approach. She needed to understand this place first, assess the situation before making any reckless moves.

Slipping her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet met the cool wooden floor. She spotted her boots nearby and slid them on, taking a moment to stretch, regaining her balance. The cat watched her closely, its tail curling idly as it observed her every movement.

"Where are we?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.

The Time Devil’s grin widened, pleased with the question.

"Ahhh, now that’s a good one~" It hopped onto a nearby shelf, sitting primly. "This, my dear, is the Limbo."

Juno frowned.

"The in-between," the cat elaborated, its voice dripping with amusement. "Not the living world, not the afterlife. A little nowhere, a little everywhere. Quite funny, don’t you think? A place that’s neither here nor there, hehehe~"

Juno processed the words carefully, nodding as she let her eyes drift across the cabin.

The dark wood was polished to a smooth finish, and the occasional beam of faint blue light filtered through the small windows, casting soft, dappled patterns on the floor. 

The boat held a simple, rustic charm. An abundance of objects and curiosities scattered throughout the small room. 

The interior was filled with an eclectic mix of artifacts, trinkets, and oddities. On a weathered wooden shelf, there were rows of antique pocket watches displaying a different time, some of them frozen in place while others continued to tick.

She moved slowly, scanning for anything she could use for protection.

Then, her gaze landed on it.

Hanging from a rusted nail on the wall was an old knife, its blade dulled with time. Her fingers brushed against the worn handle, testing its weight before slipping it discreetly into her pocket.

She wasn’t sure if she’d need it. But she wasn’t about to be caught defenseless.

The Time Devil, perched atop its shelf, made a soft sound in the back of its throat, somewhere between a hum and a chuckle.

It saw that. It let her take it, but said nothing.

Instead, its eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as she continued her exploration.

On a small carved table, a collection of colorful marbles was arranged in a neat spiral, catching the dim light and casting fractured reflections against the walls.

In one corner, a display of ornate, crystal vases held a variety of dead, dried flowers. Juno couldn't fathom the purpose of preserving such lifeless blooms.

The boat's floor was scattered with small items like marionettes with missing strings and cracked porcelain dolls with chipped faces, which made her feel uneasy.

Juno turned to the Time Devil, curiosity lacing her voice. "Why is all this stuff here?"

The cat, still lounging on its perch, flicked its tail idly and cast an uninterested glance at the objects around them. "No idea." It stretched luxuriously, as if the question itself bored it. "I’m surprised the owner of this boat actually collected all of these."

Juno froze.

The owner of this boat.

The words settled uncomfortably in her mind. She turned slowly, eyes locking onto the cat’s.

"Why do you say it like that?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "Who is the owner?"

The Time Devil’s ears perked up as if it had been waiting for her to ask. A slow, pleased chuckle escaped its throat, its tail flicking with delight.

"Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?" It grinned. "But where’s the fun in that? You’ll know when you need to know."

Juno’s jaw tightened. "So you’re not going to tell me anything?"

The cat let out a dramatic sigh, hopping down with effortless grace. "Must you be so impatient? Secrets are like fine wine, you know. Best enjoyed slowly, at the right moment."

Juno exhaled sharply. "I’m just trying to understand what’s happening."