Chapter 1

Waiting by the gate. That's something I never thought I would ever do again.

The last time I did that, ten-year-old me was impatiently waiting for the ship painfully trudging towards the dock, blaring off afar at sea, before finally mooring, and all the sailors were trudging off the catwalk before I finally see my father. I remember growing antsy, impatient as he pushed through the sliding bars before picking me up, and I can remember the smell of pins and medals and that rich smell from his crisp uniform, and that big goofy laugh he lets out especially on happy occasions such as this.

Now, here I am again, over a decade later, in an overactive crowd, catching a glimpse of the SDV Kindler, this tiny sleek spec gleaming far out in the ocean. Unlike before, the rush or impatient thrill that rocked me as a kid just wasn't there anymore. Maybe that's just a side effect of being in your 20s. Maybe that's a 'me' problem.

Or maybe it's both.

The fact that I'm trying to contrive any hint of excitement should be a massive red flag. If I can't act like I'm expected to, waiting for someone dear to me to come ashore to greet you after some time out at sea, then why am I even here?

That's one way to feel cut off. Father's, wives, children, all eagerly waiting for their mothers, uncles, even siblings to get off that claustrophobic tin can so they can be smothered to death by love. Me? I promised my friend I would meet her here.

That's not to say I'm excited. I mean, I should be. Don't get me wrong, reunions are always the best, but the cliché thrill of such a momentous event isn't ringing with me.

Maybe it really is a 'me' problem.

"Mommy, look! It's getting bigger!" My ears pick up a gleeful kid's voice amidst the clamoring voices of a small but vocal crowd.

"Yeah, look! It's almost here! You going to wave to big sis when you see her?"

"Yeah, and a big hug, too!"

That little back and forth does small wonders to my heart, but as I return my attention back to the Kindler, I am amaze that the ship close the distance so quick.

Being a former Coast Guard ship of unknown origin, the retrofitted Kindler's sterile white coat is starting to show its age with specs of rust on it, but that's part of its charm. Not to mention the neat little customizations the mad bunch of crew member added, like the makeshift torpedo's, retrofitted brass, a literal black flag with a golden diamond emblazoned in the middle, and a crew with a mismatch of clothes that look more akin to pirates than an actual sailors part of a navy.

Still, the way these mad lads and mad lasses dress themselves, they got a sense of fashion with blue hoodies and black skinny shorts being the latest trend from the looks of it. Not bad for a Navy that can't afford to issue their own sailors’ uniforms.

Ahh well, at least, the Navy takes care of them in more smart and practical ways, like food and protection, for which I'm thankful.

And it seems those efforts paid off given that a whole school of perfectly healthy and unharmed sailors, both enlisted and officers, I presume (I can't tell whos' who from their awesome fashion style) are eagerly waving back to their loved ones while some are more composed than many others.

Guess the officers just love to stand out, I guess. Buncha hardasses....

But after separating the hardasses from the badasses, my shoulders gloomily slump as I can't find the person I've been anticipating. Either she's not out on deck, or my dumbass self just missed her all while she's frantically trying to get my attention.

I won't be able to hear her since the crowd is going wild, so, yeah, the odds are totally stacked against me on this.

Well, ship's close enough to see people on the deck. Better put on the smile.

The Kindler is at least merciful enough to proudly boast it's horn far enough to not pierce my ears, but it's more than enough for my muscles to curl and lock up. One way to trigger fight or flight, I guess.

Several half-assed deep breaths passed, trying to remind my dramatic nerves that everything is fine and that it's just the friggin' ship. The same ship that fully docked and its crew impatiently coming ashore.

It's not long before first wave slips past the gate and the families clamor to find their long awaited loved one.

But when I try to find mine, my idiotic self finds myself sucked into the quagmire of people clamoring into me.

Everywhere I turn, strangers surround me. No way out. I'm trapped. Just a big juicy target.

There's only one way out. A desperate dash, it doesn't matter where, out of the sea of people.

That is until my wrist is firmly seized and I feel myself being fished away. Before I can register what exactly happen, whoever grabbed me freed me from my predicament and here I am only a few meters away small pond of gleeful people.

Turning around, I found the source of my deliverance. A familiar face in a black rugged yet elegant black jacket, adorned with a crimson tie and baggy cargo pants, gifting me smile that soothes my soul to it's very being.

"Sooo.... did you miss me?"

Here she is, this tall yet bold bronze skinned punk with a dark brown pony tail, amber eyes and treasured aura that reminds those who are with her that they're safe, back from her tour out back at sea, ready for her well-deserved shore leave.

My preemptive hug should be more than enough for her answer, but just in case, "Welcome home, Juchei. Oh wow... I missed you so much."

Her chuckle is soon followed by her arms snaking around my neck, pulling me in further, humming melodiously.

"Do you know how much I've been looking forward to finally being home with my favorite person?" She murmurs, before pre-emptively scooping you in the air and performs gleeful twirl, like a prince would to his elated betrothed. Such magic blossoms further with her lips mushing against mine. "This much."

Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach and my cheeks feeling delightfully warm, we both decide to savor the moment with a few more kisses. A few quick sweet ones before we seal one that is soft, tender, eager for the warmth, compassion and love of such a connection.

"Pretty sure your buddies are thinking the exact same thing." I muse.

She giggles. "I bet those knuckleheads are glad to be back on dry land, but trust me, they are not as excited as I am."

"They're not."

"Nope." She replies, popping the P for that cute emphasis. "Not even close."

Such an answer with that amount of clarity leaves me more than satisfied as I silently nuzzle my nose against her. By the gods how I miss her scent too!

"Don't get me wrong." She continues. "Being out at sea, roughing up a few pirates, seedy mercs, y'know the usual. Not to mention a nice friendly game with other salty sea dogs. I mean it's great and all but..."

"But..."

"I wish you were there. My favorite snuggle bunny."

So cheesy. But, somehow, Juchei always makes it charming.

As of right now, no words are spoken. Juchei's embrace kindling the spark within me is all that's needed. But, of course, the far edges of my mind have to remind me that this moment will not last forever. Time waits for no one, not even a reunited couple.

"How's your story coming along, darling?" Juchei's soft voice gracefully weaves me back to reality, walking away from the gate.

"I just started a new book." I confess.

Juchei perks up. "Oh, yeah?" She hums, playfully ruffling my hair. "My little Shakespeare!"

My head bashfully bows. "It's for a local contest. And between redrafting and work it's a bit of a slow burn sadly."

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Juchei assures me. "If anything, it shows you how much you care. Like it's your own little baby."

My eyes can't help but roll at that, but my spirits dim knowing there's more than I'm letting on. Between the writer’s block and... a few minor incidents, writing doesn't have the same thrill or gusto it once had. I can't help but wonder will I ever find the joy again to write, let alone finish, at least, a short story.

That and-

"Hey," Juchei's murmur pulls me from the maelstrom I was subconsciously falling into. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Just..." What am I supposed to say? How can I say what's bothering me without trauma dumping or not trying to hold anything back? Especially since Juchei just got back from a job mor hardcore and dangerous than I'll ever have.

"Juuuuust?"

Man, she's so patient.

"I don't know how to explain it." I candidly answer.

Feeling my hand being claimed signals my fight or flight systems, but the gentle squeeze from Juchei's grip assures me that it's a false alarm.

"Let's narrow it done then, love."