The Promise of the Stars

Goji Fayuda hadn't bought so many groceries at once in years. She hoped no one recognized her on the way across the parking lot with her load. It was a miracle no one did in the supermarket; four days before Squidmas, it was hellish enough without trying to explain, "Oh, yes, we're going light on gifts and focusing on family time. You know, for Mom's sake. This? Well, it's not Squidmas dinner without swordfish! I know it's pricey, but the holidays only come once a year…"

It hurt to see the bill run over a hundred and fifty quid, but it took a lot to feed a party, and her orders were clear: only the best, and spare no expense. After buying everything on her list and extras, she still had some of the borrowed money left. Borrowed. Not taken. She'd pay it all back when everyone was healthy and the bills were in the past. Then she'd make herself worth Marie's trouble and goodwill.

With her bags loaded in the trunk she slid into the driver's seat and let out a long breath. The job was done. The car filled with soft jazz as she headed home; the mellow mix hadn't left her CD player since Marie made it for her months ago. Goji's favorites were the charts Marie herself wrote. They were perfect for draining the stress from her mind, for coming home clean after the worst of days, and oh, gods, she needed it tonight. After three delays in as many weeks, she'd made her case for medical training to the Agency's board of directors. It was every bit as grueling as she feared, but she managed to stay composed with her advocates beside her. Callie and Marie had confidence to share, and they spoke up when she faltered. It went as well as it could.

Sponsored training would be a dream come true – a way out of combat service, toward a real career, toward happiness. Thinking of it, Goji felt the thrill in her chest called hope, and treasured it all the way home.

Squidmas brought her quiet block to life with clouds of colored lights. The last few streets were like a cruise through the stars, and the windows of her little house glowed merrily in the night. She parked by the curb and savored the last of the silence on the porch; festive music washed out as she lugged a bag inside. "I'm home!"

"There you are, sweetheart." Her mother climbed off the couch and came to meet her at the door. "It's getting late. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Goji said. "Store was busy."

Deep in a war with chromatic cancer, Lluvia Fayuda stubbornly clung to her beauty. She was thin, though she'd always been, and the life in her smiling face filled Goji with warmth and love. She looked outside at the car full of groceries. "Goodness! Let me help with that."

"No, no! You go sit down. Kiyo can do it. Kiyo!" she called upstairs.

"What? I'm in the middle of a game!"

"That's what 'pause' is for, little brother!"

He groaned again, and in a moment came thumping down the stairs.

"Help your sister, please, Kiyoza," Lluvia said. She still insisted on carrying one small bag to the kitchen while Goji and Kiyo fetched the rest. Kiyo dumped his armload on the table.

"Holy carp! What's in here? It weighs a ton."

"I told you we're having a feast," Goji said. "Thanks, bud." She ruffled his mantle as he rooted through the loot.

"This is all for us? Or is your boyfriend coming too?" Kiyo snickered.

Goji rolled her eyes. "For the last time, I'm not dating, and you have no room to talk. You can't stop thinking about that new girl from Junior League. You gonna get her a present to show your love?"

"Lita?! Nuh-uh!" His young face still had too much blue hue to blush. "I told you she's not my crush!"

"Sure. Totally believe you."

"Aw, whatever." He left in a huff and ran back upstairs.

"Oh, to be eleven," Goji chuckled, "and to be such a bad liar."

"Let him have his little crush. I'm just glad he's making friends," Lluvia said, busying herself putting groceries away. "I wish you'd make more too."

"I'm fine, Mom. I promise." She gave her a smile. "You're getting better for real. We're not letting up now. I'll have social time once we beat this."

"Mm. Sweetheart, you give me hope that we can." Lluvia sighed and caught Goji in a hug. "Squidmas will be wonderful. I couldn't stand last year with you so tired and sick, and Kiyo disappointed… Thank you so much for planning all this."

"Aw, Mom, it's nothing. I can't wait to see his face when his JTL squad shows up. And Lita will be there…"

"Shh! You know how he eavesdrops." Lluvia surveyed the rest of the food that would dazzle her holiday guests. "Tell me something, though, sweetheart. I know this wasn't cheap. Oly paid for it, didn't she?"

"I… had to borrow the money until my next paycheck."

"I'd love to thank her personally," Lluvia said. "You don't talk about any friends but her, and she's certainly one in a million. Why don't you invite her too?"

"I – don't think – she's much of a party person," Goji stammered.

"The kids will all be playing together. The three of us could talk a while."

"Erm – it's fine. She has family too."

"Well, all right," said Lluvia, "but please tell her how grateful I am. Truly. The world needs more people like her."

"I'll be sure to let her know." Goji grabbed a box of stuffing to still her trembling hands. Damn this weakness – this panic that leaked into her lately. Each time "Oly" came up between them, her mother insisted more on meeting the girl. Goji cursed herself for ever mentioning the friend from work who floated her a thousand quid for car repairs last summer. Lluvia tried her best to meet the generous friend back then, and it took more than one creative excuse to avoid, though Marie offered to go.

"You've seen me act, Goji," she'd said. "Even you wouldn't know me if I tried hard enough."

But Lluvia was sharp, and she listened to the radio all day. There was a risk – a slight chance – she'd pick up on Marie's voice. And so they could never meet, not for more than a few words. Certainly not for a party. It was dropped for now, and Goji got control of herself. This year, she thought. This new year would bring the end of her mother's illness, the end of her service as Agent 3, the end of the secrets and lies and constant exhaustion. They would be a happy, healthy family again.

Then she could introduce her friend.

By then maybe they'd be more than – they were already more-than-friends, but – what was the word? What to call a girl who gave so freely in exchange for nothing? Offered her arms for comfort, her bed for rest, her home for quiet escape? Whose vexing interest never pressed or pried, but seemed to say, when you're ready, I'm yours.

What she and Marie were, Goji didn't know, but she knew she didn't want to wait much more.

"Did you get everything your mom needs?"

"Yes, ma'am. Everything," Goji replied.

"Oh, stop that," Marie groaned. "Sounds so wrong coming from you."

"Mom's so excited for this. Thank you."

"You and your mom and Kiyoza deserve to celebrate, and I'm happy to help make it happen."

"That reminds me: you're invited, of course. I promised I'd tell you," Goji said.

"That's sweet. I'd love to come."

"I'd love to have you, but you can't."

"She'll never know it's me," Marie said. "Look around! Not one second glance in all these people."

"I know…" She had a point, Goji thought. The Monsoon Café was awash with the downtown lunchtime rush. Her companion wore lenses to hide her native hue, and kept her mantle effortlessly flushed with rose, which she could hold steady and smooth all day. Goji could only hope for that kind of control someday. Still, she wished the disguise weren't needed. Marie had the loveliest lime-colored ink that she only saw when they were alone.

"Goji? You with me?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You look tired." Marie lowered her voice. "Nightmares again?"

"No, no! Haven't had one for a while." She hadn't run a mission in a while, either. Not for weeks. The turf between the city lines and Octo Valley was oddly quiet. Strange – she used to fear the calls. Now she almost hoped for them. Money from the last zapfish recovery was running low, a dialysis bill was coming due, and here she sat having tea instead of pulling extra patrols. And it might all be a thing of the past if she were cleared for the medical route, but how naïve to hope she'd be as long as Commander Nagisa Cuttlefish had any say…

"Goji. You're doing it again."

"No I'm not!" She dropped the tentacle she'd started to knead, and felt how her pulse had jumped. Only took a minute for her thoughts to tumble. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Stay here with me, Nocturne. Don't go to that place."

That name. Goji loved it, though she couldn't fathom why she deserved it. A few words from Marie settled her, and she took her surroundings in. Music and happy voices all around. Bright winter sun through the skylights above. Smells of coffee and tea and sweet baking things; and a gorgeous girl taking her hand.

"Stay here with me," Marie said again. "Everything's looking up. Your Squidmas plans are set. In a few days you'll be cleared to take life down a whole new road. This is your moment."

"Please don't get my hopes up."

"You crushed the interview yesterday. I could tell the board was impressed – even Gramps and Mom."

"Tch. Right. Your mother tried to discharge me. Why would she want me rewarded now?"

"I told you: all the medics and hospital staff report to the chief medical officer, not to her," Marie said, and smirked. "All she has to do is sign, and you're Dr. Nashov's problem for good."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm just saying you have nothing to fear. And even if she did decide to spite you with a 'no', she's one against four. Overruled."

"That's if the others clear me too."

"They will," Marie said. "Trust me on it."

Goji wished she had so much faith, but if she had faith in anyone, it was Marie.

Silence in the Valley ended late on Squidmas Eve afternoon. As Goji headed to the locker rooms to end her shift, Agent Five came sprinting after her.

"Fayuda! Hold it!"

"What's wrong?"

"Call from Intel – could be an attack – from the south." She was out of breath. "Up from the Valley. We're to scout and engage. One and Two'll rendezvous."

"What're we up against?"

"No clue. Just intercepted comms. We're the only ones here to respond."

Of course it would happen now. There was no time to call her mother. She hoped the bonus would make up for the worries and the ruined plans, and hell! – she hoped she made it back to apologize at all. "Suit up and let's move."

The sun was just setting when they reach the southern border wall. The skeleton crew of security guards must've gotten the warning too. They were scrambling to ready themselves, and barely noticed the two agents passing swiftly through. Goji knew this place well. Once outside the wall, she led Agent Five to a footpath along the canyon rim. "Head down that way. You'll find an old radio shed they can't see from below, but you'll get a view of that whole cliff."

"Roger. Where're you going?"

"There." She pointed to an ancient, snarled scaffold jutting from the canyon wall. "Old mining rig. I can cover the cliffs and your position from there."

"If you don't kill yourself! That's gotta be fifty yards out, against the wind."

"I can do it. Move out. Keep in touch," Goji said.

"Whatever you say."

She picked her way down through the overgrowth and shale into range of the suspended platforms. A year ago, she'd have been terrified to try this jump, but Marie's field training changed all that. Acrobatic skill had saved her more than marksmanship by now. She phased into low form and propelled herself away from the cliff, over the empty void to land squarely on a wide steel plate. The rig shivered with her impact. She slid into cover against a beam, and it was done.

Her earpiece crackled. "Damn, girl," said Agent Five. "You've gotta show me how to get air like that."

"Lots of practice," Goji breathed. "See anything from your end?"

"Nadda. Just weeds the whole way down."

"Same. No movement." The fingers and ledges of rock descending into Octo Valley caught the mournful evening light, but it would soon be dark and veiled in mist. Goji thought of her mother at home, and hoped Kiyo was there with her instead of off with one friend or another. As always, she had an extra hour built into her cover story, but this was likely to take longer. Mom won't start worrying until around eight. Intel had been wrong before, and she willed them to be wrong again as she hunkered down against the wind.

Night fell. The two agents kept their scopes roving over the hills. They were too far away to see Octo Valley itself; the biodomes were deeper down and farther towards the sea. Agent Five got impatient as the temperature fell.

"This was a bad tip for sure. Biggest threat I saw was a rat."

"Hope it stays that way," Goji said into her commlink.

"You got any big plans?"

"I did," Goji replied. "Rather be at them right now."

"You and me both, sister," said Agent Five. "I'm missing eggnog with my guy for this crap. He's got the works, too – the tree, the fire, the satin sheets… mm, and you know where all that leads."

"Erm… It's okay. Won't the wait just make it sweeter?" Goji cringed. What the hell am I saying?

"Heh. I like how you think, Fayuda. So – anyone special in your life?"

"Um… Kind of, but…"

A new voice on the comm saved her from dodging the question. "Anybody alive out here?" asked Agent One. "We're at the wall, checkpoint 47. Sound off positions."

"Welcome to the party," Agent Five drawled. "Half a klick west of you. Rundown radio shack. The mice send their regards."

"Straight out from the cliff. The mining rig scaffold," Goji said. "Nothing to report."

"I'd imagine not." Even over the comm, Agent Two's voice was rich and smooth. "Starting to look like a bad tip. Intel probably jumped the gun. We'll join you on watch, but if all stays calm, we're wrapping up within the hour."

Goji had never heard such good news. Agent One and Five joined each other in bemoaning the cold, and over their chatter Goji heard Marie's voice.

"Agent Three. Coming to your position. Standby." The whoosh of a jump carried softly across the gap, and Marie landed gracefully on the steel plate behind Goji.

"Company? For me? But what about the watch?"

Marie sat down next to her and muted her mic. "Mark my words: if this is a bad lead – and we both know it is – someone in decryption will get a write-up for Squidmas. Four agents and city police on high alert for nothing? Mom will be pissed."

"That's her standard state of being."

"Hm. You're not wrong."

Goji checked her watch. "My mom will be watching for me out the windows about now. I didn't get to call her before we scrambled."

"It's taken care of," said Marie. "I called her for you."

"You – you talked to her?" Goji gasped.

"Your cover story's easy to build on. Clinics get busy this time of year. I think I pulled off sweet, contrite receptionist very well." She pulled her voice up an octave. "'Hi, Mrs. Fayuda? I'm calling to pass on a message for Goji. She's covering for a nurse running late, and she'll be home as soon as possible. She hopes you'll forgive her. Yes, I know, she's so selfless. I don't know what we'd do without her.'"

Goji laughed and felt her cheeks flush. "I can't believe you talked to her. And said all that."

"You said you had plans at home, and I knew it'd be on your mind. One less thing for you to explain."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Nocturne." They sat together and watched the mist thicken down below. The moon was up, and cast the cliffs in silent blue-white glow. "I'm going to sound selfish for this," Marie said after a while, "but I'm almost glad this happened. I wouldn't have seen you at all on Squidmas Eve, or tomorrow, otherwise."

"I want to fast-forward to when you don't have to change your voice to talk to my family," Goji said. "When you can come for holidays like any other normal gir- er – I mean…"

"Normal what?" Marie's eyes glittered.

"Not that you're abnormal," Goji stammered. "But. You know…"

"High profile. Yeah, I know. It sucks," Marie said. "The only good part is being able to help you out so much."

"Help me out?" Goji repeated. "Try, 'help me and my family out of total ruin.'"

"I admit that has more drama to it."

"Marie, don't play it down. You know how much you do for us. It's no small thing."

"No," Marie conceded. "But it's a thing I love. Like Squidmas, but all the time."

"I wish I knew what I did to deserve someone who'd – who'd bring me the moon if I asked."

"The moon and all the stars," Marie said. "You brighten my life, Goji. It's not some deed you did. It's you. Just you." She squeezed Goji's hand and got to her feet. "Let's call this a night. There's nothing to see, and you and your mom have cookies to bake. Come on – ride back to HQ with me."

It was after midnight when Goji fell, exhausted, into bed. After the mission, her body craved sleep, but her mom was so excited for the bonding time that she couldn't say no. When they quit, a heaping plate of cookies and half the party meal were done, and the few presents for Lluvia and Kiyo sat beautifully beneath the tree. Goji had been very clear that they were to get nothing for her. She was more than content with the party and her mother's improving health. Despite the scare with the false alarm, she fell asleep happy and looking forward to a peaceful Squidmas Day.

She felt like she'd just closed her eyes when Kiyo's footsteps woke her up sneaking down the stairs. Pale light already trickled through the frosted window. She groaned and pulled the curtain closed to doze an hour more until there was a quiet knock on her bedroom door. Kiyo's impatience finally got the best of him.

"Goj? You up?"

"Nn… Yeah, bud. Be down in a minute."

"Hurry up! It's Squidmas!"

"All right, all right." She rolled out of bed and pulled on slippers and a sweater. Kiyo was waiting in the hall when she came out.

"Come on!" He hurried her downstairs and pointed into the living room. "Look!"

The little stack of presents Goji left beneath the tree had grown. There were more for Kiyo, and where there had been none for her, now she saw her name on tags in her mother's flowing cursive. I didn't ask for this! I wanted to get nice things for you not worry about what you got for me oh gods look at all of this!...

"Merry Squidmas, you two."

Goji turned to see Lluvia, beaming, coming down to join them. "Mom?" She stood in shock as Kiyo danced around the scene. "What's all this?" she whispered. "I – we set everything out last night, and-"

"And I had a few more hidden around," Lluvia said proudly. "You should know better than to expect nothing from me for Squidmas."

"You didn't..." Goji's eyes stung. "Mommy… Thank you."

"Let me get a picture of both of you by the tree," she said. "Then you can get right to it. We don't want to be late to start our feast."

They passed the morning opening presents and relaxing with cookies and hot cocoa. Goji snuggled on the couch with a new scarf around her neck and a pile of novels whose release dates she'd forced herself to ignore all year. She forgot ever mentioning most of them to her mother. In her mind, she had plenty, and had no time for more. But for pristine hardcovers from her mom, she'd make the time.

Kiyo was thrilled by new gear and games. When everything was unwrapped, he ran upstairs to start the newest quest of… Goji couldn't remember the rugged hero's name. She would take her books over screens and controllers any day. For now, Kiyo's departure was her cue to clean up the paper scraps and mugs. She didn't want to let her mother lift a finger after all she'd already done, but together they mixed the punch and put the swordfish in to bake. Around three, with everything ready, Goji found Kiyo in his room and told him to get dressed.

"It's way too early for dinner," he complained, engrossed in his game.

"Yeah? Okay. I'll have yours, then."

That got him moving, and not a minute too soon. He wandered into the kitchen as there was a knock on the front door. "Is somebody here?" he asked.

Lluvia smiled as their conspiracy reached its end. "Why don't you go find out?"

"Huh? You mean – no way!" He ran to the door and threw it open, and was pounced on by Yuma and Omin – his Junior Turf War teammates and best friends since memory began.

Goji and Lluvia looked on as the trio clamored inside. "You know, you're getting to be as sly as me." Lluvia handed her a glass of eggnog. "Here's to a Squidmas surprise well-planned."

"Thanks. I love mine, too." She still had the silver scarf snug around her neck. "And I can't believe you – all those books – I never mentioned half of them!"

"I know what my daughter likes." Lluvia hugged her. "I only had to browse your shelves to see which ones you're missing. Just promise me something, sweetheart: that you'll take time off of all that work to sit and rest and read them."

"I promise, Mommy." If I just get cleared for that training, maybe I can. Maybe…

The boys piled into the kitchen then, and Kiyo was all grins. "I knew it was too much food for us! Something was up."
"Oh, please," Goji said. "You didn't know a thing."

"Did too."

"Bet you didn't know who else is gonna come," Omin said.

"Who?"

Yuma batted his eyes and sang, "Liiiiiitaaaa…"

Kiyo's eyes went wide with sudden horror mixed with glee, and to Goji, the stress of planning seemed to melt away. She'd do it all again for this moment to see her mother joyful, laughing, joking with the kids; and Kiyo, now running to fix his mantle in the mirror. The house was bright and warm on Squidmas Day – alive again! – and only one person could possibly bring it nearer to perfection.

Around eight, after dinner, but with the party in full swing, Goji felt her phone twitch in her pocket. Somehow, she knew the sender before she pulled it out. It was a message from Marie: [Can you get away for a minute?]

[Sure. Why?] she replied. The question was quick, and gave nothing away. The kind that came before bad news. She waited for the answer, holding breath.

[Got a surprise for you. Come out front if you can.] Goji's heart leaped as another text came through. She jumped up from the couch and stepped behind the kids clustered on the floor, out to the kitchen to slip quietly through the back door. Who cared about shoes and coats? She ran in her slippers around the house, careful to duck past the living room window, and saw the sleek car parked at the neighbor's curb, reflecting all the thousand lights from the bushes by the walk. Marie, with mantle flushed all in rose, leaned against the driver's door.

"Pardon me – I think I'm lost," she purred. "Mind helping a girl out with- oof!" Goji ran into her arms. "Hey, Nocturne. Missed you too."

"You came," Goji said into her shoulder. She noticed Marie's eyes didn't match her mantle. No lenses this time. "And you're getting bold."

"Call me careless," Marie said, "but I was coming home from Mom's, and I thought, why not drop by? How're things going in there? Cute scarf, by the way."

"Everything is wonderful," Goji said. "For once. Thank you. From me and Mom and Kiyo, and the kids, thank you. You made this Squidmas the best for us."

"You planned it. I just helped pay." Marie grinned. "And as sweet as this sneaky little rendezvous is, I am not the surprise I meant."

"I thought we said we weren't doing gifts for each other."

"We're not. This is so much better. I'm not supposed to tell you this," said Marie, "but you're in. You're cleared to start medical training as of the first of the new year."

Goji gaped. "H-how – do you know?"

"Just came off a day with Mom and Gramps, remember?" she said. "It slipped out a few times."

"I – I can't – I don't believe it!"

"Ah, I knew you'd get it," Marie said. "Come here." Goji fell into her arms again, laughing and crying and humming with joy. "Congrats, Nocturne. Merry Squidmas."

It's almost over. Turning around! A dream to chase, a job, a life of living, not just breathing. "Marie." Gods, it felt good to say her real name. "I don't know what to say! Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Don't thank me. You earned it, girl."

"I'd never – never – be standing here without you." Goji blinked, and they were so close, breath clouding in the air. The curtains were drawn, the kids absorbed in games. They were alone. So golden was this moment, her heart so full that there was only one thing left to do. "Show me your color," she whispered. "The real you." Marie's tentacles returned to their perfect lime, and before she could voice the question on her lips, Goji pulled her close and kissed her in the blue-green holy glow.

Fleeting. She broke it off as soon as she felt Marie kiss back. Her heart galloped, but instead of panic it was thrill. What did I do? What what what did I just DO? For once, it was Marie who couldn't speak, and Goji watched her wide eyes bare astonishment.

"I. Wasn't sure," the older girl said slowly. "I hoped. I wished. But I wasn't sure."

"Me neither." Goji almost laughed again. "And still, I'm – I'm still… not rushing into anything. I've never…"

"I know."

"I don't want to get your hopes up and then…"

Marie put a finger to her lips. "Don't worry. We can take it one step at a time. All the rest comes later. This?" she said. "Let's leave this night as perfect as it is right here and now."

Goji nodded. The rest would indeed come in its time. They didn't need all the answers now. Just this. The blessed here-and-now.

"They'll be looking for you soon," Marie said, mantle turning back to rose. "Go on. Don't miss the rest of your party."

"Y-yeah." Goji glanced back toward the house. No one was looking yet, but she was out of time. She threw her arms around Marie once more. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You know it. We'll go out again for tea, and talk a little if you want."

"I do. Yes. Yes! I do."

"I'll call you in the morning, then. Go! Go give your mom the news."

"Okay! Goodnight! Merry Squidmas!" Goji ran back through the lawn, and vanished in the shadow of a tree.

Marie didn't linger once her love was safely back inside. They were already lucky Lluvia hadn't looked out the window by now. She left her headlights off until she was well clear of the house, then sped from the sleepy borough back toward Inkopolis. She'd let herself get carried away, yes, but no regrets! Not one. She felt like waking from a year-long dream; the single touch of those soft lips at last upon her own. Rust swept away before a cleansing tide of hope. How she felt like singing! She rolled the windows down and took the highway heading home. "I'll bring you those stars, Goji Fayuda!" she cried to the winter night. "Every last one."