Samarie wanted to blame her blessing.
The one moment she'd overcome her crippling shyness.
The one time she was able to honestly express her feelings like she always wanted…
Of course, Samarie knew it was wrong to say those kinds of things. The situation wasn't right, they needed to focus more on survival.
However, she only figured it out in the moment.
When Marina's mind was as chaotic as the tempest.
Where the only guarantee was her confusion, pain, and ultimately…
Her inability to reciprocate.
She understood why.
But, understanding only made the mistake, and the grief that came with it, all the more striking.
Like she had painted it yellow for the world to see!
Samarie returned to her potato corner.
Weeping, just as she had when she arrived.
Only now, the wounds were less physical.
The pain of making so many mistakes, when she was so close to the person whom she loved with all her heart.
But there was also pain in the quiet part of Marina that whispered to her.
Of the forgiveness that she was able to find in her heart, and the slim chance of her reciprocating what Samarie felt.
Slim, it might have been, it still brought a weak smile to her face.
It meant she would have to do her best.
However, she had several more plans in her agenda before she could begin.
The resolve in her heart quietly burned. Smoldering though even the harshest of setbacks.
Oh how she wished it was only a minor-
No!
She couldn't be thinking like that!
A crisp slap echoed throughout the cart, as Samarie slapped herself.
She needed to focus.
The city, that was their next destination.
Parsing through the other passenger's minds, she was able to see that they would be leaving after their meal. Although, her gaze lingered on Marina far longer than was comfortable.
Tempted as she was to enter the cultist's mind, Samarie held off from the attempt.
Not because it was off limits to her. But because it was due to her misunderstanding that brought her here in the first place.
Although, she would never be able to live with herself if she wasn't able to express herself properly when she had the chance.
In the end, it had been a variety of factors that had pushed Samarie into making her decision.
Shaking her head, she decided to focus on more pressing matters.
Like getting to Prehevil faster.
And she would do it with the potatoes she had on hand.
All she needed was the starch, and powder of some kind.
In a pinch, bikaku to scrape the walls of the train.
Only to find that her blessing had given her a lot more to offer than just the tail on her back.
For her efforts against the clown, it seemed that she was given another set of appendages.
Rinkaku, her blessing had called it. A pair of appendages that originated from her lower back, just above the tailbone where the bikaku was.
They appeared similar to the bikaku, but were more notable for their shorter nature.
Flexing them seemed to only make the differences more pronounced, as they seemed to be more dexterous, acting more similarly to clawed daggers than the hands they appeared to look like.
Effectively, they closed the gap with her mid ranged bikaku, and her long ranged spells. Shoring up her weaknesses where it came to combat.
Just more things to take her mind off her worries.
Samarie would chuckle, if she found it within herself to feel anything more than the crippling pain of rejection.
But that was besides the point.
She needed to make a circle on the floor.
Samarie sliced the potatoes in half, using each piece to draw an image on the floor.
And once she was done, all she needed to do was spread wood dust all over the starch, binding both and marking the ritual circle on the floor.
It was a desperate measure she had learned while brushing the minds of the less fortunate students. The ones who found themselves increasingly out of chalk, but never out of potatoes.
Samarie wondered what went wrong for that to be the case. Then again, perhaps it was for the better that secret was left alone.
Once she had dusted the last of the wood shavings on the floor, a sudden influx of otherworldly energy consumed the room, coallessing on the circle.
It consumed every last drop, the air feeling thinner. As shimmering crimson sparks birthed a portal.
A portal to the city.
It shook, tremored as each second passed.
It wouldn't last long.
But she didn't need long.
Samarie just needed enough.
'Don't worry, Marina. I'll find a way for you to love me.' The promise sounded hollow.
But she would give it a shot, no matter what.
Even if she had to hike mountains, walk the sky, or make pigs soar across the stars.
She would risk it all for Marina.
"I love you."
A kiss in the wind, along with a vow.
One which drifted along to its intended recipient. The message was solely for Her ears, for Her to feel..
A message that felt like a searing kiss, one burning with the desperation of a dying sun.
Samarie crossed the line, and entered the city limits.
One moment she was in a cramped train car.
Her companions the potatoes at her feet.
The next, she found herself standing in the cold midst of a random street. The portal closing as she left.
Behind her, stood a gate, one which led back into old town, the slums.
It seemed like it was opened while she was asleep.
A curious thing, since the whole reason why the group elected to ride the train was because it was locked.
Which brought up the question.
Who opened it?
Something to keep in mind.
Looking around, she found out that the street led to the residential district on the left. And one the right, led the path of the main junction.
Along which, she'd eventually find the church.
The same one where Marina had been forged.
Where she was changed into the person she was today.
Many times in her mind, she had heard that place be repeated.
If she wanted to understand what brought her to that decision, Samarie needed to go through her beloved's life first hand.
Only through her lens could she be rid of her blindness where it came to feelings and emotions.
Walking along the path, she eventually reached an intersection. The mark at the back of her neck suddenly gushing like a river.
Something was close. And her senses told her nothing about it was any good.
"Oh, here I was minding my business, when this little lady arrived to brighten my day!" A person cheerfully stated.
Only, it wasn't a person in the usual sense.
But a bipedal cat. One which wore clothes that seemed dated, but gave off the general sense of whimsy.
"Now, you seem quite familiar, are you sure we haven't met before?" It asked, approaching her from the road that went towards the residential district. "Oh, where are my manners! My name is Pocketcat. But for you, you can call me friend. What about you, stranger?"
Pocket Cat, a cryptid of myth and wives tales. A monster meant to keep children in line. Not a being that was actually supposed to exist!
Her appendages sprouted, as her stance lowered. Samarie getting ready for a fight.
"Oh? But I mean you no harm, stranger," It tried to persuade, the cheshire grin on its lips widening. "It isn't the time to fight. For now, I am merely an observer of the festival. One that might come in handy if you have the necessary goods. Hehe!"
The laugh was unnerving.
But in the end, Samarie could tell the entity was being at least somewhat genuine.
Her kagune retracted, but still ready at a moment's notice.
"Good, this makes it easier for the two of us." It cheered, a sneer appearing on its face, as a noise resounded from behind it.
A burlap sack. One which was filled with something that writhed beneath the covers.
"Silence! Can't! You! See! I am discussing! With! Some! One!" From out of its trousers, a baton was produced, Pocketcat bashing whatever was inside, until it finally ceased to move.
"Good, now where were we?"
The mark continued to bleed, as if to exacerbate her worries.
Samarie hoped Marina was doing better than she was…