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1. The Sanctuary Sealed, and a Wanderer
"We'd save energy if we slept together, sis. I'll be your personal human pillow and escort you all the way through REM sleep—"
"I'm setting the electronic lock now. Good night."
"...Ah. Yes. Good night."
Shutia's proposal — seamless, well-practiced — was shut on the other side of a physical barrier before it had fully landed.
Normally she would have started working on the lock's vulnerabilities immediately. Tonight she didn't. Because in the moment before the door closed, her internal *sis-exhaustion sensor* had registered the faint shadows under Ledea's eyes, and that data overrode everything else.
"...Can't be helped. Tonight she needs real sleep."
Shutia secured every entrance to the dock with the kind of layered locks that would stop a rat, a nanomachine, or anything else that might think about disturbing what was behind them.
"Anyone who interrupts sis's sleep," she said quietly to no one, "becomes space dust."
With that settled, she headed out alone into Subaru Station's commercial district.
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2. An Unaware Presence and a Girl Made of Sunlight
People slowed down when she passed. They always did.
Shutia moved through the main street of the commercial district with her usual unhurried precision — blonde hair, composed bearing, a face that drew eyes the way gravity drew objects. None of it registered to her as relevant information.
Her feet found their way, without much deliberate thought, to the corner of the block where salvaged parts and new-model devices shared shelf space in cheerful disarray.
*Hull Station.*
Ledea used this shop often. And the girl behind the counter — Sati — was someone Ledea trusted.
"Oh! Shutia! Hello!"
The voice came from behind the counter before the door had fully opened. Bright, uncomplicated, entirely without ulterior motive.
Once, watching Sati talk and laugh with Ledea had produced something burning in Shutia's chest. *The audacious little kitten who thinks she can stand next to my sister.* That had been the category.
Somehow, face to face and one-on-one, the burning wasn't there.
"...Hello, Sati."
Strange. Sati's particular quality of openness seemed to neutralize something — like the presence of clean light in a room that had been closed too long.
"Is Ledea not with you today? Is there something I can help you with?"
"She's resting. I thought I'd look at some parts, if that's all right."
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3. An Unconscious Touch
Ship maintenance was technically Ledea's domain. Shutia had made certain additions of her own, quietly — a concealed booster here, an *extremely wide-range surveillance sensor* (definitely not a covert observation system) there — things only she knew how to operate. Which meant her eye for parts was, without her having made any particular effort, very good.
She and Sati moved along the shelves together. Sati's explanations were careful and thorough, her small hands pointing out specifications with the focus of someone who genuinely cared whether the recommendation was right.
"This new anchor head — I think it would actually suit your handling style really well, Shutia!"
*(...Cute.)*
The word arrived in Shutia's thoughts without permission.
*Sis is the most beautiful thing in the universe. That's cosmological fact. Even sis doing the cold-shoulder routine when you try to pet her is objectively wonderful.*
But this was different. There was something in front of her right now — earnest, unguarded, practically vibrating with the effort of being helpful — that produced an entirely separate response. The kind that made you want to put something fragile somewhere safe.
She didn't decide to do it. Her hand was already moving.
"...Hm?"
Sati went still.
Shutia's hand had come to rest on her hair, and was moving — slowly, gently — in long, deliberate strokes. The care in it was almost absurd. Like handling something that might startle.
Sati's expression cycled through surprise, then something softer. She didn't pull away. Instead, after a moment, she tilted her head very slightly into the contact, like a small animal that had decided to trust.
*(Ah. This is... a different kind of restorative, isn't it.)*
For a while, the only things in the shop were the smell of electronics and a comfortable quiet.
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4. A New Warmth, Lingering
"...Oh — sorry. I got distracted."
When Shutia withdrew her hand, Sati looked briefly as though something had been taken away. Then she bowed, quickly and sincerely.
"No, please — I'm the one who should — being patted by Shutia is, um... honestly an honor."
Shutia selected several useful parts and settled the bill. Normally she would have left with the clean efficiency of someone who has completed a transaction and has other places to be.
"Um! Shutia!"
The voice caught her at the door. She turned.
Sati was standing behind the counter, fingers doing something complicated with each other, voice dropped to something almost too quiet.
"...If it's okay... could I ask you to... do that again sometime? The, um. The patting."
*Thump.*
A different kind of impact than the magnetic storm. Less overwhelming, more — unexpected. Like a small object striking something that hadn't braced for it.
The person who was, by any objective measure, completely unhinged about her sister stood completely still for several seconds.
"...Y— yes. Yes, of course. Anytime. That's completely fine."
"Really?! Thank you so much!"
Sati's face lit up all at once — the particular brightness of someone who has asked for something small and been told yes.
Shutia walked out of the shop feeling, to her own mild surprise, considerably lighter than she had going in.
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5. The Walk Back
The satisfaction followed her all the way to the dock.
*Sis is the sun. That hasn't changed. That will never change.*
But something new had been added to the picture — something that felt like being needed in a different way, by someone who had no idea what they were asking for or who they were asking it from.
"...When sis wakes up, I'll show her the new parts. And maybe open with a shoulder massage offer."
She walked back to the ship humming, energy running in directions that were, as usual, not entirely conventional.
Behind her, in the quiet of Hull Station, Sati sat with both hands pressed to the top of her head, staring at the door that had closed.
"Shutia is so cool..." she said, to no one. "Ledea is wonderful too, but Shutia is just — she seems so reliable. Like nothing could go wrong if she were there."
She turned this thought over for a moment.
"I want to be more useful to her. Oh — I should have given her a discount on those parts. Why didn't I think of that."
In a small corner of the galaxy, in a cluttered shop that smelled like solder and old metal, something had put down a root.
Quietly. Without announcement.
But roots don't ask permission.