Talking with Rylee again was the best medicine for his sour mood. For a minute, he felt like they were kids again, just prattling on with no restraint about whatever nonsense crossed their minds. Many of their old conversations were beyond meaningless, but the interaction itself held inestimable value. Even now, Kiori felt a certain lightness of heart when Rylee began to describe her dream job. He pictured her with a bandanna, an eye patch, and parrot on her shoulder. Then, he let out a laugh. It was soft at first, barely a snicker, but the image Rye's words had conjured was too much for him, and the first bona fide laugh he'd had in years escaped. His lungs were finally waking up and stretching away the stiffness; by the gods it felt good to laugh again.

Then he noticed that Rylee had moved closer to him. Not uncomfortably close; in fact it felt good to be this close to her. She began to tease him, like she always loved to do, about them being husband and wife, but then she went on... and on. At first, her coy grin told him it was just another silly rambling for him to laugh at, or maybe respond to with a jab of his own, but as she continued, she almost sounded sincere. It then occurred to Kiori that he was taken away before he would have had any real interest in those things. They had their childhood friendship back, but they weren't children anymore. Did that mean that they could have more than just a friendship? The prospect intrigued Kiori, but was accompanied by a shadow of reluctance. He had just found his old self; was it time to move on from that already? 

Rylee's narrative came to an abrupt end, and Kiori noticed that she had somehow managed to fluster herself. Kiori simply smiled and said, "Well, maybe we'll get a chance at that fresh start yet. Just promise me that if you do decide to become a pirate, you'll teach your parrot good manners." He laughed again. Had she even been on a boat before? Pirates...