She was so, colourful.

Wide-spectrum. Chromatic.

Her grace incalculable.

An elegant anomaly.

From the moment I first observed her (exactly 224 days ago) I was fixated. The memory remains vivid: she stood on the porch of her family home, as she does now, brush in hand, applying pigment to a canvas with a motion that appeared intentionally randomised.

I have long been a student of scientifics, but I fail to explain the intensity of my interest in her. She is an abnormality. Perhaps because, before today, legal constraints obstructed any deeper investigation. But now, now I’m of age — a certified new-man — I am fully authorised and wholly determined to test my hypothesis.

“Rainbow, I’m your Soulmate,” I whispered from behind the carriage across the street.

“You better not say that to her face,” Nelli snorted at me.

“But there’s probability it’s true,” I countered, shrinking into hiding.
Nelli huffed, rolling her eyes in disapproval. “If your father finds out you begged to join morning deliveries just to ogle his highest-paying customer’s daughter, he’ll gut you.”

“What are you two chin-wagging about?” Father called from the left. I turned to see him, half in, half out of the carriage, elbow-deep in trays of herbs. He halted his rummaging to glare at us. “You here to help or gawk? We’ve got customers waiting. Nelli, you know the order — hop to it!”

“Yes sir, fetching the hemp root!” Nelli replied, springing into motion.
I stood well back, strategically keeping my distance from the soil-covered inventory, whilst Nelli shuffled around trays of contraband. Father jumped down with a solid thump and shoved a tray into my chest. I took it out of necessity, then pushed it into Nelli’s arms as soon as I could.

All the while, my peripheral vision remained affixed to the porch. Studying her. The painter. Rainbow. Multiple variables had complicated my execution so far. But I had never lost faith in my hypothesis. At any moment, the optimal conditions to initiate my experiment would arise: as even the most rational Korainian had to admit. Destiny is an undeniable force.

It was five cycles ago that Father and I had ‘the talk’ (his euphemism) inducting me into the family enterprise. My first field excursion occurred at the edge of The Pits, where we journeyed to the illegal Border Marshes Market. There, we encountered a Whitescale colony dweller coated in mud and hawking raw herbs from a wheelbarrow. Father haggled for banned rootstock, traded a sack of trinkets, and declared it ‘Lesson One’.

‘Lesson Two’ took place several eights later, when he introduced me to his business model: pedalling those herbs. Technically illegally. Uji’s geology, specifically The Mainland, is largely dense rock with low soil content. The colonies, however, particularly Mountu, possess advantageous grasslands. By 70AL colony tribes had formalised trade deals with The Mainland. But as you’d expect, with official trade agreements come taxes. Regulations.

The Government only approved certain produce. Medicinal and recreational herbs? They were prohibited crops. Add to that, supply bottlenecks and a demand for untaxed profits bred businesses like that of my great-grandfather (a broker of non-sanctioned transactions). Through him and those like him, colony cultivators gained a new market: Upper Region elites whose funds superseded Law.

We were herb-smugglers. We committed low-stakes crime for low-yield gain. My Mother never approved. She told me as much. She hated my name — said it tethered me to a life in The Pits, haggling for leaves. She was a visionary, and she envisioned so much more for me. She had the insight to know that with the correct inputs (grades, discipline, strategic avoidance of root-stained gloves) I could live as The Universe destined.

Then she died.

Father responded with more trips to The Colony Outlands, less dialogue with his only son. Still, every morning he would reiterate that in a matter of cycles — I would join the family trade. In turn, I doubled down on school. Particularly chemistry, biology, and physics. My scores reached near-perfect ranges, and lecturers predicted my trajectory would land me in The City. So I calculated. Plotted. Prepared a single-variable life path.

Then I met Rainbow.

The original encounter occurred 224 days ago. A critical divergence. Father required assistance with an urgent delivery to a client who would later become his highest-paying customer. I went along reluctantly, complaining the whole way, until the moment our delivery carriage rolled to a stop. It wasn’t the home that diverted my attention (though it was a perfect architectural specimen). It was her. The Whitescale girl on the porch.

Not only was she singular in her beauty — she was, undefinable. A total unknown that deconstructed my orderly worldview. Her colour palette defied categorisation. Her brushstrokes refused symmetry. Seeing her, her art, changed the course of my life.

While Father hawked his herbs and traded quartz with the man of the house, I happened across a data point. She too had lost her mother. The statistical odds of a pair of motherless Korainians were vanishingly small. And yet, against all probabilistic expectations, we’d crossed paths.

Her abstract existence had somehow intersected with my dirt-stained roots. Was it chance? Mutual gravitation? I couldn’t be sure. But I theorised: what if her home could become my home? Her father, a prototype for my manhood? My Mother’s vision of me, of who I could become, had never been more tangible. And that couldn’t have been a coincidence.

My hypothesis formed. Through Rainbow, I would transition into a brighter destiny. There was only one constant impeding that future: my inherited status as the herb-smuggler’s son. I refrained from direct contact. I ran simulations from afar, limited to distant observations via my Father’s routine deliveries.

All the while I improved academically. My scores surged. I was recognised as a rising star. Eventually, Father stopped mentioning my induction into the family trade. He redirected his recruitment efforts to the neighbour girl — Nelli. She became my intel source. A fellow researcher of sorts. From her, I acquired the painter’s name: Rainbow. I learned she was in Nelli’s birth group, just a cycle above mine. Those parcels of data informed me. They motivated my studies.

Finally, last eight, my brilliance was recognised: I was offered a full ‘Scientifics Scholarship’ to The University. My Mother’s vision was becoming reality. Soon, my destiny would be observable to all — everyone around me would at last see who I truly was. Only one last variable remained unconfirmed: proof, that Rainbow was my Soulmate.

Father, inadvertently, had the apparatus necessary for my objective — a rational basis for my proximity to Rainbow. In exchange for fulfilling his longstanding desire (my active participation in the family trade) I have, for several mornings now, been granted access to the subject of my interest.

However my observational window was closing. The University’s enrolment was less than an eight away. I’d have to admit — I had no intention of joining my family’s business. And so before then, while the conditions were still set, I had to begin the process. I had to make contact. Initiate my experiment. I had to let Rainbow know I even existed.

Nelli planted two stacks of herbs in my arms. “Come on, stargazer,” she scoffed. The weight was more than I expected (though Nelli inexplicably carried two stacks beneath each arm). I fell several steps behind her and my Father as they crossed the street. Which proved advantageous — it allowed me more time to think of an optimal introduction.

As we approached the immaculately arranged front garden, I positioned myself behind Nelli, using her as cover. Tilting my neck to the side, I tracked a clear visual of my presumed future soulmate: poised on the porch, wrist rotating with practiced fluidity, painting arcs in midair.

“Morning, Rainbow!” my father called out.

Rainbow looked up from her canvas. Her expression — beyond analysis. “Morning, Mister,” she said, quietly. An involuntary smile lifted my lips.

“Your Pa home?” Father asked, easing to a halt at the gate.

“No. He left me with the quartz for the herbs.”

“Fresh hemp root as always?”

“Yes,” she exhaled.

She placed aside her brush. Her eyes, a precise grey, flickered toward Father — but not me. Nelli chose that exact moment to offload both her trays onto my stack, obstructing our line of sight. The added mass forced me to lower the trays to the ground. Nelli emitted a brief snort, and I glared at her as she crouched to snip a few bunches.

Preserving my unstained tunic, I retreated two steps. Nelli flapped opened a paper bag and began sorting the roots. Once sealed, she darted to the gate and extended the parcel toward Rainbow — already descending the porch. I watched her accept the bag and slip it into a pocket in her smock. Then, she placed her impossibly dainty hand against the palm-scanner Father presented.

“Thank you, Rainbow,” Father said as the as the scanner emitted a bleep. He tipped his hat. “Say hello to your Pa for me. As always, I hope the herbs work as advertised.”

“Bye Mister, bye Nelli,” Rainbow waved with grace.

“See ya next time!” Nelli blurted.

I spun around inline with my Father and Nelli, my brilliant conversation starters going untested as we crossed back over the road. “Come on, come on, come on!” I muttered, looking down to my hands. “Just turn around and wave-”

Mid-step, I halted. Father proceeded toward the carriage. Nelli turned back, squinting at me. “Let’s go!” she hissed. “We have to hurry before we bump into the enforcer patrol, if they catch your father again they’ll double the payoff—” Nelli paused, scanning my hands. “Where are the trays?”

I pivoted. The trays were still there. And so was Rainbow.

“Don’t just stand there!” Nelli snapped. “Go get them!”

I shook my head decidedly. “I’m not going back now, Nelli! Do you expect me to march over there saying, ‘Sorry, I forgot my herb tray’? That cannot be the first impression she has of me!”

“Fine, I’ll get it,” Nelli huffed. “Don’t say I don’t do nothing for you!”
I hid behind the carriage as Nelli trudged back. She collected the trays. Then she went completely off task and initiated dialogue. I observed in shock as they began speaking. Then Nelli lifted her hand and pointed at me. My heart rate spiked. Rainbow followed the motion —  and our eyes met.

“Son, what are you doing?” Father grunted, snapping my attention back to the present. He was reloading the trays. “And where on Uji is Nelli? I don’t pay that woman to-”

“I’m here, boss!” Nelli called, emerging from the opposite side of the carriage with the remaining trays. She rounded the vehicle and offloaded the herbs with minimal care. “Let’s go already!” she barked. Father let out a low chuckle and climbed into the driver’s seat. Nelli vaulted into the back compartment. I followed her, narrowing my eyes in her direction as she adjusted the trays on her lap.

“What did you say to Rainbow?” I demanded, strapping myself in. “Correction — explain why you said anything at all!” Before I could extract her response, Father cracked the whip. The carriage jolted forward. Every herb tray tilted on its axis just to the point of tipping, then clattered back down again. “Nelli, why did you point at me?” I pressed, insistent. “ You said something horrible, didn’t you? You compromised the-”

“She said yes,” Nelli interjected.

I halted my breath. “She — she said what now?”

Nelli shrugged in reply (and in the process, dragged the end of her matted braid into the dirt-filled tray on her lap). I raised a brow and flicked her hair out of the soil. She glanced my way. Still, no elaboration. So I elbowed her in the side.

“Ouch! Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what happened at your Maturity Ball last night.”

“You are so petty,” I scoffed at her, flicking her braid again. “I made one joke about your Maturity Ball a cycle ago, and you’ve been waiting for mine ever since. Sorry to disappoint, but no — I did not drink myself into impaired cognitive function and test my luck with two random Korainians on my first night as an adult.”

“Blowhole,” Nelli muttered under her breath.

“How does stating facts make me a Blowhole? If you hadn’t done it, there would be nothing to comment on. Don’t vent your frustrations on me because you miscalculated-”

“Not everything’s gotta be calculated cycles in advance,” Nelli huffed, gripping the trays on her lap as my Father’s shoddy carriage shook on its uneven axels. “Some plot you got, gawking at a girl from a road away like you’re staring into a celestial body. I mean, she’s just a Korainian for stars sake!”

“Why do you care what I classify as celestial! What? Are you — jealous?”

“Jealous! Please, its pity! Bet you won’t even know what to do when it’s time!”

“Stars, do you have to be so vulgar? I’ve read the handbook. I’m aware of the technical aspects. Rainbow is my Soulmate, The Universe will guide me—”

“So The Universe is a perverted peeper?” Nelli cackled over me.

“Stars, you know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t think them things! You need to see an Elder, boy! That’s some dirty stuff! I’m pretty sure a woman like Rainbow wouldn’t be into it!”

Nelli went on cackling for a whole minute, then continued to ridicule me for a further three. I let it happen — as recompense. Though I could tease her for it now, at the time Nelli was the joke of The Pits. The new-adult who ‘got too carried away and had their hopes rejected twice in one night’. Of course memories fade, so the crowd moved on. My Father hiring her had also helped — Korainians in our region respected him, for some reason.

Despite Nelli’s flippancy, I suspected the events still bothered her. Nelli had been the girl down the road for most of my life. I’d observed her long enough, and collected enough data, to predict her thoughts with decent precision. At some point, our proximity had caused a sentimental bias to creep in (like in the way a researcher grows attached to a test subject). So when her deflections finally ran out, I turned toward her with a well-calibrated look of sympathy.

“I was being a Blowhole, bringing up your Maturity Ball,” I admitted.

She glanced at me, shrugged. “Like you said, if I hadn’t done it there’d be nothing to laugh at,” she conceded. “I guess, sorry for taking an interest in your life,” she sarcastically counter-apologised. “I’m a good ear. Thought you might want someone to complain to, or something.”

I nodded. “The Ball went as I predicted. I ate well, danced with classmates, interacted with several Upper Regioners. There was a liberal amount of lemongrass wine, so it devolved into a hall of drunk new-adults quickly. By the end of the night there was a Redscale girl stood outside on a bench, screaming nonsense at the top of her lungs.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Nelli said, her tone shifting.

I looked her way. “What, was that?” I asked.

“What was, what?” she came back.

“That atypical tone?” I questioned, though she refused to elucidate. “Alright, don’t tell me. I don’t even care. Just, explain what happened with Rainbow—”

“She said yes to a date with you,” Nelli abruptly revealed. My hands lifted automatically, as if she had tried to assault me.

“Wha—what?” I stammered, disbelieving.

“Hey, I was just as surprised as you were!” Nelli huffed with extra phlegm. “I even pointed at you to make sure she knew who I was talking about, and she still didn’t spin fin and swim away.”

“Tell me you’re not joking,” I whispered, my cheek muscles twitching into a smile.

“There are three things I don’t joke with you about,” Nelli replied, raising a hand to count them off. “Your Mother, ya name, and Rainbow.”

“Rainbow wants to go on a date with me,” I whispered, the words becoming real. “Ha! Rainbow wants to go on a date with me!” I exclaimed. “Rainbow wants to — go on a date with me,” I finished, the words settling in.

Suddenly, the carriage swerved. The force sent Nelli crashing into me as we rounded a corner, and she spilled her tray of herbs across us both. She lifted her hands to hurriedly wipe away the debris, but I barely registered any of it. My mind was preoccupied: calculating all the complications that could interfere.

“Sorry, had to swerve an enforcer!” Father called from the front. “Herbs alright?”

“They’re fine, boss!” Nelli shouted back.

I blinked and looked across the carriage. My brows raised at the tens of tipped trays and dirt collected around my ankles. Panicked, Nelli signalled for my support. I shook my head at the sight, before eventually lowering to my knees to spend the rest of the journey scooping dirt and herbs back into their trays.

“Good run today, Nelli,” my father said as he jumped out of the carriage in front of our house. He pulled out the quartz terminal from his pocket, entered a few figures, and handed it to Nelli as she stepped down. “Take 700 quartz for today — you earned it!” he said, while Nelli grinned and placed her hand to the metal.

“Thanks, boss!” she smiled, stepping aside as I climbed out after her.

“Son, you’re a bit slow on the uptake,” Father continued, tapping on the terminal before offering it to me. “350 quartz seems fair?”

“Sounds about right,” I shrugged, since as far as I was concerned I had already been compensated. “Speaking of, Father,” I began, following him into the house as Nelli earned her quartz and began hauling in the unsold herbs, “I’ve been thinking — thanks for the opportunity, but I don’t think Herb-Smuggling’s for me.”

My father glanced my way, his brow raised as he sat at the kitchen and living room table. “What’s brought this on?” he chuckled, clearly in denial. “You were just saying last eight you wanted to try—”

“I know what I said,” I interrupted, taking a seat on the kitchen side of the table; “but I’ve been considering my options, and Herb-Smuggling just isn’t the right fit.”

Father raised his sweaty black brow at me. “The right, fit?” he echoed, reaching for the remote to adjust the programming box. “You sound like one of those Upper Regioners from the shows.” He shook his head, then his gaze glazed over as he stared into the screen. I observed him, watching the metal box, my peer moving between him and Nelli (who was still hauling trays through the house and into the backyard). After a few moments, it became clear the conversation had concluded.

“Great talk,” I muttered as I stood. “I’ll be at Nelli’s if you need me.”

“You will?” Nelli called from the backyard as she returned, her eyes widening when I started to leave. “Oh, uh, yeah, he will!” she added, hurrying out after me and calling a quick goodbye to my father. Nelli slid the door shut behind us, catching up halfway down the road. Blackscale children ran through the street, throwing rocks and chasing each other with sticks smeared in filth while their parents lounged in doorways. Drinking. Chatting loudly.

“I hate it here,” I muttered under my breath.

“What’s that?” Nelli asked, though I only shrugged at her when she did. “Ya know, your father would take you a lot more seriously if you just told him about your scholarship,” she said, boldly submitting her hypothesis. “Right now, he thinks you’re just being stroppy. He doesn’t get that you really could leave The Pits—”

“I am leaving The Pits,” I said, stepping aside as Nelli swerved around me to open her front door.

“Ma! Pa?” she called into the small space, before glancing back at me.

“They must have taken Tiffi to school already.”

“Good,” I said, ducking in through the doorway and heading straight for Nelli’s room. “I need quiet to think!” I called over my shoulder. I pushed aside Nelli’s bedroom curtain and took one short step inside her tiny room. I dropped myself onto her waterbed, and Nelli stepped in after me and tilted her head.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable,” she huffed, manoeuvring around my legs and hopping onto the windowsill. “So then,” she continued, pulling out a small pail of alcohol,“what are you scheming now?”

“I don’t scheme,” I grinned.

“You’re a joke,” Nelli laughed, kicking out her leg.

I batted her foot away. “Little early for a drink isn’t it?” I jeered.

“Little early for a drink isn’t it,” she mimicked in a dumb voice, both of us chuckling at the joke at my expense. Nelli took another swig, then lowered her pail. “Hmm, so I’m guessing this scheme is Rainbow related.”

“Don’t say it like that,” I sighed. “You need to roll the ‘R’, like R-R-R-Rainbow.”

“Ra-ra-Rainbow,” Nelli attempted.

“Abysmal,” I laughed.

“Suck my balls,” she shot back.

“Stars, when will I get more sophisticated friends,” I sighed, before swiftly moving on. “So when is my date with Rainbow?”

“Er, few hours I think,” Nelli returned.

I scoffed, assuming she was joking. “You’re, not joking?” I eventually caught on.

“I already said I don’t joke about Rainbow with you,” she shrugged. “Anyway, there’s no time like the present!”

“Time is literally the measurement of existence after and before the present!” I snapped, surging to my feet as I began pacing.

“Boy, you look so stupid,” Nelli chuckled; “you’re practically spinning in circles-”

“Shh!” I hissed, holding my hand up to her face as I continued pacing. “I don’t have nearly enough data on Rainbow’s likes and dislikes! How can I develop the perfect date when I don’t have the facts and only a few hours-”

“Forget perfect!” Nelli scoffed, cutting me off. “You’re clearly making a big catch out of a little one! Listen, I’ve been helping your father deliver herbs to that house for almost a cycle and all that woman ever does is paint. Boring, if you ask me. But you didn’t so, fair enough. I mean, I don’t get what you see in her, but I’ll admit I got interested a little while back. Which is when I started asking her questions—”

“You’ve spoken with Rainbow?” I gasped, interrupting Nelli’s tipsy ramblings.

“Of course I have!” Nelli slurred back. “I’m like, the only Korainian besides your father and her father that she has regular contact with! What? You think she said yes to a date with you because of your tray-holding skills? She’s doing this off my recommendation!”

“Why would Rainbow listen to your recommendation? You’re lying—”

“How many times have I got to tell you!” Nelli clapped, her hands forming pinching positions. “Get it through your big mathematics-genius head, I don’t joke with you about Rainbow!”

“Technically, The University labeled me a scientifics genius,” I corrected; “though mathematics is one of my stronger subjects—”

“Can you stop blowing your own hole for a second to listen to me?” Nelli huffed, and I nodded (since she was right). “So here is my, as you would say, ‘hypothesis'. Rainbow’s Father works in The Government, which is interesting considering he buys illegal medicinal herbs. He must really need them. So are they for him, or Rainbow? And is it related to her Mother’s untimely death? Couldn’t find out. Anyway, I think his Soulmate dying young made him real paranoid. I mean, he’s so possessive over Rainbow she’s been trapped like a fish in a tank since she turned adult last cycle. She barely leaves the house! Classic case of a sheltered upbringing!”

I tilted my head. “Interesting. Got any proof beyond conjecture?”

“Conject-what?”

“Guesswork?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nelli snorted, taking a swig of wine before going on. “She told me the only reason she can go out today is because her father’s been working long hours at The Ovum lately. But he still checks in on her during his midday break, so you have to get her back home before then.”

“Done. I wouldn’t want to upset the future father-by-soulmate anyway, that would be a huge miscalculation,” I reasoned, though when Nelli snorted at me I deduced she was amused by something I’d said. “What is it now?” I snapped.

“Oh nothing,” she shrugged, leaning against her window. “Just, for a scientific guy you’ve got a lot of belief in this 'Rainbow is my Soulmate’ theory.”

“Well, some phenomenons exceed the logic of a single Korainian. Like destiny.”

“Wanna know what I think?”

“Not really—”

“I think!” Nelli went on, speaking over me; “I think, that you reckon Rainbow is so special because you don’t know her. You haven’t done your ‘data collection’ thing, so you don’t understand why she is the way she is. I mean, why would you? She’s a city-born Upper Regioner that spends all day painting! That’s so different from what we’re both used to, no wonder you think she’s out of this world.”

I lowered my chin toward Nelli. “Are you done?” I asked, waiting until she nodded. “Thank you for the unsolicited theory,” I sarcastically replied; “but out of the two of us, I argue I have a better understanding of my thought processes than you do.”

“Fair nuff!” Nelli conceded, swigging yet again.

“Right then,” I sighed, sitting down on her bed. “Back to the problem at hand, what else do you know about Rainbow?”

“Well — I’ve collected some data,” Nelli snidely replied. “Don’t say I never do nothing for ya! Rainbow’s in my birth group, but she’s got the mentality of a fresh new-adult so your inexperience might just go unnoticed—”

“Oh, ha ha,” I scoffed.

“She likes seeing things through someone else’s eyes,” Nelli pushed on. “She’s the artistic type, but she likes the finer things too. She complained to me once that her father wouldn’t buy her these expensive paints, made of oil or something. You’d think with all those funds they’ve obviously got, living in a house that nice, her father could spare the quartz.”

“He’s frugal and fiscally responsible,” I defended. “You don’t get rich by wasting quartz. Take me, for example, I’ve been saving since I got my biometrics account at eleven cycles, and now I have over 17,000 quartz to my name.”

“Good for you,” Nelli shrugged. “But the alternative is just getting a job.”

“Jobs are for individuals without prospects. I want a career. Preferably in The Government, like Rainbow’s father.”

“Alright, traitor,” Nelli snorted; “just don’t turn your own father in!”

We continued, jeering, bantering, wisecracking, and calculating. Nelli made every inappropriate joke she knew, and I used up every scoff I had. But somehow, after an hour of arguing and theorising, we managed to come up with a plan that was as close to perfect as anything could be. Or at least, as perfect as you could get with only an hour of preparation.

Our observations indicated that Rainbow had experienced a highly sheltered upbringing. She exhibited a distinct affinity for art and had limited social interactions with other Korainians. From this, we derived the conclusion that Rainbow could use a fun day out. In theory, our interactions would unfold in one of two ways:

‍

Theory A: Every action I took would be perceived as impressive, given Rainbow’s infrequent interactions.

Theory B: The overwhelming stimuli from the outside world would cause Rainbow to overlook any potential mistakes I might make.

‍

Ultimately, no matter how many preliminary ‘day-dates’ and observational tests were needed, I knew my hypothesis would be confirmed by Law. The Soulmate Law. Excited for the launch of my experiment, I sprinted back down the road to bathe and put on my best shirt-pant duo. Father laughed at me when I exited my room (but considering he had a sauce stain the size of a stab wound on his shirt, I didn’t much care for his mocking).

Dodging Lower Region kids with their poop-sticks, I hopped on an early morning shuttle back up the regions. It was unusual, traveling to the border of the Mid Region and waiting at the connecting shuttle stop — surrounded by uniformed non-adults heading to school. Especially since, just the day before, I would have been doing the same.

I stared at my ‘A’ mark until the next shuttle arrived. Once it did, I took a seat and studied the scar some more. It was official. I was now an adult. An adult, about to go on his first date. A date that would surely lead to 5 to 7 more dates, which would inevitably end in a glow. Because Rainbow was my Soulmate. Just as destiny had plotted.

Repeating the words helped calm me, and I kept repeating them all the way up until I had reached the impressive residence Rainbow called home. I paced the pavement on the opposite side of the road for 3 minutes, trying to calm my nerves. “Rainbow is my Soulmate,” I said to myself. “It is inevitable, and you can’t delay the inevitable.” I took a deep breath, crossed the road, and unlatched the front gate.

“Noooooo!” I heard a voice whisper from above.

I instinctively looked up. Then I saw her. Rainbow. Leaning out of a second floor window, actually speaking — to me.

“Do not ring the doorbell, my Father checks the logs!” she went on whispering, her blonde hair cascading across her face. I blinked at the surreal sight. Took a moment to recalibrate. Following her instructions, I secured the gate and stepped back. Maintaining eye-contact the whole while.

“What now?” I whispered up.

“Now, stay there,” she called — and with that her blonde head vanished from view.

“Wow,” I muttered to myself. “That’s my future Soulmate.”

My peer dropped to the front door as a bolt sounded, and the door slid open. Rainbow emerged from the threshold, spinning elegantly as the door slid closed behind her. I took in every detail. Her small feet, laced in silk heeled-sandals. The multicoloured dress she wore. The knitted jacket draped over her shoulders that allowed her arms to swing free. The small, circular bag hung across her form.

She approached the gate, shutting it behind her with careful precision. “What are you waiting for?” Rainbow asked, her voice charged with energy. My jaw involuntarily dropped as she seized my handed tugged me along with surprising strength. I stumbled, following her to the next street over.
“That was close!” she whispered once we came to a halt. My pupils widened as I met her deep grey eyes. Stimulated. “You have great timing! The neighbours just left for work, and the stay-at home-Soulmates should be engrossed in their Soul Search repeats by now.”

“Soul Search,” I whispered, vaguely recalling the Ovum-sponsored show. “My father watches that occasionally.”

Rainbow lifted onto her tiptoes. She peered left. She peered right. “This is wild,” she whispered. “THIS IS WILD!” she suddenly yelled. A shocked breath left me as a cute squeal left her. She spun in place, and the hem of her dress rose to her upper thighs. “Aaah! Wow!” she exclaimed, pulling down the fabric. “This is exhilarating,” she whispered, her eyes lifting to me as if she had only just recalled I was there.

“Hello, I’m Rainbow,” she said, her voice like chimes.

I blinked in response, struggling to believe that she was real — and really speaking, to me. “Oh, I know who you are,” I finally replied. “I’m, um, really not sure where to begin? Perhaps you could share what Nelli has already told you about—”

Before I could complete the sentence, Rainbow pivoted in a perfect circle and proceeded down the road. “Wa-wait!” I called after her, breaking into a short run. “Rainbow? What’s the hurry?” I asked as I caught up. Her eyes briefly flashed to mine. Then she stopped in the road, and I halted as well.

A look of intrigue crossed her small features. Her grey eyes swept me, assessing me head to toe. I adjusted my posture, standing a little taller and straighter — representing myself accurately. Seizing the moment, I decided to ratify my observations. “You don’t get out much, do you?” I inquired (never mind the nervous sweat on my palms).

Rainbow peered at me, her lip drawn in as she sucked her bottom lip. My eyes fixated on the motion — the soft flesh folding inward, then slowly emerging again, glistening slightly. The way it held my attention felt, significant. I couldn’t quite explain why. It left my mind blank. Thinking of nothing. Only staring at her. Until she softly shook her head.

Reason returned to me. “Don’t worry,” I said, locating my voice. “That’s why I’m here — to facilitate a fun day out.”

“That would be nice,” she replied, as I keenly listened. “But there just isn’t time.”

“We still have ten hours before midday break, and there’s always tomor—”

“I want to do everything,” Rainbow interrupted. Her tone was clear, her grey eyes alight with unfiltered determination. The intensity of her declaration silenced me (despite her interruptions) and I couldn’t help but be captivated.

“Alright,” I agreed, unable to suppress a smile. “Then let’s do everything.”

We caught a shuttle into the City Centre — a new experience for Rainbow. She informed me all her prior travel had been restricted to private carriages. Soon, it became evident that ‘Theory B’ had prevailed: as the novelty of the public shuttle entirely absorbed her attention for the duration of the journey. Consequently, she didn’t notice my own distraction. Namely, how much I was gawking at her.

Staring at her was my form of exposure therapy. Gradually, it lessened the intensity of my physiological response. By the time we disembarked, I had stared at her long enough that the mere sight of her face no longer left me stammering. Which meant, I could at last hold a conversation without being cognitively impaired by her beauty.

We entered a café Rainbow was drawn to: bright signage, aggressive colour palette, with a sugary menu serving dopamine. Once seated in a booth, Rainbow ordered one of everything from the break-fast menu. Assuming I would be settling the bill, I did some quick mental calculations. It would be manageable. Barely. Even so, I involuntarily flinched each time a new dish came out of the kitchen and landed on our table.

“So fluffy,” Rainbow whispered, staring into a cross-section of her pan-cakes.

“It’s the gluten protein,” I replied. Her grey eyes shifted toward me. “Well, partly. Proteins provide structural integrity. Leavening agents produce air pockets. Starch stabilises, allowing vertical rise. Fats introduce moisture, while the emulsifiers in egg yolks unify the texture. That’s how you get that fluffiness.” I halted there to take a bite out of my toast.
“Are you training to be a baker or something?” I heard Rainbow query.
“Or something,” I answered with a smirk. “I’m kinda a scientifics genius.”
“So you’re a smart-mouth, huh?”

My eyes snapped to her. “Um, I — what?”

“It’s fine, smart-mouth,” she shrugged, sipping her neon-pink smoothie. “I knew a lot of boys like you back in school.”

Embarrassment rose within me. I cleared my throat. Rainbow had assessed me correctly: I had, indeed, been flexing my biggest muscle. My brain. Although, under current conditions, it appeared to be malfunctioning. I could not think of a response. Not while she was sat across from me, delicately licking blended fruit from the brim of her glass. Flicking her tongue with precision.

The look of her was, unquantifiable. The equations required to deconstruct her beauty had yet to be discovered. I observed her there, seated opposite me in the booth, her cheek resting in one hand, her drink in the other, gazing out the window — and I realised. I was beholding art. Pure art. A masterpiece. Instinctively, I understood. Applying logic to a masterpiece was — pointless. And wasteful.

We each ate a considerable amount, which still left half a table’s worth of food untouched. Rainbow excused herself for the bathroom just as the bill arrived. Whether it was a calculated move or a coincidence, it hardly mattered. From a logical perspective, any self-respecting suitor would cover the bill on a first date. Demonstrating I could provide was essential — in fact, in my hypothesis, it was directly linked to proving our compatibility.

I told myself that ten times over when the waitress handed me a receipt that read 3,889 quartz. “Fish,” I huffed (just like Nelli might), frustrated by the accuracy of my own calculations. “It’s just quartz,” I said, scrunching up the receipt with resolve. “What’s a few thousand quartz in the way of destiny? Nothing — totally nothing. Don’t think of it as eights of savings wasted on half-eaten food, think of it as-”

Tap. Tap — tap. I turned to the window, and gasped. Rainbow stood outside, smiling at me. Her grin had a paralysing effect. I sat there for several seconds. Studying her. The windy morning whipped her blonde hair into her face, and as she pushed the strands aside, her glossy lips moved. ‘What are you waiting for?’ she said, slowly backing away.

I stood immediately. I dashed out of the restaurant, catching up to her as she skipped down the street. Rainbow slowed at the corner, laughing (giggling) wildly. She peered over my shoulder, back the way we came, before grabbing my hand and taking us off into a run.

“I’ve always wanted to do that!” she yelled as we raced through City Korai streets.

“Do what?” I asked, panting.

“Run out on a bill!” she whispered conspiratorially.

A scoff escaped me, involuntary and delayed. We slowed to a halt several streets away. Only then did I begin to process events. I glanced at the glass-fronted building besides us, discovering our distorted reflections. Through the glass, I observed Rainbow: tiptoeing, scanning the perimeter to ensure we hadn’t been followed. Automatically, a feeling of panic rose in my chest.

Then Rainbow flexed her fingers. And I recalled. Rainbow was holding my hand. I lowered my gaze to confirm it. There it was. Her dainty palm, enclosed in mine. The sight activated every cell in my body. A single conclusion formed in my mind — accompanying Rainbow, even into minor criminality, had resulted in the best possible outcome. A morally ambiguous outcome, perhaps. Still, one with a significant plus in Soulmate probability.

“Smart-mouth, you alright?” I heard Rainbow ask.

I turned from a reflection, to the genuine article. It took me a moment to offer up a simple nod — a more complex calculation preoccupying my brain. Nelli and I had made a huge error. Our shared hypothesis had failed, my firsthand data having now confirmed that. As while it remained true that Rainbow appreciated art, and seldom ventured beyond familiar spaces, we had severely misinterpreted those facts.

Rainbow was not fragile. Rainbow was not timid, or shy. Rainbow was a confined, wild, beautiful being. A creature born to roam free, yet forced to stillness. A gorgeous, and captivatingly dangerous beast — like the predatory quadrupeds that stalked the foothills at the edges of Uji’s land.

Rainbow’s predatory grey eyes, locked onto my black eyes. My limbs stiffened. I stared into the fine-grain patterns in her irises. The refracted luminescence within them seemed to defy biology. Their depth captivated me. My mind quietened. Yet, my senses heightened. She stepped closer — and I experienced our closeness. Our temperature. Our slow breaths.

“You did say everything,” Rainbow whispered, her soft lips glistening.

My reflexes took over. I gulped. “You, um, mean — every — thing?”

She nodded, confirming. “Everything.”

Rainbow had a list — no, a scroll — of places to visit and things to do. We went to the flower market, the cheese market, and the fruit markets of the Upper Region. We visited the City Korai Central Park and got lost in the hedges. We stopped by a wine bar for two simultaneous tasting courses (at great cost to my savings) and we took a mixture of carriages and shuttles between each stop. Just six hours later, I was spent. But Rainbow, being the unpredictable element she was, was nowhere near done.

“I want to go to a special art exhibit at The Wellbeing Institute,” she whispered.

I fixated on her tongue, licking the iced cream of the dessert cone I’d purchased for her. My peer was involuntary, to my defence. The fault lay with biology. Hormones. Perhaps even, Korainian social conditioning. Still, I felt guilty for staring. For being evoked, stirred, by the image of her tongue — flicking.

“Sure,” I heard myself agree.

Rainbow glanced at me, pivoting ever so slightly on the bench we shared: tucked away in some random garden plaza I had followed her into. Upper Regioners on day trips lounged across the green, and children too young for schooling sprinted through the square, their gleeful laughter surrounding us. And at the centre of the sunny scene — Rainbow.

She opened her mouth and bit into her ice cream. Her face crinkled at the cold shock. Another involuntary reaction escaped me, a small laugh. I considered offering her an explanation (something about thermoreceptors and enamel erosion) but opted for silence. My reward was a singular sound. Rainbow, emitting a soft grunt.

“Ouch,” she murmured.

“Was eating ice cream on your list?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Such a smart mouth,” she said — and my smart mouth smiled. At least, until she dropped her next question. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

My body betrayed me. A scoff. Then another scoff, to mask the first. She observed me. Licked her ice cream again.

“Was that a no? ” she asked. “That’s a shame. Me neither.”

“I’ve read about it,” I replied embarrassingly quickly. “The Adulthood Handbook, I mean. I know the mechanics and—”

“I’ve imagined it,” Rainbow interrupted, her quiet words halting mine in an instant. “For the last cycle. A few times. I’ve thought of how it would feel to be kissed. Each time I imagined it became more — vivid.”

She glanced at me. “Vivid — is it?” I asked, whispering too.

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes fluttering closed. “At first, it was just lips on mine. Then, a hand on my back. Holding me in a kiss. Before long I was imagining what it would feel like if a man bent me—”

Rainbow gasped as I grabbed her. Her eyes blinked open. She looked down, and I did too — realising my hand was on her hand. No, not on her hand. Cupping her cone. I had intercepted, reflexively, stopping her ice cream from dripping down onto her pretty dress. Leaving my fingers, coated in the sticky substance.

“Sorry,” I offered, delayed. “I just didn’t want your dress to—”

I choked as Rainbow lifted my finger into her mouth. A full-body shiver trickled down my spine while her tongue traced my joints. Licking me clean. Her tongue moved deliberately, methodically. Her mouth — warm. She pulled my finger from her lips with a soft plop, then dropped my hand and casually returned to licking her cone.

“Should we get going?” she asked, standing. “I’ll be really sad if we miss the exhibit.”

It is, truly, a rare phenomenon when an individual’s body and mind align singularly on a specific task. Yet, that is what occurred when I hailed a carriage to The Wellbeing Institute — faster, I believe, than any other Korainian in recorded history. I had stomached the steep 280 quartz tariff (despite how reluctantly I’d submitted my palm) and fifteen minutes of intensely charged silence later, our carriage arrived at the destined location.

I had visited The Wellbeing Institute during a school trip cycles ago. That prior experience taught me to avoid the Emergency Incident Wing, and so I steered our steps to the peripheral buildings instead. The exhibit was in the furthest structure, decorated with banners proclaiming: ‘The City Korai Volcanis Art Exhibit, proudly sponsored by The Oolist Water Family’. Whoever they were, I appreciated their contributions to public culture — because Rainbow’s resulting glee truly made me feel like the luckiest man alive.

“What are you waiting for!” she called as she ran off, using one of her two known vocal settings — maximum volume. “Hurry up, smart-mouth!”
Inside the exhibit, Rainbow was a marvel to behold. She moved fluidly, gracefully sweeping through the gallery, identifying media, techniques, even artistic intentions — all without once consulting the information plaques. Sculptures, paintings, photo-captures. Her knowledge impressed me. I followed her at a slight distance, observing her curiosity. As she looped through the exhibit, again and again, I found myself wondering. How could someone so spontaneous exist — and more incredibly, exist in my orbit?

“Must be destiny,” I whispered aloud.

Rainbow spun, and beckoned me closer. “See that?” she whispered when I neared her. We stood before a large canvas as she moved her hand in a soft arc — tracing the shape of a coloured band painted into a pretty sky. “That’s a rain-bow,” she said.

“I thought, you were Rainbow?” I asked, glancing her way.

“This is the phenomenon I’m named for,” she replied, and I leaned in, awaiting every sound that escaped her lips. “My Mother died when I was young, barely three cycles, but I still remember the tale she would tell me of my name. It comes from an old Mountu tribestory of how the Mother isles were ravished with harsh weather conditions.”

“The Mother Isles floods in 211BL,” I added, pulling from my knowledge.

“Yes, those,” Rainbow confirmed. “But oral traditions are far more detailed than textbooks. In our tales, it wasn’t just a single cycle. The Mountu lands suffered ceaseless rain. Crops drowned. People starved. When our ancestors finally set sail, the rain followed them. They rowed in search of a new home, until their oars reached Uji. When they stepped onto this land the rain stopped. In the sky, there was an arc of colour in the shape of a bow. The elders said it was a sign from The Universe. That we had reached the promised land. They called it a rain-bow.”

A little breath escaped me, a gasp I hadn’t meant to release. “These days, it rarely rains on Uji,” Rainbow spoke on. “But mother said it rained the cycle I was born. She said she saw one with her own eyes, a rain-bow, and that it renewed her belief in The Universe. She believed I was her promised child. That naming me Rainbow was my—”

“Destiny,” I whispered, concluding for her.

Rainbow met my gaze. “Yes,” she said, her grey eyes like storm clouds.

“You might call me a smart-mouth for this,” I began; “but the phenomenon you’re describing is likely the result of a prism effect. A refraction of light through moisture in the air. Similar to the way sunlight makes ocean water appear blue, or how your eyes appear — infinitely deep. Scientifically speaking, your irises contain very little pigment. What I see is, refracted light. An optical illusion—”

“You think the depth in my eyes is a trick of the light?” Rainbow softly interjected.

“Technically speaking,” I whispered back, before admitting; “But, honestly, when it comes to you, there is so much science can’t explain.”

Rainbow raised her blonde brows, then sucked her pink lips. At me. Emotions, and hormones, surged. My mind quietened. Senses, heightened. Driven by instinct to do what I’d secretly wished I could for cycles — I leaned in.

Rainbow’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” I said, accomplishing just that — for a split second.

Rainbow withdrew swiftly. My head dipped through empty air, and I stumbled forward, off balance. I looked up, confused. Embarrassed. Rainbow looked back at me with a blank expression. Her expression, totally unreadable. Null. The silence between us thickened.

“Did I do something wro—”

Rainbow spun and walked off before I could finish. My chest constricted at the sight. My mind, like a malfunctioning processor, cycled through data, none of which explained her reaction. “No — no, no, no,” I stammered, watching her vanish out of the exhibit: my moment, my hypothesis, dissolving into obscurity with every step she took.

I strained to think, running calculations in my head, cycling through everything I knew about Rainbow until a solution finally surfaced. My eyes scanned the environment. Then I saw it: the gift shop at the back of the exhibit. I bolted inside, grabbed the priciest item I could find (a deluxe tin of oil paints) and paid the full 2000 quartz without hesitation.

Then I ran.

Out of the gallery.

Searching for Rainbow.

Finally, I tracked her down. She was hidden beside the main building, shrunken behind a shrub as she watched Korainians pass by. I approached her — carefully — like I was approaching a wild animal. Her grey eyes locked onto me, tracking my every movement. Slowly, I unwrapped my fingers from around the tin of paints.

“I got this for you, to paint your own rain-bow,” I said, voice low. Controlled.

Her eyes flicked down. Her expression softened. Rainbow lifted her hand, slowly, gently retrieving the expensive gift. She peered at me while she slipped the tin into her little shoulder bag.

“Thanks,” Rainbow whispered.

Instantly, my irregular pulse relaxed. “Of course,” I sighed, flooded with relief.

“Sorry for walking out. Speaking of my Mother makes me — sad.”
I registered her honest reply. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m sorry I tried to kiss you.”

Rainbow shrugged, biting her lip as her eyes welled up with tears. Then, she smiled faintly and rubbed her eyes dry. I observed her momentary sadness. Her momentary levity. Her emotions, coexisting in a way I somehow understood.

“My mother’s dead too,” I said.

Rainbow’s expression shifted with surprise.

“She passed four cycles ago,” I continued to explain, lowering my eyes. “Thinking of her, and what she wanted for me, her vision, it keeps me moving forward. Gives me something to aim for. But sometimes, even though I know it’s not logical, I wish, really hard on the stars, to The Universe, that she would just — reappear.”

“I do the same.”

I looked up, startled not just by Rainbow’s reply but also by her proximity. Stealthily, she had closed the distance between us. Her attentions, entirely focused my way. She now stood on the balls of her feet, almost tiptoeing, with a latent kinetic energy. A graceful, near animalistic, poised stance. Prepared to pounce.

“Do you think anyone can see us back here?”

My brows pulled together reflexively, reacting to her question with confusion. I turned my head, delayed, scoping out the environment. To the left: the stark wall of the adjacent building. Surrounding us: shrubbery. Behind me, several metres off: the entrance to the Emergency Incident Wing. We were somewhat visible. Inconsequently, to the preoccupied crowds around.

I faced her with my findings. “Nobody’s looking.”

Rainbow yanked at my shirt and pulled me into a kiss — commandeering my nervous system. Overriding everything. She gripped my hips as my heart leapt out of my chest. She shoved me. My back hit the wall. Her lips pressed against mine. My mouth moved on it’s own. Her tongue flicked inside of me. Then, a sharp sensation.

I pulled back — gasping for air. My brain staggered. I tasted something on my lips. Saliva? I lifted a hand to my mouth and discovered blood. My tongue swept and found a little laceration. Shocked, I looked to Rainbow’s pink lips — stained red — and I realised she had bitten me.

“What are you waiting for?” she gasped.

“Wha—what?” I gasped back.

“Let’s do it! Come on!” she urged, already reaching for my waistband.
I felt my brows fly off of my face as she began unbuttoning me. I twisted my head, looking over the shrubs to the busy Emergency Incident Wing entrance. A shriek escaped me just as Rainbow reached my final button.

“Wait — no! Please, stop!” I panted, heart pounding.

She didn’t stop. She reached into my pants and touched me. I gripped her wrist. Her eyes flashed to mine as I restrained her — then she flexed her fingers. A rough grunt that I couldn’t explain ripped from my throat. My eyes rolled into the back of my head.

“Does that feel good?”

“Stop — please!” I panted.

“You like it!” Rainbow giggled.

“This isn’t right, please! We can’t do this! Not here!”

“Why not? Because we’re outside? My home is nearby if you—”

“You’re insane!” I snapped.

Rainbow halted her movements. I opened my eyes, looked down. At her. Pressed against me. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Pulsing in my flesh. My skin prickled. Lips, tingled. My lower half stiffened — and I noticed without meaning to. Rainbow’s cheeks, flushed, glistening under a thin sheen of sweat. Unobstructed, I found her chest rising with rough breaths. Clear as day, I could see — she was aroused.

The signs were textbook. It wasn’t abstract, or poetic, or artistically transcendent. It was chemical. Hormonal. Empirically observable. For the first time, I saw Rainbow — not as the far-off and immutable celestial star I had long reached for. She was, just a woman. An intimacy-driven woman, succumbing to psychological desire.

‍

I hated seeing her that way.

‍

“We have to do this properly,” I said, pushing her off. “We need to do this right—”

“My stars!” Rainbow huffed, withdrawing from me. She adjusted her silk dress. Pulled her knitted jacket back into place. I studied her shifting expression while she wiped blonde strands from her forehead — her breaths slowly evening out. “We have less than three hours,” she sternly whispered. “You said everything—”

“I know. Just not here, alright? This isn’t how I imagined it would happen—”

Rainbow seized my hand without waiting for me to finish (yet again) and dragged me out of hiding along with her. We passed the Emergency Incident Wing, exited the grounds of The Wellbeing Institute, and emerged onto the main road. Rainbow hailed a carriage with ease, I paid — and we rode in silence.

When we arrived outside Rainbow’s large Upper Region home, neither of us spoke. But I had gawked as I followed her inside — stunned by the elegant wood and white interiors of her home. Her spiral staircase took us up, and up. She’d ushered me into her bedroom, then vanished to ‘erase some entry logs’. She returned with tea. Two cups on a delicate tray, which she set down on the side-table in her spacious room.

I cradled my cup with a shaky hand while I sat on the edge of her circular waterbed — surveying the environment. Plush soft furnishings. Clunky wooden easels. White walls, littered with abstract and colourful paintings. Rainbow took a seat across from me in her rocking chair. Yet it didn’t rock. She remained still. Tea in hand. Observing.

“You haven’t said anything smart in half an hour. Hope I haven’t broken you.”

“No,” I replied, almost reflexively. I took a steadying breath. “But, I’ll admit nothing about today went as planned. My calculations were, way off.”

Rainbow sipped. “You tried to calculate a date?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been waiting 244 days since I first saw you.”

Rainbow choked on her tea. Surprised. My resoluteness had affected her. Having countered her unpredictability, I felt reason return to me. Logic stirred. Perhaps that was the equation: I, the rational axis. She, the variable. The Universe — chaotic yet precise — had brought us together. Searching for balance. Requiring reason.

“I’m your Soulmate,” I said.

Rainbow tilted her head. Parted her lips. “What?”

“I am,” I repeated, grounding myself. “I’m your Soulmate, Rainbow.”

The theory had lived in me for cycles — like a volatile compound sealed under pressure. But now it was out. Declared. Released into open air, no longer constrained by social ethics or probability logic. I had run the data. Cross-referenced findings. I had felt it in the unquantifiable emotion she evoked and it was all the proof I needed.

“I know it sounds illogical,” I rationalised. “Even a little insane! But ever since I saw you three cycles ago, when my father delivered your herbs, it came over me like a shooting star! Something aligned! The Universe’s plan for me became clear and—”

“Alright,” Rainbow interrupted, shrugging.

“Al—alright?” I stammered. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, you’re here. And I want to be intimate with someone.”

Rainbow flung aside her tea cup. The dark substance sloshed over her white rug as she stepped towards me. She stripped off her jacket. Kicked off her shoes. Her fingers reached into her hair, pulling it back, as her other hand found the hem of her dress and lifted. In one fluid motion, the fabric rose — past her thighs, her abdomen, over her head. Leaving her naked, right in front of me.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, whispering those exact words again.

Except now, after everything, hearing those words — like this — was utterly surreal. Seeing her soft skin, so smooth — no, flawless. Like a white sheet. Her waist, narrow with an unnaturally deep curve to her natural hips as if an hourglass. Her legs, long and short. Toned and plump. And her breasts (stars!) two perfect suns symmetrically balanced, upturned for my eyes only.

“Rainbow,” I said, in awe of her body.

“What is it, smart-mouth?” she whispered, sucking her bottom lip.

She was radiant, A living contradiction. My brain buzzed. All the theories, the calculations, the careful plotting of this moment — hit me. I was at the culmination of everything I’d studied. Every page of every textbook. Every day spent plotting, calculating, observing. With the blinding reality stood just before me, only then did I realise. My theory, of Rainbow, and our inevitable Soulmate connection? It was just that. A theory.

There was no scientific basis. It was a belief. A motivational construct — something I had used to drive me out of The Pits, just as my mentally ill mother had envisioned. Now, faced with the opportunity to test my theory, there were two possible outcomes.

‍

One: my theory was correct, and became Law.

Two: I was wrong, and there was no destiny propelling me into a starry life.

‍

This was the moment. The moment that would either confirm or negate everything I believed. The scientifics I trusted. The visions I hoped were true. And yet, it didn’t feel anything like I expected. So — I didn’t test my hypothesis. I did nothing (other than offend Rainbow when I fled from her bed) terrified of the result I didn’t want to know.

I ruined it. All those cycles of careful data collection? Wasted. On the way to The Pits, I recalled every moment with Rainbow in my mind: conducting a silent postmortem, analysing each word, every gesture, our interactions. Trying to distill meaning from it all. Until my calculations led me to her door.

I knocked twice, methodically. The door swung open, revealing Nelli’s mother. She allowed me entry, and I made my way through the poky house to Nelli’s room. I pulled back the curtain and found her sitting on the windowsill (wearing the oversized shirt she usually kept under her overalls) a pail of wine loosely grasped in her hand. She peered outwards, beyond the small houses of The Pits, towards the fields bordering The Colony Outlands.

I sat down on the edge of her waterbed. She didn’t acknowledge me. Minutes of silence passed before I spoke. Then, I began to recount everything. My date with Rainbow. The highs, the lows, the awkward. Nelli didn’t react. She kept her focus on the scene outside her window, her mind seemingly processing other things

“So,” Nelli said, at last speaking up.

“So,” I replied, waiting for her analysis.

“She was right there, yeah?” Nelli sighed, her slow words inspired by the wine in her grip. “She had her cute chest staring right at you, pretty grey eyes looking your way, blonde hair spilling down her back. And you didn’t test her.” Nelli let out her signature huff, then lifted her wine pail to her lips. “Gotta hand it to you, not many Korainians could turn that kinda setup into a failed test—”

“I didn’t fail,” I corrected. “I just, skipped out on the exam. You’d know about that.”

Nelli raised her brows at me, unimpressed, and drained the rest of the wine before looking my way. Her gaze was unflinching. “Explain yourself,” she said.

“You first,” I shot back. “Why’ve you been drinking so much today?”

“To forget.”

“Forget what?”

“That blowhole of a boring story you just told me!” Nelli spat, taking another swig. I observed her as she winced, her red wine overflowing and spilling down her shirt. “Suffering stars,” she muttered, rubbing at the stain spreading across her (ample) chest. Her wavy black hair fell across her face like a veil. Dark. Alluring.

I studied her in silence. Trying to figure out what on Uji — what in the stars — was going on inside my head. “I think I stopped because I realised something,” I admitted out loud. Nelli paused her rubbing and looked at me. Midday sun rays bled through the window behind her, casting her in shadows. In light.

“You were right, Nelli,” I said.

She didn’t reply.

“You know me,” I continued to speak. “Better than I know myself. It’s true, I revered Rainbow. I observed her from a distance, intrigued, because she was an anomaly. But once I was close enough to know her — really know her — I realised. Nothing would match the vision of our future I had in my mind. I was scared to be wrong. So, I didn’t test my luck.”

“Wow,” Nelli said, with that special huff of hers.

“It’s messed up, I know. I’m a blowhole.”

It was quiet then. “Hey, you just, worked yourself up,” Nelli eventually said. I glanced back at her. She dropped down from her windowsill. “Go back. Say you’re sorry. Try again. She almost let you once, so she probably likes you! She’s a shut-in with no other dating prospects, she’ll definitely let you test—”

“What if I don’t want to test her!” I said, meeting Nelli’s black eyes with my own. “What if I don’t want what I thought I did? What if I want something that—”

I didn’t finish the words. Nelli stood one step away, bathed by light. I studied her. Truly, studied her. Her dark hair, unbraided. Free-flowing. The geometry of her full body. The tension-strained fabric tracing the curves of her chest and hips. Then — a shift. Nelli’s worn waterbed waved as she straddled my lap. Her breath hitched in that familiar way, her lips blurring as she adjusted her hips.

“I’m really drunk,” she informed me.

“Do you make all your intimate choices while inebriated?” I asked. My hands, semi-autonomously, rose to rest lightly on her thighs. Her skin was warm. Slightly flushed. Pinkish. Delicate. I gripped her and her skin dimpled around my fingertips. She sighed deeply, and I found it all — all of her — fascinating.

“Scion,” she breathed, invoking my name.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “You know I hate my name.”

“But why, Scion?”

“Because it’s all I’ll ever be.”

“And what is that?”

“A son,” I said quietly. “The offshoot of a — herb-smuggler.”

“You know what,” Nelli murmured, closing in, her breath brushing mine. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

She lowered her lips and I — pulled away. I pulled away? I stopped her. Before our lips made contact. Nelli gazed at me. Aroused? Confused. She questioned my withdrawal but — I didn’t have an answer for my actions. Or rather, inaction. I lacked the language to articulate how I felt. Because I didn’t know how I felt. Then it was silent. For 42 seconds.

My hand fell away as Nelli rolled off me and onto her waterbed.

“Go back to her,” she said.

I glanced over my shoulder to where she laid, folded in on herself.

“You’ll never be able to accept this place, Scion,” she gulped, and I flinched at the name she used against me. “If I let myself be with you, and The Universe denied our fortunes, I don’t think I’d recover. I care about you. I have, for cycles. But, I’ve seen you change. I see how you look at our neighbours, the Korainians you grew up with. In your eyes I’ll only hold you back. Even if we glowed together you’d grow to hate me for keeping you here. That’s why your mother self-slaughtered — she couldn’t live in The Pits any longer.”

A tear I didn’t authorise came out of me.

“Your father’s a real kind man, and I’m a real devoted woman, but individuals like us ruin individuals like you. Individuals with, vision. I don’t think like that. That I’m — destined for something else. I’m happy here. Drinking wine. Delivering herbs. But you’re not.”

Nelli sniffled to herself (letting out some unauthorised tears of her own) and roughly swiped her cheeks. “Even if Rainbow ain’t like you calculated. So what! That don’t mean you get to come back here, to someone you’ve already figured out. Maybe you need a — what do you call it? A ‘variable’? Maybe that’s what The Universe has destined for you. Or maybe, you’re just some new-adult from The Pits.”

“Why would you say that?” I gulped, crying. “That’s not who I am.”

“Then go be someone else,” she sniffed.

Nelli turned away. Her long black hair obscured her tears. The image stayed with me: even as I stood and left her behind, like she clearly wanted me to. Because it was true. If I was anything like my mother, like Nelli had theorised, then I had to get out. Yes, staring down the possibility that I — everything I believed I was destined for — might be wrong, was devastating. Enough so that I’d run from it, hoping I’d never have to find out.

Yet Nelli, she had reminded me. In her uniquely inelegant and beautifully blunt way, she had stated a searing scientific truth. Inevitabilities were just that. Inevitable. Sooner or later, I’d get sick of the Pits. I already had. I’d already plotted my escape. The University. A Soulmate. And by the stars, no matter how many tests it took — I was going to confirm Law.

“Rainbow!” I called.

Voice raw, breath uneven.

I stood beneath her bedroom window.

I had depleted my last quartz on two shuttles and a carriage, clawing my way back to the Upper Region. The sun hovered just shy of Midday. I had mere minutes before Rainbow’s father would return home for his midday break — but I didn’t care. If it was ever going to happen, there was no time like the present.

My head snapped to the front door as a bolt sounded. The door slid open. Rainbow stuck her blonde head out of the doorway and peered at me. “What are you waiting for!” I yelled at her — tipping my head as I crossed over to the passageway besides her house. Moments later, she came to meet me in the shadow of her home.

I bent her over and did what (until that moment) I had only known in theory. She panted as I rocked with her. One hand against the wall, the other gripping the back of her neck — I squeezed her while she groaned. My hand slipped to her mouth to keep her quiet. She licked my fingers. Bit my hand.

Tension mounted. Dopamine built. I reached an apex I could have never possibly imagined as a guttural roar escaped me. I lost control of myself. My body jutted against Rainbow and she collapsed. Knees to the ground, trembling. I followed — falling back against the wall and sliding downwards, down. My bare bottom hit the grassy ground.

“Woah,” I heard Rainbow say.

I turned to her. She sat upright, lifting her glowing hair from her flushed and sweaty face. The blonde strands pulsed vibrantly in the shadow of the passageway. I observed the phenomenon.

“Bioluminescence,” I identified. “That’s what it is, the glow. Living tissue emitting visible light.”

“Looks like I really am your Soulmate,” Rainbow blinked. She peered at me. I peered at her. “Smart-mouth,” she began again, addressing me without knowing my name. Without knowing anything about me. “How does it feel to be proven right by The Universe?”

I observed her.

Her glow already fading.

Retreating from the fibres of her being like a system powering down.

“It feels like destiny,” I concluded. “And it’s — exactly like I calculated.”