post-punk/goth/coldwave/dream pop (Molchat Doma, Peremotka, Cocteau Twins, etc.)
biblical/religious imagery/symbolism/aesthetics
Maxim Matveev ahehehe and his movies/shows (Demons 2014, Hipsters, Vice, Mosgaz, Union of Salvation, and Mata Hari)
Project Hail Mary (2026)
Lars and the Real Girl (2007)
interact with me on twitter!
my AO3 :)
crime and punishment
Making Raskolnikov's Birth Chart
the brothers karamazov
Making the Karamazov Brothers' Birth Charts: Pilot Test #1
note on sending asks
i welcome most things in my ask box, but please be advised that i hold the prerogative to ignore/decline to answer your ask if it makes me feel uncomfortable. if you're coming to my ask box to harass/insult me/my work, you better do it with that anonymous button turned off. if you have the gall to say those things to me, you should also be brave enough to let other people know who you are and that you speak that way to strangers online.
FAQ
Do you really like Stavrogin even after knowing what he did to Matryosha?
the only reason why i "like" him is because he's portrayed by Maxim Matveev. you won't see me talking about any other Stavrogin of the other adaptations of the book, because i only like Matveev's version, and because it's MATVEEV. i like Matveev. he's just objectively hot in my eyes. Stavrogin, the character, can go burn in hell for all i care. i think he's interesting and fun to analyze and write, but that doesn't necessarily mean that i condone the things he did. he still disgusts me. i want him to suffer.
Why do you not write for XYZ ship?
if i don't write about it = i'm not into it that much. that's it.
[anything regarding hot takes about Demons by Dostoevsky]
i don't post or hint about hot takes anymore on any of my public accounts.
Omg imagine lars getting jealous when you're talking to someone and the person is getting a little too comfortable around you and he happens to be there to see it so he just literally picks you up, puts you over his shoulder, and carries you away <33
he'd be sulking when you two are alone and would want to be reassured that you only love him... or he'd interrogate you (while still sulking) and make you promise never to talk to that person again
Finished my Human Rocky and Adrian designs :) I was very inspired after seeing how much Eridian culture is based on real-world African practices so I wanted to drive that home and make more people aware. Their outfits are heavily based on Masaai, Afar, and other Nihlotic groups in the Sahel region (my people)!
thinking about blowing Ryland Grace for the first time... (mdni)
you pull Grace into your room as you two make out, your feet barely tracking the right path to take as you're both wrapped in each other's taste and scent. he's got his hands on your waist and yours in his soft blonde hair; he's devouring you and you're drinking him in just as much.
the back of his knees hit the bed, and he tumbles onto the mattress backwards; you follow, sinking down to kneel between his thighs as he sits up. his glasses are askew. a hand reaches up to fix them on the bridge of his nose when he realizes the position that you're in.
Grace blinks at you; wide-eyed and flustered. you meet his eyes and you smile at him. your hands are already following the material of his belt beneath the dorky science joke shirt he's got under his cardigan.
"can i?" you ask. Grace swallows the lump in his throat, feeling his cock twitch beneath his jeans. he shifts on the bed as he props himself up by his palms. he nods.
you take your time undoing the buckle, not wanting to make any unnecessary movements to agitate Grace. you could tell he's mentally walking on a tightrope, and by your infinite mercy, you exercise enough benevolence to not let him tip over just yet. you pull the belt off and set it beside him, and your fingers work on unfastening the button and zipper of his jeans.
black boxer briefs. Grace shivers when he feels you creep up under his shirt, just enough to grasp the hem of his jeans and tugging it down to signal that you wanted this off him. you know he's smart; he gets the message right away and lifts his hips so you can slide the material off his legs. the denim pools at his ankles. you free them from the piece of clothing, and now you're left to marvel at how smooth and flushed the skin of his milky thighs is; your hands caress the heated flesh as you inch closer and closer to where he's been aching. your eyes flit to his face. God, Grace is so pretty. so, so pretty.
Grace had been panting the moment you sank down before him, and even more now as you approach his cock straining at the material of his underwear. he breaks and lets out a moan when you palm him through the fabric; his hips instinctively jerking up to chase and obtain more of that friction. he's so embarrassed by how easily he's growing pliant at such a simple teasing act. the darkening patch gives away the precum that's been leaking from his tip, and you chuckle at the visual. the sound of your amusement over his agony only sends a bolt of mixed pleasure and shame racing up and down his spine. Grace almost jumps when you plant a wet kiss in his inner thigh.
"relax, baby," you smile up at him. his heart squeezes at your sweet attempt to help him keep his head together, but it's wiped clean of all thoughts once you pull down his boxer briefs to free his cock, letting it rest perfectly in your grasp as you scoot closer to the edge of the bed.
"ah-hah!" Grace gasps as you pump him once. his legs threaten to close before you give him a stern look. he whines like a reprimanded pup and keeps them spread for you. you smile again, pleased by his obedience, and gift him a small, soft kiss on the pinkish tip of his cock.
his elbows almost give out behind him. his chest rises and falls rapidly as he watches you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. that makes you want to kiss him again, and you do — Grace moans against your lips, and you hear the remnants of it when you pull away. you come back down to finally, finally give him what he wants.
Grace's upper body jolts upward as you take him in his mouth, his hands balling into tight fists and his cardigan sliding off his shoulders. he whimpers at the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, slowly dipping down to accommodate what you can into your mouth. you feel incredible: wet, hot, and soft... he can only imagine how heavenly the feeling of being inside of you later would be, but in the meantime...
his vision starts spinning when you start sucking; your head bobbing up and down his shaft as your tongue doubles the sensation. Grace matches the moan that you let out, the vibrations further weakening his defenses and twisting even more that coil in his belly. what you can't reach, you stimulate with your hands, and once in a while you reach below to massage his balls. he cries out when you do; it's tantamount to pouring gasoline onto an already roaring flame. the muscles of his abdomen flex when you decide to quicken your pace.
his feet, which are still clad in his favorite pair of socks, dig into the carpet by your bed. tremors travel from his thighs down to his toes. he wants to thread his fingers into your hair, and so he does — not to guide you or push you down more onto his length, but to anchor himself and keep some semblance of sanity as he struggles to see through the blissful tears that are clouding his vision. Grace thinks you look pretty like this too, showering him so much attention and love even if it's through something as dirty as a blowjob. he can't even deny it: he's imagined this scenario in his head for so long, and now it's happening right before his eyes.
"i-i'm close," he splutters, "i-i'm so close," he repeats. his hands leave your hair as he grips your shoulder. "mmph... ah... f-fuck..." he swears, and it shoots straight to you core. you file that away for later. you make it your mission to make this man curse even more before the night ends, but for now, you just want him to let go.
you pull your mouth off Grace and he whines from the loss. he's not left to sulk for long, though, because your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft — glistening from your spit and his precum — until you reach the head, which your mouth decides to spoil. you suckle on the tip and use your hand for the rest, making sure to keep your eyes on him as you coax him to cum. your tongue circles the sensitive head a few times, and the moment you dip it into his slit, Grace lets go at last.
he shudders as he comes, shooting his seed right into your mouth in thick white ribbons. he groans as his hips ride out the sensation, thrusting shallowly, shamelessly into you like you're made just for him. he sighs as he lays limp on the bed, his legs hanging off the edge as he reels from the ecstasy of being sucked for everything he's worth.
you swallow every drop he's given you, and you climb on top of him. Grace gives you a fucked out smile when you hover on top of him. he hums happily, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your cheek.
"you're incredible, baby," he sighs, eyes fluttering from the afterglow of his first orgasm. they flit to your lips. "touch me again," he says, "wanna go for one more... i want to be inside you next..."
i have an idea for a good ship name for sei and grace that's not made up of their names: "rocketscience"! so "rocket" is sei because she's an aerospace engineer and "science" is grace because he's mainly a scientist 🙂↕️
oh my... i feel so honored for this 🥹 thank you so much anon!! 💗 i'll be using this from now on :)
If Sei's going to change the design of the ship, what's it going to look like?
the one in the PHM movie! that's what the ship will be, since it's very different from the design that's included/written about in the book. in Starbound, it's because of Sei that the design of the ship went from this (left picture) to this (right picture).
OMG OMG I JUST READ UR NEW PHM FIC ITS SO GOOD I LOVE ITTT
ok im calm now but !!!!!!! i love how sei doesn't take any of stratt's shit and manages to even sway her so she can look at the astrophage. and that lore with grace! oh my god imagine what happens when they finally meet on stratt's vat ryland grace are you ready
thank you so much for reading! i'm so glad you liked it.
i wasn't sure how i was gonna tag the kind of dynamic that Grace and Sei have, because Sei doesn't actually "hate" him, in the traditional sense. it's more of a feeling of superiority over Grace while also being somewhat hurt from being walled off; she believed in his ideas, yet he ignored her.
and Grace... well, let's just say I'm really going to enjoy writing the chapter where the two of them finally see each other in the flesh. and no, he's not going to be ready, haha
Summary: According to Johannes Kepler, a perihelion happens when a planet is at a point in its orbit where it is closest to a star; the gravitational pull is at its strongest, and the planet moves at its fastest speed — and Ryland Grace finds himself rapidly hurtling along the orbit of the one person he never thought he'd ever meet.
(see full tag list on AO3)
01 | First Contact
nav: 0 | 01 | 02
Present day, roughly three months after the ArcLight Probe launched
Hyogo, Japan; Hasegawa Estate
Jai guru deva,
Jai guru, deva,
Jai guru deva…
The bright sunlight that was sifting through the zelkovas and shining upon Sei’s face as she lay on the veranda was suddenly occluded by a shadow. She couldn’t see who it was since she had been half-sleeping and half-reminiscing while being totally tuned out to Fiona Apple’s rendition of the only Beatles song that she could tolerate. Well, that and “Come Together”. She never cared much for the band, but she spared Paul McCartney from her uninterest. She liked him.
Sei opened her eyes and saw Akiko standing over her. The latter was holding her phone. Sei took off her headphones.
“せいちゃん、” the older woman lowered the device so her granddaughter could reach it. “スマホ鳴りっぱなしやで!”
Sei took her phone from her. “ごめんや、ばあちゃん。全然聞こえへんかったわ...”
Akiko clicked her tongue, but it was hardly biting or contemptuous. It was more the noise of a fretful and nettled mother who was reprimanding her child for using something that could harm their hearing. Sei never heard the end of her headphone usage from her grandmother the entire time she lived with them. She knew that Akiko was going to say the same thing again this time.
“耳にそんなん付けてるからやんか！早う入り。あつし叔父さんがスイカ持ってきたで。” She said, padding away and down the corridor to the right.
Sei slumped back down. She really didn’t feel hungry at the moment, and frankly, she didn’t like watermelon that much. It was near tasteless; the texture was horrendous to her, and the thought of having to spit out seeds while eating irked her. She sighed. Lifting her phone (that was still vibrating and ringing) so she could see it more clearly, she finally answered the call and pressed it to her ear. It was an unknown number; it didn’t have the area code for either Japan or the United States, so she decided to go on the offensive.
“Who is this?” She interrogated the caller. She remained unmoving on the veranda, still sprawled on the wooden flooring with only a cushion supporting her head. The breeze that was rustling the trees and shrubbery was caressing her skin so perfectly that she really, really didn’t want to ruin the calm bubble that she had crafted for herself.
The reply to her query returned just as fast as her curt greeting. Sei preferred that anyway; she wasn’t one to entertain pleasantries especially while she had explicitly stated to her bosses and colleagues that she was not to be disturbed while she was on vacation. Building a probe in under a year, despite the magnanimous budget allotted, was no laughing matter or an ordinary feat. Sei needed to know who had the gall to interrupt her afternoon with something so annoying as a persistent phone call that even her grandmother was given a reason to scold her for the nth time that month.
“My name is Eva Stratt. I’m with the Petrova Taskforce; an international body formed to address the Petrova Problem, which I know you are more than likely familiar with already, Dr. Fujiwara. This is her speaking, yes?”
Sei was definitely sitting up now.
“Yes,” she replied. “And?”
“You’re in Hyogo at the moment, correct?”
Her brows furrowed. How the hell does she know where I am?
“Yes,” Sei confirmed, not bothering to ask the question. She had dealt with enough of these kinds of people in her last assignment. Safe to say, she was already accustomed to such seemingly high-profile persons knowing her every move. Well — after the Amaterasu and Project ArcLight probes, she was technically a high-profile person, too, like this Eva Stratt, who had likely done a background check on her before phoning her. The thought irritated her. Sei never liked gaining attention for her work — work was work. It’s not supposed to be a springboard to stardom, or a pass for prying journalists who wanted the juiciest scoop about her lineage, when they’re just supposed to ask about a damn probe. But considering that everyone already had their eyes on her the moment they reported from JAXA that the sun was dimming, Sei knew that the spotlight was inevitably going to be pointed straight at her face to blind her, because people loved a good name to attach to historically groundbreaking news.
“The ArcLight probe is about to splash down in a few days—you may not know what the telemetry looks like at the moment since you're away, but believe me when I say that you’ll be beyond thrilled… or horrified, when you see it for yourself.”
Not only did Eva Stratt know where Sei was, but she was also baiting her with the last project that burned her out so greatly she had to retreat to Hyogo to recuperate.
Sei brushed away the stray hairs from her face as she sat up properly. She pulled her legs in, sitting cross-legged now. She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s not just space dust, isn’t it?” The hand that was clutching her phone tightened. The other was tapping nervously on the floor beneath her.
“We have reason to believe that the samples collected are not just that. They haven’t been studied closely yet, obviously, but that’s not why I’m calling.” Stratt said. “Dr. Lokken recommended you to me, as both of you worked on ArcLight. I need you to build a ship this time, Dr. Fujiwara. An interstellar ship that could go for at least twelve light years of travel.”
“I’m on leave. I’m not going back until—”
“This cannot wait, doctor. Your employers have already transferred you to me and have approved your temporary leave for this job that I have for you.”
“Which employers?”
“JAXA and UC Berkeley.”
‘Fuck’, Sei mouthed. “Fine, alright.”
“Good,” Stratt replied. Sei could practically feel her smiling from across the line. “I’ll send a plane to pick you up at Kansai International Airport later at eleven-thirty PM and bring you to Palo Alto right away. Someone will be there at the airport to guide you.”
“What? I have a perfectly good laboratory in JAXA. Just send me to Ibaraki.” Sei countered.
“No, the engineers have all agreed to convene at NASA JPL. Lokken will be there, too,” She said. “I don’t need you to look at the dots yet. I’ll have other scientists handle that.”
Sei was appalled. She was being prohibited from looking at the very samples that were collected by the probe that she built? Just who did this woman think she was?
The two of them talked a little more — Stratt did most of the talking, really — and the call ended soon after. Sei stared at the now-blackened screen of her phone as she sat there, allowing herself to absorb everything that had just happened in the last fifteen minutes. She wanted to be petulant about having to cut her trip short, but after that, she couldn’t find it in herself to be so agitated. Something inside her was stirring: a mixture of fear, dread, and excitement. She had never felt like this her entire life; not when she got her internship opportunity at NASA, not when she got the highest grade possible for her dissertation, and not even when her grandmother uprooted her from Kyoto and relocated her to Palo Alto to live with her. This was different. Sei knew that those “dots”, or whatever they were, weren’t just some negligible space dust reflecting light in space. She knew that something had to be feeding off the sun for its luminosity to start taking a deadly, gradual nosedive that could lead them all into extinction… and she was right! Sei smooshed her face into the cushion and screamed into it in delight as she kicked and thrashed her limbs.
And to think that she had built the eyes and the hands that detected a possible alien life form!
The joy that momentarily shot through her didn’t last very long, however. Her features relaxed into a somber expression. She recalled being present when Amaterasu brought back data that terrified all of them at JAXA. No one could speak for a good few seconds when they realized that this wasn’t just some fluke. The numbers were constant, and the threat was slowly baring its teeth at them then and there as they checked the graphs over and over again, to at least get a sliver of a hope that it wasn’t true. Sei couldn’t even bring herself to say it then, because she was all too aware what it meant for her; for every person, every living thing on the planet. A dying sun meant a frozen Earth. Mass starvation, wars;, disorder and death, at the largest scale.
Sei released the breath that she had been holding. She turned to the corridor where Akiko had disappeared into. She stood up, fixed her clothes and hair, and slipped her phone in the back pocket of her jean shorts. Her lack of an appetite for watermelon was all of a sudden cured, and her hunger crested as she followed the voices of her relatives in the adjacent living area. Sei’s heart ached for them. She couldn’t even legally tell them what Stratt had just told her, or fully explain later why she had to leave them so soon, four days and a few hours earlier than her original departure.
This might as well be the last time that she would be able to eat that damn fruit, too.
___
Sei was jetlagged when she landed at San José Mineta International. Her usual cup of tea could not even keep her functioning, because she had to read clause after clause and sign document upon document to be granted top-secret clearance to everything related to Project Hail Mary, which was the name of the assignment under which she had to work for Eva Stratt. It was like it never fucking ended. What’s more — Stratt didn’t let her see the initial ship schematics yet; she said that it would be best to discuss it while they were en route to her house. Sei scoffed at that internally. How nice of her to bring her home first after rattling her with some literal world-ending news and bombarding her with all that bureaucratic work on the plane.
She walked through the arrival area with a canned latte and a lousy chicken clubhouse sandwich; a total far-cry from her usual bowl of steamed rice, wakame miso soup, cucumber and tomato salad, and grilled mackerel back in the cozy, comforting house of Akiko and Isamu. She fucking hated coffee of any kind. And this sandwich was cold. She was already dooming herself by thinking of the sickness that this frigid food could do to her stomach once she finishes all of it.
To make up for this loss of comfort, Sei was all bundled up: she didn’t bother removing the neck pillow and the scarf that she had wrapped around herself. Had she not had these layers, she would have been a bit more sharp-looking with her white shirt and cream slacks, but as it was, she was groggy, homesick, and irritated. Why should she care how she dressed? She wasn’t disheveled by any means. She combed her hair, washed her face, brushed her teeth — she was presentable enough to get picked up by a bunch of security personnel in suits.
Sei could barely laugh at her own joke once she crossed the automatic doors and found the material of her witty little bit standing less than a hundred meters from her.
There must have been at least seven of these uniformed men waiting for her; one of them was holding a small placard with her name on it, written in both romaji and kanji. 'How considerate of them,' Sei thought. In their midst stood a woman. She looked to be around her mid-forties, and had long blonde hair and serious looking eyes. Somehow, Sei was even more unnerved by her when she smiled. This must be Eva Stratt. This was the woman that wanted her to build a spaceship for the looming apocalypse.
Sei used to listen in on her aunts back in Kyoto whenever they analyzed faces. You could tell a lot from a person’s face based on their features: the slope of their nose, the shape of their eyes, the way they smiled, and even the subtlest curve of their brow. Eva Stratt had the face of a woman who was, on the inside, deeply caring, but was somewhat burdened to hide and discard it temporarily. Sei wasn't all too sure about that; she could be misremembering everything she had learned through hearsay, and after all, what she was seeing right now was simply an unknown woman's tatemae. And judging her by just that would be unfair. Sei had been told she had quite the RBF many times back in her university days. Theoretically, she could act like a bitch — she’d done it many times in the past, and she thoroughly enjoyed it, too — but that wasn't true to her inner self, and she was far too weakened to put up an act in front of anyone at the moment.
“Dr. Fujiwara,” Stratt greeted Sei as she drew closer. “How was your flight?”
“Awful,” Sei answered truthfully, but took care not to sound flippant. Stratt did somewhat sponsor her flight back home. She handed her luggage to one of the men. They continued walking until they reached a convoy of equally black and heavily-tinted SUVs. Sei hopped onto the car first before Stratt. The former sat close to the window. Very soon, the fleet pulled away from the airport. Sei peered into the screen on the dashboard, and saw that they were indeed headed to Sumire’s house. She couldn’t possibly refuse a free ride home. Stratt might as well hassle her as much as she could before Sei could hide back inside the comfort of her bedroom.
“These are the proposed schematics for the ship,” Stratt slid a tablet onto the space between them. Sei took it and flicked through the designs. She sighed and shook her head.
“Mm-mm. I’m not building this tin can.” She plopped the tablet in her lap. “This doesn’t even have windows. That’s going to drive your crew crazier. I’m not saying we should coddle the sacrificial lambs, but you can’t worsen an already grim situation. I don’t like this at all.”
“You can redo it if you wish,” Stratt replied. Sei was surprised that she didn’t fight her this time. “I’ve appointed you as lead engineer, anyway. Can you draft a new one within twenty-four hours?” She raised a brow at Sei.
“Yes, and I’ll consult Lokken with the centrifuge re-configuration. I’m not slicing anything in half. If we can’t make it large, I’ll make it sleek and long. What about the fuel? Has there been any suggestions for the propulsion system?”
“That part is still a work-in-progress.”
“We’ll need a very efficient propulsion system to cover twelve light years. Twelve light years, dear God,” Sei muttered. She looked through the rest of the files and pulled up the image of the dots again. Her dots. She chewed her bottom lip and tried one more time to haggle with Stratt.
“I want five of these,” she said. “Or just three, I don’t care; I just need to look at them myself. I have a laboratory in Berkeley — I’ll make it work.”
“Dr. Fujiwara,” Stratt gave her a look. “This is an alien substance that we’re dealing with. I can’t have you exposing civilians and yourself to an unknown organism.”
“I handled extremophiles of so many kinds when I did my dissertation. I know what I’m doing. If you really can’t trust me, you can have your men watch me. I don’t mind having an audience. Just let me look into them and I’ll let you know what I find.”
Sei and Stratt had a little staring contest before the latter finally broke. “Fine,” she relented, “I’ll give you three. But I’ll have to speak to the admin of Berkeley about the laboratory you’re using and apply all the necessary security and containment measures. You’ll have to work at night, too, while there aren’t any people in the building.”
Sei cracked her first smile of the day. “Thank you. I’ll send my findings via email.”
Stratt spoke again after a while. She was looking out the window this time. She huffed out a chuckle. “Lokken was right about you. You really can be persuasive.”
___
Sei received a ping from Stratt — they were texting now, as it was better for quicker communication — a couple of days after she met up with Lokken and the other engineers at NASA JPL and her experimentation at the laboratory, but she didn’t check it yet. She was writing up a proposal for a hypothetical photon drive.
As promised, Stratt gave Sei the first three samples as soon as ArcLight was recovered, and Sei went to work as soon as she received them at Berkeley. The laboratory was sealed and filled with argon gas, and Sei had to wear a hazmat suit the entire time, since this wasn’t just some lab-engineered tardigrade. She was brimming with excitement when she opened the containment unit for the sample.
Sei ran three tests: first was to piss everyone off and expose the sample to Earth atmosphere, or at least a simulation of it, to see what would happen. The answer was “nothing”. The second was to simply sacrifice the second dot. This was so she could study the parts that it had, to see whether or not it had wildly alien organelles that were beyond the scope of what she knew about cells. But, much to her surprise and chagrin, it was made up almost entirely of the same innards as a cell originating from Earth.
“That’s it?!” Sei yelled as she read the composition and confirmed everything that the damn thing contained. She had hoped for something bizarre, something that would blow her mind, and this was… it. Carbon, nitrogen… and a fucking 2:1 ratio of hydrogen and oxygen. She rolled her eyes and typed it all up on her laptop, disappointed and disenchanted. For an organism that moved according to the momentum of light and stored so much energy, she would have assumed that they’d have more Lovecraftian organelles. Sei learned that from the third unharmed cell, with which she ran a spectrograph to examine closely how it behaved. That was what led her to conclude that a photon drive would be the most ideal propulsion system for the ship; the Hail Mary, as it was now called. The cells just needed to be bred and bred until there was enough fuel for a one-way trip.
But she wasn’t going to do that. It was four AM and she still needed to drive home, have breakfast, and sleep.
She only answered Stratt’s message after she finished the proposal. She had her cat, Ochi, purring in her lap as she ate mochi ice cream at the breakfast bar, checking her phone again to see what she had told her earlier today.
E. Stratt: I’ve read your lab reports. Good work.
E. Stratt: Results have been replicated by another scientist: Dr. Ryland Grace. Do you know him? He’s also from your state.
Talk about bringing someone back from the dead… or out of hiding, more like. Sei almost abandoned her food as she read that name over and over again, thinking it would disappear and change into someone else’s. Ochi jumped out of her lap and transferred onto the other barstool. Sei put her phone face down on the counter. She picked up another piece and ate it, her face curving into a scowl as she came to terms just who Stratt had managed to drag out of some hole in California.
Ryland Grace. Sei could never forget that name. She had found out about him all those years ago, while she was still a PhD candidate; she’d been leafing through some articles online that she could cite in her thesis when she happened upon that paper, where he had asserted that life could evolve without the need for water. The tone was a little snarky, like someone wanted it to be the written equivalent of a middle finger, but it wasn’t altogether unfounded. ‘Wow, this guy’s crazy!’ Sei thought then, before bookmarking it and scrolling to the end to look for the author’s email. She shot him a message asking for an online meet-up, but long story short: Dr. Ryland Grace ghosted PhD candidate Sei Fujiwara. She had two theories: (1) he didn’t read it and it got jailed forever in his spam folder, or (2) he read it, thought of Sei an even crazier person, and ignored her.
Sei never knew what became of that man after the researchers who reviewed his work basically tore him to shreds and crowned him as the scientific community’s social pariah. She never bothered to know where he went after all the noise died down, either.
And now he was back because of Eva Stratt. Funny how fate worked sometimes.
Sei straight-up lied to Stratt in her reply, saying that she didn’t know him. He didn’t deserve the association, and it was true anyway: she never knew him beyond his paper. Stratt answered back after a while.
E. Stratt: He’s named the microbes “astrophage”. We’ll use that from now on, and he’ll be in charge of them moving forward.
E. Stratt: Please focus on the ship. Will message you soon about the next developments.
Sei snickered. She had finished up the rest of the mochi ice cream. “Astrophage,” she tried the name on her tongue. ‘I wonder how I’ll translate that to my colleagues at JAXA. 食星菌? 食星体? I’ll have to write those down…' She mused as she hopped off the seat and put the bowl in the sink, filling it with water to wash off any remaining food residue. Her scrubbing of the poor receptacle grew more aggressive when she realized that that loser was the one who named her dots.
Summary: According to Johannes Kepler, a perihelion happens when a planet is at a point in its orbit where it is closest to a star; the gravitational pull is at its strongest, and the planet moves at its fastest speed — and Ryland Grace finds himself rapidly hurtling along the orbit of the one person he never thought he'd ever meet.
(see full tag list on AO3)
0 | Prologue (Sei Fujiwara)
nav: 0 | 01 | 02
Sixteen years ago
Kyoto City, Japan; Fujiwara Estate
…Images of broken light, which dance before me like a million eyes,
They call me on and on, across the universe—
“お嬢様, your father requires your presence in the pavilion of the east wing. Please leave your belongings here. I shall take care of them.” Kiyo-san, a maidservant of the house and my nanny, said to me as soon as I entered the house. Her hands carefully slipped off the blue randoseru that I was carrying from my shoulders. I had just arrived from my Mandarin class then, but all thoughts regarding the use of 了 in a sentence escaped my mind as I processed her words. Why does my father want to talk to me? Am I in trouble? Did he find out that I still have the collection of trinkets that I fished out from the lake at the west gate? He had asked (reprimanded and demanded) me to throw them back — I did not listen, of course. I kept them all in a box that I hid in a compartment near my clothes. Did Yoshida rat me out? My curiosity, as it always did, got the better of me.
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box,
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe,
Jai guru deva om…
“Why does father want to talk to me? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” I asked and asserted as I went through the motions of removing my shoes. Kiyo-san placed my slippers in front of me. She gave me an apologetic smile and shook her head. I knew that look. Adults who couldn’t do anything to help my situation often gave me this expression in response to my struggle, as if it could eradicate them in one fell swoop and make me feel better, or numb me from what was to come. I could never decide whether I was going to be irritated or helpless in the face of their inability to aid me.
“I do not know, お嬢様, but he didn’t seem angry when I saw him. I do, however, believe that he’s summoning you for an important conversation.” Kiyo-san crouched to my level to smooth out my hair and the collar of my blouse. “It must have something to do with our visitors this afternoon. I saw him and your mother conversing with some Americans!”
My eyes widened. We turned to cross the genkan and step onto the hallway.
“Foreigners?” I looked to her to confirm my wonder.
Kiyo-san nodded. “Some of the visitors, yes. But the main guests are Japanese, so there’s no need to fret about your English.” She smiled again, this time to encourage me. I had separate classes for that language too; only on Saturdays, however. Reading Chinese characters was the top priority. I was good at written English; I wasn’t so confident in my speaking skills. Suddenly, going to the pavilion became even more of a daunting task.
“Now,” she stood up to her full height and clasped her hands. She motioned for me to proceed. “Please follow Ise-san, she will take you to the pavilion.”
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world…
I was immediately hit by the realization that where Ise-san was taking me to was not a normal discussion as we emerged from the main house and out into the covered walkway leading to the pavilion. No one was speaking; all of the adults were wearing a look of resolve, laced with a hint of either relief or resolve. We climb up two short flights of wooden steps before stopping at the threshold. I kept my gaze low.
Ise-san announced my presence. She bowed and left me there. I also bowed, and waited to be given permission to enter the adults’ space and take a seat. I always hated this. This estate was my house, too. But I had no choice but to surrender to the elders’ rules; otherwise, I’d either be berated or beat.
Sounds of laughter, shades of earth are ringing through my opened ears, inciting and inviting me,
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, and calls me on and on, across the universe
Jai guru deva om...
“Come in and be seated, Sei,” Nohara Fujiwara — my great-grand uncle — gestured to the vacant olive green cushion that I had been eyeing. I obeyed and sat down, folding my legs beneath me and neatly placing my hands on my lap exactly how I’d been taught. I took in my surroundings as I got settled.
On my right were my parents, Jiro and Shizune; and on the left were… the visitors, I assumed. The lot of them were clad in dark business suits and had briefcases set somewhere within their reach; however, I wasn’t so interested in them as I was in the woman sitting directly to my left, roughly four feet away from me. She looked to be older than my mother — perhaps she was in her fifties — and she had thick streaks of white hair here and there in the neat low bun that she was wearing. She was wearing a deep purple hōmongi with floral motifs. She glanced at me. She looked very familiar.
I directed my attention to the clan elders, who were situated behind a long, low wooden table where some documents were arranged neatly into specific, unknown categories. I couldn’t see them from where I was; I was too far away to snoop. I stayed quiet. I knew well enough to hold my tongue when I was in the presence of these people. So I douse the burning questions in my mind with the water of my resolve.
This time Masaru Fujiwara spoke. He was my great-grandfather. “The woman to your left is your Grandmother Sumire. She has come here to fetch you and take you to America so you could further your studies.”
Oh, I see how it is. They’ve probably been waiting for this since I learned how to use my own brain, and now they’re doing it. They’ve found their savior, and they’re throwing me away like a useless, aging dog.
I couldn’t hold it any longer. “But…” I began. My voice came out so weak and small. I turned to my parents. My father was already giving me that look that always used to tell me to pipe down.
“It has already been decided, Sei,” he said. His eyes hardened. “You will never be clan leader anyway, and you’re unfit to be a bride. You will only embarrass me further. This is the best alternative for you.”
I dared to challenge him by continuing, and fought through the pressure to keep quiet. I was going to be given away, anyway. Might as well break one of the rules as best as I could. “But you told me that I don’t have grandparents anymore. You said that they were both dead.
The female visitor — well, Grandma Sumire, rather, whom until now I only ever saw in faded pictures kept in an album tucked away in the library — laughed at my confusion.
“My, Jiro — that’s what you told my granddaughter? That your own mother was dead?” She said, chuckling ruefully.
My father didn’t even deign to glance her way. His fists were balled tightly in his lap. “You have been dead to me since you left the clan all those years ago, you selfish woman,” he snapped back.
Grandma Sumire scoffed. “You know nothing because you insist upon being blind to the truth. Very well, then. Believe what your grandfather always wanted you to believe.”
Great-grandfather Masaru was clearly unhappy about her scathing statement. “Why, you insolent we—!”
“That’s enough,” Uncle Nohara raised his hand. This was enough to dissipate the tension in the room. “This is not the time for us to quarrel about matters in the past. This is for the child.” He looked directly at me. “We believe that sending you off to America would suit you best, Sei. I agree with Sumire. You won’t flourish in the clan.”
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world,
Nothing's gonna change my world…
“Overly ambitious women have no place here,” declared Great-grandmother Miwa, who had been glaring at me since the moment I arrived. She never liked me one bit. In fact, I heard she refused to even look at me when my mother gave birth. She’d always hit me whenever she’d catch me slouching, and pinch me so hard that I’d bruise whenever I forget to bring her tea; she was the one who called me a “問題子”. A problem child. A smear to the name Fujiwara.
She sneered at me, and possibly at my grandmother, too. I had no way of confirming, but knowing that woman, I was confident that I was right. “You’re free to go now, so you can spare us from further humiliation.”
This time, I refused to meet her stare. I’ve already defied my father. Now I’ve done the same to her.
The only thing that I remember from this time in my life beyond that meeting was when my Grandmother Sumire—and her assistant, Ito-san—went inside my room to help me pack. We were to leave in two days.
“How about it, Sei-chan?” She said as she stroked my hair. Even though I’ve only met her then, the smile she had given me was the kindest I’ve ever seen in my entire life. “Are you excited to come with me?”
I only stared at her. I didn’t really know what to say. She wasn’t offended by my inability to respond, though.
“I heard you want to be like those people that send astronauts to space. If you come with me, I’ll make sure you’ll become just that. Grandma will take care of it all for you.”
Waittt i just realized smth... Grace in the book was sort of a really big fan of the Amaterasu probe so by that logic he'd be starstruck to be working with Sei since you said you wrote her to have been one of the ppl to build it. But Grace probably doesn't remember that Sei reached out to him wayyy back then. Is Sei angry at Grace??? Are we going to get an enemies to lovers trope here????? RIN PLS FUCK THIS IS SO JUICYY
