Amai stood near the helm with her arms folded, one foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the deck. "We can talk about your plan when you're all done cleaning."
Kenji blinked. "Cleaning?"
Olorun let out an exhausted groan from somewhere behind him. "Please don't make us clean…"
Amai's expression sharpened like a blade catching light. "My ship, my rules."
Timmy, perched on a barrel nearby, widened his eyes and conjured the softest, saddest look he could muster—a look that could melt stone. His ears drooped ever so slightly as he whispered, "You won't make me clean… right?"
Amai's gaze fell on him, and her entire demeanor shifted. She bent down and gently scooped him up, cradling him like precious cargo. "Oh, Timmy. Of course not. You can join me in my room."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "Wait… what exactly are we cleaning?"
Amai turned to face him, all business again. "You and Olorun are on dish duty."
Kenji groaned quietly under his breath, the sound of a man accepting defeat.
She pointed to Eleo. "Eleo, clean up the deck. Just sweep up the dust, that's it. Keep it simple."
Then her finger swiveled to Tony. "Tony, you've got the lower deck. And by that, I mean your rooms, the hallway, the library, the lounge, and the bathroom."
Eleo tilted his head. "Wait… we have a bathroom?"
Olorun blinked in genuine surprise. "And a lounge?"
Amai shrugged like she'd just mentioned the weather. "Yeah, I forgot to show you guys."
Tony gave her a suspicious look and laughed nervously, the sound pitching higher with each syllable. "Wait, wait, wait… Amai, please. Don't be that guy. I'm begging you."
She raised her hand slowly, eyes locked on him with predatory precision. "Oh, I'm definitely going to be that guy."
Snap.
In a flash of light and the faint scent of magic, Tony and Eleo found themselves clutching brooms, while Kenji and Olorun discovered cleaning cloths materialized in their hands. Everyone stood frozen for a heartbeat, processing what had just happened.
Amai turned on her heel, Timmy sitting comfortably on her head like a living crown while Kawai waddled behind her, struggling to keep pace. She headed toward the stairs leading to the lower deck. Just before disappearing from view, she glanced over her shoulder. "Well? Get to cleaning."
SLAM. The door closed behind her with finality.
Kenji let out a slow sigh and rolled his shoulders, resigned. "Alright… come on, Olorun. Let's get this over with."
Olorun muttered something unintelligible, adjusting the cloth in his hand. "Yeah, yeah…"
Tony turned to Eleo with a sly grin creeping across his skeletal features and leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey… Eleo. My dear, fearless leader. How would you like to switch jobs? Just this once?"
Eleo gave him a flat look. "Tony, I may not be the smartest guy, but I'm not dumb enough to fall for your dirty little tricks."
Tony stared for a long moment, processing the rejection. "Wow. Okay. That hurt a little."
He sighed, dragging his broom behind him as he trudged toward the lower deck like a condemned man walking to the gallows. "Worth a shot…"
Eleo surveyed the deck, watching the sea breeze roll through and sweep light dust across the weathered floorboards. "Alright… just clean the deck. That's not bad."
He spotted a patch of dust collecting near the base of the mast like an enemy waiting to be vanquished. "Okay, there you are…"
With sudden intensity, he dashed forward and slammed the broom down hard. FWOMP. The dust scattered instantly into the wind.
He stood tall, holding the broom like a sword after a victorious strike. "That was… easier than I thought."
Another dusty corner caught his eye near a barrel. He jogged over, energy renewed. "Alright, let's knock all of this out. I used to do this at that one restaurant anyway."
As he swept, the sun caught the deck just right, casting warm amber light across the wood grain. The air was calm, filled with the rhythmic sound of bristles against wood and the distant cry of seabirds. Despite the mundane nature of the chore, something about it felt peaceful—meditative, even.
Meanwhile, below deck, Tony surveyed the damage with growing horror. Dust lined every corner like neglected cobwebs, books were stacked haphazardly in the library doorway creating an obstacle course, and an odd smell wafted from the bathroom that he couldn't quite identify.
He shook his head slowly. "Of course. Of course this is what she meant…"
Tony wandered into the empty room assigned to him and the others, glancing around with a critical eye. "Huh. Not bad," he muttered. It was mostly dust and a few cobwebs stretched across the corners like ghostly decorations. A couple of swipes with the broom, some strategic rearranging of furniture, and it was spotless within minutes. He spun the broom like a staff, feeling unexpectedly proud of himself.
"Too easy," he said with a grin.
Next stop: the weapon room.
He stepped through the doorway and was instantly greeted by rows upon rows of swords, spears, and mysterious gadgets hung carelessly on walls and racks. Dust had settled over everything like a lazy blanket that had been there for months. Tony sighed deeply. "Okay, this might take a minute."
He got to work, moving carefully to avoid triggering any sharp surprises. After some focused sweeping and gentle polishing, he stepped back and admired the sparkle of clean metal catching the lamplight. "Alright, now it looks like an actual armory, not a warzone from last week."
The library beckoned next. Books stacked precariously to the ceiling, ancient scrolls poking out of shelves at physics-defying angles, and papers scattered across a desk like someone had suffered a scholarly explosion. He groaned again, louder this time. "Man, can we get like, a maid bot or something next time?"
Still, he committed to the task. He organized the scrolls by category, dusted the shelves with surprising care, and neatly stacked the books in order of size. It took time, but there was an unexpected calmness in the quiet hum of the ship and the smell of old pages—like stepping into forgotten history.
The medical room came as a pleasant surprise. Surprisingly neat. Just some light wiping down and sweeping up. Easy enough.
Tony tossed his rag aside and placed his bony hands on his hips triumphantly. "Alright. Time for the final boss…"
He opened the bathroom door and immediately squinted against the light reflecting off questionable surfaces. "Okay… not bad…" He peeked cautiously into the toilet—and froze completely. "Yep. Nope. Hell no. Luckily, I'm a skeleton and can't smell."
He gagged out of pure habit anyway.
Still, duty called. He scrubbed and wiped until the bathroom sparkled like new. Just as he stepped back, feeling genuinely triumphant, a glowing pink message suddenly blinked into existence in the air before him.
"Tony, make sure to clean the toilet. I accidentally clogged it. - Amai"
He stared at it, completely deadpan. "Oh, for the love of—"
He muttered increasingly creative curses under his breath, grabbed the plunger with the resignation of a warrior accepting one final battle, and plunged back into war.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, peace briefly reigned.
Olorun stood at the sink, quietly rinsing off a plate. Steam wafted up from the warm water as he methodically wiped it clean and set it aside with care.
Kenji leaned against the counter, watching. "You're going kind of slow there."
Olorun didn't look up from his work. "I like to be thorough."
Kenji rolled his eyes. "At that rate, we'll be here until next week."
"You want to do it faster? Be my guest."
Kenji grabbed a rag and snatched the next plate with purpose. "Fine. I'll show you how it's done."
For a few minutes, harmony existed. Kenji rinsed, Olorun dried. The system worked smoothly—until they reached the forks.
"Did you just put a fork in with the clean stuff? You didn't even rinse it."
Kenji gave him a look. "It's a fork. You dip it in water. Boom. Clean."
"That's not how—ugh." Olorun grabbed it and scrubbed it again with exaggerated thoroughness.
Kenji scowled. "You got something to say?"
"You're just sloppy."
"And you're obsessed with scrubbing every dish like it's made of gold."
"It's called standards."
"Oh, I'll show you standards!"
Kenji tossed a soapy sponge at Olorun, the projectile splatting wetly against his chest.
Olorun blinked slowly, then turned with dangerous calm, gripping a sudsy plate. "You just declared war."
Kenji smirked, adrenaline rising. "Good. I was getting bored."
A moment later, chaos erupted. Bubbles filled the air like a foam snowstorm as sponges flew like projectiles, and water splashed everywhere in chaotic arcs. Plates clattered dangerously, a mug shattered against the floor, and a pot rolled across the kitchen with a hollow metallic sound.
"Damn it, Kenji!" Olorun yelled, slipping slightly as he tried to dodge another flying sponge.
"You started it!" Kenji yelled back, his hair soaked and shirt clinging to him like a second skin.
Despite the chaos, they both fought hard to keep the dishes from breaking, arguing with every move. It was loud, messy, and absolutely ridiculous—but neither of them would admit they were actually enjoying it a little.
The door swung open with dramatic flair, and Amai strode in like she owned the universe—which, in her room at least, she absolutely did.
The space exploded with pink. Sparkling wallpaper glistened under soft ambient lighting, fluffy pastel rugs cushioned every step like walking on clouds, and shelves were lined with glittery trinkets, magical wands of various designs, and plush animals frozen mid-cuteness. A few posters of magical anime girls striking dynamic poses sparkled with actual embedded glitter that caught the light.
Timmy, perched on Amai's head, gasped like he'd just witnessed a sacred treasure.
"Whoa…" he breathed, his tiny hands grabbing at her hair excitedly. "This place is like… a forest made of glitter and dreams!"
Amai shrugged, brushing a finger through her bangs to look cool and unbothered. "Eh. It's alright."
Kawai waddled in behind them, immediately tripping over the thick rug and face-planting with a soft fwump. She popped up with puffed cheeks and an irritated chirp that said volumes about her dignity.
Timmy's eyes sparkled with genuine wonder. "Amai, this is the most amazing room I've ever been in! Look at this bed! It's like a mushroom nest but with sparkles!"
He dashed across the room—more accurately, a joyful zip of movement—leaping into the folds of the canopy bed. His tiny body sank into the plush blankets, arms spread wide as if embracing the entire universe. "I could live here forever! This is better than a hollow tree after spring rain!"
Amai, hiding her amusement behind crossed arms and a carefully crafted expression of boredom, walked over and sat down beside him. Her eyes glanced sideways at him. "…You like it that much, huh?"
Timmy spun to look at her, eyes big and bright as stars. "I love it. I didn't know humans liked stuff like this!"
Amai clicked her tongue dismissively. "I don't. This is just… practical combat camouflage for magical warfare."
Timmy tilted his head, confused. "It's pink."
"Exactly."
Kawai stood in the doorway, seething with barely contained jealousy.
She waddled in stiffly, staring at Timmy with daggers in her eyes. That smug, glitter-drunk plant boy. How dare he monopolize Amai's attention like this. She let out a high-pitched growl and stomped over determinedly, falling again along the way with a frustrated THUD.
Amai looked down and scooped Kawai up absentmindedly, placing her on her lap like a grumpy stuffed animal.
"So," Amai said with a smirk, gently brushing Timmy's leaf-like hair, "wanna roleplay?"
Timmy's face lit up like fireflies dancing under moonlight. "YES! What are we playing?! Fairy Rangers? Forest Princesses? Battle Beasts of the Glitter Zone?!"
Kawai glared at him with an expression that clearly said, You unbelievable fungus.
Amai thought for a second, then flicked Timmy on the forehead gently. "You're the shy forest spirit, and I'm the mighty sorceress who saved you."
Timmy gasped dramatically. "That's perfect! I am shy sometimes!"
Kawai tilted her head, eyes narrowing skeptically. A mighty sorceress? Really?
Timmy bowed with theatrical flair. "Oh great Sorceress Amai, you saved my roots and now I will dedicate my entire life to making you happy!"
Amai raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit much, forest shrimp."
Timmy nodded solemnly, fully committed. "I'm serious. I will sing for you. I will dust your windows. I will make the leaves sparkle with morning dew just for you."
Amai suppressed a snort of laughter. "Fine, but only if you do the voice."
Timmy cleared his throat and switched to a high-pitched falsetto that somehow managed to be both adorable and ridiculous: "Oooohhh mighty Sorceress Amai, grant me your protection in this pink temple of fluffy glory!"
Kawai slapped her tiny paw to her face and groaned out loud, the sound of pure exasperation.
Amai's shoulders shook as she tried desperately to hold in a laugh. "You're so weird, dude."
Timmy gave her a proud thumbs-up. "It's a Minari thing."
Kawai jumped off Amai's lap and waddled over to the closet with purpose, popping it open and dragging out a tiny tiara from under a pile of plushies. She slammed it on her own head and struck a defiant pose.
Timmy gasped. "Oh no… she's challenging me for the role!"
Amai leaned back, arms behind her head, watching the chaos unfold with a rare smirk tugging at her lips. "Okay, okay. Duel it is. Whoever's the cutest wins."
Timmy straightened his leaf collar with dignity. "Bring it."
Kawai fluffed up all her fur, puffed out her chest to maximum capacity, and wiggled her body with dramatic flair.
Timmy spun gracefully and performed a tiny twirl on the bed, glitter trailing from his sleeve vines like magical dust.
They both froze in their poses.
Amai looked between them, chin resting thoughtfully in her hand. "...Alright. You're both so cute I might puke. Tie."
Timmy beamed, leaping triumphantly into Amai's lap. "YES! We're both worthy!"
Kawai narrowed her eyes at him. You just got lucky, leaf-boy.
Amai patted both of their heads with unexpected gentleness, and despite everything—the rivalry, the chaos, the absolute absurdity of it all—a warm smile crept onto her face.
"…Maybe having weirdos on this ship ain't so bad."
The lights dimmed gradually, the pink glow softening the edges of the room, and the three of them sat together in comfortable silence—bitter rivals, reluctant companions, and the most ridiculous, adorable trio on the ship.