Stepping out of the room, the corridor carpet absorbed all our footsteps. Sunlight leaked through the portholes, cutting the deep red carpet into blocks of light.
I walked half a step ahead, my ash-blonde hair gleaming cool, the ribbons in my high ponytail swaying. The edge of my black over-the-knee stockings appeared and disappeared beneath my short bell-shaped skirt. She lagged behind, the mist-pink lolita dress moving like a flower stirred by the wind.
"This girl wants to see the sea."
I quickened my pace. The glass corridor on the seventh deck had a curved curtain wall that framed the sea like a giant oil painting.
A crack in the clouds spilled sunlight in golden slashes across the water.
The glass became an enormous mirror. Our faces floated side by side, ash-blonde and pinkish-purple hair intertwining. Our skin in the reflection had no pores, like glazed porcelain, light sliding off without catching any line.
The morning sun, still low over the water, turned the corridor into a long gallery of light and shadow. Each porthole we passed cast its own circle of brightness on the carpet. Between them lay pools of amber dimness where the only illumination came from the sea itself—a diffuse, gray-green glow that seemed to rise from beneath the hull.
Dianzi brought her face close, her breath misting a small circle. I pressed my fingertip to the glass, meeting hers, our fingernails nearly touching. Beyond the glass, a fishing trawler crawled across the horizon, its hull so distant it looked like a smudge of charcoal someone had tried to rub away and given up on.
She aimed the camera out, panning slowly. "It can't get in. The color this girl here is wearing today is mist-pink. This lolita dress looks so nice in this light."
[chat] Here we are 😊
[chat] Beautiful girls again today ✨
[chat] The skirt looks so ethereal in this light
[chat] Daughter, look at your hubby
A flying fish leaped, its silver-white body flipping mid-air. Dianzi placed the squirrel on the railing. "Lychee, did you see that? A flying fish."
The squirrel's black-bead eyes reflected the sea. We leaned against the railing, the sea breeze salty and briny. Dianzi's hair lifted, and I tucked it behind her ear, feeling the faint pulse beneath the cool skin. She shuffled closer, her shoulder pressing against my arm. The warmth of her body came through the thin fabric, a steady presence against the chill of the air conditioning.
She spun in a circle, the colorful embroidery flashing like little flowers. She stopped, dizzy, a faint pink rising on her cheeks. "Spun too fast."
"Serves you right."
She lifted her head, leaving a round mist print on her forehead like a transparent coin. The print lingered for a moment, then began to fade from the edges inward, shrinking until it was nothing at all.
"Lychee, look, that boat."
The squirrel ignored her. We leaned side by side, the sunlight casting our shadows one long, one short.
[chat] This pink is so gorgeous
[chat] The trim on the stockings is absolutely stunning
[chat] Daughter's twirl is so sweet 💕
[chat] That mist print on her forehead is so cute
"You stepped on this girl's skirt."
She looked down at the shallow crease on my jet-black skirt, smoothed it quickly. I stepped aside. "It's fine. Can iron it out later." She turned the camera to me, backlit, my outline haloed. "Sister, say hello." I tilted my head. "Morning."
[chat] Wifey is so aloof ❄️
[chat] Good morning, Daughter
[chat] I love this contrast
[chat] Both wives are absolutely stunning
A seagull landed on the railing, hopping forward. Its claws made a faint clicking sound on the metal, and it tilted its head first to one side, then the other, as if trying to parse the glass barrier through one eye at a time. "Do you want to come in?" "It doesn't understand." "What if it does?" "It won't answer you."
——That seagull hasn't flown away this whole time. What is it waiting for.
My smile faded; I took the phone and continued filming. The gull ruffled its wings, settled them back, and stayed exactly where it was.
Dianzi walked toward a little girl crouched by the glass. "What are you looking at?"
"Waiting for flying fish. Mom says they can fly, and their wings are shiny."
No flying fish. "How long have you been waiting?" "I don't know." The girl turned; her large brown eyes reflected the sea, cheeks reddened, shoulders tense. "Are you here alone?" "My mom is over there."
A flying fish shot out, shimmering. "Flying fish!" the girl shouted with pure delight. She turned back, but her smile faded as she saw the empty corridor behind Dianzi. "Where's Mom?"
Dianzi stroked her head. "Mom will be right here. This girl here will wait with you."
A young woman came running, a light blue dress with a fresh coffee stain, a plastic bag digging into her fingers. She was panting. "Xiaoyu, Mommy told you not to wander off." Her voice trembled. The girl grabbed her mother's skirt. The fabric bunched in her small fist, knuckles white against the pale blue cotton.
"Thank you so much, little miss. I turned around and she was gone."
Dianzi shook her head. "Xiaoyu was very good, waiting for the flying fish the whole time."
The young mother smiled, tucking her daughter's hair back. Her hand trembled. Dianzi's gaze fell on the bag. "Do you still need to rush off for your interview?"
"Mm. Still early."
Dianzi took a little bottle from her bag and sprayed a cool mist of mint directly into the woman's face. "Oh dear, this is a new perfume. This girl here pressed the wrong button. Isn't that refreshing? You won't feel sleepy during your interview now."
The woman wiped her face, a wry smile on her lips. "It is quite refreshing."
"Are you here alone with her?"
"Her father is away. I've gotten used to it. The body learns, over time." Her tone was flat. "We should go." The girl turned back to wave, and Dianzi waved back.
They disappeared around the corner, the coffee stain dark in the light.
[chat] Daughter is so gentle 😭
[chat] That little girl is so cute
[chat] I hope she's happy forever
[chat] Mom's working so hard 🙏
Dianzi turned to the camera. "This one hopes that every time Xiaoyu watches the sea, she has someone with her."
A blonde tourist approached, phone raised. "Excuse me, what do you two do?" Dianzi blocked the lens. "Fashion bloggers." The tourist laughed, asked for a photo, and snapped several shots. As she scrolled through, Dianzi noticed a photo of a little girl leaning on a railing—Xiaoyu, just her back, a goose-yellow dress, blurred into a smudge. Dianzi looked at it a second longer.
The woman left. My hand rested on Dianzi's shoulder. Sunlight leaked through a gap in the clouds, slicing a thin band of iridescence on the glass, ready to shatter. The colors shimmered at the edge of the light—pale green bleeding into violet, violet into something that had no name—and then the cloud closed and the colors were gone, as if they had never been there at all.
When Dianzi turned, the squirrel's tail swept across the railing, leaving an impossibly fine scratch that flashed once in the light and vanished. We left the glass corridor and followed the porthole passage to the elevator hall. The sky beyond the round windows shifted from honey into deep orange, the sea breeze turning cool as it blew in from the deck's end. I pressed the button. The doors opened, the fourteenth floor already lit.