Athena beamed as she approached the Shipshape Aquarium show stage. This, after all, was where the magic of the Swashbuckler Spectacular happened. She positively adored all things pirate: the swordfighting, the bravery, the adventure! Since she was a child, it was her favorite fantasy. She had read every story she could find, watched every film and TV show, and always preferred playing pirate and seafaring games above all others when Simon came to visit...

No. No, she was not going to think about that. Sasha needed her help and right now deserved all of her attention: the opportunity would come, but there was nothing she could do for him yet.

It was a futile struggle, though. Once she started to think of him, she couldn't block those panicky, dreading thoughts of how frantic she was to save him before it was too late, before her noble samurai clung to his loyalty too fiercely and died for it.

Those thoughts had only manifested since the first time she had seen him again. When he'd acted like a stranger and treated her as contemptuously as every "dullard" in the courtroom, she had fought to hide how profoundly hurt she was. Athena had not known what to expect from him after seven long years, but simply anticipating a changed man had not prepared her for the cold glare she'd received from her childhood friend behind the prosecutor's bench. Desperately, she had wanted to be able to speak to him honestly, but she could tell that he already had his suspicions about why she had returned—and with every terse, disparaging comment, he seemed to want nothing more than to send her away again.

She took a deep, slow breath. I'm here for Sasha, she reminded herself. And nothing he says will keep me from proving her obvious innocence... And then his own. Her cloudy expression quickly morphed into her more typical, determined one, and she joined Mr. Wright and Marlon in their discussion by the water's edge.

Naturally, it threw her for a loop when he showed up at the poolside. It was strange to think that it was the nearest they had been since she'd been a child—but he was still him. He still towered over her, still had those stormy gray eyes, even if they were now sleepless. Part of her hoped that he was there to talk to them—not that they would have anything pleasant to talk about in that context, but even so, she just wanted an excuse to share words with him.

His final comment to them was unnecessarily cruel and no doubt designed to discourage her: why not admit that you're doing this for your own benefit? She wanted to shout at him You know exactly why I do this, and why I'm here! But Mr. Wright sensed her anger and was already trying to diffuse the situation.

She knew what Simon was really saying, though: Go home. You should not have come back here.

Well, his constant discouragement wasn't going to stop her—but she was frustrated, even if it was less with him and more with what circumstance had done to them. And when he began to walk away with Detective Fulbright, Athena found that she wasn't done with him quite yet. She shot Mr. Wright a big grin, leaned over the show pool, and though she knew how immature it would look, she splashed the water at the prosecutor's back with all her might. The man stiffened noticeably but ultimately moved on, composed. She wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for in terms of his reaction, but at least it was something genuine and unrehearsed, so she counted it as a victory.

More or less satisfied, she moved to stand again—but didn't notice that one heel was hanging over the edge of the pool, and when she briskly rose, she slipped and found herself falling backwards. Arms flailing, she heard a voice cry out her name, but her back soon hit the water with a sharp splash! andshe was completely submerged.

For one disoriented moment, she was terrified: she remembered falling into pools as a child, but those hadn't been nearly as deep...or dark. So many things had scared her as a sheltered little girl, especially once she had closed up in her shell, and at times, they all came flooding back... Immediately, she shut off those thoughts: you're stronger now, remember? And she truly was.

But before she had even begun to swim to the surface, a strong hand grabbed her wrist and was pulling her up. Finally, her head was above water, and she gasped and sputtered for air. She glanced up at her rescuer—and met the sight of grey eyes all but hidden by black and white bangs.

"Are you alright then, princess?" He murmured, only for her ears. When she looked up at him, his expression was plain and serious, but she saw the concern and amusement that danced in his eyes and felt eleven years old again. This was now the closest she'd been to her dear friend in seven years, with his shackled but strong hands grasping her forearms as she floated lamely in the pool, and she only had a matter of seconds to communicate some—any—of what she had been dying to say to him since he first stood across from her in court with his back turned.

"... Simon," was all she managed, but that familiarity was enough. He closed his eyes for a quiet moment. When he opened them, they were masked with that cold distance, and she was a stranger once more.

The convict helped the young attorney out of the pool without another word, releasing her hand the second she was on solid ground. She continued to stare at him, but he refused to meet her eyes again. Instead, he looked off to the side and muttered, "Hmph. Better watch it, Cykes-dono. You never know what could gobble you up in murky, suspicious waters such as these. Then again, given your performance in court, I'm not surprised by further show of your incompetence." But those words held far less power now that Athena had seen genuine feeling in his eyes, and she barely heard them at all.

Detective Fulbright was meanwhile bawling, his head held back, one hand pinching his nose as the other waved a tissue. "Oh, Prosecutor Blackquill! Rescuing the young defense attorney from a watery grave! I'm so proud of you—my rehabilitation must surely be working!" he cried. "Before long, you'll be rescuing cats from trees and helping little old His Honors across the street!"

Athena huffed. "I know how to swim, you know! Besides, if anyone is doing any saving, you can bet it'll be me." She shot Simon her most determined, earnest look. And I mean it. That's why I came back, after all.

The prosecutor said nothing but simply turned and walked away from the stage, Detective Fulbright and Marlon now in tow. Athena turned to meet her baffled boss.

"Are you okay, Athena?" he asked, and she nodded, her drenched hair spraying water around. "That was pretty surreal... You should've seen the way Prosecutor Blackquill shot over to the pool to help you as soon as I shouted your name, without any hesitation. I wonder what that was about?" Mr. Wright told her.

Athena feigned ignorance and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe his samurai instinct kicked in, damsel in distress and all." She then burst into a confident grin and added, "But little does he know, I'm a self-rescuing princess!"

Mr. Wright smiled softly. Thankfully, he seemed willing to let this mystery go. "Maybe. And hey, it looks like you got to take a dip in the pool, after all."

"Heh heh, yeah. A-anyway, what were you saying earlier, Pearl?" Athena asked, and Pearl eagerly proceeded to show them the results of her forensicking.

Athena was only half-listening, though: she couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the Twisted Samurai's angry, bitter, monochromatic layers was still Simon—her Simon—and it strengthened her resolve more than ever to save him, both from his false conviction and the loneliness that threatened to consume him.

Then, they could start to know each other again.