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“It’s perfect,” says Stelle with confidence, as she hits the shutter on the absolute worst photo known to man.
March groans from within the camera. It’s been day after day of this, and she is so sick of it.
Ever since Stelle and Dan Heng arrived in Amphoreus, they’ve been dutifully taking photos for her, just as promised. But—and here she wishes she could cry from inside the camera—why are all the photos terrible?! It’s not even that the subject matter is bad. No, the scenery of Amphoreus is gorgeous. But Stelle has apparently, in March’s absence, forgotten every single rule of photography.
March stares at the latest photo on the camera. If only the bridge were centered. If only she could change the photo, even just a little…
And then, out of nowhere, the photo changes.
March stares at it. The terrible photo of the bridge has changed. Now the bridge is perfectly centered, and the vantage point is better, capturing the sun glinting off of its distant arch. It looks—well, it looks like a photo that March herself would have taken.
“Hey,” says Stelle, frowning down at the camera screen. She shakes the camera a little. “This isn’t the photo I took.”
Dan Heng leans over her shoulder. “Hm,” he says, his expression not changing at all. “So it seems.” Then he goes back to the path, walking away.
Stelle grabs his sleeve. “Hey! Don’t you think it’s weird that the photo changed after I took it?”
“No,” says Dan Heng. Then he keeps walking.
Thank Aeons for Dan Heng, March thinks, looking at her beautiful photo. The bridge looks so nice in this one. She could even print this out and put it on her photo wall! This would look great in her journal, if she can wheedle Sunday into letting her use his color printer…
“Wait,” says Stelle. “I need to take another one. That one came out weird.”
Dan Heng sighs and turns back around. “Why? This one looks lovely. It’s framed well; surely March will like it. Let’s not keep Phainon waiting.”
“Ehhh,” says Stelle, already lining up another terrible shot. “Time isn’t real.”
“Actually,” says Dan Heng, and then he visibly thinks better of his lecture and shuts his mouth.
Stelle lines up the world’s worst photo of the bridge. If March thought the previous one was bad, this one is somehow even worse. The top of the bridge isn’t even in frame. Her thumb is in the lens, even though the camera lens extends past the normal reach of people’s fingers. And her hands are shaking so badly that she zooms way too far out. March’s eyes nearly hurt just looking at it.
“Perfect!” Stelle declares, and hits the camera button.
March despairs.
Dan Heng nods. “Let’s go now.”
Stelle happily skips over to his side. They venture down the path, back towards Okhema where Phainon is waiting for them.
The minute Stelle tucks the camera away again, March deletes the second photo off the memory card.
***
It happens again at the dromas stables.
“Hold on,” Stelle yells, balancing precariously on Dan Heng’s shoulders. “I just need it to turn a little more. I want it to be a head-on shot, like you’re having a staring contest. Dan Heng, can you move to the left at all?”
Dan Heng makes a strange and pained sound. He steps to the left and then sways on his knees scarily far.
March can’t watch this. They really need her around to mediate these kinds of things. Dan Heng is too much of an enabler to be responsible. At least March’s bad ideas are an alternative to Stelle’s bad ideas; Dan Heng just sides with whichever of them is more reasonable, so without March around, he’s always siding with Stelle. Terrible.
“Further left!” Stelle cries, seemingly unaffected by Dan Heng’s alarming instability.
“Why,” says Dan Heng through gritted teeth, “didn’t you take off your gear before we did this?”
Stelle looks down at him, affronted. “I need my baseball bat while I’m up here! I can’t be caught without it, you know. I’m the Galactic Baseballer. What if someone wants autographs?! I have to be on brand.”
Dan Heng sighs and holds on tighter to Stelle’s legs.
“Oh, it’s looking this way!” Stelle says, delighted. “Okay, now I hold out the clay, and with the other hand, I’m gonna get the picture. Watch!”
With her left hand, she holds out the red clay. The dromas swivels around, drawn by the scent. Stelle whoops in victory. She holds the camera tightly in her right hand, and just as the dromas leans in, she braces her finger on the button, and—
The dromas smears the red clay all over the camera lens.
Stelle yelps. She topples off of Dan Heng’s shoulders directly into the mud.
March sighs as she examines the memory card. The photo is all red clay and dromas tongue; there’s none of the eye contact Stelle had been hoping for.
If only Stelle had hit the shutter just a few instants earlier. She would have gotten the perfect photo, just how she wanted. The dromas’s eyes had been full of curiosity and fascination. Even March would have liked that photo. And Stelle would be so pleased with the result. She’d smile and give Dan Heng a giant hug and then they’d both smell like dromas manure all day…
March smiles fondly just thinking about it. She imagines it: the perfect photo, with giant dromas eyes and a curious mouth and…
“Woah!” says Stelle delightedly, as she wipes off the camera lens with her sleeve. “Dan Heng, look!!”
Dan Heng props his head on top of hers. He looks down at the camera. “Oh. It worked.”
Stelle frowns up at him, planting one hand on her hip. “Don’t sound so surprised! My ideas always work.”
Dan Heng raises one eyebrow.
“Frequently,” Stelle corrects. “My ideas frequently work.”
Dan Heng says nothing.
“Sometimes they work in a way that people just don’t understand yet.”
“Of course,” says Dan Heng. “Well, you got your photo. Can we go bathe? You smell terrible.”
Stelle sticks her tongue out at him. “Yeah, yeah. You smell worse, idiot.”
Dan Heng smiles, though he tries, rather poorly, to hide it. Together they walk back toward the bathhouse.
March frowns. They didn’t get the photo. It was a blurry mess of dromas tongue and out-of-focus red clay. Wasn’t it…?
But when she looks back at the memory card’s record, the original photo is gone. In its place is the exact photo she had been imagining: the dromas’s curious eyes, staring at the viewer, and its mouth almost ready to lick the red clay. It’s even framed nicely, with none of the shakiness Stelle had been demonstrating before she took it.
March is certain the photo hadn’t looked like that before. But the end result is better, so she’ll take it.
***
“Okay,” says Stelle to the camera, like she’s filming a vlog. She puts her hands together and gives the lens a giant grin. “So today we’re trying all five different flavors of honeycakes! They have chocolate, pistachio, pomegranate, fig, and plain honey. And with me today we have—” She leans out of frame and drags a sheepishly-grinning looking man into the frame. “—Special guest star Phainon of Aedes Elysiae!”
“You know this isn’t a video camera,” Dan Heng says from behind the lens.
“Whatever,” says Stelle, unbothered. “Anyway, if you take a lot of photos, it’s basically the same as a video, right?”
From inside the camera, March sighs. Dan Heng sighs in unison with her.
“Hi, Miss March,” says the man, beaming brightly. “I’m Phainon! These two say you like sweets, so I’m treating them to Mydei’s favorite place to take photos for you!”
“She can’t hear you,” says an increasingly exasperated Dan Heng.
March huffs. She totally can hear them!! So rude. Dan Heng just has no imagination. He’s too practical.
“She’ll hear the love in the photos,” Stelle says sagely.
Okay, well, that’s not really true either. March doesn’t know who to side with anymore.
“Anyway,” says Phainon, pulling a plate into view. “These are the pomegranate ones—Mydei’s favorite—and this is the plain honey flavor—the one Mydei did an advertisement for—and this is the pistachio one—Mydei doesn’t like the color on these, he says it looks unnatural—and this is the fig one—which is my favorite, but Mydei doesn’t think it’s sweet enough—and this is—”
“We literally get it,” Stelle interrupts. “You’re obsessed with him.”
Phainon turns a little pink. “Well—”
“You are,” says Dan Heng, completely deadpan. Then he clicks the button, taking a photo. March laughs as it captures him in his full glory, blushing bright red with all of the pancakes surrounding him on the table.
Phainon looks defeated. He sighs heavily, staring off into space. “I’m not obsessed with him,” he says. “I just think about him all the time. And I like to fight him. And I want to take him to the baths at least twice a day, but ideally thrice.”
Stelle looks into the camera lens with a remarkably devious expression.
“Anyway,” says Phainon rather loudly. He holds up the plate of pink pomegranate pancakes, which are roughly the same shade as his face. Behind the camera, Dan Heng makes a sound suspiciously like a laugh. “Should we start with these?”
He and Stelle sample all five flavors of pancakes, still acting like they’re vlogging it the whole time. Dan Heng occasionally snaps photos. Sometimes Stelle passes a fork over the camera, and Dan Heng must be taking it because he gives his opinion on the flavors afterwards.
March can’t help smiling as she watches them. She’d been so lonely in those ninety-seven days; it’s reassuring, at least, to know that her companions are having a good time. And that they’re thinking of her while they do it. Each time Stelle gives her opinion, she does it exactly as she would if March were there to discuss with her. And each time Phainon says something, he addresses it to ‘Miss March,’ like she’s some kind of authoritative entity.
“Okay,” says Stelle, putting both her hands down on the table. “Now that we’ve tried all the types of pancakes, we have one final mission.”
Phainon looks at her curiously. “Yes?”
Stelle locks eyes with the camera, deathly serious. “We,” she says, “have to try all of them at once.”
Silence. Phainon stares at her. Dan Heng also stares at her over the camera lens.
“What?” says Stelle, raising her eyebrows. “It’s like a combo pizza. You know? Like, the more the merrier. So we have to eat all five at once.”
“I don’t think that’ll taste good,” says Phainon faintly.
“Or fit in your mouth,” says Dan Heng drily. His hand briefly enters the frame; he motions toward the pancakes, which are fluffy enough that a stack of three is nearly the height of his whole hand.
“The lion does not concern himself with pancake width,” Stelle says loftily. Then she picks up her knife and starts cutting the pancakes.
“The lion…” says Phainon dreamily. He props his hand in his chin. “I bet Mydei could fit all five pancakes into his mouth. I wonder if he can unhinge his jaw?”
“You should ask him,” Stelle says eagerly. “Say, Hey, Mydei, want to find out if you can fit five pancakes in your mouth? Better yet, I’ll ask him. I think I have his number. Hold on.”
Dan Heng calmly reaches across the table and takes her phone from her hands.
“Hmph,” says Stelle, crossing her arms. “You’re no fun.”
She reaches into her bra and pulls out another phone. Without even hesitating, Dan Heng confiscates this one too.
“Darn,” says Stelle. She returns to cutting up the pancakes.
Phainon pulls out his phone and begins typing.
“Please don’t,” says Dan Heng, sounding a little desperate.
“He won’t mind,” says Phainon brightly. “I text him ridiculous things all the time! Last night I asked if he thought ketchup was a fruit or a vegetable.”
Dan Heng sighs. He reaches out and takes Phainon’s phone too.
“Okay,” says Stelle, looking into the camera with giant eyes like she’s filming a clickbait video. “Boom! All five pancake flavors stacked together. Now let’s see how they taste.”
Then, without preamble, she shoves all five pieces of pancake into her mouth at once.
Stelle maintains eye contact with the camera. She chews. She chews some more. She chews even more.
“…So?” says Phainon, looking at her.
Stelle holds up one hand. She chews even more.
Dan Heng changes the angle of the camera. He takes a photo of the five plates of pancakes. He frames it nicely, and even gets the lighting right. Why isn’t he taking all the photos? March should have specified this. She should have said, Hey guys, I know I’m kind of frozen and violently ill, but can you make sure Dan Heng is the one taking the photos for me? Never let Stelle get her hands on this bad boy. Thanks. Love you.
The camera suddenly pans back to Stelle. She dramatically swallows. Then she looks right at the camera.
“What’s the verdict?” Phainon says.
Stelle licks her lips. She picks up her fork. Then, holding the fork like a microphone up to her mouth: “That was terrible.”
“…” says Dan Heng.
“…” says Phainon.
“…” says March from inside the camera.
“I’m gonna do it again,” says Stelle enthusiastically.
Phainon watches as she begins cutting pancakes again. Then, turning to look above the camera, “Is she always like this?”
Dan Heng makes a noise halfway to a laugh. “You have no idea,” he says, though it comes out more fond than exasperated.
March smiles, just a little. If only someone were to snap a photo of Stelle right now, completely in her element. It would make the perfect memento of their time.
And then, without anyone clicking the button, the camera fires off.
March blinks. She stares at the new photo on the memory card. It’s a photo of Stelle eagerly loading up her fork with the ridiculously fluffy pancakes, with a concerned Phainon and an amused Dan Heng watching her. It’s exactly the photo she had wished for. It’s the perfect way to capture the moment.
But—and here March can’t quite figure it out—no one pressed the button. And even if they had pressed it by accident, they couldn't have possibly gotten that angle. Dan Heng hasn’t been in frame; the camera is in his hands. But this photo shows the whole table, like someone else had taken the photo entirely.
…Almost like March herself had taken the photo.
But then Stelle laughs and starts chowing down on her massive pancake stack again, and Dan Heng nearly drops the camera, and Phainon is trying to fit a stack of all five pancakes into his mouth too, and March is too busy laughing at them to worry about it any longer.
***
“Hey,” says Stelle, as she’s sitting in their combined room in the bathhouse. “We’ve never taken a selfie all together.”
Dan Heng hums in confirmation. “Should we take one now?”
“Well, no,” says Stelle. “You’re shirtless.”
March immediately shuts her eyes. The camera lens is covered, but still! She doesn’t need to see that!!
Dan Heng sighs. “I am not shirtless,” he says. March, relieved, opens her eyes again. “This is traditional bathhouse clothing. I’m more clothed than most people here, in fact. You never call Mydei shirtless.”
“Well, he’s got the cultural nudity thing going on, so it’s normal,” says Stelle, quite reasonably. “And you’re usually wearing a lot of shirt. This is, like, eighty percent less shirt than you usually wear.”
Dan Heng gives her an absolutely brutal silent treatment.
“Okay, okay,” says Stelle. She finally takes the camera out. March peeks through the lens; thankfully, Dan Heng isn’t actually shirtless. He’s just wearing a bathing robe that leaves his arms exposed. “What about our selfie, though?”
“I thought you didn’t want to do that while I was in this state of dress.”
“I was joking,” says Stelle. “You might not have noticed, because I’m usually so serious, but that was called humor, Dan Heng.”
Dan Heng’s mouth quirks up. He shakes his head gently, like he’s laughing just a little.
“Anyway,” says Stelle, “should we go find a bunch of people? We can take a selfie with Aglaea and Tribbie and Castorice. Oh, and Mydei and Phainon will be here in the evening, because they’re always here in the evening. So we can probably organize some kind of giant group thing where we get a selfie with all of them. You think March would like that?”
March’s heart hurts a little. She doesn’t even know who half of those people are. Sure, it sounds nice to meet them all, but what she really wants is—
“Actually,” says Dan Heng, softer than usual. “What if we take a photo right now? Just the three of us.”
Stelle pauses. The camera finally holds still in her hands. “Three?”
“You, me, and March.”
March’s heart leaps. She looks at him through the lens, and her vision starts to blur. The joy wells up in her chest so strongly that she swears she can make the camera smile too.
“Yeah,” says Stelle, quieter than usual. She smiles gently. “Alright. Just the three of us. Just like always.”
She turns the camera around. Her hand is a little shaky, but March doesn’t mind. Next to her, Dan Heng even smiles.
“Don’t forget to leave space for her,” Stelle says seriously. She wraps her arm around the empty air next to her like there’s really a person there.
Dan Heng looks sideways at Stelle. Then, slowly, he puts his arm out too.
“On three,” says Stelle, beaming. “One, two—”
She snaps the photo.
Dan Heng looks at her, smiling exasperatedly. “You never wait until three.”
“It’s more fun that way. You never know when it’s coming.” Stelle loops the camera string around her wrist and holds out her hand to Dan Heng. “Let’s go to the baths now! We can find Aglaea and get a photo with her, too. Then maybe we can try out those new bubbles that I brought.”
Dan Heng makes a skeptical noise, but he takes her hand regardless. The camera swings in between their joined hands, like March is really there between them.
If only she had been there too, standing between them in that photo. If only she had been in the middle of that hug, enjoying Amphoreus alongside them.
Quietly, the memory card in the camera whirs. The photo changes.
In between Dan Heng and Stelle’s empty arms stands March, beaming with her whole face, hugging both of her companions back. The three of them, wearing matching bathhouse outfits and matching smiles. Blazing a trail together like they’re one collective unit.
Maybe someday they’ll look in the camera’s photo history and see her with them. Maybe not. Either way, March looks at the photo, and her heart fills with joy.
They’ll find her. She has faith in her companions. They’ll find her, and save her, and then they’ll trailblaze together again. Just like she’s always wanted.