Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ratio woke up to a blaring noise on his ship’s console. Red lights flashed in his face, and he took a moment to remember where he was. A stray rock had hit, tearing away a panel, causing the ship’s computer to freak out and stop the space-jump. Sighing, Ratio got up and searched the console for a nearby planet to emergency-land on. When he couldn’t find one close enough, he looked upwards and spotted one just a few minutes away. He couldn’t make it out, and he never remembered seeing it before—this side of the galaxy was familiar to him, sure, but he’s never been stopped so suddenly in the middle of his travels. Still, the damage wasn’t devastating, so it didn’t matter what the planet was, as long as he could stop for a few moments.

He was on his way to a meeting that was laid upon him with barely any warnings. He only had two days to get his things situated in the ship’s storage compartment, which practically felt like two hours what with all his teaching and grading. The ship itself was old and many things made the computer buggy; a whole rock hitting it would do no good—the space-jump function would work incorrectly, and Ratio has gone through his fair share of incidents. But he trusted this ship. It was the one his birth mother had given to him ages ago as a parting gift—it was half sentimental as to why he still used it.

Nine minutes, he was approaching the planet. It looked less lush than he’d hoped it would, as if the color of it was slowly being sucked away. He frowned, but landed in one of the many empty forests. Once he got there, he realized it was quiet. Silent. There were no animals. There were no people. Despite managing to make out some sort of town or base on his observation from far away, he felt utterly alone. A shiver ran down his spine, and he got to work on his ship quickly, rummaging through old hunks of metal for any replacement of the torn-off panel. Of course, he couldn’t fix the space-jump function accordingly as of now, but he decided that was fine—better off slowly getting to the meeting than not at all. He left as early as he could for a reason…

He stayed with his ship for only thirty minutes yet he only discerned as much as a bird chirping in the distance. There was some rustling in the trees, perhaps a small buzzing in the bushes. Something was wrong, though, and he didn’t want to figure it out for any longer. The planet had an eerie peculiarity to it that screamed ‘something went down,’ but he had no resources nor knowledge to pinpoint it.

When he stepped back onto the ship’s opening to leave, he suddenly heard the wail of a baby. He almost tripped upwards due to the sound being so sudden, but immediately felt dread set like a stone in his stomach. What was a baby doing out like this? From what he recalled, the base he saw wasn’t for another few days if not weeks. He thought endlessly before realizing he already jumped out the ship and ran to action, following those desperate cries.

She was in a clearing around tall oak trees, a dirty pond was a few feet away, some white flowers were littered around the waved basket-carrier that she was in. She kept sobbing, her dark brown hands fumbling with the white blanket on top of her. She was alone. Utterly, undeniably, alone. Ratio made out no voices, no shuffling, nothing. She was left here, and that was that.

Ratio swallowed thickly and approached the baby with tense shoulders and fingers. She had wailed louder when he accidentally stepped on a twig; sensitive ears, sensitive heart. He didn’t have much interaction with babies, but he thought her to be a few months old, no more than six, no less than four. There was a note underneath a rock beside her carrier that he didn’t recognize at first glance, and he didn’t have much time to study it. He picked the carrier up, no use in hesitating now.

He tried shushing her, but the more she cried, the faster his heart beat. He turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could. A deep, deep feeling of pure parental instinct overtook him, and he kept telling her that it would be okay, over and over again. Once he made it to the ship, he cleared the small table consisting of tools, ignoring the clanging and mess they made on the ground, and placed the baby on it carefully. He headed up to his cargo via a ladder and went through his boxes, and finally found what he was looking for.

It was a while ago when he took a woman in labor onto his ship, telling her to breathe as he grabbed his blue rubber gloves with shaky hands. He’s seen the process before, he’s studied it on his own down time when he was bored, he’s touched and held worse things than blood and umbilical cords. After nine hours, a boy was born, and Ratio had the honor of helping the half-asleep mother pick out a name: Arnav. Ever since, he’s had baby supplies such as diapers, bottles, and powdered formula. (Usually he’d donate the formula after a while so as to not waste it, but it finally seemed as though it had a true use this time around.)

He grabbed the kitchen set he has on hand and brought it down, then began to prepare the milk after cleaning his hands. Having no idea how exactly old she was, Ratio decided on 6 ounces just to be safe. It felt like a lifetime once the water was hot enough, but he prepared the bottle and scooped up the baby as gently as he could. He let her grab hold of the bottle for purchase as she sucked away. She calmed down, tears still dripping down her face and snot all over her nose, of which Ratio tried his best to clean without disturbing her. She finally opened her eyes to look at Ratio. Big, gorgeous, light pistachio-green eyes peer up, and Ratio felt something inside of him break.

He thumbed through her little curly hair, black at the roots but a natural spring green gradient showed halfway through, the same for her eyelashes. She had two stumps on either side of her head that he assumed were horns—the one on the left looked damaged, abruptly cut off. She had a mole below her lip on her left, mirroring Ratio’s own on his right, and tiny freckles all over her face and shoulders. She also had a wide nose, scrunching up as she ate vigorously. Ratio could not think clearly for one in his life. He had tried counting, a method he did in order to calm himself, but listening to the baby breathe was soothing enough. He sniffled, ignoring the feeling of something wet falling down his chin and dropping onto her makeshift diaper out of the white blanket she was previously covered in.

He would need to tell his co-workers at the meeting about this dilemma, but for now he has to get off this planet. When the baby (and he really ought to find a name for her) finishes her meal with a squirm, he takes the bottle away from her and puts it on the table next to her carrier. He picked up his mess from before and carried the baby up into the cockpit. Now that she was satisfied, Ratio noticed she was extremely curious about everything, reaching out towards buttons and cooing at Ratio’s clothes. When he took out his phone to send a text to the group chat about the situation before takeoff, he grimaced as he felt the baby gnaw at his white cloth.

Dr. Ratio: A situation has occurred that will lengthen my travels. It might hinder my ability to add to the meeting accordingly this evening as well.

Xinrui: ?

Xinrui: How come?

Dr. Ratio: I will not skirt around it. I have, suddenly and accidentally, acquired a baby.

Parisa: As in you accidentally gave birth? What?

Dr. Ratio: Use your brain. I had to stop at a planet to repair my ship and I happened to hear a baby cry. With no parent or town close by, I took it upon myself to make sure she is safe and sound. This incident has messed with my ship's space-jump function. 

Alamilla: As expected of the Mundane Doctor.

Alamilla: I assume during this meeting you think the baby will interrupt us?

Dr. Ratio: More so “distract” you. If you can handle a baby being present at the meeting, that is fine by me; however, it might be best to postpone it.

Xinrui: Maybe we can find a babysitter? My sister lives on this planet and has two grown kids. She also works at a daycare. She could take care of the baby if you’d like.

Parisa: Xinyi? Yes, Dr. Ratio, she is wonderful with children. My nephew adores her.

Ratio blinked at the screen for a moment. The baby in his arms babbled as they entered the atmosphere of the planet. He sucked a breath in.

Oh dear.

He’s attached.

He didn’t mean it—he didn’t want it, not this soon, anyway. But watching her stare at the stars in wonder did something to make his head spin. His thumbs paused before he responded.

Dr. Ratio: That would be a good idea.

He puts his phone down and doesn't check when it buzzes. He looked down at the baby gripping his clothes. “Venus, “ he whispered like a little secret kept just between the two of them. She stared up at him, green and wonderful. “Venus.” And when she laughed, for the first time smiling a gummy smile, he couldn’t help but kiss her on the forehead.

It would take a little over ten system hours until Ratio would reach the planet. Apparently, this time around, the space-jump function refused to land exactly on the planet that was put into the coordinates, and there would be a delay. It also meant, more importantly, that if Venus had a good schedule, around four feedings. He had enough formula and water to feed her well over six ounces per hour for ten hours: sixty, he thought to himself. Three ~28-ounce cans of baby formula were on his ship at a time, ~84 in total. He counted the times Venus would breathe in a minute: 36, 34, 35, 37. She made no sudden movements, now content in Ratio’s arms. He counted stars, lights, buttons, then…

Venus’ breath quickened as she looked at her surroundings. She whipped her head around, at the kitchen then up at Ratio and wailed. She was looking for her caretaker(s) or at least someone she recognized. Of course she was. She was taken by a strange man into a strange ship and into space where, presumably, she had never gone before. At so many miles per hour, she was probably disoriented, and so, so scared. Of course she was.

Her cries got worse, and that’s when Ratio noticed it must be from something else. She already ate a few moments ago, he thought to himself, trying to keep himself calm and collected. He hated loud noises, and would rather put on his plaster head and ignore the outside world, but now he had to be present. When she began to drool, it finally clicked in his head: teething. He took her in his arms and went over to the water system, grabbed a washcloth, and ran it under cold water. He situated her with one arm and opened her mouth gently, then applied pressure with the washcloth.

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, already feeling the woes of parenthood. “You’re all right, it’s all right.” Venus sniffled, hiccuped, leaned into Ratio’s touch.

“Awaa,” she voiced, “a-ga…” Ratio nodded as if understanding. “Awawa…”

“I know, I know.”

Eventually, Venus settled down and Ratio placed the washcloth elsewhere. He went over to the cockpit and brought out a small box of little toys and trinkets he had for whenever children or fidgety people came onboard. (Paper clips, magnets, dice, poker chips, and fake leaves were among the trinkets.) He took out a matryoshka doll, wanting to know if Venus could figure out what to do with it. It was also an excuse to distract her and leave to see if he had something akin to a crib (that wasn’t the carrier).

In a few minutes, when he finally found a cardboard box and extra cushions, he saw that Venus had taken out all of the dolls and was about to put the last one in her mouth. In an act of terror, he placed the cushions in his hands down and sprinted over to take the doll from Venus’ hands. She peered up at him in surprise and confusion, babbling in a questioning tone. “Do not put ridiculous things in your mouth. You are no fool.” He was just saying things now, but it was helpful seeing as Venus laughed and ignored the dolls.

He couldn’t help but smile as he placed the dolls back in their rightful places. He watched Venus undo his action quickly. She was a fast learner, it seemed. He looked upon her quietly, warmly, eyes going over her features again and again, wondering who her parents were. The horns were a mystery—they were light brown, unlike anywhere else, and were obviously in the middle of growing. At least, one side was. Her left horn looked healthy, or he assumed it did, he couldn’t tell what it would end up looking like. Her right horn, however, wasn’t as tall as the other one, and it didn’t look natural. It was jagged, most likely cut when she was younger, whenever they first started growing, Ratio frowned. It was probably painful, if they were like normal horns, but he wanted to know why only one was cut.

Venus was decidedly done with the dolls, and rolled onto her stomach. “Nawawa-woo,” she said. He nodded along with her. “A-moo.” He reached out, and she took his finger. “Da-wawa-woo.”

“You are exceptionally vocal,” he mused, delicately touching her healthy horn. She suddenly frowned and jumped back but figured out it wasn’t a bad touch, then leaned back in. He rubbed the horn a little with his thumb, feeling for grooves and edges. He used his other hand to try to touch the cut horn. Venus shook and sobbed, cringing away from his hands and trying to crawl back but stumbling on her feet. Ratio withdrew without hesitation, and gave her a moment to recollect herself. Within two minutes, her crying subdued and she let him touch her.

It was then that he smelled something awful, and he sighed heavily.

Nine more hours to go.

He landed on the planet—usually called Orion-24b or ‘Orion’ for short. It was full of endangered species,  of which Ratio had done extensive research on when he was understanding the cause of a certain fatal disease. Now, the endangered species were finally flourishing back to life, and it was his job as well as three others’ to journal this event in history and inform the new citizens and politicians on how to protect the environment. But with a baby, first, he’d need to speak with Xinyi.

Xinrui: She’s at this address. I told her ahead of time that you’d be there soon.

Dr. Ratio: I appreciate the effort.

Xinrui: Sure thing! Hey, in return, would you let me name the baby?

Dr. Ratio: No.

Parisa: [Sticker_Dr_Ratio_Cracked_Head]

Ratio walked into the neighborhood, looking down at his phone frequently to make sure he was going in the right direction. Venus tried reaching out to his hand that held the carrier, but was unsuccessful. She still tried, though, and Ratio felt oddly proud of her for doing so. He finally got to the house and rang the doorbell, trying to keep his uninterested gaze even and on the door. It wasn’t working—he wanted to smile at Venus.

Xinyi, a smaller woman with pale skin and short, dark blue hair, looked up at Ratio, then at the baby in the carrier. “Ah,” she said, eyebrows raising, “come in.” He followed her inside, and he immediately saw pictures on the walls and tables. He made out figures of a man and a woman, presumably Xinyi’s children. The place looked lived in, with worn down corners and scratches on the wooden floor. The kitchen felt like a warm embrace, and Ratio released a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Peng Xinyi,” Ratio greeted, bowing his head slightly. Xinyi smiled at him and shook her head.

“Just Xinyi, Doctor.”

“Then just Veritas for me,” Ratio responded.

“All right, Veritas. Would you like some tea?”

Ratio nodded, sat down at the bar that separated the kitchen from the  living room. She began to boil water and herbs in a white kettle and grabbed two mugs from a wooden cabinet. As the beverage started to heat up, she went over to Venus and hummed. “I’ll have to weigh her,” she said, waving her finger above Venus who grabbed it after a moment, “but she looks very healthy. Around five months old, maybe?”

“Five months…” Ratio muttered out loud, looking down at a playful Venus.

“... Veritas, how exactly did you find her? Xinrui said nobody was around to claim her, but was there something left? Maybe a clue as to what happened?”

Ratio rummaged in his pocket for a second before bringing out the scribbled-on paper. “There truly was nobody else around, Xinyi. I spotted a town, yes, but it was much too far away to go to for the urgency of the issue. I assume it has people, given her being there, though, but what she was doing out there is a mystery. Or, and I doubt it, someone dropped her off via a spaceship.”

Xinyi hummed, taking the paper and opening her phone. “This is a little too… messy. I can try translating it.” When she took a photo and scanned it, she gritted her teeth and cautiously showed Ratio.

“Aeons, forgive me,” he reads aloud. The kitchen became silent, save for Venus’ cooing. There wasn’t much of a doubt about it—the more he looked at it the more it became clear. One side is torn, most likely ripped from a bigger piece of paper; he could tell that whoever wrote it usually had better handwriting, but the words were hastily thrown together. Whatever the situation was, it was obvious that it was immensely important for Venus to get out of where she came from. Ratio didn’t want to know what would have happened to Venus had he not found her by chance.

“Poor thing,” Xinyi murmured, placing a hand on Venus’ cheek, who smiled at her with glistening green eyes. “... She has horns,” Xinyi noted. “Which species has horns…?”

“I’m not sure what shape they will grow into,” Ratio told her, crossing his arms, “and she has no other features visibly aside from them.”

The tea kettle whistled. Xinyi clicked her tongue and excused herself. “Does she have a name?” she asked, pouring the tea into the mugs.

“Not when I found her.”

Xinyi’s lips twitched into a smile and she sighed. “No,” she said sweetly, “have you given her a name?”

Ratio sort of scoffed but thanked Xinyi when she placed the tea in front of him on a coaster. “Of course I have,” he grumbled, and if he was blushing profusely, so what? “I named her Venus.”

“Venus,” Xinyi echoed. Venus does not yet understand the significance of the name, does not yet perk up when it was called. “Venus, yes, that’s a very pretty name. Veritas and Venus Ratio.” (That got Ratio to sputter. He covered it up by clearing his throat and sipping his tea.) “What does it mean?”

“My culture has more old stories about gods and goddesses than Aeons. I am named after the goddess of truth. Venus was the goddess of love and beauty.” Xinyi’s smile widened. Ratio debated bringing out the plaster head. Xinyi took pity on him and went back to looking at Venus’ horns. As Ratio did on the ship, she touched the healthy one first. But before she could even think about touching the other one, Ratio stood up abruptly and startled the both of them. “She’s sensitive there. The horn looks cut off. Do not touch it.” He said it almost with a hiss, glaring at Xinyi, who stared at him for a moment before she put her hands by her sides. He blinked at her, then sat back down. “I apologize for the outburst.”

“No, you’re protecting her,” Xinyi noted. “Do you plan on adopting her?”

The question was sudden. Ratio fell quiet.

He hadn’t. Not to begin with.

He said yes anyway.

Xinyi’s eyes gleamed a little differently then, and she brushed her bangs out of her face to show it. “Then promise me you’ll love her. As any father would.”

Father.

Ratio swallowed thickly, but his mouth felt dry nonetheless. “Right,” is all he said before Xinyi ushered him out the house to meet with his co-workers.

His arms felt empty.

Chapter Text

“Do you have any books on species with horns?”

The librarian paused for a moment before pushing her round glasses up with the palm of her hand. She inhaled, opened her mouth.

“With no other physical features, mind you. Aside from the horns, there is nothing else indicating their species.”

She stilled, closed her mouth, drawled out an ‘Uh…’ for a second or two. “The, uh, galaxy is humongous, sir, so they could very well be mixed, anywhere from two species to… well, a thousand.”

Ratio furrowed his eyebrows and placed a thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose. She was right, he shouldn’t get too angry about this. He was being vague, anyway. “All right, then… Would there be a book or map on the solar system we are in currently?”

At that, the librarian lit up and directed him to one of the aisles dedicated to the solar system. “Dr. Qadir was an ancestor of mine who charted the whole solar system. Eh… oh, here.” She grabbed a book from the shelf and skipped to one of the pages that had a large title of ‘Dr. Qadir.’ She pointed at one of the words and he, with a jerk of his eyebrow, leaned over to look at it. “Catalyst System, named after his relationship with his mother. There’s five planets in total—”

“There should be one more.”

“Huh?”

“In between these two, Antlia-72b and 89-39c. There should be another.”

The librarian made a face. “There’s no other planet between the two. I mean, unless Qadir missed one or something. It’s unlikely that a planet grew all by its lonesome in such a short amount of time. But… I’ll look into it.”

Ratio frowned but didn’t respond. That was certainly something worth thinking about. He bid the librarian farewell and went to look through a few of the books in the aisle, but there was absolutely nothing on the planet, let alone the people that lived there. Some books mentioned an asteroid or even a dwarf planet to excuse the strangely large gap, but it didn’t make any sense. Even the modern books were barely updated. Ratio knew it was a small planet, easily missed especially if space-jumping was taken into consideration, but it was still a planet, someone must have found it one day. Even having one town was incentive enough to go there—the Catalyst System had no other inhabitable planets, they were neighbors for Aeons’ sakes.

It was then that he remembered the last time he visited Orion; he hadn’t seen anything then either. It was… he counted… a while ago. It had to be a few years. The point is, it was odd that a planet was woven into the system so intricately. The only way that could realistically be possible if it was created… by…

And that’s when the Aeons came to mind.

Ratio did not care much for Aeons, at least not anymore. Sure, there was a time when he longed for Nous to notice him, and maybe he still did, but with wisdom comes acceptance. There were much more important matters to focus on, and he deemed humanity to be the one thing worthwhile. But back when he was giving his all in making Nous give him as much as a glance, and even recently when working with Screwllum on the Human Comedy, he had put in countless hours of time into research on Aeons. He had begun with Nous, of course, but needed an Aeon closer to humans, with more tangible documentation.

He had studied Yaoshi. Yaoshi, and THEIR consistent willingness to answer humanity’s requests. Yaoshi, and THEIR impact on the Xianzhou Alliance, how near-immortality comes at a great cost. Yaoshi, and how THEY can’t seem to just peacefully satisfy a prayer. Ratio had thought THEY got joy out of it, or maybe THEY at least knew what THEY were doing, but his research called against that. THEY wanted good. It was just difficult for mortals to comprehend THEIR power. And possibly, that was what happened to Venus’ home planet.

But with no answers and limited questions, he exited the library with a vague plan in mind and headed toward the business meeting. He went over the points he would hit in his head, along with the questions he would ask, and the questions he’d undoubtedly receive. He searched his old papers and notes to recall the information on the topic, but he mostly remembered falling in love with the rich forests and unique life forms. Contrary to popular belief, he could be emotionally driven at times, and choosing to rid the planet of the disease was of utmost concern to him at the time. Not even Nous could pull his attention away from nature and bettering everyone and everything around him. (And if that causes THEM to turn away from him, then so be it.)

He entered the building the meeting would take place in. He had put on his plaster head before walking in and went up the stairs to the third floor. Only one other person was in there: Alamilla, who greeted him briefly before remembering what the head meant.

“The others should be here in a few minutes,” Alamilla told him, red eyes looking at Ratio’s figure, then at the ground. He combed through his short, curly, dark brown hair and cleared his throat. He wore a plain red collared shirt with black slacks and loafers, and a blush ran to his olive cheeks. “Should have brought a book,” he mumbled to himself as he nervously fidgeted with his thumbs.

Alamilla was good with words when it came to publicly speaking to a crowd or group of people. But when it came to one or two individuals only… Ratio sighed. The room was too big for them, too fancy. The front office was comfortable, a quaint, open room with plenty of couches. It seemed as though whoever curated the meeting was anticipating a more serious atmosphere, but Ratio knew the people in charge of the planet, they were incredibly kind and humble. It must be for the politicians, then. Ratio sneered to himself under the mask.

Eight minutes later, with another ten until the meeting started, Xinrui and Parisa entered the room. Parisa was the head of the Environmental Protection Committee, and played a huge role in the planet’s authority. She was one of the first to study the wildlife and the disease along with Ratio. Although their studies were separate, they eventually came across each other and decided to pair up, with Parisa focusing on revitalizing the animals and Ratio finding ways to end the disease. After months, they had succeeded, and would become ‘saviors’ of the planet among those who lived there beforehand. Now that more people moved and traded, there needed to be more protection laws. Of course, having the ones who saved the environment at the meeting would be the first priority.

Ratio listened as Xinrui spoke with Alamilla about who else would be at the meeting. The two of them were citizens of Orion when the disease spread and had first hand experience with treating the animals. Ratio was thankful for them for having specific knowledge, and letting him dissect a few animals. (Despite Parisa’s sadness, Ratio convinced her it was for the better of Orion.)

Eventually, all of the higher-ups and politicians entered the room three minutes before the meeting would start. That alone was enough for Ratio to understand their personalities before they even had the chance to speak. And whenever one politician, an older man with fair skin and beauty marks, said anything about money, Ratio had to bite his cheek to not bring out his chalk-pen and bash him in the head. It wasn’t about money, Ratio thought to himself angrily, it was about being respectful to the land you live on. It wasn’t that difficult of a request.

(“We could really think about how much money the fur of the—”

Ratio whipped out his chalk and finally threw it at him with the force of a thousand suns. Parisa and Xinrui burst out in laughter while Alamilla tried to bring the peace back in the room.)

When Parisa spoke her mind on protection measures, Ratio decided to take the plaster head off. She did a rundown on the wildlife, of the symptoms of the disease and how to prevent it, among other precautions and measures. The meeting ran along smoothly save for the chalk-throw, and nobody dared to utter anything whilst Ratio was sharing his thoughts and warnings. Though, Ratio truly wondered if some of the people actually absorbed any of the vital information given. It went on for a while, much longer than he’d like, and he found himself thinking about Venus, because of course he did.

“If you find a juvenile without a parent, however, it's because it’s deemed unworthy of saving. When our vets…’ Alamallia was speaking now, much louder and more confident, but what he said was what ticks off some sort of parent-bomb within Ratio. He began to bounce his right leg up and down, suddenly antsy and impatient. He wanted the meeting to end. Needed it to end. Needed to get to Venus and make sure she was all right. He didn’t doubt Xinyi’s abilities, but he needed to see her. Those gorgeous green eyes, he needed to see them. Her cooing, her laughter, he needed to hear it. He needed her in his arms, he needed—he wanted—

“I… think we should call it a wrap on the meeting…” somebody eventually said beside him. His leg paused, his breathing stilled. They’re sort of looking at him, half in concern and half in judgement.

Alamilla blinked after he stopped talking and stared at the person next to Ratio. He cleared his throat and awkwardly nodded. “Any questions, then?” And when nobody responded, he turned as red as an apple and went to sit down where he previously was. “I think that was successful,” he whispered to Xinrui who snorted and put away her things. Ratio moved on autopilot, not particularly caring if it looked like he was rushing to get out of there because, well, he really was.

He placed his plaster head back on, nodded at Parisa who waved back, and left. He doesn’t bother talking to anybody else after that. Venus was the one and only thing on his mind.

“Awa-a-a…”

“Yes, indeed.”

“A-ppbbtt.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Ga-wa-wa-wa.”

“Is that so?”

“Ah. Ah.”

“Venus. Look at me.”

Venus did so without really meaning to. The voice was firm, low, loud. It was too distinct to just ignore.

“My name is Veritas. Would you like to try saying it?”

“... Boo.”

“That’s very good. Try it again. Veritas. Ver-i-tas.”

“Boo-boo. Boo… buh… Buh-buh!”

“You’re wonderful, that’s wonderful.” Ratio nodded to himself. There were less than three hours until the ship would arrive on Orion. Venus had become acquainted with a schedule, and was used to the stars whipping by outside. Ratio introduced her to the rooms of the ship, the cockpit, the storage space, the locker of clothes and various accessories. She had a string of large beads she had tried to put in her mouth one too many times, and a pair of lensless glasses that could poke her eyes out. Out of all the toys and trinkets, she picked the ones most likely to hurt. Ratio sighed endearingly.

There was also a book on quantum physics on the cockpit’s desk that Ratio read whenever bored. There was a cookbook with images and some other collection of poems with a tousled bookmark that Venus would play or look at, but those were all elsewhere, too far away, and Venus hated it whenever Ratio would leave her. This was her play time, and the cockpit was her play area, and if Ratio tried to take that away, he’d be in deep trouble (read: loud trouble).

“You are quite stubborn. You remind me of myself at a younger age,” Ratio said aloud, mostly to himself. Venus paid him no mind, trying to pull the beads apart. She was on the floor, but he was careful to watch her head, what with her moving around with no care in the world. He tapped in the chair he was sitting on to get her attention, and she looked up at him. She had good neck strength already, he noted to himself before she looked back down at the beads. She had great balance too, so he assumed her caretaker(s) at least tried to be present. He couldn’t be too sure with anything—she was in his hands now, he had to get her used to him, not whoever else that failed to provide, on purpose or not.

“My mother would have loved to see you.”

He paused. Where did that come from?

“... Anaticula…” It was what his mother called him. 'Little duckling,’ something his mother found amusing. He loved ducks when he was younger, it didn’t matter what kind. When he saved a duckling from being eaten by a snake and tended to its wounds when he was young, it had become attached to him and he then realized he loved to help. His mother would forever praise him for that day.

“Wa-wa-boo-boo.”

Ratio inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “Of course,” he told her, smiling softly. “My mother would have loved your hair, dear,” he said, the little name slipping out. “She would have loved your eyes. ‘Tales satis viridus oculos…’” He imitated his mother’s voice, each word sweet and gently like honey, spoken like he meant it. Because he did. Venus stared at him. He smiled a little wider, eyes starting to squint. “Mi ocelle. Mi ocelle, my little eyes.” Venus copied his expression and began to laugh. “Mi ocelle,” he said, and she reached out to him, beads in hands, eyes wide and full of love.

Ratio took off his plaster head and knocked on the door harsher than he meant to. Xinyi answered in thirty-two seconds with Venus in her arms. Ratio twitched a finger. Xinyi welcomed him back and told him to watch for the toys. Various items for upper-body support are laid around, and it was clear that Xinyi was trying to get a specific age for Venus, but she told him it was best to assume five months as she said before.

“She’s fourteen pounds, which is actually really good considering the state you found her and the planet in,” Xinyi explained over a fruit platter. Venus was back with Ratio, and he bit into an apple slice as he rocked her around a bit. She felt like a stack of books—which didn’t weigh much to him, so it checked out. “I would give her a few vaccine shots to be safe? She’s survived this long in an oddly empty world, so she might have a stronger immune system, but now that she’ll be traveling through a whole galaxy…”

“That would be for the best. I’ll have to go to a doctor, then.” When Xinyi blankly stared at him, he sighed heavily. “While I am also a doctor, I do not magically have everything on hand. Besides, I have never given a baby shots before, I would not want to harm her.”

“Ah,” Xinyi mumbled. “Well, I suppose… a wonderful first step would be to adopt her legally.”

“I’ve heard the process is quite complex,” Ratio said, “and I’ll have to gather information on her home planet to make sure I am not taking her away from anybody.”

“Will you go back?”

Ratio hummed. He looked down at Venus, who was content being cradled in his arm. He bit his lip. “I… cannot say. It would be a good course of action; however…”

“You don’t want to get rid of her for good,” Xinyi said with a knowing smile.

“The note had ‘Aeons forgive me’ on it,” he retorted, feeling defensive as if she didn’t know the situation as well. “She was alone, miles from any population in a random forest. What sort of man would I be if I had not taken her with me? I would not wish anyone to be left alone like that, even if they were an imbecile.”

Xinyi’s smile widened at that, and she popped a grape in her mouth. After she swallowed, she pointed at Venus, then at Ratio. “Then it’s information you shall find. You’ll be a good father, Veritas Ratio.”

Ratio squinted at her sudden compliment. “I will try my best.” Venus squirmed a little and cuddled closer to him. “For her sake.”

“Are you staying here tonight?”

“No, I should leave. I think I should leave for Pier Point and meet up with someone. I’ll have to go to the Intelligentsia Guild’s universities eventually, as well.”

“Ah, the students will definitely be wondering about her.”

“Tell me about it,” Ratio groaned, and Xinyi chuckled.

After a short exchange, Ratio finally stood up and took his leave. Xinyi bid him good luck and farewell, and told him she’d make Xinrui find a way to study Venus’ home planet and get back to him. She also gave him a few textured toys, proper teething medicine, and a few clothes in a bag. He left the humble household by shaking her hand, then headed to where the spaceships were held.

He set the carrier and bag down by his feet once he got into the cockpit and held up Venus under her armpits. In a flash of overwhelming feelings, Ratio started kissing Venus’ cheeks in a flurry, and she started to wiggle and giggle under his hold. In a few seconds he was done, and was immensely embarrassed despite nobody being around to witness what just happened, but at the same time he didn’t regret it.

He got the ship up in the air as Venus laid on his torso, falling asleep peacefully. He’d have to space-jump to space-jump to Pier point—or, well, close to it anyway. He sighed deeply to himself as the ship caught speed, low rumbling on a drone in the background as a soothing sound and feeling. “I need a bath,” he mumbled, placing a hand on Venus’ back and rubbing gently. “So do you, mi ocelle,’ he whispered, and she stirred slightly in response. He chuckled, and entered Pier Point as his destination on his console. He tried doing math in his head on how long it would take to actually get to the planet itself.

He held Venus tighter in his arms. The first space-jump was always uncomfortable—disorienting and dizzying. He remembered his first time. It was with his mother at the helm of the very ship he was in now. He was maybe four or five, and his curiosity was never satiated. His mother was to leave for an environmentalist meeting, and she warned him it would be boring, but that didn’t deter him. He got to that meeting queasy and couldn’t understand a word they said, not that he would have understood them otherwise. His mother wouldn’t let that day slip by his mind for years. He smiled to himself at the memory as the ship hummed louder, getting ready for the jump.

In a flash of blue, the ship disappeared. There was a moment of pure silence in pitch black nothingness, until Ratio opened his eyes with a jerk. The stars were familiar around him, he could make out a distant constellation that resembled a rose. He looked down and furrowed his eyebrows to discern whether or not Venus was all right. Despite being secure in his arms, Venus started sobbing. He shushed her, but when drool began to pool in her mouth and down her chin he grumbled and got up to clean her. However, she didn’t seem rattled by the jump. “Very strong,” he commended her, getting the teething medicine from Xinyi’s bag and a clean towel. “That may get you five points.” It was a stupid joke, he knew it, but Venus smiled at him despite her big tears.

Once done, Ratio settled back in his chair and rocked Venus to sleep in one arm. He used the other to fish his phone from his pocket and decided on who to message first. He cleared his throat and began to speak into the phone.

Dr. Ratio: Gambler. I am currently on my way to Pier Point. My ship’s jump-function malfunctioned and I plan on fixing it; however, it will take me around eight hours to reach the planet. Where will you be by then?

*Voice message converted to text

He didn’t have to wait long for the response.

Aventurine: Ah, I was wondering when your next visit would be, Doctor. And you bothered to tell little ol’ me?

Aventurine: I’ll most likely be at the casino. It’ll be nighttime by then. Why? Need to tell me something?

Ratio hated how he could tell how the blonde looked with every word, but huffed and continued.

Dr. Ratio: There is… something important I would like to discuss with you. I’ve decided to tell you specifically because I know you’ll keep it more hidden than someone like Topaz would.

*Voice message converted to text

Aventurine: Shucks, Doc

Aventurine: You trust me that much?

Dr. Ratio: If that makes you happy, yes.

*Voice message converted to text

Aventurine: Well, I’m excited to hear what it is. I hope excitement isn’t the wrong emotion haha

Dr. Ratio: What you feel is no concern of mine, as long as you can help me with the situation. I’ll need to look for some data within the IPC’s travels in the Catalyst System. The specifics can come later once we’ve situated. I suggest we meet at my place for privacy.

*Voice message converted to text

Aventurine doesn’t comment on the ‘we,’ nor on the odd instance of voice messages. In fact, he doesn’t comment at all, his attention likely being pulled away by someone or something. Ratio put his phone back in his pocket and stared out the window at the stars. His eyes grew heavy, and all thoughts escaped his mind.

In a moment of tranquility, Ratio fell asleep alongside Venus, and he dreamed of a garden—trees and flowers and butterflies. It was his mother’s garden. When he looked at the trail of dirt leading to his old home, he saw a strange woman with dark skin and large, brown antlers.

He didn’t get to process the familiar green eyes before his consciousness slipped away and he drifted off to a deeper sleep.

Chapter Text

The door unlocked easily with a click. Ratio entered with bags in one arm and a baby-carrier in the other, and shuffled over to his bedroom. He yawned, and put the baby on the purple-sheeted bed. She ogled at him, cooing and making little confused noises.

“I will run us both a bath, Venus,” Ratio told her tiredly, rubbing his left eye after putting the bags down. “Then, I will make a list of what I need to do for you. That gambler will then help me gather information about your home planet.” He thought for a moment then sighed. “And probably with expenses as well… Though he really shouldn’t bother—I can pay for you by myself… But the help is not unwelcome.”

Venus turned onto her back and open-close-opened her mouth. Ratio, amused, put his index finger in her mouth and pushed with a little pressure. She warbled like a frail animal and closed her eyes. She brought her hands up to her forming horns and started grasping at them. She was confused as to what they were, having seen them in her reflection in the spaceship’s windows. She was also confused as to why they hurt, and she kept batting at them despite the pain. Ratio frowned and took her right arm with his free hand to stop her, and she gasped at the feeling (or lack thereof).

“Bath time, mi ocelle.” Ratio got close to her and pressed his nose against hers, making her laugh. He took his finger out of her mouth and ignored the feeling of drool, then took her over to his bathroom. He turned the water on and it rushed down, making Venus flinch and watch it with wide eyes. He placed her on a towel on the floor as he got undressed, and she curiously moved around on it. When she pressed on the cold tiles, she whined and opted to watch Ratio, who had a small towel over his waist.

Before he began bath time, he found his phone and checked his messages for Aventurine. The gambler had only responded with one thing: I can meet you probably an hour after you get here. And that was that. Unimpressed with the short response, Ratio placed his phone elsewhere and tested the water of the tub. Lukewarm. “Ten minutes for you,” he told her, “but after that you’ll have to wait for me.”

After a few minutes, Ratio made a playpen out of pillows and towels, but assumed it would not hold Venus’ curiosity for long. He got out his collection of rubber duckies and gave her a few of the bigger ones in the tub. The water was a few inches high, and he had to make sure she was sitting upright and not on her stomach or back. He grabbed two small towels and a cup from under the cabinets before, and began to gently clean Venus. He let her lean back a little, and went over her body with soap. The process was surprisingly calming, and took enough focus for him to relax, the same as he would when reading a book.

Eight minutes later, Ratio finished her bath and let her play with the duckies for two more minutes. She loved the purple and green ones, for reasons Ratio could probably make out. Eventually, Ratio took Venus out of the tub and she wailed at him. He sighed. He got her hooked on baths just like his mother did with him. But he dried her off while draining the water and put her on the playpen, then ran the water once more. He got her dressed with a few of the clothes that Xinyi gave him until the water was to a good height and temperature, then got in. Since his usual bath time was most likely cut short with Venus around, he decided not to put in his usual salts and bubbles among other things. He’d just have to wait to take a long soak after she’s put to sleep.

He watched her every move but comfortably sat in the tub until he deemed it time to step out. For now, though, he allowed himself to take it easy.

Aventurine spent eight hours—no, it was almost nine, wasn’t it?—racking ideas as to what the doctor wanted to talk about. Was it something that happened in Orion, where his meeting took place? He had to keep it hidden, so maybe it was embarrassing, or maybe it could tarnish Ratio’s reputation… What could possibly be that debilitating to his public visage?! And what could he possibly want from the IPC’s data? What was over there, an unknown partner? A past tragedy he needed to cover up? Was he part of a secret BDSM club and needed to make sure his tracks are concealed?! Aventurine couldn’t think, he couldn’t even focus on the cards and poker chips across the casino. For nearly three hours his poker face looked like a mess!

Finally—finally—he got the chance to excuse himself once the time came to meet with Ratio. He had sent Ratio a text earlier but the doctor never responded, presumably tired from his expedition. He checked his go-to gossip site to see if anyone caught the doctor going through the guards or on his way back to his rental property, but there was nothing. It was pretty late at night, after all it was around quarter till midnight when Ratio landed. Still, Pier Point wasn’t a place known for silence, Aventurine was expecting something—a blur of blue or purple, a corner-shot of that infamous plaster head. But there was nothing. Aventurine was sort of jealous, but didn’t dwell on it for too long.

He knocked on the door. There wasn’t a response for two whole minutes. Save for the few lights inside, there wasn’t much of an indication of Ratio being home. He looked around at the property’s surroundings. There was a garden filled with blue irises and a few fig trees among bay laurel shrubs and other bushes. Now that he thought about it, Aventurine wasn’t sure if they were professionally planted by someone or if Ratio was secretly a master gardener… but with how he was always so flawless when it came to practically everything, it didn’t seem that surprising. Anyway, Aventurine decided to just press the doorbell a few times and waited a little while longer. Then, his phone buzzed.

Dr. Ratio: The door is unlocked. I apologize for not greeting you. [Noise detected, unable to recognize]

*Voice message converted to text

Aventurine scrunched up his nose and hesitantly reached for the doorknob before… he heard a noise from inside. It sounded like… crying? But not from Ratio. Not from anyone grown. Like… a baby…? Aventurine bit his lip and turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, and entered the warm embrace of the rental property.

He heard it again, the crying. It was from upstairs, and this time much more clear. It was definitely a baby, and Aventurine’s brain was now malfunctioning with any possible ideas. He was grasping at straws—was it Ratio’ s biological kid? Because that was definitely reasonable for the secrecy, but it didn’t add up, it didn’t make any sense. (Or perhaps Ratio turned into a baby himself? He scrapped the idea quickly. Not only had Ratio been texting him, the idea of a baby Ratio was too freaky for him to wrap his head around.) He couldn’t take it any more. He closed the door, locked it, took his shoes off, and exclaimed his entry loud enough so that Ratio could hear it over the baby. Probably. He heard something thud upstairs, making the baby wail louder, but before Aventurine could even think about checking it out, Ratio was heading downstairs with…

“Baby…” Aventurine said under his breath.

“Yes, and you yelling like that did not help one bit, gambler,” Ratio bit at him, rocking and shushing the baby. Aventurine looked on with wide eyes. Suddenly, he felt like he should leave, like he was interrupting a sacred moment between father and child.

“You… have…”

“She is not mine,” Ratio told him. “Well, she will be, once I’ve gotten her comfortable with me. I am planning on adopting her, and this is half of what you will help me with.”

“What.”

Ratio turned to look at Aventurine and gave him an incredibly unamused glare. But he went back to the baby in no time and kept telling her it was all right. He got out his thumb and opened her mouth, then pressed on her lower jaw, which made her stop crying if only for a few seconds.

“W-Wait. Wait, wait, how am I supposed… to help… with the adoption of—Doctor, Doctor, can you please tell me what in the cosmos is going on?!”

Ratio sighed but nodded. He led Aventurine over to the kitchen and gestured for him to sit, then began to speak as he got some things out of the cupboards. “I was on my way to Orion-24b when a stray rock hit my ship and tore off a panel. I had to land on a planet I have never heard of for repairs.” He took out a baby bottle and went to his pantry for formula. “Then, I heard this little one crying as she is now. It was days from any nearby population and there seemed to be nobody else around, so I took her in my care. She has become attached to me and… I have grown accustomed to her as well.” Aventurine noted the fond cadence to which Ratio regarded the baby as a water-filled pot began to heat up.

“So… you want to be her father. What, uh, what made you think there was nobody around on the planet? What if somebody left for a moment and was planning on coming back?” Aventurine knew it was a little pointless of him to ask. When Ratio did something it was rarely out of instantaneous action, he always was careful to take things slowly. Ratio hummed for a moment before bringing the baby up to his face with both hands.

“I admit, the decision to bring her with me was sudden,” Ratio said, and Aventurine’s breath hitched, “but I have my reasons as to why I did this. While she seemed to be well taken care of before my arrival, there was a note beside her under a rock. It read, ‘Aeons forgive me.’ Whatever happened cannot affect her now, Aventurine. I found her, and I will continue to be with her. I will not let anything else happen to her.”

Aventurine felt something in, or maybe near, his heart break. He nodded solemnly and slowly realized that the baby stopped crying. He looked at her on Ratio’s shoulder, peaceful and pleasant. Black-and-green hair against purple, dark sepia against a warm bronze. Aventurine smiled gently. It was a nice sight. “Does she have a name?” Aventurine doubted the same note would have included any specifics, but…

“I have named her Venus.”

Aventurine blinked. That was one of the goddesses from Ratio’s home planet, one that he’s mentioned before on their casual conversations across the cosmos. She represented beauty, mostly, and love. Aventurine couldn’t believe that #1 Hardest Professor in Two Amber Eras named his soon-to-be daughter, ‘Venus.’ Of all the things! He cleared his throat and chuckled nervously, shifting on his chair. “Well then. You needed my help with adoption? In what way? Agencies?”

“That would be a good start,” Ratio responded, letting the now-boiled water in the pot cool off. Venus babbled on his shoulder and he whispered something to her.

“... You also mentioned the IPC hopefully having data? On this planet, I assume, and the people that live there?” When Ratio didn’t answer, Aventurine knew he got it correct. He brought out his poker chip to fidget with it as he thought carefully. “I’ll have to dig around a little. It might take me a few days; three, give or take. In the meantime, however, will you allow me to buy things for our dear Venus?”

Ratio scoffed, but Aventurine placed his poker chip on the table and gripped his hands together and pleaded like Ratio was an Aeon. “Please, please! Oh, she’s so cute, come on, Doc! Can you imagine? Her in a mini bathtub while you take your own bath? A stroller so you can take her on nature walks while you get your steps in? Her very own rubber duckie to match yours? I could even get her a, a, what is it—a teether toy! A duckie teether toy! Yes! Oh, Ratio, wouldn’t that be so adorable? Even a onesie! Oh, a onesie… Doc, come on…”

“All right! Buy what you must, so long as you get your damn data.”

“Yes! Oh, you’ve awakened a beast!”

“I know,” Ratio gritted through his teeth.”Do not make me regret this.”

“I won’t! I promise, prommy, I prommy.”

Ratio glared at him but shook his head, and Aventurine swore he saw the corner of a smirk. Taking it as a win, he pumped his fist in the air and smiled wider when he heard Venus laugh. Ratio finished making Venus’ bottle and handed it to her, and she clutched it like she’d never eaten before. “Such vigor, mi ocelle,” Ratio murmured, trying to tile the bottle downwards, but Venus’ grip could challenge that of his. Aventurine watched the back-and-forth battle, but Venus eventually won. He bit back the ‘wow’  that sat heavy on his tongue.

Instead, Aventurine got up and walked toward the two. Ratio let him look, let him stare, and Aventurine deduced that he was probably proud of her as any parent should be. It was also then that Aventurine saw the two forming buds on her head. “Horns?” Aventurine wagered, and Ratio nodded.

“Her right one is damaged. It might not grow.”

Aventurine grew quiet, further closing the gap between him and Venus. Again, Ratio let him do so. He sucked in a breath, watching with wide eyes as Venus ate from the bottle. “What. A. Cutie,” he drawled, causing Venus to stir and open her eyes. Aventurine gasped and backed up a little, enamored. “Her eyes…” he whispered, “oh, her eyes…”

“They’re quite the sight,” Ratio hummed, and he looked down to view her as well. She slightly sneered at the attention and decided she was done with her milk. “That’s it? More, mi ocelle,” Ratio told her, grabbing hold of the bottle, but she made up her mind.

“Mi ocelle,” Aventurine echoed like a broken record. “That’s—um—’my eyes,’ isn’t it?”

“Little eyes, but yes. My little eyes.”

Aventurine snorted, which broke the tender atmosphere of the kitchen. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, shaking his head, “it’s not funny. Just… this is so sweet. You met this little girl for, what, one day? And you’ve… He trailed off, the words failing to reach his brain.

“I suppose it’s… unlikely, for a man such as I to be this, admittedly, soft. But it seems as though this sudden shift in my life has kindled something for me.” Ratio caressed Venus on the top of her head adoringly. “My mother taught me how to love,” he said sotto voce. It was the quietest Aventurine had ever heard from him. “She told me it comes in different shapes and sizes just like water.” Ratio closed his eyes and roamed Venus’ back gently, feeling her spin, her ribs. “She told me my love was like an ocean. I never quite understood it, she made me figure it out on my own. She never told me what she meant, but…” He looked down at Venus, and Aventurine—he might sob. “But I get it. I get it. Let my waves wash over you, mi ocelle.”

Aventurine tried making sense of it. Ratio’s main objective was to teach the less fortunate, let the truth reveal its path, paint planets with reason and thought. He loved learning, loved education, loved people. He loved them so much—it was like a sea, so grand, so beautiful, but too much. People drowned in his presence. Aventurine bit his cheek and stared at Ratio and Venus. That baby, Aventurine thought, would float along Ratio’s love, would be carried along his waves for as long as he lived. 

He didn’t realize he started crying until he felt something wet hit his hand. Ratio looked over and his expression is—is something. Aventurine can’t quite make it out. He looked tired, and sad, but he’s got a light in his eyes that screamed love.

“I’ll get you the best agency,” Aventurine tells him. “I swear, I swear.”

Ratio smiled at him, and he thought he was dreaming. “I know you will.”

He left the two to repose for the night. He waved goodbye to Venus, and began his journey to his penthouse—he needed his rest for the next day. He had a gut feeling that the data search wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, and he’d need to find different sources.

He entered his room and removed his garments quickly, wanting tomorrow to come already. It was the least he could do for that baby, and Ratio, too, for showing Aventurine a side he never thought was even achievable to see. After feeding his three little cat cakes, he fell asleep faster than usual, and with no nightmares. It was blissful.

Aventurine: I hope I can trust you two with this duty, Mister and Miss Stellarons

Caelus: huh

Stelle: huh

Aventurine: You two answer quickly

Caelus: we’re so bored

Stelle: yeah march is asleep and dan heng is being sooo boring

Caelus: and himeko and welt are doing something. we need action!!

Aventurine: Well, here’s some action

Aventurine: There is info on Herta’s Space Station about a particular solar system that our dear Doctor needs. There’s not much about it, see, and he’s quite busy at the moment.

Caelus: solar system?

Aventurine: Yes, a planet to be specific. In the Catalyst System, before Orion-24b, between Antlia-72b and 89-39c.

Stelle: got it.

Stelle: why won’t ratio ask us himself?

Aventurine: Like I said, busy

Aventurine: Oh, and do me a favor, won’t you? Don’t tell him I sent you. Let’s make it a surprise. Toodles!

“Information on the Catalyst Solar System? … Oh, the Catasyst. There’s not a lot. But some of our researchers along with the Intelligentsia Guild have explored there. In fact, the Mundanite doctor, Veritas Ratio, was the one that saved Orion-24b’s wildlife from a planet-wide disease.”

“Asta, sweetie, d’you have anything on this one planet…?” Stelle asked, tilting her head.

“Yeah, one between… uh… Antlia-70… something and 89-39c?”

Asta blinked at the twins and hummed. “Ah, well, the Department of Ecology would be a good place to start. The researchers have ties with Dr. Ratio’s fellow reporter on Orion, Parisa.”

The twins gave her matching peace signs and left in a hurry. She watched them go the wrong way but bit back a remark and turned around with a sigh.

The space station, as large as it was, really only had one zone where most activity went down: the Base Zone. Caelus and Stelle spread out, gathering what little info they could from various people.

“Parisa? Eh… yeah, yeah, I got somethin’ on her. I wasn’t here when the study went down so I’m not much help.”

“Orion-24b? There’s a document on it over here. … The Catasyst as a whole? Uh… sure, I got the map.”

“There is no planet there! Listen, the one who charted the planets, Dr. Qadir, only found these five. … Whatever, here. A memo on Parisa and Dr. Ratio’s discoveries.”

“I mean, anything could happen in the universe, y’know? An Aeon probably made a planet ‘cause THEY were bored, or something. It happens. Hey, here’s the copy of Dr. Qadir’s research papers.”

With newfound perspectives, Caelus and Stelle found a secluded spot to go over the numerous papers and studies.

Vaguely, it went like this:

The Catalyst Solar System (AKA Catasyst) was made like any other. There was a nebula, there was gravity, there was pressure, and there was matter. Nobody was around to document this part, but the twins knew their stuff. Eventually, one of the planets, Orion-24b, was discovered by a man named, well, Orion, and the others were discovered soon after. Some Qadir of the Intelligentsia Guild, specifically the Astral Ecology School, explored the solar system in depth before he got a phD in medicine. He charted five planets and named the system in memory of his late mother who helped him in his life’s journey.

Then, a disease spread across Orion and an ecologist at the time, Parisa, had helped wear it off alongside a scholar Dr. Ratio.

It all checked out until Stelle realized there was no news on the planet after Antlia-72b. It just skipped straight to 89-39c. There was no mention of anything at all, which made her suspicious of Aventurine’s true reasons for sending them here. Did Ratio even need this? Why were they not to tell him about it if he needed it? Caelus and Stelle looked at each other in frustration and opted for a break from reading and connecting invisible dots.

Caelus led the two of them to Herta’s Office to see if she had any tips or clues as to what they were missing, but what they weren’t expecting was for Screwllum to be there, reading through codices. When the door closed, Herta looked over and sighed in relief.

“Finally,” she groaned, immediately walking towards the visitors, “someone is here to save me.” She gestured her thumb at Screwllum and shivered, “He’s been going on and on about Aeons, especially Yaoshi. I don’t really care what he does, but he won’t even tell me what he’s looking for! Screwllum! Not telling me anything! Can you two believe it?”

“I apologize, Herta,” Screwllum said from his place next to the Simulated Universe’s entrance. He had a tablet in his  hands and put it away for the time being, then headed toward the doll and twins. “Someone has requested that I find something on the destructive Aeons, with Yaoshi being a main priority. They have asked to keep it a secret, and I will make very few exceptions.”

“I should be an exception!” Herta wailed.

Caelus sighed dramatically, but Stelle propped an arm over the other and placed her finger on her chin, then looked at Screwllum carefully in thought. “We’re also on a mission,” she said slowly. “It was given to us by a member of the IPC but it’s technically for Dr. Ratio.” At the doctor’s name, Screwllum’s eyes lit up a little. Stelle didn’t have much time to wonder what it meant before Caelus leaned in and asked if she could reveal that much. She shrugged and told him it was probably fine. After all, Aventurine only told them not to say anything to Ratio, he never mentioned anyone else.

“And, pray tell, what would this mission consist of?” Screwllum asked with a tilt of his head. He said it with much more curiosity than directness than he meant to, but he doubled down and leaned in a little, showing how his eyes lit up.

Caelus looked at his twin for a moment before they both spoke after each other, finishing each other’s sentences without missing a beat. “We’re finding information on the Catalyst Solar System,” said Caelus. “Specifically about this one planet, but there’s nothing on it. It’s like it’s never existed before in the first place, but apparently, it is there.”

Herta put her hands on her hips and looked back and forth between the two. “It’s always creepy whenever you guys do that.”

“How… interesting,” Screwllum remarked. “Would you mind informing me what you have gathered so far? I must see if it… aligns with what my client has asked of me.”

The twins shared a glance, but humored Screwllum’s request. The Intellitron’s eyes lit up at Ratio, and this time, Caelus noticed as well. It seemed as though Herta did too, given her sudden groan and look-away from the conversation. Though, that could have just been at the mention of the doctor. When Caelus brought up  how one reporter suggested an Aeon made the planet, Screwllum held a hand up, and the words dwindled to a halt.

“Aeons have the capability to do just about anything given THEIR extreme power,” he began, eyes dimming as though he was closing them. “The idea of one creating a planet from scratch and hiding it from humanity’s sight is very much possible.”

Herta caught on quicker than the twins and snapped her fingers. “So, say, an Aeon were to hide something very important, the best way would be to put it on said planet?”

“Precisely.”

The twins were at a loss for words. What did this have to do with Ratio?!

Screwllum then looked at them both and nodded firmly. “I think we have the same motive, my Stellaron friends. Hypothesis: Mr. Ratio has found something on this hidden planet, and he wants our help figuring out what exactly has happened to it.”

Herta laughed when both twins’ expressions twisted to revelation. She suddenly jabbed her index finger in Screwllum’s chest and angrily told him, “You couldn’t have told me such easily solvable data earlier?”

Screwllum put both hands up and chuckled. “Now, it seems as though we must work together to find out if our intuition is correct. Wouldn’t you say so?”

Herta scowled but removed her finger from the Intellitron. “I’ll get all the info we have on the destructive Aeons,” she said with a melodramatic sigh. She turned to the twins and kept her voice low yet intentionally loud enough so that Screwllum could hear her. “I would have told that narcissistic Dr. Ratio to get over here and do this himself, but I would rather lose my rank of Genius Society member #83 than let him on this station for more than two minutes.”

Screwllum hummed as he scrolled through his previous tablet. “No, you wouldn’t, Ms. Herta.”

“No! I wouldn’t! Urgh!” She stomped off, leaving the twins to giggle amongst themselves.

And so, research began. Screwllum would let Ratio know any lead he found, but the real question never came up:

What exactly did Ratio find on that mysterious planet?

Chapter Text

The breeze gently ran its fingers through the windchimes placed above the garden’s entrance. It was a warm, sunny day; the grass tickled the body that laid on it, and the clouds leisurely strolled on the sea of blue up high. It smelled fruity, of apples and lemons, yet none of the pine trees produced such things. Butterflies flapped their wings and softly landed on blue roses.

Ratio fluttered his eyes open.

Someone was there, next to him, looking down at him. He sat up from the ground, brushed his arms off, then stood up carefully, never once breaking eye contact with the mysterious person.

“I recognize you,” he said eventually, noting the large antlers and green eyes. It was a woman—dark skin, black hair that was tipped in a rich green, chest bare and decorated with necklaces and beads, her white skirt draped down below her calves and was trimmed with even more beads. She bowed with her head, and that’s when Ratio saw the beads and flowers all over her antlers. She jingled, not only from the motion, but from the tender wind, as if it caressed her very body. Yet she did not respond, silent as a mouse.

“Is there something that you need from me?” Ratio inquired. He tried ignoring the green eyes that kept staring at him, like peridot circles, up and down, looking for something. He knew them to be Venus’, if only dimmer and more tired. The woman tilted her head, items rattling to and fro,  but it was a warm, sincere thing. Ratio felt oddly comforted by her presence despite it all. He furrowed his eyebrows and tried leaning in, tried to take in her features and work out which species she was. He has learned of many cultures, has learned numerous languages and customs, but he couldn’t rack his head for a good enough choice for the woman. He refrained from asking ‘who are you?’ since it would barely help in a situation like this.

In lieu of a response, the woman turned to the blue roses and held a pointed finger out. There, her bracelets tinkled in the wind. A green butterfly came and landed on her finger, and she brought it closer to her face. Once another breeze soared through, the choir of beads on her body began to sing.

“I thank you,” she finally said, and the butterfly flew off. Her voice wasn’t as Ratio thought it would be—it was airy, light, something paranormal-like. It was then that Ratio thought that perhaps this was a message from the dead. The idea seemed likely, but it made him hesitate to ask his next question.

“Are you Venus’ mother?”

She took a moment to look at him. He had a difficult time discerning what she was searching for, until he realized her arms were outstretched towards him, palms facing down, inviting him to hold them. With no reason not to, he slowly grabbed her hands, felt around her cold fingers and thumbs. He looked up to see her smiling at him, lines under her eyes folding a bit. “You may call me Cervin,” said she. “You have found my daughter. You have given her life. And for that, I must thank you.”

Ratio did not dare speak as Cervin tightened her grip. Here, her scars over her face and scratches over her antlers were clear as day. Cervin must have caught him staring and tilted her head to show her left antler. She released one hand from Ratio’s hold to point at a few. “A tamer took a knife and tried to chop it off here.” She went to another, “They forced my mother to cut here.” Another on the right antler, the biggest one, “My tamer kicked here. It only stays on my head because of my husband, he took the bigger hit.”

Ratio felt his free hand wander up to graze at the antlers. “Horrible,” he said, and Cervin nodded haven gotten the gist. “Vile,” he went on, “who did this?”

But Cervin loosened her grasp from Ratio and backed away. “I have to leave.”

“Cervin—”

“I will be back. You will get your answers soon. Though, I will say before I go: People came on our planet generations ago. They had odd transportation vehicles and spoke in foreign tongues as you are now. They talk of these things called Aeons, of our own savior with horns like ours. They call Her the incorrect name—’Yaoshi, Yaoshi,’ and not ‘Dama, Dama.’ But, I feel as if nothing in life has been very true to me.” She inhaled, exhaled, brought her hands over Ratio’s eyes. “I will be back,” she repeated.

Before Ratio could respond, he awoke to the sound of Venus crying. He layed in his bed for—he didn’t know. A minute. Five minutes. Ten. He played the dream—the vision—the conversation in his head over and over, until eventually there was a thud that snapped him out of it. “Mi ocelle—” he blurted out, eyes wide and voice louder than he meant it to be. Venus wailed at his reaction, and he picked her up in his arms, shushing her. She hiccuped, looked up at him with drool and snot, and he took her to the bathroom to get her cleaned up. She whined but complied, and when he was done, he held her up in the air and smiled at her. “There you are, mi ocelle.”

“Awa,” she replied. He nodded firmly.

“Yes, I must find out what has happened to your home, Venus. But I should not leave so soon whilst my ship gets fixed and you are getting used to everything, hm?” He got an ‘Awo-wo…’ in return. “Then, while Aventurine is finding an agency and various data… Screwllum shall have to do. And knowing him, he’ll get help from…” he grimaced, which humored Venus enough to make her laugh. He cleared his throat and forced out a, “Herta…” in much more expressive anger than he’d usually give. At that, Venus forgot her tears and waved her hands at him, wanting to grab hold of his funny face.

He checked the time: 7:04 a.m., and began the day. He exhaled as he placed Venus in his arms and went to his kitchen to start up the stove and boil some water. As Venus played with a rubber duckie on the ground, Ratio dialed Screwllum. “I need you to search for details on which Aeons have a history of creating planets, namely hidden ones,” Ratio had ordered Screwllum as he overlooked Venus trying to rip the duckie’s head off. Screwllum didn’t ask nearly as much as Ratio thought he would. They ended the conversation shortly, and Ratio capped off Venus’ bottle. He knew he’d have to tell Screwllum, and, realistically, everybody one day. Being such a grand figure in the cosmos was not particularly a place for peace, and Venus would have to be revealed to more eyes. He knew it to be consequential—after all, curiosity was in anyone’s nature, biological or not.

It was then that Aventurine texted him, telling him about all the ‘cute things and necessities I got for Venus!’ Ratio left him on read once he mentioned ‘matching duck onesies.’ To make matters worse, Venus suddenly started to cry again, drool dripping down her chin. Ratio sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Stelle was doodling on a scratch sheet of paper Screwllum had offered while Caelus leaned back in a chair so far it was incredible that his head hadn’t whammed the floor yet. Herta’s Office was quiet, the humming of the station being the only noteworthy noise. The codices throughout the room viewed the four beings silently.

Until eventually, Caelus made an excited noise and finally fell on the ground. Herta winced at the crash and Screwllum shot his head up in worry, while Stelle cheerfully drew kitty cats and puppy dogs all over her paper. With his lower half leaning against the fallen chair and torso lying comfortably on the floor, Caelus brought a finger up and asked, “Hey, why don’t we go over to the planet ourselves? We’ll probably find better things there than here, right?” 

Screwllum shook his head. “That would have been my first action had Mr. Ratio not mention the eerie emptiness of the planet. Even the wildlife was sparse, as he said. It is possible that something dangerous, perhaps toxic, could be waiting,” he explained. Caelus’ wide grin faltered, and he hummed in thought.

Stelle grumbled and drew a cat, scared and jumping away from something. “What if it’s a Stellaron? Then we for sure need to go. And… and wouldn’t it be better if we knew what exactly Ratio found on this planet? I mean, it feels like we’re looking for a haystack in a… no, other way ‘round—a needle in a haystack.”

“Mr. Ratio never told me what he found, Ms. Stelle. He said it was important, but it did not explain what happened on the planet. And to answer your first question, given Mr. Ratio’s description of the situation, I would assume the Stellaron must have spread to Orion by now. “

“And before you two say anything,” Herta chimed in, “the disease on Orion is not caused by the Stellaron. It was simply from an outside virus due to Orion having been isolated for so long.”

Caelus harrumphed from the floor and crossed his arms. “Well, whatever it is, we can fight. If this something is hurting everything and everyone, then Stelle and I can give it a good beatdown.” Stelle looked up from her paper to give him a hearty thumbs up.

“Your enthusiasm is not unwelcome, Mr. Caelus; however, we must approach this carefully. We must investigate further, that much is certain, but the fashion in which we do so is extremely important. Proposition: we ask Mr. Ratio what he found, and if it helps us enough, we shall visit the planet ourselves. We must be prepared for disincentive for us to stay here and find alternative answers.”

Caelus cheered and turned to Stelle, expecting her to have the same reaction, but she was frowning at him. “What’s wrong?” Caelus pouted.

“Well… Aventurine told us not to say anything to Ratio, you know, about us helping him.”

“That was probably a bluff.”

“This is Aventurine. His bluffs aren’t that weak. What if we ask Ratio about what he found and, I don’t know, he explodes?!”

“Explodes…” Herta murmured from her corner.

“Explodes?” Caelus tilted his head.

“Explodes!” Stelle threw her arms out, mimicking said explosion.

“Rest assured, Ms. Stelle, he will inform us if he would ‘explode’ or not…” Screwllum sighed.

The twins glanced at each other for a brief moment before turning to Screwllum and nodding in sync. The Intellitron took out his phone and dialed Ratio, noting the time of 10:17 a.m. The first, time it went to voicemail. The second time, it went to voicemail and the twins started to lose hope. The third time, Ratio picked up and Screwllum watched as the twins quietly clapped. “Mr. Ratio,” Screwllum greeted, “I apologize if we are currently taking your time away from something.”

“I already have an idea as to what you’re calling for—”

“See?! He won’t explode!” Caelus exclaimed, and Stelle decided right then and there to jump him.

Ignoring the clamor, Ratio continued. “I understand that I have been a difficult communicator.” He paused, and that was when Screwllum could pick up some odd noise in the background, but Ratio is quick to speak.  “But I will have you know, this is for a good reason. I would not hide something like this for my own humor.”

“That is good news, Mr. Ratio. I have been getting help from our dear Stellaron twins since they were here for something similar, if that does not seem like an issue to you. We have concluded that this mission you have given me is quite… tricky, given the lack of specific information. Knowing what you have may help us immensely.”

“I suppose those twins have their uses.” Before Caelus could scoff and Stelle could yell out something profane, Ratio sighed, the noise filling out the office. Herta groans, not realizing her drama copied that of Ratio’s. “This was quite inconvenient, I must say. I will make it up to you. Without further ado—...” There was some shuffling on the other end. The twins got up from their short brawl and went next to Screwllum as Ratio began to reveal his secret. “Venus. Do not make a scene,” he said firmly to something before the phone shuffled again and Screwllum heard the noise once more. “I have, it seems, acquired a baby.”

“A baby?!” Stelle exclaimed.

“You gave bir—agh!” Caelus wailed in terror when Herta joined Stelle in jumping him again.

Ratio groaned and cleared the situation up. He mentioned the note, the sights of at least two towns, and how Aventurine was helping him find an adoption agency.  At the onslaught of information, Herta’s Office went quiet. The twins mouthed to each other their shock, and Herta for once didn’t look too angry at Ratio. Screwllum made a beeping noise much like clearing his throat, then said, “I must say… this was most unexpected. But… it does make sense.”

“I do have a very important thing to tell you, though. I have a reason for you to look for Yaoshi specifically of all Aeons.”

“Pray tell, Mr. Ratio.”

“I had a… some sort of trance in my sleep, of which I spoke with Venus’ mother. Is this concrete? No. But there is no apparent reason as to how I dreamt of something so clear, and so specific. She gave me her thanks, and told me briefly of newcomers landing on her planet generations ago who spoke about Yaoshi. They… sounded quite violent. Venus’ mother had horns—she called them horns, but, truly, they looked like antlers. She showed me many scars and scratches on them, which I believe came from these newcomers. She called them tamers.”

“You are certain?” Screwllum asked, but he knew it was pointless, especially given Ratio’s snarky, “Do you know who you are talking to?” Screwllum looked over at Herta, who pulled a sneer. Again, her attitude was equal to the very man she was judging. Screwllum hummed and calmly said over the phone, “Your information is very advantageous. If we go to this place and speak with the ones who inhabit it, we must be prepared for anything. Mr. Ratio, you don’t suppose that these newcomers, or, tamers, have anything to do with why you have only just now seen the planet? Or as to why life there is so sparse?”

“I’d consider it an unmediated association, yes. Like I said, they are quite violent, I would not be surprised if they have angered Yaoshi or used unnecessary amounts of power.”

Screwllum, despite his lack of facial features, looked as though he was frowning. Perhaps it was the dimness of his eyes, or how low his head hung after Ratio finished speaking. He inhaled, or it looked like it anyway, what with the rise of his chest. “The pieces are, slowly, coming together. I… will take initiative and take the Trailblazers to truly figure out what is happening. We will inform you once we are finished.”

“There are others—” Ratio spoke quickly. He then cleared his throat and restarted. “There should be others from Orion. An acquaintance of mine sent her sister there as well. She has not messaged me yet, so… Please, take care.”

“We will make sure to be safe, Mr. Ratio. I wish to meet the little one soon. I bid you adieu.”

“And I you, Mr. Screwllum,” Ratio replied in, possibly, the most sincere way Screwllum had ever heard from him. “Do not let the twins overwhelm anyone with those bats of theirs.”

Stelle, in a daze, didn’t process the request before she saw Caelus bellowing in offense. Screwllum held a hand up on the boy’s chest so that he couldn’t take the phone, then hung up. Herta rolled her eyes and flicked Caelus’ neck, and he snapped out of it. Sheepishly, he went over to where Stelle was previously drawing and picked up the paper, then slowly moved the pencil around to draw… Herta squinted. It looked like a sad rendition of himself.

The office soon went back to its past silence as Screwllum called an advisor about Planet Screwllum, and Caelus mopingly went over to Herta to help get books on Yaoshi. Stelle, for one, could not wait for what they’d see and, hopefully, fight.

Dr. Ratio: She is not an animal.

Caleb K: Ok… wait then how do you know she’s a girl?

Raine: Maybe it’s like moons. Or flowers. Those are feminine.

Isabela: ???

Dr. Ratio: This is ridiculous.

Dr. Ratio: No, she is a five month old baby. I have named her Venus.

Caleb K: WHAT?

May S: You got a baby during your travels????

Raine: We never even realized you were pregnant!

Isabela: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT [Sticker_Dr_Ratio_Cracked_Head]

Charlie N: Dr. Ratio… could you please bring peace back into the gc…

Dr. Ratio: Gladly.

Needless to say, his Teacher’s Assistants were taking the news… poorly.

It was currently 7 p.m., and he had finally gotten Venus to sleep. He knew she would wake up in the night, so he went to take a quicker bath than usual. While he waited for the tub to fill, he decided to text his TAs about the situation since it would affect their daily life almost as much as his own. Of course, each and every one of the TAs were extremely capable, but really, only a few knew what formality was.

The tolls of having a daughter must have caught up to him. By this time of night, he’d usually begin winding down with a good book, but now… he just needed to sleep for a few years. The good news was, he scheduled appointments for Venus’ shots and her synesthesia beacon. But he couldn’t keep himself from overthinking it—the idea of legally being Venus’ father was… nerve wracking. And of course, the idea of her real father being alive and wanting her back was valid, but something he wanted to selfishly avoid.

The water filled to his preferred height, and he added his routine of bubbles and salt (this time lavender, because he needed to rest before the inevitable wails at 2 a.m.). His phone buzzed, and he thought for a second it was Raine asking who the mother was as if Ratio hadn’t made it abundantly clear that he liked men, but when he looked it was May asking if she could see a picture of Venus. He huffed but one anyway. Venus was nothing to be ashamed of, after all.

He got into the bathtub and silenced his phone. He would have brought a book with him, but… He lowered himself and let the water reach his chin. “I must think through this logically,” he said aloud. “I will call the agency Aventurine finds for me. If her parents are found, then…” He trailed off, grumbling faintly. “I cannot be selfish. I cannot. Those are her rightful parents. I may love her, but that means I must know what is best for her.” It was then that he heard a splash from behind him. He jerked, then turned to find the source. It was an apple. He humored himself and dried it with one of his towels, then took a bite out of it. It was sweeter than usual.

No matter what would happen in the next few days, he thought to himself as he sat up straighter, he’d make sure he cherished the little moments.

Chapter Text

Ratio cried for the first time in… well… it’s been a while.

Being a parent was much higher maintenance than he had anticipated. Of course, he’s dealt with children, he’s heard it from all the mothers and fathers in the Guild, he’s been in a daycare before. He knew how difficult it can be. And yet, it was all so frazzling. Ratio found himself much more prone to becoming overstimulated—he wanted to put his plaster head on and take an honest to Aeons normal bath for goodness' sake. But he couldn’t, and it was tiring.

It reached a point; Ratio didn’t even realize he was so close to crying until Venus began to sob in her little crib. At the sound of her, knowing it was from her jaw’s irritation, Ratio inhaled sharply, put his hands on his face, and let the tears fall. He hadn’t cried like this in, as aforementioned, a while—he was most likely a preteen, and it had something to do with his mother, as most of his past did. The context was blurry, but all he remembered was hugging her, her smooth voice soothing him through it. On the more positive hand, he had cried relatively recently. It had to be the news of Aventurine’s health becoming better after the affairs that occurred in Penacony. But the times overall in which he cried like this could be counted on only one hand.

He felt the drops of emotion wet his palms. His breathing was shaky, and every other inhale felt like he couldn’t get enough oxygen. In the darkness of the room, he allowed himself release, yet the nagging feeling of remorse tugged at his heart. He was ignoring Venus, was he not? Letting her go on with the pain that she couldn’t help herself with—he was doing nothing. Ratio breathed through his teeth and balled his hands into fists. “Get up; get up, Veritas,” he muttered to himself wobbly.

Eventually, he went to pick Venus up and put pressure on her jaw with a towel from his nightstand for this exact circumstance. He felt weaker than usual and went to sit on the floor next to her crib. Venus quieted, looked up at Ratio with much interest, babbling at him despite her pain. Ratio wiped her drool off her chin and neck, sighed heavily. It took a moment, but she finally stopped her weeping and leaned inwards, then put her tiny head against Ratio’s hands. “Mama,” she said softly. Ratio bit his lip—she didn’t mean it, it was just a noise she made in the spur of the moment, she couldn’t have known what it meant. Yet he furrowed his eyebrows and held her close to his chest in a fit of—whatever it was everybody around him called it, cuteness aggression—and made a noise akin to a whine.

At his reaction, Venus squeaked and shuffled in his grasp. She turned her head up to look at him and he—he kissed her on the forehead and cheeks and nose and chest. “I’m not your mother,” he said while running his fingers through her hair. “I’m not your mother.” And yet he pressed the tip of his nose against her head and breathed recklessly. Upon realizing where the tears were coming from, Venus tried grabbing at Ratio’s eyes and cheeks, trying to catch the tears as they fell. Ratio shut his eyes and let her touch him, he didn’t have enough energy to stop her. At the feeling of her tiny hands, he broke more, and he secretly wondered how people would react if they saw him like this.

He stayed on the floor like that for a while, every now and then kissing Venus. His thoughts had finally cleared after a moment of peace, and he rocked Venus back to sleep. She did so with mild refusal. The room quickly enveloped in silence, and Ratio suddenly felt like he was back in university studying for his second phD: lonely, reticent, with no one to listen or to look. It had to have been fall, bleeding into winter, when his mother had passed and he fell into a fit of depression. The only thing he had to remember her in the dorms was the plaster head he had shaped in her image, of which he frequently wore whenever he needed to pull himself away from the outside world. Putting that head on was a place of solace, of peace. He used it almost everyday back then.

Of course he had cried then. It was brief, a wave of anger that crashed against his head for only a few minutes. There laid a flood in his mind for weeks, perhaps months, afterwards. He busied himself with studying, reading, working, and more, more, more studying. That second gold leaf felt like a hundred pounds on his head. Eventually, he learned that baths helped immensely, and every leaf after that was light. People had asked about his mother, wondered if he enabled his personality, if she knew how antisocial he could be, but he paid it no mind. It was a part of life; she would have wanted him to continue with a smile whenever he thought of her, not tears.

… Tonight, he raises himself up on his own two feet and wipes his face clean with the back of his hand. He would not fall into depression as he did then—he needed to be strong, for Venus, for his mother, for himself. He got over her death. He got over Nous. He could find power in parenthood, be it permanent or otherwise. He traveled wearily to his bed and collapsed. He needed his rest, didn’t he? So he closed his eyes and brought his blanket over his shoulders, then wiled himself to sleep.

Cervin was  on the porch when Ratio opened his eyes. The sun was setting, washing the garden over with a warm bath of oranges and pinks. The blue roses looked purple as the butterflies landed on them for their sweet nectar. The wind blew through the chimes, through Cervin’s hollow beads. Ratio went up to her but stopped just before the two steps leading up onto the porch. She was to the side, leaning on the railing, waiting patiently for him to join her.

“Why do you hesitate?” Cervin prodded gently. “You seem uneasy.”

Ratio inhaled, ready to speak, but promptly closed his mouth. He took a step away from the porch and looked away. Cervin couldn’t understand him anyway, so he cleared his throat and decided to continue.. “I fear I won’t… be able to be Venus’ parent. Your husband—he might be looking for her. And I—I’m so busy, and I frequently leave my home for Intelligentsia Guild matters. If… if I do not want this to become a public situation, then…” He trailed off, crossed his arms, let the sun’s rays shine on his face.

“I may not know your words, Veritas,” Cervin eventually said, bringing his eyes back onto her. He didn’t question how she knew his name. “But I know the feelings. You are worried for her.”

Ratio couldn’t hide it. He nods. “Yes. I am.”

“Any parent would be. There is a first time for everything, after all.” When Ratio didn’t respond, Cervin held  her finger out and yet another green butterfly landed on her. “I did not name her when she was born. She was nameless, an oddity. To have no name means to have no life, in my culture. And yet, you have named her Venus, no? You have given her life.” She brought the butterfly closer to Ratio. “You have loved her, ever since meeting her you have loved her. You have shown her people, places, ideas. You have cared for her, cleaned her, and made time for her. Veritas—” Cervin made a flicking motion with her finger and the butterfly flapped away past Ratio’s ear. “You are a wonderful father.” She smiled, and said her next words like it was a secret. “Do not take it from just me; Venus already thinks all this. Fret not, Veritas. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

Ratio’s mind swirled. It was loud, like cicadas in the summer, filling his head with noise. He opened his mouth, closed it, repeated the motion two more times, then tried to take out his plaster head. When that didn’t work, because of course it didn’t in a strange, mystical dream, he settled on crossing his arms and turned towards the roses. Cervin had no reason to lie, Ratio knew this, but he had trouble believing it. He took a moment, dissecting her words very carefully before rubbing his temple. And then a flash of words and images appeared in his head and—

“Anaticula,” his mother would say in the dead of night, when he found her in the kitchen brewing a cup of tea. They’d have little conversations when they found each other like that, of past friends or future birthdays, small things. One night, his mother recalled taking care of him as a baby. “You crawled everywhere,” she laughed serenely, “and you grabbed almost everything. You loved the things that could hurt you the most. Like water—you’d splash all about during bath time and rub soap all over your face. Then I got you a rubber duck to distract you and that’s where I got the nickname…

“But Veritas, it was so much fun with you. It was so… much, at times… but I raised such a smart young man, don’t act like you don’t know it. Promise me, when—or, if—you have children, you’ll cherish it, cherish them. You’ll have fun? I know you’d be a great father, or a great caretaker. Even if they’re just birds, or hamsters, or lizards,” she giggled to herself as the teapot whistled, “you’d do wondrously.”

Ratio turned back to look at Cervin. To thank her. To tell her he’d take good care of her daughter. Of his daughter.

She wasn’t there.

The wind chimes sang.

He stepped up onto the porch and inhaled. Sweet. Apples. Honey. Like love in a jar. A butterfly flew onto the railing and he smiled.

“Knock-knock!” Aventurine called from outside Ratio’s door. It took a moment, but the door clicked open and he was allowed entry. He stepped in to be face-to-face with Ratio, and he brought his arms up to show his numerous bags. “Got stuff,” he said with a wink.

“I hope this also includes information, and you don’t expect to just win me over with items?” Ratio asked with a sleepy Venus in his arms.

“Little bit of both,” Aventurine admits sheepishly. “There’s boxes on the way, too. I thought they’d already be here, though…”

Ratio raised an eyebrow but led him to the kitchen like last time he visited. Aventurine placed the bags on the table and gestured gleefully towards them. “Haul!” He grinned. Ratio stared at him, at the bags, before snorting and sitting down to go through them with him.

“So! Before we get into this, I will indeed share what I found… It wasn’t a lot. Like, one log. Not great. The solar system this planet’s in, the Catalyst System? Yeah, the only records the IPC has on it includes Orion-24b and Orion-24b only. They mention an oddly large gap between Antlia-72b and 89-39c, and some maps include an asteroid or even a dwarf planet for whatever reason. Nobody’s really gone and mapped the place other than Dr. Qadir way back when. Really, it’s all just you and Miss Parisa.”

“Redundant information,” Ratio said with a wave of his hand. “I did not tell you, but I have sent Screwllum to Herta’s Space Station to research Aeons, specifically one of the disaster-bringing ones, Yaoshi, and see how THEY could have made a planet and made it invisible.”

“Ah…” Aventurine murmured. “Smart…”

“Apparently, the Trailblazers were on a similar research mission… You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, gambler…?”

“Well,” Aventurine smiled and took out a poker chip, “they were my resources. I didn’t want them to bother you, Doctor. I know how they are. Ever-curious.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Ratio said, nodding slowly. On his shoulder, Venus copied the movement albeit even slower. “However, it was to no avail. Screwllum and the two are currently planning to leave for the planet. They will message me about their findings soon enough.”

“Gives us enough time to go through all this then, doesn’t it? How lucky,” Aventurine purred. Ratio attempted to make a face of disgust but broke and laughed softly. Aventurine stared at him as if he had grown two more heads. Ratio… laughing… ‘Venus might be magic,’ he thought.

There were, to Aventurine’s credit, many helpful things Ratio might have been won over with. But most of the haul was Aventurine indulging in the fact that Ratio was the one taking care of a baby. He somehow found a bib that had the antiderivative power and quotient rules on it. Perhaps it was custom made. Ratio didn’t want to go into it—he just took it with a roll of his eyes. There were other odd calculus and trigonometry baby toys that Aventurine gave him with a grand smile, and he found it hard to believe that there was someone out there that made all of them. Not even Ratio, a man obsessed with all things math, would create such… unique items… but it was funny, and he did have a sense of humor, so he decided to keep most of them.

“Mallard duck teether,” Ratio commented whilst he pulled said teether out.

“It matches the onesies I got you both,” Aventurine chimed. Ratio groaned. “Oh please, Doc! It’s not like a full cosplay or anything—it’s just a pattern! And it’s not like anyone else will see you wear it.”

Ratio held the teether up to Venus and silently assessed something, then placed it down on the table and huffed. “I don’t think she’ll play with many of these, if I’m being honest.”

Aventurine tilted his head curiously. He took the teether from the table and stuffed it back in one of the bags. “Aw,” he pouted, “how come?”

“Since playing with her, she’s fancied more… unconventional objects. Like I did her age. Think things she’ll likely choke on rather than all of this. Still, I can try and introduce her to innocuous toys.”

“Think she’ll try and mess with your lab equipment?” Aventurine joked, but Ratio pulled a grimace and nodded. Aventurine made an ‘ooh…’ noise and sympathetically frowned. “Well… maybe she’ll like this? Maybe it’ll remind her of your little owl,” he said, reaching into one of the bags.

“My little—ah. Yes, she was infatuated with it for a while but it’s much too sharp for her,” Ratio responded, leaning in when Aventurine brought out the object. It was a soft, brown and white short-eared owl plush with bright yellow eyes, and it was around half the height of Venus. Ratio felt a smile tug on his lips and went to hold it in his unoccupied hand. “It does look like the owl.”

Aventurine watched as Ratio placed the owl among the objects he approved of, and he felt joy swell in his heart. He continued going through his haul. “That was it for toys,” he said, “I got some clothes too, but I’m not so sure how they’ll fit her. Ooh, there should be a crown here that matches your laurel leaves…”

The two men went through the bags for an hour or two. Ratio liked most of the clothes Aventurine bought and put them aside. It was then that Venus woke up and Ratio started to boil water for her milk. Aventurine relished in the feeling of domesticity in the home, but then he snapped his fingers and brought attention to himself. Ratio glanced over at him, and even Venus quit her screaming to figure out where the noise came from.

“I remembered something,” Aventurine announced, pointing at a puzzled Ratio. “The log I mentioned, about the planet. It was from a few months ago. The location came from the planet, or rather, around it, and the person who wrote it didn’t state their name. Apparently someone found the log randomly whilst going through signals but nothing else was found and the message itself was too cryptid to garner a search.

“It said… ‘This gas is really thick. I’m not sure how much longer this can go on. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.’ Along the lines of that. And then, the last thing they said was, ‘This might be for nothing’ and it ended there.”

Ratio made an expression that Aventurine knew to be deep thought. “How many months ago was this, specifically?”

“It had to be older than Venus,” Aventurine said, “probably a year ago or so, give or take?”

“Gambler. Finish Venus’ bottle. I need to… ponder on this.”

“You—wait, I—”

“Once the water is lukewarm, add six ounces of it to the bottle and three scoops of the formula—the scoop is in the bag, do not use it for anything else. Shake the bottle vigorously, I’m sure that much is obvious, and support her head while she eats. She eats quickly, so tilt the end of the bottle down. I’m positive you know the process.”

Aventurine couldn’t get another word out before Ratio handed him Venus, gestured towards the cooling pot of water, grabbed his plaster head out of his inventory, and left to go to his room. In a daze, Aventurine stared at Venus as she began to sob, not only from Ratio leaving her but also from the lack of food.

“Um—” he stammered, “uh, he’ll be back, darling! He’s weird like that, it’s fine. Shh, it’ll be okay… Ah, how does he do this with one hand, holy sh… sugar…” Aventurine cringed inwardly—he was not cut out for this. He had followed Ratio’s instructions wondering when the doctor would come back. He assumed the log finally made something click in Ratio’s head, but, really, he didn’t have to leave just like that…

He held Venus uncomfortably, and he felt like he was about to drop her whenever she shifted her head. She was looking at him, and he swore she was judging him. But when he made eye contact he grinned. “I wonder what happened to your parents, to your people,” Aventurine murmured to her. “I wonder…” He gritted his teeth and looked away. Crap, he was going to cry, wasn’t he? Why wasn’t there anyone like Ratio back then? Why couldn’t someone save him or his planet too? He frowned and tried not to blink. The emotions in his head were magma, threatening to overflow, but he couldn't figure out which one it would come out as.

Venus made a particularly loud noise and jerked in Aventurine’s arms, making him startle. “Wh—what… oh. You’re done.” He exhaled and began to smile at her once again.

“A-ma!” She cried out.

“Huh? Aw, you just ate, sweetie, and it was so much too! I need to burp you! Or… something.”

“Awa-wa-ga!” She fussed, trying to leave his grasp.

“Uh… sweetheart…? Ugh, where is that doctor when you need him… Venus, baby, what is it?” Maybe if he got really close, he could attain some sort of parental link and—

“Ga-a-a!” She slapped him in the face lightly, but she got the message across. He was not wanted anymore.

“Ah… I’m sorry, baby, I don’t want to disturb Ratio,” Aventurine told her. He needed to stop thinking lest he start the waterworks right then and there, so he grabbed the owl plushie from the table. He put the bottle down and sighed. “Here,” he said, placing Venus on his lap, “an owl. Cute, right? You’ve seen something like this before.”

Venus looked unimpressed but reached out anyway. “Mama.”

“Ma…” he blinked, “mama…?”

She tilted her body forwards at the owl. “Mama.”

“You think Ratio is your mama? Wait, aren’t you only five months old? Oh my Aeons, did Ratio give you some of his intelligence?” Aventurine tried joking but Venus ignored him and squeezed her hands over and over again, desperate for the owl. “All right, here you go, baby.” Aventurine put the plushie in her lap and she squealed with delight.

“Mama, mama,” Venus babbled.

It was then that Aventurine guessed that saying the word got a reaction out of Ratio, so maybe she connected a dot or two. She didn’t understand what it meant, sure, but she definitely knew it got her things. “Smarty pants,” he mumbled. She looked back at him and gave him an incredibly humorous yet rude scowl for a baby. He gasped dramatically. “Cranky pants, too! Did Ratio teach you that?”

“Did I teach her what?”

Aventurine jumped at the low voice and shot his head up. “Ah. Doctor,” he acknowledged with raised eyebrows. He inhaled and hid his sudden fright. “How good of you to join us after you bailed.”

“I apologize. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. I have a theory.”

“Walk me through it.”

Ratio went to sit next to him and Venys was transferred between arms. She jumped with joy once in her father’s arms and was given the owl to play with as a distraction whilst Ratio spoke.

“I figure it went something like this: An Aeon, most likely Yaoshi, created a planet and species for an unknown reason centuries ago. THEY made the planet invisible to protect the people, and THEY were worshipped as a god. Generations later, a group of people found them, though I am not sure if this was an accident or not. However, these people oppressed the natives. It was not until recently, before Venus was born, that toxic gas was released, which does explain there being barely any wildlife. Though, why exactly Venus was left outside remains a mystery to me.”

Venus played with the owl, lifted its wings and tapped its eyes, not aware of the sudden silence that draped over the kitchen.

“You thought up all that in twenty minutes?”

“I need to be patient for Screwllum to message me. After all—”

“Patience is a virtue?”

Ratio stared at Aventurine for a second, weighing the pros and cons of throwing something at him. Eventually he exhaled and said, “Do not interrupt me. As I was saying, Screwllum needs to message me. This is all necessary before going to an agency. I… need to know whether or not her rightful parents are still alive.”

“But…” Aventurine paused. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I feel like, if I had a child in this situation, I’d be grateful that you came along and saved them.”

“That is true. And—I think I would prefer her to be out here than on there. I’d—” Ratio inhaled sharply. “I need to figure out what is going on with this planet, Aventurine. I need to help those people, I need…” He rubbed in between his eyebrows and groaned. “They need help. They should not have to live in fear of—of—of toxic gas!”

“Ratio, hey, hey, you’re right, but take a breather—”

“No. No, I can’t be sitting here doing nothing. While those innocent people are dying, while others are gathering information, I—...” He stopped. He stared at Venus in his lap. He brought a hand up to his forehead and dragged it downwards. Then, he looked up at Aventurine and… he simply frowned. It was like he was searching for something deep within Aventurine, something hidden, something small.

“Kakavasha,” Ratio said quietly. Aventurine’s eyes widened and he felt his mouth drop slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Aventurine didn’t get to respond. Ratio kissed Venus on the cheek and sat her up on the table, of which she didn’t mind much, then went to hug Aventurine. It was a little awkward, with the both of them sitting down with an almost-too-big gap between them, but Aventurine couldn’t help but scrunch his face up and the next thing he knew, there were tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t be sorry, don’t be sorry,” Aventurine whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Ratio told him anyway. “This must be hard on you. I never realized the similarities.”

“Like—” Aventurine sniffled and wrapped his arms around Ratio tighter. “Like how a young child in danger with uniquely bright eyes had nobody to care for them? Like how there was nobody to help their family, their people?”

“Yes, Kakavasha. Yes, I am sorry for that. It might not mean much coming from me—”

“No. No, no.” It was a relief. It was wonderful. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of. “Thank you.”

Ratio didn’t let him go until Venus got angry and crawled over to the two of them. Once she started bawling her eyes out, Ratio put a firm hand on Aventurine’s shoulder, then went to take care of Venus. Aventurine’s shoulder tingled for a while afterwards. But it was nice. Aventurine smiled to himself, and laid on the table with his head on his arms. “Kakavasha,” he repeated in Ratio’s accent. He giggled and nodded off, still feeling warmth cover him like a heavy blanket. It was later when he realized Ratio had put one on him as he dozed away.

It was around 2 a.m. in the morning when Ratio’s phone buzzed. It was raining outside; the pitter-patter of water droplets were gentle, but it had been going on for hours. Aventurine had left a while ago for the casino, but had shut the door a bit too loudly, causing Venus to startle and wake. Ratio had finally gotten her back to sleep, and gave into rest as well, but of course, someone was trying to get his attention even in the dead of night. He groggily groaned and turned his phone off. But then it buzzed again. And again. And—

“This better not be Raine…” he muttered before blinking his bleary eyes. It was Screwllum and… Xinrui.

Screwllum: Mr. Ratio, greetings. I am on the planet currently, of which some people here call Riley-XIX, but the locals simply call it “Home” in their language. I have met your acquaintance, Xinrui.

Xinrui: Hey, Doc!

Xinrui: We’re near one of the bases and I’m getting ready to enter with my group. Those Trailblazer twins rushed in, but I think either their phone got taken away or there’s no service around, probably so outsiders can’t track them. Screwllum will take our phones and we’re going to act like we’re lost.

Screwllum: We have met a guard out here as well. He explained the situation to us and told us to keep ourselves out of trouble.

Xinrui: Yeah. So, apparently, the locals are called Fallinae. They’re kept as animals due to their lack of synesthesia beacons and their unique horns that look a lot like antlers. And they’re kept by the descendants of space pirates that were looking for a place to take a refuge who happened upon Riley. It’s really gross what they’ve been doing for so long, honestly.

Xinrui: But they do know about Yaoshi’s role in the planet’s creation. And the Fallinae worship THEM as “Dama.” The guard was so rude about it, though…

Screwllum: The guard mentioned toxic gas being released every few months to prevent Fallinae from escaping or leaving for too long. The only safe areas are these bases. So, it seems, if you had not found Venus, she might have died either from lack of care or… the gas.

Screwllum: I apologize for the sudden messages so early in the morning for you, so please, have a good rest, Mr. Ratio, and come back to me with a clearer mind in the morning so we can figure this out.

Xinrui: Sleep well! Rest assured, we’re getting this done!

Ratio felt like flinging his chalk at somebody. His intuition was correct—he didn’t want it to be. He wanted it to be wrong, wanted there to be no gas, no oppression, no unnecessary suffering or discrimination. He placed his phone down on his nightstand and sighed deeply. That was how the cosmos were, he reminded himself. Like Aventurine’s past, nothing was ever going to be done peacefully. There always had to be violence. He breathed through his nose and chuckled self-deprecatingly. He fell victim to the pattern before; he wasn’t in the right to think all this. And, of course, that was the reason why the IPC came to him. Violence was how people got things, how galaxies got power.

Now awake, Ratio got up, carefully and quietly, and headed to the kitchen. He needed tea. Peppermint tea, the kind his mother would make on weekends. (And a bath. That would do wonders.) He got the water out and started to heat it, then waited a moment after he put the tea bag into a mug. The rain began to pour outside, and he closed his eyes and relished in the tiny peace in his kitchen. He thought out his plan for the next few days, which included leaving Pier Point. He wondered if Venus was getting tired of all the moving yet.

In a few minutes, the water was hot enough and he poured it into his mug. It had a duckling wearing shades on it with the words, ‘#1 Teacher.’ It was a thank-you gift from one of his best students when he first started teaching, so it was chipped in a few places, but he tried to keep it in good condition. As the tea steeped, he brought it back into his room and sat on the edge of the bed. Venus babbled in her sleep. The rain came down harder than before. Ratio sipped his tea and exhaled. He had a busy schedule—and future—ahead with Venus.

Chapter Text

“Dr. Ratio…?”

“Make it quick.”

“Um… I know we have counselors on-site, but, um, I need someone I trust more…”

Ratio turned to look at the woman in his empty classroom’s doorway. She was wearing a loose hoodie, bleached hair tied back in a messy bun, pale skin even paler than usual. Ratio had never seen her without makeup before, but now, he could see all her blemishes and bags under her eyes.

“Ha-eun,” he greeted, putting his pencil down. He was currently grading essays, but he was getting increasingly worried about the state of his students’ reading comprehension. “Whatever is it that you need?” Ratio gestured for her to stand in front of his desk. He put the papers away, glad for an excuse to do so, and gave Ha-eun his undivided attention.

She pulled at the collar of her shirt and avoided eye contact with him. “I’m… um… extremely stressed? And—I know you, um, probably don’t want to hear all this while you’re getting work done, b-but…”

“Please, dear,” Ratio began and waved his right hand around a bit, “I care more about my students’ well-being than you think. You can tell me as much or as little as you’d like, and it will not leave this space.”

Ha-eun’s lip wobbled, and she rubbed her chest and silver necklace. “U-um. Well, I… My wife and I, we—she had her baby? And it’s wonderful—but I’m not cut out for this. And it’s been stressing me out, like, I can’t even focus anymore—” She cut herself off abruptly with a gasp for air. “—I’m really sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ratio told her, a tad bit aggressively. “Raising a baby is no easy feat, Ha-eun. I congratulate you and your wife. Let’s take this apart, though. How come you feel like  you are not cut out to be a parent?”

“I—... My mother, she has anger issues, and it runs in the family. She made my life so awful and I… I guess I’m just scared that it’ll ruin his life, too, the baby’s.”

Ratio put his chin on the back of his left hand and squinted at her for a second. “How well would you say your wife supports you, Ha-eun?”

She quit her rubbing to stare at Ratio blankly before making a small whining noise. “She, um, she’s a perfect partner for me. She uplifts me, and she’s patient with me, but—”

“And that’s it, Ha-eun. You do this together. You get through hardships together, you raise your son together. You communicate with each other, you’re honest with each other. This will not be easy. Nothing is. But so long as you do this together, you two will do fine. Ha-eun, you are an incredible student. And yes, I have noticed you slipping as of late, but I know you get things done. I have no doubt that you will be a great mother.”

Ha-eun started to sob. She rubbed her chest again, hard enough for Ratio to take her wrists and look her in the eyes. She hiccuped and her shoulders shook with every breath. Ratio opened his arms, and she leaned in. He let the hug go on for a while, as long as she needed.

It wasn’t until now, when Ratio was on the edge of his bed applying pressure to his temples while Venus cried for his attention, that he realized his advice, as useful as it had been for Ha-eun, did not particularly apply to him. Yet, he wished for similar words to be given to him. He wished his mother was with him. He wished Cervin wasn’t gone. He wished, and he wished, but nothing would help him.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his sheets. He prayed to the Aeons. He prayed to his gods, his goddesses, the woman he was named after. He wasn't religious, by any means, but he needed solace. Needed a break. Needed help.

“Give me strength,” he whispered to himself.

“He was nice,” Xinrui commented with a sarcastic lilt.

“Don’t piss me off.”

“Hey, hey! Junko! No bad words! C’mon, let’s get into character, all right? Alice, go over the details one more time, from the top.”

Screwllum watched Xinrui’s exploration crew bicker for a while longer before Alice, the medic, held up her hands and began speaking. “We’re a ragtag group of outcasts that have to hide from our home after refusing to follow the government’s orders. We aren’t here for long, just a place to stay while we find people to help our cause. Xinrui is our leader who wanted a revolution but got outnumbered. Paula is her right hand woman, I’m still the medic, Spade and Junko are just followers. We’ll act nice, and that includes you, Junko.”

Junko stuck her tongue out and flipped her off.

“Whatever. Anyway, we’ll act like we’re losers,” Alice said with a proud nod, her curly black hair bouncing with the motion. “Don’t let them think we’re smart. Spade, you’re a nerd, we need you to be dumb.” She pointed at Spade, who had a brown pixie cut and glasses.

“Huh?”

“Perfect.”

“Wait,” Paula said, holding up a hand, “you’re a medic. Aren’t you also, by definition, a nerd?”

“I only know the basics. Like that internal bleeding is nothing to be worried about. That’s where the blood’s supposed to be.”

“No, it—... oh. Yeah. Okay.”

Alice continued her spiel. Screwllum wondered if they all knew each other beforehand, or if Xinrui had gathered people at the last minute. The crew consisted of only five women: the leader and biologist, Xinrui; the botanist and medic, Alice; the geologist, Paula; the journalist and historian, Spade; the technician and photographer, Junko. Xinrui hadn’t gotten into the specifics when Screwllum and the Trailblazers first met them. She said why they were there, sure, and Screwllum remembered reading about her input for Orion’s disease, but she was as mysterious as Riley-XIX itself.

“We should get in there now while it’s still light out,” Xinrui said in a much more serious tone than before. She then turned to Screwllum and waved her hand. Screwllum glanced up and saw the women huddled around each other. “Yo, Screw-dude!” Screwllum tilted his head, amazed at her quick shifts in behavior. She pulled her light blue bangs out of her gray eyes and grinned. “Junko’s staying with you. We’d love for her to get some pics in, but they might confiscate her camera. Until we get back to you guys, maybe you could investigate out here.”

“That sounds like a plan, Ms. Peng. Though, we will need a way to communicate.”

Junko scoffed. “You think we go places and we’re not prepared? You’re a funny guy, you know?” Junko flashed her white teeth at Screwllum, then flipped him something tiny. He caught it with one hand and inspected it.

“A magnetic earpiece,” Screwllum noted. “Carefully crafted.”

“Hayashi brand,” Junko told him with her eyes closed and a wider smile than Screwllum had ever seen from her. She threw her earpieces to the other women, who all caught save for an unprepared Spade.

“Junko, don’t go scamming the king of a planet for your one-off device,” Paula groaned after she caught it. She tightened her wavy brown hair into a ponytail and rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Hah? You said this was, and I quote, ‘the most useful and important part of the mission’ literally two minutes ago!”

“Ladies, ladies! Paula, I like how you lie, save it for the base. Junko, keep doing what you’re doing.” Xinrui gave each of them a thumbs up, then put in her earpiece. Screwllum noted they each had different designs for each woman, and they complimented their hair colors and face shapes. He hummed to himself. So, they did know each other before this.

Xinrui gave Junko all of their phones and smiled as she threatened her with death if she broke any of them. She waved Screwllum and Junko goodbye and led the other three off to the base. As soon as they left, Junko took out her camera and went next to a tree to lean on it. She had burgundy, tomboyish side-tails and a particularly angry-looking resting face that fit her previous aloof behavior. Her chipped, dark green nails moved with sharpness as she shifted between focal lengths.

“Ms. Junko—”

“Can it, can-head. ‘M focusing.” When Screwllum fell quiet, she groaned through gritted teeth and put her camera on her lap. “Sorry. I guess. What do you want?”

“I would simply like to know how you met Xinrui. While we are alone, I think it’s best for us to get to know each other more.”

Junko stared at him for a split second before bringing her camera back up to her eyes. “Well, I’ve known Xinrui since I moved to Orion. My brother and I wanted a fresh start away from our parents, but that was when the disease broke out. I made some stuff and helped Xinrui out and, I don’t know, I guess we hit it off and became good friends. My brother died a while back so I started photography in memory of him and it’s been useful. So. Yeah.”

Screwllum nodded slowly. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“It’s all right. … What about you, huh? You’re some kinda ruler of a planet? What’re you doing out here instead of on your throne or whatever?"

“I am indeed the ruler of Planet Screwllum. I am here because of a friend—an associate, pardon—recently acquired a baby here. I am surprised Xinrui did not mention this to you.”

“Oh no, she did, I’m just testing you.”

“I make an effort not to tell lies, Ms. Junko. I have no reason to, regardless.”

Junko made a face Screwllum recognized as incredulity, but she continued before he could defend himself. “So, like, what’s with you and your associate-friend, then? Who is he?”

Screwllum made a rumbling noise akin to a deep chuckle. “Veritas Ratio is a man like no other. I am sure you have heard of him, given he helped Orion-24b alongside Xinrui. He does not like me very much, and he has a mutual distaste with the Genius Society. However, we collaborated on an extrapolation named the ‘Divergent Universe.’ Him coming to me specifically for help is unorthodox of his temperament, but I will not complain.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Junko said with a shrug. “Xinrui likes messing with him. Do you think he’s cut out for it? Being a father, I mean. He doesn’t sound like the most… parental… or caring guy ever.”

Screwllum crossed his arms and tilted his head. It was true. He had heard of the doctor’s character before their first meeting, it was impossible not to with his status. Sharp personality, blunt behavior, vitriolic eyes that glowed whenever someone breathed in his direction. The rumors seemed to understate him when they met on Herta’s Space Station, in fact, he was much more extreme than the rumors made him out to be. But that was what made him so intriguing, so compelling—he was such a mystery, and finding out what made him him was exciting to Screwllum.

Until recently, Screwllum had never quite figured Ratio out. He decided that, in a unique way, Ratio cared. The claim had barely any evidence, but Screwllum saw. He saw the way Ratio worked with assistants, the way he talked to certain students, the way he interacted with the Trailblazer twins. He cared. He had feelings, too, contrary to popular belief. Once, Screwllum spotted him holding his plaster head gently in his hands, fingers tracing lines and indents. Screwllum didn’t get to ask what was going on since the Trailblazers butted in, but it was a soft side he’s never seen from Ratio before.

“Answer: I think Mr. Ratio will go about it in his own way. I believe he will know what is best and what is not. After all, he never does anything subpar,” Screwllum told Junko, who seemed satisfied with his response.

The two of them continued their own things in silence. Junko took a picture of Screwllum interacting with one of the trees and gave it to him, pink as a schoolgirl confessing her crush. Screwllum laughed at that and took the picture gratefully. He went over a few plants he recognized, and she told him stories about Orion in return.

It was oddly peaceful for a moment, but Screwllum felt the abnormal isolation that Ratio described soon enough. He deduced the time to be around midday, the sun still high in the sky and the air clear and crisp, but it was all empty. Screwllum had yet to see a bird fly, or an herbivore scamper by. He put it in the back of his mind and went back to sharing tidbits with Junko.

The situation on Riley-XIX wasn’t pretty. But the people in charge were even less so.

Orion’s Exploration Crew (OEC, pronounced ‘Oh-eck,’ as Xinrui liked to say) was taken in by a new generation of space pirates who called themselves ‘Riley’s Partisans,’ They proudly spoke of Riley’s past antics and violently carried on his ideas of torturing the Fallinae. The few that didn’t agree never spoke up about it, and if they did, they’d be banned from the bases and left to die whenever the toxic gas was released.

Xinrui had tried placating the Partisans, but the men did not care to listen to her. The crew was led inside a small, dark, empty building and were left to their own devices for two hours. Xinrui had tried fighting back, tried breaking the door down, tried anything and everything, but they were trapped. They heard noises, groans, and whispers from the basement, and it smelled like something was rotten. Spade had tried to communicate with the voices, but whenever she did, they would stop for a few minutes before beginning again. Paula mumbled calming mantras to herself, and Alice prayed to the Aeons. After the second hour, the sound of wood splitting was heard, and Xinrui braced herself in front of her crew.

A scrawny man with an ax and green eyes entered and stared at them for a solid minute before gesturing for them to come back outside. He wore a gray beanie that mostly covered thin, dirty blonde hair, and a dark leather-trench coat that practically swallowed him whole. He was sweating as though he’d run a marathon, and he kept anxiously looking around as if something or someone was watching. “They were going to leave you in there,” he said feebly. “That or…” he trailed off. He fidgeted with his coat and didn’t bother looking back at the women. “You can’t be here. I know you four lied, I know there’s more of you here. And I want to help. I don’t want to live with this guilt.”

“Wait, wait,” Xinrui said, stopping him in his tracks. He finally looked back. His yellow, cat-like eyes scanned them up and down. Xinrui faltered but cleared her throat. “You want us to trust you? Just like that?”

“No,” he said, having the nerve to get mad, “but I can help, I swear. I can tell you things. Just, get me out of here. Take me to wherever you came from, please, I’m already going to die.”

Xinrui glanced at her crew. Paula looked like she was going to throw up. Alice looked mildly concerned. Spade looked antsy. So, Xinrui nodded and let the man follow them out the base. Nobody batted an eye at them. Xinrui realized she never saw a single Fallinae.

…

“You’re the direct descendant of Riley? His son’s son’s…” Spade mumbled incoherently, scribbling something down in her journal. “Talk, Ronan.”

Ronan huffed and wheezed as he followed the women up a hill. “You—I—I’ll pass out—”

“I’d carry you, but I don’t trust you,” Alice told him. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and began speaking to seemingly nobody. Ronan, dizzy and teary-eyed, couldn’t discern what she was doing, but they all had stopped for him to catch his breath. In a few minutes, he heard two other bodies approach them and suddenly stood up. His head pounded and roared, but he stood on guard.

“Relax,” Xinrui said, “they’re friends.” Ronan looked to where the sounds were coming from and saw them: a robot and woman. His shoulders relaxed and he said hello whilst he panted. 

Screwllum greeted Ronan for both himself and Junko. He stared at Ronan before tilting his head. “Question: Is he all right?”

Alice shrugged. “He’s fine.”

“You’re a horrible medic,” Ronan coughed out.

“I could kill you with a pebble,” Junko gritted out. Xinrui laughed a little too hard at such a comment. Ronan wondered if his saviors were truly all right in the head.

“Shut up,” Spade spat, making Junko roll her eyes. “Ronan, tell us your story already.”

Ronan sighed but let the group gather around him. He rolled up his sleeves and recalled his past. “I had a Fallinae friend back when I was eight. She was kind, despite how everyone treated her. But, when she turned ten, a tamer bought her. She was taken to the other base and I never saw her since.

“My family—my father—wanted me to become a tamer, too. I couldn’t. I was weak. I am weak. But owning a Fallinae here is like owning clothes. Without any, I was seen as weird—but those are people… I can’t say anything, I can’t gather people to do anything, but… I want to try to leave. To tell someone else out there about what’s been happening for years.”

Screwllum stepped up while crossing his arms. “How come nothing has been done about it?”

“The gas,” Ronan answered, and that was enough. “And, on that, I… live with this guilt. It was nine months ago, closer to ten, when I was with higher ups checking the forest grounds for hunters before the gas was released. And that—that was when I saw her. My friend.” His voice pitched up suddenly, and his eyes began to fill with tears. His mouth was open, he tried searching for the words, but there was none.

“Who was she, Ronan,” Screwllum enjoined, not bothering to end it as a question.

Ronan sobbed. “Cervin.”

Screwllum put a hand where his mouth would be and turned away. The question slipped out. “Was there a baby?”

“She—she—” Ronan stuttered. He dragged his arm over his eyes but the tears kept slipping down. “She looked just like her. She had her eyes. And Jake—Jake—Jake grabbed his kn-knife and—”

Paula threw up.

The group took a moment to recover. Spade asked Ronan a couple more questions, and Xinrui shakily started texting Ratio when her phone was given back to her. It was then that Screwllum’s breath hitched, or at least it sounded that way. “Mr. Caelus and Ms. Stelle—”

“They’re fine,” Ronan told him with a scratchy voice. “They managed to get a meeting with my father, the leader of the whole place. They won’t get their phones back, but they’re allowed to leave later today. I can go back and tell them everything.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ronan,” Screwllum said. Ronan pulled his beanie further down his head and covered his smile with his hand.

“Thank you,” he replied, looking each person (and robot) in the eyes.

Xinrui didn’t have to check her phone to know that Ratio was the one who was calling. “Hey…” she drawed, earning a rather exasperated, “Xinrui!” in return. She smiled, but it was for naught. The bags under her eyes told the whole story.

Riley-XIX was not a pretty place. Xinrui wasn’t even happy about the answers. It sickened her to her core.

“Tell me everything,” Ratio demanded with an audible scowl.

“Well…”

Chapter Text

“Your father?”

Ratio, twelve years old and already entering ninth grade, looked up at the woman in the office with a glare. “My father has no role in my life, ma’am.”

“Right… but I still need his name.”

“... Augustus. Augustus A. Ratio.”

“Oh,” she said, and Ratio prepared himself for the onslaught of questions, “you’re his kid? The Augustus—”

“Of several renowned artistic and architectural universities and studios, yes, that Augustus A. Ratio.”

The woman blinked at him. “Ah. Yes. Sorry. He… he is not present in your life?”

“No.”

“Was he there for your birth?”

“No.”

“Not even financially?”

“No. Ms. Cassia, this is not vital information nor do I enjoy small talk. Please hand me the papers and we shall get this done and over with.”

Cassia turned red, then shifted the topic over to something else as she handed him the stack of papers. Augustus was a man that Ratio despised. The way the media talked about him versus how his mother did was disconcerting, and he refused to believe people were so blind, so idiotic. He had been collecting evidence over the years, but progress had to be put on hold as he enrolled into high school.

After his mother died, he was bombarded with even more questions than beforehand. Specifically, people wanted to know where his father was. That was something he wanted to know as well. Once he earned his second phD, news about his father dwindled, as if the man suddenly stopped existing. Augustus didn’t even attend the funeral, and that was when Ratio lost all hope of the slim chance that Augustus might have cared.

A year after that, Ratio spotted an unfamiliar—yet he could not be more recognizable—man with medium-long, dark brown hair with white streaks, and an unkempt beard outside his university when winter break began. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death. The man was Augustus. Ratio had told him off, ignoring the way his peers observed the situation. Only when he dared to beat Augustus in the head with his heavy codex, did teachers decide to call in authorities. Augustus barely got to tell his story when they had first met, and Ratio listened to him solely for evidence afterwards.

Augustus ‘did not want to leave Valeria.’ Ratio laughed in his face. If he had not wanted to leave, why did he? Well, he had ‘more urgent matters to take care of at the time.’ Disregarding the birth of one’s own son, why didn’t he come back? ‘It kept piling up,’ of course! Ratio sneered at him and seethed in his face.

“You poor excuse of a man; you can’t even get your life together. While mother was caring for me all by her lonesome, teetering on the edge of taking her own life, you’ve been out simply selling art! You did not even try, you… you dolt! You are pathetic! And people love you, for whatever godforsaken reason—people look up to you, praise you, and cherish you, but you can’t even pick yourself up to take care of your own son, or the damn woman you impregnated! You did not even try to send us money, send us letters, send us any hope that you cared about us or, gods above, knew about us! You—”

“Veritas!” It was Rond. Ratio glanced at the man and gave him a brief nod, but immediately went back to staring daggers at Augustus. There was venom in his eyes as they glowed. He hated how he had Augustus’ eyes.

Augustus was taken to court weeks later. Ratio was a witness who shut the court up whenever he spoke with how indisputable his evidence was. His last words to Augustus were, “You disgust me.”

That was years ago. Ratio had yet to get rid of the hate festering in his body, his stomach, his skull, his eyes. Augustus had issues with being too blunt or coming across as mean. Ratio was the same and he hated it. He hated. And the feeling of being a father just like Augustus crept up behind him on late nights whilst he tried washing away his sorrow in baths. He tried ignoring it, tried letting the water heat his hate and evaporate it away, but nothing worked. Reading didn’t work. Math didn’t work. Delving into his own psychology definitely didn’t work. He was at a loss, forever haunted by his father.

Venus babbled ‘mama’ at him, her hands trying to grab at his clothes. Ratio sighed before turning to look at her. She was mad, after all, she was trying so hard to get his attention. Ratio laughed despite his inner turmoil and gave her a rubber duckie. She stared at it, slapped it away, then went back to grabbing, this time with tears in her eyes. “Mi ocelle,” Ratio said with a tiny smile, tickled by her odd antics, “whatever is the matter with you? What do you need?” He held her up under her armpits and studied her. Regular breathing, normal weight, usual motion in the appendages and face. Nothing seemed to be the issue, Venus was just being moody. Ratio clicked his tongue and kissed her on the cheek, and that was when she finally smiled. “Perhaps you need more sleep during the night… You are waking up more frequently due to your gums…”

Ratio decided to leave it be for now, and put Venus in her playpen while he started working out. (And it was an actual playpen this time, since Aventurine’s packages finally arrived. That also included the duckie onesies, but Ratio kept finding excuses to put off taking them out of their box.) He was checking his phone constantly for a text from Screwllum or Xinrui, even one from the Trailblazer twins would be enough, but there was radio silence. In the meantime, he had contacted the Intelligentsia Guild and his universities to let the administration know his situation, and they gracefully gave him two weeks to get everything together. So, with nothing much to do, he had sent his Teacher’s Assistants materials, wrote a message for all his students, and finally contacted the agency that Aventurine gave him.

He was tired. That much was certain. He’d usually get up earlier and do many more tasks, but his body felt sluggish and time moved faster and slower, he wasn’t used to any of it. He suddenly had an even deeper respect for his coworker who got ‘blessed’ with triplets. He shook his head to get the horrifying thought out of his mind and continued working out. He heard Venus beside him warble as she gnawed on a wooden block. ‘Teething…’ he thought humorously to himself.

It was Venus’ third bottle of the day when his phone finally buzzed in his pocket.

Screwllum: Please meet us at Herta’s Space Station soon. There is a lot to go over.

Ratio didn’t respond. With his ship having just been fixed, he packed his and Venus’ things and entered the space station as his destination. Venus let Ratio put her in her old carrier with minimal fussing and didn’t mind his scurrying to get her secure. He sighed with relief and kissed her on the forehead. “Five points to you, mi ocelle,” he murmured as the ship hummed loudly. She laughed. He relished in the sound.

When he stepped foot into Herta’s Space Station, it was surprisingly silent. There were the chirps of devices and the wub-wub-wubs of things floating, but there were no people crowded around him. Ratio had huffed—the first time he visited, most people were freaking out over feigned danger, so nobody was there to really welcome him. However, Screwllum had gone over his many visits, and Ratio dreaded the idea of people crowding around him. He could deal with them in seats listening to him teach, but crowds he did not deal with easily. It was an issue he had ever since high school. So, either everybody was too busy to meet him (he doubted it) or they knew his distaste for overbearing swarms of people (this one also seemed unlikely). Perhaps they were just scared of him, or didn’t know he was coming. It didn’t matter much. He sped over to Herta’s Office, ignoring the blurts of ‘Ratio?!’ or ‘Baby?!’ that followed him.

There were ten people in the office, all staring at him after he yelled out Screwllum’s name. The Intellitron paused his conversation with Herta at the sudden entrance and turned to view a slightly disheveled Ratio.

“Mr. Ratio—”

“Go over everything with me,” he ordered with a twitch of his eyebrows.

Screwllum fell silent. Ratio was about to butt his head into the robot’s despite knowing it would hurt. Screwllum gestured towards an unfamiliar man and spoke. “This is Ronan. He is the descendant of Riley, the very one who founded Riley-XIX. He wants to help the Fallinae and tell his story, so please, hear him out.”

Ronan attempted to shake Ratio’s hand, but he was met with a lethal glower in return. His arm glued back to his side and he laughed nervously. “Um,” he said with wide eyes, “Mr. Veritas Ratio. And… Cervin’s daughter…” Ratio scowled at him and guarded Venus, slowly shielding her by tilting the carrier slightly upwards. Ronan backtracked and stammered, “N-no, no, I—I knew Cervin, back when we were kids. I… well she was a friend of mine. I’m sorry, I-I’ll tell you everything, I swear.”

His sickness. Cervin. His hate for the society he’s been born upon. His want, his need for change. His happenstance upon Venus. The gas. Ratio heard it all. It was hard to find forgiveness within himself, but it was a justly logical response after what Ronan had explained. The sickly man started sobbing, a sight already familiar to the other people in the room, but one that caught Ratio off guard. Ratio did not take pity on others, this was a given. Yet he was understanding—strict may as he be, one’s sorrow is never to be belittled. He told Ronan to take a deep breath and listen to his voice. “Decisions are always difficult, and you cannot avoid making wrong ones, Ronan. But you did yourself and countless others right by leaving.” Ronan’s breath hitched, but he continued. “I have numerous questions, for both you and the many helpful explorers and researchers in this room, but we have weeks to work this out. I want to get this over with as soon as you do, Ronan, yet acting rationally is foolish. We must think.”

“We must think…” Ronan echoed quietly.

“We must also include something else?” Caelus announced while raising his hand. Beside him, Stelle nodded. He cleared his throat and pointed at Ronan. “Yeah, your dad’s kind of a monster, and we sort of beat him up? Sorry, haha…”

Alice’s eye twitched and she cracked her knuckles. “You decided to tell us now?! We won’t be able to go back for more information or those poor people in that building, or, or, buildings!”

“No,” Stelle replied with a proud grin. “We beat up his lackeys in that meeting room, too! And I got the key for one of those cells. We’re stronger than the lot of them anyway, all we gotta do is go back soon and release everybody! Piece of cake!” While Paula was consoling Alice and patting her on the back, the twins cackled and cheered, ‘Trailblazing!’ in a sing-song tone. Herta from behind them snorted to herself when Ratio exasperatedly sighed.

“I thank you two for your contribution, but you need to communicate effectively,” Screwllum told them, which immediately cut their laughter. Caelus elbowed Stelle, who nodded and tossed the key over to Ronan.

“We think it’s best if you do the honors,” the twins said at the same time. Ronan paused at their bizarre simultaneousness but thanked them nonetheless.

“Mr. Ratio.” Ronan turned towards the doctor and smiled, his eyes shutting and lines on his face creasing. “I hope you can join me when I can finally do my—their planet good. For now…” he put the key in his pocket and stepped forward. Ratio no longer hid Venus and let Ronan gaze at her. “Will you let me help you adopt her? It’s what… It’s what Cervin would have wanted. For her baby to live a long, healthy life.”

Ratio couldn’t help himself. He placed the carrier on the ground and held Venus in his arms. “I would very much appreciate that, Ronan.”

Venus laughed and grabbed hold of Ratio’s index finger. Ronan looked down and saw love and beauty, and a rich forest laid tranquilly in her eyes.

A young girl, barely six years of age, sprinted across the garden and entered her home, wailing with joy with each step she took. She wore a loose white dress with golden garments and her dual-colored hair was tightly braided, decorated with plenty of flowers. Her single antler (or horn, but that was neither here nor there) had thin rope tied to it with beads attached. Every time she bobbed her head with the pitter-patter of her feet, the beads jingled rhythmically. “Mom!” she cried out. “Mom! There’s a—there’s a butterfly, look, look!”

“Mi ocelle,” a man warned from his office. “Not so loudly, dear—...” he trailed off upon seeing her. He looked down at her feet still dirty from being outside, then gave her a tired glare. “I know you understand my words when I say clean your feet when you come back inside, Venus.”

“I know! I’m sorry! But you—you have to look! There’s a whole, a whole—um… ka… a scope of butterflies outside!”

“A kaleidoscope, mi ocelle. Ka-lei-do-scope. How many are there?”

“Ka-lei-do-scope. Ka-lei… Too many to count! Come look, mom!”

Ratio huffed endearingly and quit his email for the time being, and let his daughter hold his hand. She led him outside, and the sight was definitely something to behold. He was expecting three, perhaps five, but no. There had to be around, if he had to estimate, fifty, all fluttering about in their backyard. They weren’t doing anything typical of butterfly behavior, not anything that Ratio had ever seen before, at least. Most interestingly, they were green, which weren’t common where he lived. He looked back at Venus, who was laughing and trying to catch a few with a nearby stick.

“Venus, love, what’s your hypothesis?”

The darling five-year-old already understood such a word, being the daughter of the prestigious Dr. Ratio, and put her hands on her hips while she thought. It took her a moment, but Ratio could practically see the apple fall on her head when she held the stick towards the butterflies. “They saw how pretty our garden was and couldn’t re… re… They couldn’t not come down!”

“The opposite of give in, dear.”

“Resist! Resist!” She put her hands in the air and grinned. “They couldn’t resist our garden!”

“That’s a very good idea,” Ratio commended. It seemed like the only one at the time, really, with how the butterflies were just… surrounding this one area. However, after seeing no huge issue like dying butterflies or a predator in the bushes, he picked Venus up and entered the middle of the kaleidoscope. Green whizzed by and brushed Venus’ hands as she tried to touch a few. She was having the time of her life, and Ratio was losing balance keeping her supported, but he loved it. He loved her, and all her enthusiasm for the world and wonders around her.

The garden was like that for a few moments until, finally, the kaleidoscope flew away little by little. Venus was sad to see them go, but Ratio told her they must have had their own share of the fun. Eventually, there were two butterflies left, still airborne and circling each other. Venus gaped in amazement and held out her hand. “Come here, Mrs. and Mr. Butterfly…”

“They’re married?” Ratio asked her.

She smiled and nodded. “They love each other. See?” Ratio chuckled and went along with it, and held out his own free hand. Venus beamed at him joining her, and the two of them waited patiently to see if the butterflies would land on them.

“Mrs. Butterfly, come to me!”

“And why can’t I get Mrs. Butterfly?”

“Because you’re not a girl,” Venus said in a very convincing tone. Ratio just had to nod along. Indeed, he was not.

“Then, I suppose Mr. Butterfly will have to land on me.”

“You shall suppose,” Venus told him as though she were giving him permission. Ratio laughed inwardly and tried his hardest not to make any sudden movements.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Butterfly perched on Venus’ hand. Ratio felt pride swell inside of him as Venus avoided doing anything to scare it off. “She likes me…” she whispered. “Hi, Mrs. Butterfly…” After those nine seconds, the butterfly flapped its wings again and left the garden with the other one following close behind. Venus pouted. “Mr. Butterfly didn’t like you…”

Ratio shook his head and placed Venus back down on the ground. He brought her back inside after cleaning her feet off, and kneeled so he was on her level. “Mr. Butterfly might not have liked me, Venus,” he told her, then rubbed her cheek, “but that does not bother me much. Do you know why?” Venus shook her head with a wobble of her lip. She was quite the empathetic child. “Because you had fun, and you like me plenty.”

“I don’t like you!” Venus gasped. Ratio faltered. She squeezed her hands together, made a rumbling noise, then threw her hands outwards in a ‘boom’ type of way. “I love you. This much!”

Ratio snorted, and pinched her nose. “That is a lot, mi ocelle. Guess how much I love you.”

Venus thought again, taking her sweet time. “Um…” She put her hands together and moved them out a surprisingly low amount. “This much when I don’t clean my feet.” She then moved her hands back to where they were before, wide like stretched dough. “But this much all the time!”

“I’m glad you think so. Now, mom has to continue working. How many books about butterflies do you think you can find in the house?”

Venus yelled, “This many!” without holding her arms out, since she had already ran off before he could kiss her on the cheek. Ratio smiled and shook his head in disbelief. She was a crazy child, but he loved that for her, as she was curious and friendly. The latter was something he had problems with at her age, so he was grateful for her willingness to learn and speak with others.

“Mi ocelle,” he murmured to himself as he sat back down in his office chair, “never change, mi ocelle. I love you.”