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...neath the sun, warmth beginning to tingle in her icy depths. She thinks of her lover, the sailor Ryuji, still sleeping soundly in his rocking hammock on his ship, the Rakuyo. She rolls a few waves gently under the boat to wake him from his slumber. She thinks of his passionate dreams of her, and for the greatness she holds deep within herself as an oyster might clutch a priceless pearl within its pink folds of flesh. It is almost teasing him, she thinks, the way she keeps all of the answers to his Grand Cause always out of reach. Again and again, she tests his faith and patience with time. * * * Earth grumbles from crust to core. He is awoken by the playful lapping of Sea against his brittle back. She, he thinks, is a perpetual annoyance. She is fickle, changing, always creeping into him, eroding him away. She lacks substance, even purpose, really. She is not tied down to anything, she has no stability. All that she does is beat against him, constantly destroying ...