Private Beneath Steam and Starlight

[Niijima Izumi]

The steam curled between them like a living thing, softening the edges of stone and shadow, and Izumi found herself grateful for it. It gave her a moment to school her expression, to fold away the sudden, unfamiliar tightness beneath her ribs.

She had faced men on battlefields with steadier breath than this.

“And it’s something I have to choose when the opportunity arises. Worth knowing though? That depends on your point of view. I have made myself very unpleasant to quite a few people. And likely will again.”

"Unpleasant," Izumi repeated quietly, as if weighing the word on her tongue. The faintest curve touched her mouth, not amusement at Adelle, but at the idea itself. "That is a blade many of us choose to carry. It keeps foolish hands from reaching too close."

Her gaze did not sharpen; it deepened. She saw the tension Adelle carried like a hidden blade, the instinct to brace for judgment even in moments of quiet. Izumi recognized it because she had lived inside that same vigilance for most of her life. But where others might have seen hardness, she saw intention. Where others might have flinched at sharp edges, she found herself drawn to them.

"You speak as though you are something to be endured," Izumi said, voice low and steady. "But I do not endure you. I am… compelled by you."

There was no battlefield composure in that confession. Only truth.

She shifted closer by the smallest degree, water whispering against stone. "Your strength is obvious. Anyone with eyes can see it. But it is not only that." Her gaze flickered, deliberate now — taking in the line of Adelle's jaw, the damp strands of hair at her temple, the quiet defiance in her posture. "It is the way you hold yourself together when it would be easier to break. The way you choose restraint instead of destruction. The way you carry power without needing to prove it."

Her expression softened, something warmer surfacing beneath the discipline.

"And yes," she added, more plainly, "I admire your appearance as well. I am not blind. The steam is generous, but not so generous that it conceals you entirely."

The faintest ghost of a smile touched her mouth, restrained but unmistakably sincere.

Izumi exhaled slowly, the breath steady but heavier than she intended. "I have not… felt this before," she admitted. "Not for a comrade. Not for a woman." There was no shame in the words, only unfamiliarity. "My life has been defined by loyalty and steel. Desire had no place in it. I did not look for it. I did not imagine it."

Her eyes held Adelle's now, unwavering.

"But when I look at you, I do not think of strategy. I do not think of discipline. I think of wanting to stand near you. To know what steadies you when the balance wavers. To see what expression crosses your face when you are not guarding it."

The honesty in her voice left no room for misinterpretation.

"I do not know if you would ever look at me in the same way," Izumi continued, quieter but no less direct. "You have every reason to keep your distance. And I would never demand something so personal." A brief pause, then, more vulnerable than any blade could force her to be: "But I would be lying if I said I did not hope."

Hope. The word felt foreign and strangely fragile.

"If my admiration remains unanswered, I will accept it," she said. "It does not diminish what I see in you. But I would rather risk that uncertainty than pretend this is merely respect."

The water stilled around them again, and Izumi's voice lowered to something almost intimate.

"You are not a weapon to me, Adelle. You are a woman who has fought her way back to herself." Her gaze softened, unguarded for a fleeting moment. "And I find that I want to be close to that light… if you would allow it."
​

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Niijima Izumi

"Unpleasant," Izumi repeated quietly, as if weighing the word on her tongue. "That is a blade many of us choose to carry. It keeps foolish hands from reaching too close."

Adelle gave a half-smile then leaned her head back against the stone again. Keeping foolish hands away indeed. She’d been a downright pain to those that had tried to do anything of the sort. Experience was a cruel teacher but incredibly useful at times, if you were the one giving the experience.

Unpleasantness, however.

Na’an and Leigh had been subject to it. Her stubbornness. Her recklessness. The refusal to share a burden that was crushing her. The need to be okay when she clearly wasn’t. It had caused arguments more than once. Created old patterns and habits to the point Na’an had been biting back, pushing until Adelle’s walls and excuses broke.

And even then, she’d never been able to open up.

Now they were gone.

"But I do not endure you. I am… compelled by you."

Compelled by… Wait, what? Adelle blinked and raised her head to look at Izumi. And looked away as she continued, layering praise on praise. The comment on her appearance made her more aware of her own skin, the network of scars that predominantly covered the left side of her body. They made believing anyone that said she was strong or smart, much less pretty although that was one she hadn’t heard in a while, incredibly difficult. They were eternal reminders of when she hadn’t been.

Adelle let the quiet confession continue, sensing the uncharted quality of the emotions Izumi felt. The courage it took to step forward, to continue forward, when the ground beneath you might suddenly disappear. Which meant Adelle couldn’t be blunt. Honest, but not blunt. Izumi looked young—Adelle didn’t want to be one of those cautionary tales she’d tell to others later in life.

“Thank you for your honesty,” she said slowly, looking Izumi in the eye. She would not flinch from this. “I’m afraid though that it’ll have to remain one-sided. My life right now is… It’s been turned upside down and I’m still trying to find my bearings. I’m still grieving what I lost. And you are very young for me. I can offer you friendship, but nothing more.”

She looked over at Phantom, who had returned to her loafing crouch.

“Well, friendship and a feline that enjoys being pet, if you’ll have it.”

 

[Niijima Izumi]

Izumi didn't answer right away.

Adelle's words settled over her slowly, like the steam itself; warm, gentle, impossible to push away. There was no cruelty in the refusal. No dismissal. Just truth, carefully given.

And you are very young for me. I can offer you friendship, but nothing more.

Young.

It echoed, just a quiet recognition of something she hadn't fully considered. She had lived like someone older for so long that she'd forgotten there were parts of her that hadn't yet been explored. Parts that were still new to wanting.

She let out a slow breath.

The hot springs had grown heavier around her without her noticing. The warmth that had once felt soothing now pressed in from every side, thick and enveloping. It slid beneath her skin and into her muscles, dissolving tension she hadn't realized she was holding. Her limbs felt looser than they should. Slower to respond.

Steam curled into her lungs, damp and dense. The air felt thinner somehow. She blinked a few times.

The stone at her back felt farther away than it had a moment ago. Or maybe she was drifting closer to the surface. It was hard to tell. Her pulse hummed in her ears;,steady, but amplified; like she was listening to it from underwater.

Adelle's offer of friendship lingered in her thoughts. It hurt, yes. But not sharply. More like a bruise pressed gently. Izumi gave a small nod, more to herself than anyone else.

"Friendship isn't a consolation prize," Izumi added after a moment. "If anything, it's harder. It asks for patience."

The warmth climbed higher, wrapping around her shoulders, the base of her neck. Her fingers, resting against the edge of the stone, felt strangely numb. Not fully; just dulled. As though they belonged to someone else.

The girl inhaled again. The world shifted slightly to the left.

She corrected without thinking, posture straightening out of pure instinct; samurai discipline even in something as mundane as sitting upright. But the correction came a fraction too slow. Her vision narrowed at the edges, steam and stone blurring together into soft, indistinct shapes. The springs roared quietly in her ears now.

She tried to focus on something steady; Phantom's shape on the edge of the pool, perhaps. Or the line of Adelle's shoulder against the rock. But her gaze wouldn't hold.

A faint warmth flushed across her face, but it no longer felt tied to embarrassment or emotion. It was physiological. Distant. Detached.

Her hand tightened slightly against the stone.

Izumi's posture wavered, the rigid line of her spine finally surrendering as her balance slipped. Her vision dimmed rapidly now, dark spilling inward from the corners like ink in water.

There was a flicker of awareness; of needing to move, to stand, to do…something. But it was too late.

Her fingers lost their grip on the stone, body swayed forward in the water, strength simply… gone, as consciousness slipped out from under her like a blade pulled clean from its sheath.
​

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Niijima Izumi

Something shifted in Izumi. It wavered, flickered. Izumi’s voice softened but not, it seemed, intentionally. Adelle felt a phantom dizzying sensation and Izumi seemed to straighten before her body went slack and she fell forward. Adelle lunged foward and grabbed Izumi’s shoulders before her face went underwater. The young woman was completely limp, her body temperature way too high. Hooking her arm under Izumi’s knees, Adelle carried Izumi out of the hot springs, the night air refreshingly cool.

It was probably time she stepped out of the springs herself, or she might end up like Izumi.

Adelle saw a bench near one of the lanterns and quickly brought Izumi to it, laying the young woman down on her side. Reaching out with a hand, she called her discarded robe to her and threw it on before kneeling to check Izumi. Her chest rose and fell with breath, and a quick two finger check on both wrist and neck confirmed a solid pulse. Unconscious, but alive.

She closed the robe and tied the belt, securing it, as she sat next to the bench.

“Izumi?” Adelle said. “Can you hear me?”

Phantom padded over and braced her forepaws against the edge of the bench, nose sniffing at Izumi’s unsconscious form. <<Wet. Asleep.>>

Adelle scritched lightly between Phantom’s shoulder blades. <<Yes. She got too hot.>>

The sake bottle and small cup still sat next to the edge. That probably also didn’t help matters. Adelle settled to wait for Izumi to regain consciousness, Phantom curling up on the dry parts of the robe.

 

[Niijima Izumi]

The coolness…That was the first thing Izumi became aware of.

Not sight nor sound, just the coolness pressing against her skin, sharp and clean after the heavy suffocating warmth of the springs. The night air moved across damp hair and flushed skin, raising a faint shiver that rippled down her spine.

Her breathing came slowly, deeply, like her body had taken control while she was gone. Her brow knit faintly. Something solid supported her side. Wood, maybe. Hard, but not uncomfortable. Fabric brushed against her cheek, rougher than the smooth stone of the springs.

Her thoughts surfaced slowly, like someone swimming upward through deep water.

Heat…Steam…Adelle.

The memory snapped together a moment later with uncomfortable clarity. Her eyelids fluttered.

The lantern light was soft but still too bright at first, the glow smearing slightly across her vision. She blinked again, slower this time, letting the shapes settle into place; the bench, the lantern, the quiet dark of the springs beyond.

And Adelle.

Izumi stayed still for a long moment, processing the position she was in. The robe around her. The cool air on skin that had clearly been in the water moments ago.

Her hand shifted weakly against the bench.

“…Ah.”

The quiet sound escaped before she could stop it. Not pain, but realization. Her eyes closed again briefly as a small crease of embarrassment worked its way across her brow.

“That,” she murmured hoarsely, voice still thick with returning consciousness, “was… not the impression I intended to leave.”

Her throat was dry. Her body still felt oddly weightless, like gravity hadn’t fully decided to reclaim her yet. When she tried to move her arm, it responded; just slower than usual.

Izumi opened her eyes again and turned her head slightly.

Adelle sat beside the bench. Phantom’s shape rested nearby in a warm, loafed bundle of fur. For a moment, Izumi simply looked at them, orienting herself. Then the memory finished catching up.

The confession, the refusal, the heat. Her gaze shifted upward toward the lantern light, a quiet exhale leaving her.

“…Did I drown,” she asked faintly, “or did my dignity survive at least that much?” She paused, as though thinking of what to say next. Then, a little more honestly, and much softer now: “…How long was I out?”
​

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Niijima Izumi

A faint noise came from Izumi. Adelle looked over as the young woman slowly regained consciousness. Good. The timer in her head still kept going as she was not fully conscious but she was getting there. Adelle smiled to herself when Izumi drowsily muttered something about impressions. Phantom turned her head towards the bench, ears twisting in that direction first.

Izumi’s voice was stronger when she asked about drowning but grew softer when she asked how long she had been unconscious. The timer in Adelle’s head stopped.

Twenty-three seconds.

“Phantom’s an excellent lifeguard,” Adelle said dryly. Then she became more serious and shifted gears into Doc. “Not long. You must’ve been in there quite a bit before I showed up. Although I imagine the sake didn’t help matters.”

She gently nudged Phantom off her robe and turned to face Izumi. “How are you feeling? I don’t think you hit anything when you passed out but I couldn’t tell.”

 

[Niijima Izumi]

The quiet of the night settled around them again now that the brief urgency had passed. The springs murmured softly in the background, steam drifting upward into the cool air. Somewhere close by, Phantom shifted her weight, claws making a soft tap against the wood before the creature resettled. The lantern nearby cast a warm, steady glow that flickered across the bench and the damp stone.

Adelle’s voice broke through that calm ; dry at first, almost teasing; before shifting into something more practical. Izumi caught the change immediately, even through the lingering haze in her head. The tone was different, but it felt comforting to her. The corner of Izumi’s mouth lifted slightly at the mention of Phantom being the lifeguard. The image formed easily in her mind despite the fog still clinging to her thoughts: the creature standing watch over the springs like some appointed guardian.

“I will have to remember to thank her properly,” Izumi murmured, her voice still rough from the heat and steam she’d been breathing for too long.

She swallowed slowly, her throat dry, and turned her head just enough to glance toward the edge of the springs. The sake bottle and small cup were still there, abandoned beside the water where she had left them. Even from the bench she could see them clearly, sitting like quiet witnesses to a decision that had seemed far more reasonable earlier in the evening.

“Not long. You must’ve been in there quite a bit before I showed up. Although I imagine the sake didn’t help matters.”

“…Yes,” she admitted after a moment. “In hindsight, that was probably an ambitious decision.” Her body was still catching up with her mind. The warmth that had built up in the springs lingered in her skin, making the cool night air feel almost startling in comparison. She could feel it moving through her damp hair and along the back of her neck, slowly drawing the heat away.

When Adelle asked how she was feeling, Izumi didn’t answer right away. The question was asked like a doctor would ask it, and she treated it with the same seriousness.

She moved her fingers once, watching the way they moved. Then she rotated her wrist slowly, testing the joints and tendons. One shoulder rolled experimentally, then the other. Each motion was small and deliberate, the quiet habits of someone who had spent a lifetime learning how to assess her body after a fall or a strike. “I don’t believe I struck anything on the way down,” she said finally, her voice steadier now. “Nothing feels… wrong.”

Her gaze drifted back toward Adelle as she spoke, studying the other woman in the lantern light. Something in the memory of the last few moments was starting to return with more clarity now; the shift in the water, the sudden movement before everything had gone dark.

She remembered being caught. Izumi’s expression softened slightly as the thought settled. “You moved quickly,” she said quietly. It wasn’t dramatic gratitude. But the acknowledgment carried its own weight. For someone like Izumi, the simple recognition said enough. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Phantom, who had apparently been quite comfortable occupying the robe until recently. “And with assistance, it seems.”

A faint breath of amusement followed that observation, the tension in her shoulders easing a little more.

After a moment, Izumi tried shifting her position on the bench. She braced a hand lightly against the wood and pushed herself a little more upright, moving with careful control. It was the same measured kind of motion she would use after a hard training match; testing the limits of her balance without committing too quickly.

For a second, it seemed like it might work. Then the world tipped just slightly to the side. Not enough to send her falling again, but enough to make it very clear that her body still had its own opinions about the situation. Izumi paused halfway up, exhaled slowly through her nose, and then allowed herself to lean back again with quiet acceptance. “…Perhaps I will lie down for a moment longer, if you don't mind,” she said sheepishly. The cool air brushed across her face again, and she closed her eyes briefly, letting it pull a little more of the lingering heat from her skin. The dizziness was fading, but slowly; like the last ripples on water after something heavy had disturbed it.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked back toward Adelle. "Adelle, I assume you've been part of the Mandalorian Empire for quite some time. If you aren't in a hurry to be somewhere, would you mind telling me a bit more about it?" Izumi wondered if this question was too vague of a question, or even slightly inappropriate since she should know much more about the place that provided her with shelter and peace for the longest time. "I'm originally from Atrisia..." she added softly, her eyes cast down as though slightly ashamed to admit such a thing.
​

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Niijima Izumi

“I will have to remember to thank her properly,” Izumi murmured.

Adelle breathed a laugh, stroking Phantom’s fur as the spukami walked back onto her lap and tried to reclaim a place of comfort. She did, however, watch Izumi closely as she carefully moved different parts of her body slowly. There was a precise method to it that spoke of familiarity with recovering from a fall. The young woman reported that nothing felt off or wrong.

“Good,” Adelle said, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. There was always the chance of some internal injury with falling, especially falling in a place like a hot spring. Adelle couldn’t see any hazards below the water’s surface and the steam only served to help hide rocks or snags.

Izumi thanked her softly and Adelle nodded once. It was what she did, what she had always done since her escape from Krayt. Helping others felt better, emotionally and mentally, and while she knew there were psychological and sociological studies that asserted it was good for human minds, Adelle knew it wasn’t just that. With her genetics, it went beyond that.

Adelle’s attention sharpened on Izumi as she tried to slowly sit up on the bench, muscles tensing to lunge forward just in case. She moved with the same slow, methodical care she had when checking herself for injury, still with the same familiarity that spoke of habit, but paused midway through the motion. The young woman eased herself back down with a controlled breath.

“…Perhaps I will lie down for a moment longer, if you don't mind,” she said sheepishly.

“I would prefer if you did,” Adelle said gently. “There’s no need to rush things. Unless you’re feeling cold now and would like to be indoors.”

She crossed her legs and moved so that her back leaned against the bench near Izumi’s knees, needing the support for her back. A gentle breeze blew, cool on her skin after the heat of the spring. Adelle closed her eyes, listening to the rustle of the trees around them, feeling the rumble of Phantom’s purring against her diaphragm. Behind her, Izumi stirred.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked back toward Adelle. "Adelle, I assume you've been part of the Mandalorian Empire for quite some time. If you aren't in a hurry to be somewhere, would you mind telling me a bit more about it?"

“No, I’m sorry,” Adelle said, shaking her head slowly. “I’m afraid I’ve only been here a few months at most.”

Atrisia didn’t ring any bells so she had no context for why Izumi’s admission sounded more like a confession. But she wasn’t going to pry.

“From what I can tell, it seems to be… less militant than other Mandalorian groups I’ve seen,” she said. “Granted, I haven’t encountered many. Just a couple bounty hunters and an army on an anti-Force crusade.”

Adelle let silence settle for a moment before continuing. “I have had the honor of meeting the Mand’alor though. Didn’t know it was him though. He struck me as an honorable man, someone that keeps his word once it’s given. Not a coward but smart with how he orders people.”

 

[Niijima Izumi]

Izumi listened quietly, letting Adelle’s voice settle into the calm of the night the way the steam had earlier.

There was something steady about her when she spoke like this, even when she admitted uncertainty, it didn’t sound like weakness. It sounded like someone who knew exactly where her knowledge ended and refused to pretend otherwise.

Izumi respected that.

She remained where she was on the bench, one arm resting loosely at her side, the other draped across her midsection as her body continued to cool. The dizziness had mostly faded now, though there was still a lingering softness in her limbs, like the strength hadn’t fully returned yet. The night air brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of pine and mineral water, and she drew in a slow breath, letting it steady her further.

At Adelle’s suggestion, she gave a small, compliant nod.

I think remaining here is the wiser choice,” she said quietly. “For now.”

Her gaze drifted past the lantern for a moment, toward the dark treeline beyond, before returning to Adelle; or rather, to the shape of her where she leaned back against the bench, Phantom settled comfortably against her. There was a kind of quiet balance there. The way Adelle allowed herself to rest without fully letting her guard down. The way her hand moved absentmindedly through Phantom’s fur, familiar and grounding. It wasn’t something performed.

In a way, Izumi had forgotten what that felt like; to be true to herself and not be a character in a show.

“I can’t speak to them with any authority,”she admitted after a moment. “I’ve only seen fragments. From the outside.” Her fingers shifted lightly against the robe, grounding herself as she continued. “But… from what you described,”she added, voice quieter, “someone who keeps their word, who thinks before they acts… that sounds like a person worth respecting. Regardless of what banner they stand under. I have not met the man himself, but I trust your depiction of him. A banner needs someone like him to lead...."

She let that thought settle instead of expanding on it. It wasn’t her place to define something she had never truly belonged to.

Her gaze lifted again, settling back on Adelle. "It's hard for someone like me to find a place under a banner...or to really know what that means…’ her voice was quiet as she opened up a little more, vulnerability and its consequence gnawing at every fibre of her body. She could stop there, she would if it was someone other than Adelle she was speaking to. There was just something about her that made Izumi continue, "I was brought up to protect, to fight and to protect the honour of my lineage. I guess that fits a little bit in the Mandalorian Empire..." it was not a question, but that of pure reflection.


And then, as though remembering what Adelle had mentioned, she revisited her initial statement. "You're new here too? Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"

Adelle Bastiel​

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Niijima Izumi

Where was she from?

What a question to ask. Born on Corellia, earliest memories of Coruscant, years of living with a Jedi Order on some small backwater planet, and then moving to a farm on Dantooine. Adelle couldn’t really say where ‘home’ was. ‘Home’ had always been defined by the other people she lived with.

“Dantooine, most recently,” she said quietly. “I was off-planet when the planeshift happened. Spent the last couple years trying to find home again but I ran out of credits and options in Mando space.”

Silence settled in the night between them, a gentle peace aided by the sound of the hot spring and the quiet rustle of trees. Adelle felt sleep calling to her but the idea of her bunk in her ship still filled her with dread. Maybe the trip to the hot springs would help her actually sleep tonight. She didn’t have high hopes.

Izumi had talked more about herself before the question she posed. Raised to defend, trained to fight for a bloodline and legacy, but never, apparently, fighting under someone’s banner. Adelle thought about her own experiences, what she could remember. She’d first fought and killed because someone ordered it, someone that essentially owned her existence without her ever being a true slave. Then she had fought for the Jedi, the second important choice she’d made for herself in her remembered life. They had trained her to hone the skills contained by muscle memory, gave her a cause worth fighting for. With CorSec, it was similar: fighting to protect the order established by a government that was intended to provide for its people. Both the Order and CorSec had been flawed institutions, but they had been working toward the right direction.

“I’ve never fought because a bloodline demanded it,” she said at last. “Most of my life, I’ve fought for a cause or for law and order. I… lost both before living on Dantooine. The Mand’alor… seems like a good leader, as far as my limited experience with Mandalorians goes. I can’t honestly say I wholesale believe in many of the Mandalorian beliefs, if any, but I could follow Aether.”