Daiyu picked me up in her white limo. It was only my second time riding a luxury aircar, and I tried not to gawk at the projections across all the windows as I sank into the long white leather seat. Daiyu had chosen an underwater scene, submerging us in blue waters shimmering with faint sunlight. Iridescent jellyfish floated by, and strange puffer fish bobbed in and out of view. And although there was plenty of space, she slid down to sit right beside me, close enough that our thighs touched.

I dialed down my suit’s temperature with a thought command. I had kept my distance from Daiyu during my recovery, and her proximity now brought a flush of warmth that had nothing to do with a fever. I was grateful for the suits that separated us. She spent the time talking about the strange sea creatures that drifted past: a majestic lionfish on full display, and a slithering bright blue–and-yellow ribbon eel. “The lionfish have venomous fin rays,” she said as one swam past our window.

The rendered image was so real, I was half convinced we were gliding beneath the sea.

“The beautiful creatures are often the most dangerous,” she murmured.

We had both taken off our helmets, and I raised an eyebrow at her comment, but she was studying the lionfish intently. We swept through clusters of seaweed, and Daiyu pressed a button on the panel. The images slowed on our windows, and we drifted among the seaweed.

“These are one of my favorites,” she whispered and pointed at a stalk of pale green kelp. “A leafy sea dragon.”

I didn’t see it at first but then discerned a fantastic creature among the leaves, as if made from foliage itself. It nestled against the seaweed, almost completely camouflaged. “That’s amazing,” I said. The seahorse perched among the green, quiet and serene. “It’s so peaceful.”

I felt Daiyu’s gaze turn to me, and our eyes met. I grinned, but her own smile barely touched the corners of her mouth. Unnerved, I reached over and clasped her hand for a moment, her skin cool against my own hot palm. “What?” I asked.

I remember, I waited for her to say.

You were the one.

She shook her head, then smiled again, but it was wistful, tinged with sadness. “So many of these sea creatures are gone now. Extinct.”

“Ah,” I said. “That is sad.”

She nodded solemnly and pressed something on the panel again, and the oceanic views disappeared, revealing a hazy Taipei skyline, shimmering just after dusk. A few airpeds zipped past us in the other direction, toward the heart of the city. She pressed close to me and rested her head against my shoulder, twining our fingers together, the gesture natural and familiar.