Her answer startled Finn, but he did not mind at all.

"Ready to lose?" Lena asked, secretly hoping his pride would continue the game. "What's your favorite thing about me?"

The blue light of the flowers did a remarkable job of concealing the pink tones of his face. Even so, his expression could not be hidden; he reacted somewhat embarrassed.

"I guess, what I like the most," he looked deep into her left and right eye, "is to—jump into the water."

Accepting his defeat, he steered towards the pond. After he had taken off his shirt and shoes, he stepped into the knee-high waters and began walking to deeper grounds.

"Is it cold?" she assumed, based on the goosebumps arousing on his body.

"You tell me!" Finn splashed her in a childish manner and, seeing her shoes get soaked, burst into laughter.

The intended punishment was not fulfilled. He meant to dive his head underwater, but as he turned to do so, he inadvertently allowed the observation of something unique. 

A design of scars crossing one another, to form a constellation carried by his back. Sculpted by an untold history. Lena could only wonder about the tragic chain of causality but thought of it as weirdly beautiful.

Finn heard his name and stopped his action.

"Where did you get those scars?" she asked unabashedly.

He twirled in revelation around half of his body's axis. The attempt of hiding his wounds was an allusion to discomfort and confirmed that to Finn, her pointing out his scars led to his comprehension of their visibility, and was a final reminder that they were there.

"What?"

"Those scars on your back," she repeated, fearing the approach of a lie. "What are they from?"

"The game is over. No more questions."

"Come on, tell me."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

He was honest at last, and although Lena's overflowing curiosity increased her longing for more insights, she respected his introspective behavior and changed the topic to his liking. Nevertheless, she continued asking herself what tortures could engrave such painful memories, and why.

Their legs allayed in the water as they sat on some mossy rocks. Lena's shoes dried aside her, and on the other side dried Finn. 

They talked for many hours more, even when the sun came up they found no end. It was the very first time that she saw him happy and with an open heart, and it was indeed the first time in months that Finn's mind abandoned all agony inside him. 

His laugh was authentic, their conversations silly, and their time spent with plentiful enjoyment.

The fun could not last forever. Without a thrill, they set out for the treehouse to present Finn's plan to Kassiopeia. All three gathered in the living room when he started to announce his idea.

"The neconox will take me to the pranged ship," he said.

"What about me?"

"Lena, you will stay here. It's not safe for you out there. Carrying on. I will dismantle the damaged satellite and come back to fix it here. Once repaired, I will get in touch with my father and tell him to come and get us. We won't mention Kassiopeia to anyone; her peace persists unharmed. Any objections?"

One shook her head in agreement, the other stood to protest.

"I should come with you," argued Lena.

"No. I'm not risking your life again. Don't worry, we'll be gone for less than an hour."

"Hey, boy?" said Kassiopeia when Finn looked ready to leave. "Where did you put ze water?"

Finn's eyes widened as he noted that the canister was still lying near the pond. "New plan. First I'll go grab the water, then I'll go to the ship."

It was decided. Finn and Kassiopeia wasted no time and journeyed to the waterfalls on the back of her pet beast.

Lena, left behind, knew not what to do for the time being. She walked to the bedroom. When she sat herself down on Finn's bed, she spotted his sweatshirt, covering the back of a chair. It hung there to dry after it had been drenched from their juvenile game. Sunbeams fell down through the glassless window and had parched it thoroughly. 

She couldn't resist the temptation of wearing it.

"Just until he's back. He won't even notice," she said to herself to calm the guilt. In vain, she shook her head in disapproval. But with a titter. "What's wrong with me?"

Having failed to fight the temptation, she walked up to the window and began to wonder if Finn had reached the water by now. For all she knew, he may have already been on his way to the wrecks.

The sweatshirt hugged her body; kept it warm and protected. 

Behind her, she heard the wooden floor screech. Had Finn returned for his sweatshirt? Or perhaps for something else? 

With a twinkling smile, she forthwith turned to the door but stared at the face of someone she had expected the least.