Past...

The roiling waters buffet the remains of her liferaft. The young woman holds on for dear life, though it's a losing battle. Her dress is soaked through, and if fatigue and hypothermia doesn't kill her, surely the thrashing waves will bludgeon her against the rocks. Thunder crashes overhead as rain pounds down with renewed vigor, and the turbulent waters below her buck and throw her around in reply. If there were gods, they must be desperately convincing her to save herself from a gruesome fate by letting go. As though drowning was more dignified. As though she wouldn't die from exposure if she somehow survives the night. It doesn't matter. She's tired. She's so tired. Waves slap against her boots, her knees, her arms, until finally, she is pulled under. The undercurrent twists and mangles her limbs around as if she is a marionette in the hands of a sadistic child as the water above continues to clap together. She notes that they sound so far away before a violent tumult knocks the air out of her lungs and everything fades out.

Present...

She doesn't remember much of her life before she was Riichi. She knows that there was something there, or rather something is supposed to be there. As far as she knows, she's always been Riichi, and she always will be Riichi; that she may as well have just sprung forth fully-formed from the ocean like a watery, fishy Athena. Either way, she tries to not let it bother her. It's always beautiful here, and there's sunny naps to be had.