ZERO | INHALE

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OF ALL THE SKILLS VALUED IN DISTRICT FOUR, PEARLING WAS AT THE VERY TOP

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OF ALL THE SKILLS VALUED IN DISTRICT FOUR, PEARLING WAS AT THE VERY TOP. One had to have complete control over their breathing, diving to the ocean floor in one gulp of air and seeking out oysters before resurfacing. Divers learned how to regulate their body temperatures as they swam down into water even during the winter months.

There were very few Pearlers left in District Four, most growing too old to continue, their successors too focused on the war around them to worry about calcium carbonate balls to decorate the ears and necks of their attackers.

At seven years old, Hestia Sargasso proved herself to be up to the temporarily nugatory task.

During the worst days of the war, teacher's in Four would rent boats to take their students out not too far from the beach. Bombers would target buildings, not the sea. If they did, a quick dive underwater would limit injuries.

There were eighteen students total out on the water the day Hestia proved herself. Some swam, others attempted to fish.

A group of five decided to see who could hold their breath the longest. Hestia, a quiet girl who seldom interacted with other students, dunked her head as they did. The dark water cloaked her black hair, hiding her from view as one by one the other students broke the surface gasping for air.

Their teacher, a chronic worrier, counted five heads where there should've been six. "Hestia...Hestia is still under."

Seconds ticked by, then a minute. The teacher began to pull off her shoes and socks, tossing them to the side as she prepared to dive down for the child.

She had no need to; Hestia broke the surface just as the teacher began working on her left moccasin. The seven year old didn't speak, swimming towards the ladder of the boat and thrusting her arms up to the teacher, oysters held in each hand, like a dog returning with a bird in its mouth; startling but the holder unaware of this.

"Hestia...did you swim all the way down?"

A nod, "I practice holding my breath in the bath." She liked the way the water cloaked all noise, a rumbling hum filling her head as she shut her eyes.

Her teacher took the oysters, setting them aside as she crouched closer to the ladder. Hestia stared back with expectant brown eyes, awaiting praise— or more likely, a scolding. No matter what she did, it seemed to always be the wrong thing.

"How long can you hold your breath for?"

At the query, Hestia took a gulp of air and turned head over heels in the water. As before, a minute passed. Then two. Then three. At three minutes and forty seconds, the crown of her head emerged.

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