The boys have just met a while ago, but they're seeming like high-school buddies who've been together for years. Quite a surprise, thinks both Cerulean and Indigo, as they talk and laugh. They are in Cerulean's cabin; after lots of hesitations specked with tempting sparks of boredom and mystery, Indigo had decided to come up here.

                Cerulean had been filling in his journal when he came by, and gathering by the delay in which he responded to the knock on the door, Indigo had collected that this guy had secrets which he did not want to be meddled with. But in between their gossip , Cerulean had himself taken out the journal and had pulled out a sketch he had drawn the day before. It's amazing, that's what Indigo had said.
                
It really was. The sketch was simple, a drawing of the sea with its waves and an island visible at a distance, but it was the visualization that made it striking. Soon enough, Indigo had gone over to speak of his own talents, and Cerulean had appreciated them all with his smile.

"Oh you don't seem like a drum person !", Cerulean asks. Indigo laughs. "And there you go, generalizing all the drum rollers out there as 'drum persons'.....what are these persons anyway ?"
                "Not much actually, I came up with the word on spot....free for user interpretation. ", Cerulean replies and leans on the chair he'd been sitting on. "Lets see, I'll interpret it . Drum persons, well, they're either huge and bulky or they are small, pale skinned types, missed the punk ones sorry. Most attend their drum classes after school, and, and yes, they're always humming aloud weird rhythms, and don't care about what impression they're having on the person in front of them....bother they don't, reckless as they are...I do agree there's only a thin line of segregation between meaningless phrases of a lunatic and the incessant hums of a drumm- ", Indigo is in a mood to talk but is soon cut off mid-sentence by Cerulean. "Geez, friend, you do love to talk....drum person, you are way ahead of that." With that, he gives out a chuckle and Indigo can't help but laugh too.

                "Alright, I'll ask you a question...but you gotta come with me some where.", Cerulean speaks up. "Okie dokie, andiamo !", Indigo gets up and fastens his jacket. Minutes later, they're in the captain's room up the residential sectors.
The room is small, shaken by the occasional winds that race along, vibrating with a shudder now and then. Towards the front there is a massive steering wheel, the ones that you see in captain haddock's ships, with leathered handles for grip. The captain stands afar, eyeing the horizon.
  
Cerulean lets out a cough. The captain spins around, recognizes them instantly, and beams. "Why, it's none other than master Cerulean ! Oh, a friend accompanying too....the sinking guy !" , he has a booming voice but his tone is reassuring.  

"I am Indigo, nice to meet you captain !" , Indigo saunters up to the man and in a vain and unsuccessful attempt, manages to do a salute. The man laughs out loud and pats the boy in front of him. "I have something for you, wait, and you will love it." He pulls out watch from his pocket and holds it out on his palm.

Indigo's face lights up. The watch ! The captain hands it over to him. The glass is broken, and the strap is torn, but it is the watch, after all. "Thanks so much captain! I don't know how to thank you for this, where did you find it ?" The captain walks over to the glass wall again. "Oh it's nothing, one of my workmen found that thing stuck in the wreck of your plane and thought it might be important."

"So now, time for my question....", Cerulean speaks up, hating to be left out of the conversation for so long. "Yes, I almost forgot, ask...ask."

"When you look at the sea, what do feel like ?"
"I hear the waves, their rhythm, watch the pattern of the ebb and flow of the water, the motion....I feel pure, and lively...What do you feel like ?"

Cerulean walks up to face the glass wall. His face is turned against Indigo now.
" I see the depths, the swirling colors, the extent, the turbulence of the water....I feel small and tiny, and like I'm nothing at all....."

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