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Fuu and Ferio had been broken up for six months before Umi found out about it. Six months! Umi fumed to herself. And it wasn't until she was complaining about her own dismal love life (and prospects) that Fuu thought to mention it to her.
"I can't believe you!" Umi declared again, pointing a finger at Fuu. "Six months! And this never came up in conversation? Just a little unimportant detail that you didn't bother to tell your best friend?"
Fuu blushed. "I'm sorry. It didn’t seem that important at the time, so--"
"Important!" Umi threw her hands up dramatically, then fixed Fuu with as intense a stare as she could muster. "You're my best friend, Fuu. Whatever is going on in your life is important to me! Little things, big things--all of it! Hell, I even care what you had for breakfast, so I certainly care that you and Ferio broke up!"
Fuu ignored Umi’s non-sequitor with the air of one well-used to sifting through conversational chaff (which was fair, Umi supposed. She did tend to wax poetical.) and instead focused on another long-standing debate. "Best friend?" Fuu teased, "What about Hikaru?"
When Umi mock-scowled at her she sighed and looked down. "My apologies, Umi-san. I didn’t intend to make light of your concern."
Umi shook her head, calm enough now to admit that it was herself that she was angry with, not Fuu. She should have noticed something a long time (apparently six months) ago. It was her own failing as a friend that she hadn’t, that Fuu had been suffering alone for so long.
"Not important, huh?" Umi asked ruefully. Fuu gave a tiny nod and Umi sighed and sat down next to her. "I'm so sorry, Fuu."
Fuu didn't say anything, but she did lean into Umi a little. Umi tilted her head so that it rested on Fuu's. It was nice out here, with the warm spring sun warming the old stone bench they were sitting on. The cherry trees would bloom in a week or so, bringing out Tokyo’s residents in hordes, but for now the park was quiet and peaceful. It wasn't as nice as Cephiro--nothing was, really--but it was about as close as you could get while still on Earth.
"So what happened between you and Ferio, anyway?" Umi asked.
Fuu shrugged, her shoulder rising and falling against Umi's. "When was the last time we were in Cephiro?" She asked, answering a question with a question.
Umi thought. "Three--no, four--months ago, now."
"And before that?"
"Another few months before that, I guess. Why?"
“That’s been our schedule ever since the second time we were in Cephiro,” Fuu said lowly.
“I know we stay for some time each visit; weeks, even. And I’ve been content with that. We have our lives to live here, after all. But lately it…wasn't enough. Seeing Ferio so infrequently…" She trailed off.
"I'm so sorry," Umi repeated, feeling helpless and guilty and hating it. "We would've visited more if you'd just said something--"
"I know," Fuu interrupted gently. "You and Hikaru both, even if it would have interfered with your schooling. But I realized that it didn't matter. Whether I saw Ferio or not, how often it was that we visited…I enjoyed his company, of course, but I didn't miss him when we were here on Earth. So we talked, and…" She shrugged again.
Umi carefully wrapped her arm around Fuu, hating to see her normally articulate friend at such a loss for words. "I'm sorry, Fuu," Umi said for what would definitely be the last time. "Sorry that it ended that way, and sorry that we didn't even notice. And," she continued brightly, determined to cheer them both up, "I'm even more sorry that you'll now be in online dating hell with me!"
Fuu laughed. "I don't think I will be joining you in that any time soon."
Umi pouted dramatically, which took some practice to pull off effectively. This time Fuu actually giggled. "What was the latest?" She asked through her giggles.
Umi gave up on her pout and joined her in laughter. "He talked about origami for the entire time. Two hours, Fuu! Two hours --the whole dinner, and at that nice steakhouse, too--nothing but origami. I could hardly get a word in edgewise! And then--then!---he acted surprised when we got the bill. If he was so cheap, why not pick a cheaper restaurant? Ugh!"
Fuu managed to stop laughing long enough to take a deep breath. "So was he worse than the last one?"
"Not worse. Just a different sort of horrible!"
Their laughter trailed off into chuckles. Umi leaned back and gazed up into the deep blue sky. A sky that shade couldn't be found just any day, and Umi thought that it almost rivaled that of Cephiro. There she went, again, mooning over Cephiro! Umi angrily shook the thought loose. She was living on Earth, and she needed to get her head out of the clouds. Maybe then she would actually notice when the people she loved needed her. "I think I'll give up on dating for a while," she decided suddenly. "Maybe I'll quit that site altogether…”
Fuu hummed in response.
"It'll be nice, not trying to find the rare gem among all of those useless men for a bit. The only downside is that I won't have anybody to go to that exhibit with." Umi had wanted to go, too. It was a special exhibit that had opened a week before Valentine's Day, and was scheduled to close a week after White Day. "Romance through the ages,” was the name. Ah well, Umi thought. It would be pretty depressing to go by herself, and she'd rather not go at all than go with one of those creeps from the internet.
"I'll go with you," Fuu said suddenly.
"What?" Umi's head whipped around to stare at Fuu in surprise.
"The exhibit at Tokyo Museum, correct? The one about the history of romance? I'll go with you," Fuu repeated.
Umi stared at her, mind blank. What? Was Fuu really suggesting--
Fuu's eyes were very green this close up, Umi realized numbly. Very green and very beautiful. Also very close. Umi blinked and jerked her head back. "Did you just ask me on a date?" She asked suspiciously.
Fuu smiled gently. "Yes. Is that okay?"
"What? Okay? Yes!" Umi blinked again, thoughts whirring. She felt almost as if her world had been tilted, then put back sideways. Or maybe now it was finally straight? In the loosest definition of the word straight, granted, given what Fuu had just asked (and what Umi was now starting to realize was a really quite fantastic idea), and now Umi was rambling hysterically in her own head. "Yes--that is--I'd love to go to the exhibit with you. That is--" Umi stopped and started again.
If she was going to do this thing, this marvelous thing that all of a sudden seemed so obvious, made so much sense, she was going to do it right.
"Fuu," Umi said, placing her hand carefully on Fuu's white-knuckled hand, "would you be interested in going to the exhibit at Tokyo Museum with me?"
Fuu blushed. "I'd love too," she said, and smiled. Umi had thought that a smile that beautiful could only be found in Cephiro, but there it was, on Fuu's face. Umi decided that it was probably just fine to think about Cephiro now and then, after all, since it could hardly compare when Earth was where Fuu was. She sternly suppressed the urge to kiss that beautiful smile right off of Fuu's face. First date, then first kiss, that was the proper way to do things.
"Come on!" Umi tugged them both up off the bench and onto the path, casually switching her grip so that she and Fuu were holding hands. It felt nice. "I'm hungry. Let's go get some lunch!"
Best to get that first date over with as quickly as possible.
Eleven months after Umi and Fuu’s first date (counting Umi’s way, from their first lunch, not Fuu’s, which was from that “romantic” exhibit at the museum)
Umi and Fuu held onto Hikaru as she sobbed helplessly between them. Hikaru hadn’t said a word: she’d just come into their room in the castle, sat down on the bed, and started sobbing. Umi patted Hikaru on the shoulder and looked across her bowed head at Fuu, hoping that Fuu might have some idea what had caused this. Or what to do about, since Umi was crap at dealing with crying females.
“Hikaru-san,” Fuu said softly, her hand moving to stroke Hikaru’s hair, “what happened? Are you okay?” Hikaru shook her head, then rubbed furiously at the tears that were running down her cheeks. “It’s okay, Hikaru-san. Just cry all you need to. We’re here.”
Umi tightened her arm around Hikaru’s shoulders and was fiercely glad that she had Fuu. Her girlfriend really was the best parts of her, and this--knowing what to do when your best friend was crying hysterically--was something that Umi was really, really bad with. She was suddenly glad that they still shared a room on Cephiro, if only so that Hikaru didn’t have to cry alone.
After long minutes Hikaru finally calmed down enough to speak. “I shouldn’t be so upset, I really shouldn’t. It was my idea, after all, but somehow it still feels like my heart’s been broken.”
Umi shared a quick look with Fuu, knowing that they were thinking the exact same thing: that whoever had broken Hikaru’s heart was going to pay.
“What happened?” Fuu asked again.
“I told Lantis that it was okay if he wanted to go live with Eagle.”
Umi drew in a quick breath. “Huh?”
Hikaru sniffed and opened her mouth, then closed it. Fuu gave her hair a final pat and said, “Shall I see if I can explain for you, Hikaru-san? I think I understand what must have happened.” She continued when Hikaru nodded gratefully. “Eagle is still recovering from his long illness, correct? He’s able to work part-time now, but it must be hard for him: working, living alone, and doing his physical rehabilitation. Lantis has been visiting him and helping out.”
Fuu paused, and Hikaru nodded again. Umi was starting to understand, and an unspeakable fury was rising within her. Fuu continued, “You could tell, couldn’t you, Hikaru-san? That Eagle and Lantis were in love? And you loved them both, as well.”
“I’ve loved them both for so long,” Hikaru said quietly, still sniffing occasionally. “And they love me too. But...it was tearing us all apart. I live on Earth, and Lantis and Eagle live here, whether it’s Cephiro or Autozam. I couldn’t do it anymore. So...I ended it. If I was the one to end it,” she asked suddenly, “why does it hurt so much?”
Umi drew Hikaru close, sandwiching her between herself and Fuu. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into Hikaru’s hair. Why was it that she was always saying that, when it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing she could do? Umi thought that she could hate Lantis and Eagle both, if she let herself.
It turned out that cross-dimensional romances never really worked out.
Hikaru started crying again, quietly this time. Fuu caught Umi’s eyes above her head. I know how you feel, Fuu’s gaze seemed to say. Also, I know what to do about this. Umi thought wildly that she was surely misinterpreting Fuu (which she rarely did nowadays, what with so long as friends and now as a couple), but there was no way that Fuu could be implying what Umi thought she was implying.
What?! Umi thought back at her as hard as she could.
Fuu caught her eye, slowly and deliberately, and then dropped her gaze to where their hands were resting on Hikaru’s back. While Umi watched she stroked the back of Umi’s hand with one finger, then rested her hand on Hikaru’s back again. Umi felt her mouth drop open and made no attempt to close it.
Fuu had turned her world upside down once again, and Umi could only love her more for it. Yes, Umi thought, and smiled.
They would give Hikaru time--time to mourn, and time to heal--and then one of them would do something, or say something, and clue Hikaru in. This bond they all shared would only get stronger.
Umi covered Fuu’s hand with her own, entwining their fingers on Hikaru’s trembling shoulder.