Yuri Worlds
[111] Reflection
After the ceremony, and after they had acquired and safely secured all the legal paperwork, Yumeko, Silvia, and Fiona returned to the beach intending to walk down to the pier at the end of the road. Yumeko's girlfriend finally texted her back about a pick-up after lengthy apologies regarding getting lost in outfit ideas for her at a nearby clothing store.
Yuka and Carrie stayed behind at the chapel. The building had a small balcony that overlooked the area at the top of some winding stone stairs. They climbed carefully. A pair of broad-back bamboo lounge chairs greeted them at the summit. The view, with the sun loitering on the water due to the strange angle of the shoreline, calmly reminded Yuka of home. A breeze softly fluttered at their hair, flapping the longest locks over their eyes.
They each appeared as though they had something they really wanted to say—the start of something profound. But just the faintest groans emerged. Comments about what just happened, about the beauty of the world before them, and a dozen heady, beautiful thoughts should've been an erupting waterfall of words, but it was all dammed up.
Frustration crossed their faces as they abandoned speaking and simply reached out an arm for one another. But the gap between the chairs was too wide. It was easily resolved by a rough, insistent scoot that did more than enough, practically clacking the two chairs together. They pulled each other close and leaned back with relief.
Silence settled aside from birds darting above and cars passing in the street until Yuka softly started singing. It was supposed to be Japanese, but it still sounded harmonious in translation as she softly progressed through an English version.
The song told the story of a little monster that lived in the closet of a classroom. It was so afraid to come out because it was scared of all the noisy little girls around. Late at night, everyone who lived nearby could hear strange and wild sounds coming from that school. They thought it was a vengeful spirit, angry and horrifying. What they didn't know was that the sound they heard was the little monster breaking down in mournful tears every night because it was so lonely.
One night, this little girl was there late because her mother was a teacher. When the wailing started, her mother urged her to leave with her. But this girl was strange and a little bit brave. She wanted to see what was causing all these stories and fears. She snuck away and found the closet where the little monster was curled up so sad.
She wasn't afraid of it, even though it was terrified of her. The girl touched, squeezed, and talked to the little monster. The little monster was baffled by how the girl wasn't dangerous. Her hugs felt nice. But the girl had to leave because her mom was looking for her. She promised she would be back soon.
And she returned every night she could. They talked to one another, and they danced. She showed the monster everything in her classroom and explained about girls and the world outside. The little monster had a friend.
They treasured every opportunity to spend time together. But there was a problem: the little girl's family was moving away soon. She would be too far away to visit the little monster. They both cried, but the little girl promised she would tell stories about the little monster wherever she went so that everyone would know how wonderful it was. She made the little monster promise that it would be bolder and not afraid when it came to making friends. It promised to try.
Time passed, and without the little girl who helped it so much, the little monster retreated to its old ways. However, occasionally, it would find ways to sneak out and do nice things for the little girls at the school. But it was so desperately lonely and struggled not to be scary when it cried.
One day, it was so tired of the sadness and the loneliness that it decided it would just step out into the light of day, and whatever happened happened.
In the middle of a lesson, the little monster walked out of the closet and offered itself up to the swarm of little girls. There were screams all throughout the room, not of terror… but of joy.
Everyone in the school knew the story of the good little monster who watched over and blessed them. They had shrines dedicated to it that it never knew about. And standing at the center of the room, all grown up and now a teacher, was the precious little girl who opened the little monster's heart. They danced and sang together in celebration.
When Yuka finished, Carrie had already gotten her several spools of toilet paper to use as impromptu tissue. She admitted that the song actually started out as a story for kids before being made into musical form. There were a bunch of folklore tales involving monsters that she knew, but she thought that one was the best because it wound up so happy. Carrie knew a few of them from her studies before the trip, even though they were the versions that used to exist around here.
"Today has been so perfectly magical already, and there's so much left to it. At the same time, it feels like it's all speeding away from me. Like all these cars rapidly chasing one another wherever they're going. I can't sit still. At the same time, I have to sit still, or I won't enjoy it. I don't know what to do. I'm so happy, and I'm also so scared of how soon we have to say goodbye, and I don't know when we'll see each other again."
Carrie wrapped her up in her arms and held her close. That served as a better comfort than whatever words she might wield without certainty that she could back them up. A topic then flashed through her mind.
"What should we call each other?"
Yuka responded with rising and falling eyebrow wiggles, as though they were furry little boats on an invisible ocean trying to ride out the tide.
"What do you mean?"
"My name is Carrie Fowler. Your name is Sasaki Cerberus, or thereabouts. My name was Takano Misaki. We've gone through a lot of changes. And none of that has altered my love for you. However, all that feels so formal. What should we call each other when it's just the two of us? I kinda hinted at this with Ceri. I've thought cutie, sweetie, honey, and all sorts of familiar little words. But what would you like?"
She grasped her meaning but admitted that back home, such terms were generally rare. The typical notes were "my love" and "my dear" in the way that Kosame emphasized them most egregiously. But Yuka admitted that they didn't necessarily have to follow any of that precisely. They could play at least as loosely as they did with the ceremony.
"What words make you happy?" The same question fluttered out of each of their mouths in various states of formation. They laughed together and gave it some quiet thought. The topic of shortening Cerberus cutely had already come up, but since that sounded so close to her partner's name now, Yuka felt reticent to lay claim to it. Cute and goofy possibilities spilled out without judgment or certainty of where they would go.
"A part of me. A part of my heart. 'My love' is still cute. 'My dear friend' is a little too light. My thousand years? My echo. My reflection, my best. Makes sweetie way simpler. Care is also nice if you're okay with that."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Carrie readily accepted Care as their thing with one another. Her mind dashed between all sorts of possibilities, landing particularly on the silly little notion of Ceeyu. She played around with 'see you soon'. My love and my heart were also nice, along with simple Cee. Despite all that wondering and pondering, they didn't really come to any further conclusions except to use words that made each other happy as they came up with them.
Yuka's relaxation would've been preferable, but her mind leapt from this topic to thinking about contacting Naoko, or at least leaving her a message about their ceremonial joining. She knew that her friend wouldn't judge her for marrying without her mothers' permission; it was beyond their control. But the voices of social pressure inside her head left her sweaty and tense. Carrie had to level some heavy-duty care on her loved one to take her from a nervous puppy to a calm and relaxed one. The tears started to come back, but gently brushing her hair helped.
It took a while, but the two of them stood up from the bamboo chairs, as centered and serene as they had laid out on them. When they met up with Fiona and Silvia, there was some disappointment that Yumeko had already left with her girlfriend, but they all had her contact info, along with several cute shots to show off.
After indulging in the sand and the beach to the point of contentment and snapping several more shots and videos with the communication device, they roamed around the small resort town before deciding it was a little too opulent.
Yuka earned a proper trip to a 7-Eleven, and the area had a surprisingly fancy one. Despite that boost in standards, she folded her arms and scrutinized the small rows. She promised not to judge it unfairly but to let the others decide on snacks since nothing drew her interest. As with the challenging breakfast from a few days ago, she sampled carefully and ate lightly.
It was still relatively early in the day, so they made the decision to venture towards downtown Los Angeles and Little Tokyo. Parking was stressful for Silvia as the navigator, even though Fiona looked quite relaxed. Immediately, Yuka latched onto a distinct aura for the region. It felt like home, even though it was a small, carefully tended snippet transplanted like a delicate bonsai.
The anime transformation from the flood hadn't skipped over this area. Colorful girls with the eyes, height, and character of Yuka wandered about with uncertainty in their steps but dedication in their poise. Selections of public art, nothing like what they witnessed on their trip, lined the walkway. Beautiful gardens stretching in ornate tiers and cresting from side rooftops caught everyone's eye. Yuka had to see the museum on the side, and she was gleeful to experience the street foods and noodles compared to back home.
Fiona and Silvia gave the honeymooning couple some time alone and checked out the small market. It wasn't so much a romantic jaunt, as Yuka blasted through a narrow amusement park as though she were inspired by Maharu's rocket launches. She resisted the urge to pant on the wagashi shop windows. Anything she wanted, though, her… wife promised to get her.
More than the food, Yuka delighted in greeting whoever she could in her native tongue. Even though it wasn't a foreign language to Carrie, she used simple words haltingly, as though she were just learning Japanese. Her efforts were somewhat confusing as she spoke simply, but the women with feathered eyebrows noted that her use of language and intonation were precise. She eventually went back to talking normally after Yuka got in plenty of teasing nudges. And they bought plenty of little sweets to share, sampling half each.
If they were hungrier, they might've tried the shabu shabu. Instead, Yuka opted to sample their soba since, with Haruka's supposed buckwheat allergy, it just wasn't prepared around the house. In fact, Yuka confessed that many of the things she'd sampled so far were usually things she avoided out of consideration for her elder sister. And, since they were items that her mothers rarely prepared, they had less of a chance of being primed by expectations and memories that restaurant quality would never be able to match.
Her conclusion, after devouring so much that Carrie half expected that she would have a cartoonish potbelly to show for it, was that it was the best of her expectations without the salty bitterness of things that she feared she may not experience again for a long time. She slurped hard and looked especially happy with her lady love sitting next to her at the noodle bar. With a plethora of dressed-up women and dazed tourists looking like they fit together with soft, artful lines traced across their bodies, one could really believe that they were back in the other world, if only for a moment.
Yuka greeted all the girls around her warmly with words in Japanese and whatever else translated. Some of their ethnicities were difficult to precisely discern. One had lightly bluish hair reminiscent of Maharu without looking anything like her. Carrie couldn't tell if it was dyed or a sign that whatever animating force washed over them had intentions to turn things super anime.
While they were there, they opted to be as social as possible, an uncommon sight for a city center such as this. Carrie suspected that their actions raised eyebrows, especially from the restaurant owners, but they weren't doing anything negative. The mood of the crowds soon brightened.
It was clear that tension still loitered in the air, like a haze deeper than the downtown smog that once clung to the big city, which had been expunged by this new art style. When they left, the after-effects of this courtesy were noticeable in the cheerful sense that spread through the area, quietly evocative of what Fuyuki called Shimai. A sense of community among these still shell-shocked sisterly girls.
Bakeries along the thoroughfare wafted with twisting, complicated fresh aromas that brought warm feelings and opened nostrils. After a last pair of pastries, they checked out a miniatures shop before heading into the museum. It was far simpler than either of them expected. Paintings, along with various cultural totems, themed the different wings of the museum.
As with everything else, the girlish turn toward the world and culture had sharp overtones throughout the space. Spirit mentions had spread all around. Feminine imagery and shapes saturated the sculptures in particular. Girl and woman seemed potently synonymous with human in the scattered phrasings and handwritten explanations for artifacts.
The visuals were fascinating, and the implications were curious, but Carrie could tell that the effects of the flood on the world were deepening and sinking into the marrow. It made her wonder what was coming next. This was a restoration of the way things used to be, but how would they develop?
Would the ultimate result be even more pronounced than in the other world? Would they literally shift to become like them? It was a prospect that excited aspects of Carrie but also deeply terrified her at the same time. Change is scary, especially when you have no idea when and if it's going to stop or where it will leave you. All they could do was hold on and hope for the best.