Yuri Worlds
[58] Separation
Chika’s full presence of self returned moments later without knowing that any time had passed. Maintaining the thick mask of assurance that it was all right took everything Misaki had.
She acknowledged that their families had a history of rushing into marriage matters and lamented the obstacles in her and Yuka’s way to spending time with one another. It seemed like a silly idea, surrounded by clichés about marrying a waifu. And truly, if Misaki looked at it rationally, they hugged in greeting, they went for a flirtatious walk, they brushed each other‘s hair, showered together, snuggled, and then came to the conclusion to spend the rest of their lives together just based on those brief experiences. But it still felt like enough. Love didn’t need to achieve a certain level of experience to become love. It just happened; it was stupid, irrational, and beautiful like that. Chika agreed, even though she was still swarming with uncertainties and questions.
With a heavy breath, her uncertain little sister sat up on the bench and scrutinized Misaki. She took in her body language, noticing the sense of fear and uncertainty, but not directed towards this topic. A sheen of sweat glossed her skin, as though she were strangely frozen short of a cry she couldn’t share about some dreaded monster looming right behind Chika’s shoulder. Beyond that swath of fear, Misaki knew that all her tormentor had done was limited to half of their terrifying potential. A remote-controlled Namiko and Yasha. Could whatever they were be the real killer?
It was a random but vivid notion. No one knew the face of the killer, and maybe it didn’t even matter since these cruel, alien wristbands allowed for remote control of someone wearing them. A darker notion clouded Misaki‘s thoughts as she realized that several days had passed with her fully exposed to their powers. What actions may she have forgotten? What could the wristband have made her do in that time? She didn’t have any conspicuous gaps in her memory, but she doubted that whatever this was would’ve left glowing, obvious footprints.
So, there was no point in stressing out Chika. Despite not feeling it sincerely, Misaki returned to her relaxed, confident smile. Trust her. She and Yuka may have only known each other for a short time, but they were committed to remaining together forever. Chika‘s mouth wiggled with an uncertain frown. Misaki took a breath.
"I am so sorry for the way I’ve treated you for so very long. I know, I know that I’ve changed since I was a stupid little kid. And I know we’ve talked about it, and you’ve gotten over it and all that. But I still feel like I’ve left it unsaid that I treated you so poorly just because you were a cute little boy who was truly more of a little girl with a desperate heart hidden inside. I should’ve held your hand when you felt scared. I should’ve hugged you even though everyone else would’ve called me a weirdo. I should’ve been the kind of friend you truly deserved all those years." To complete her point, Misaki wrapped her arms around Chika and planted a kiss firmly and fully on her lips.
Halfway through, she opened her eyes to see that Chika’s eyes looked like they were about to pop. When their lips parted, it seemed like Misaki was the one to accidentally snag a spirit to ride along with her. Chika wobbled with open-mouthed shock, and Misaki really did have to use a hand to keep her from tumbling over. It took several seconds before Chika was able to squeak out her urgent need for the restroom. She loudly speed-shuffled across the wooden floor. Misaki gladly gave her as much privacy as possible.
Chika needed to make several trips to her suite before she was able to "properly compose herself in a ladylike manner", she explained. Once all that was done, she was still squirming but managed to crack the joke, "Do you French your sister with that mouth?" From there, all sorts of original films Princess Leia quips leaked out. There wasn’t necessarily ice between them, but the tension sublimated, and Chika smiled freely and without reservation. Misaki attempted to show the same despite the cold, black fear needling her brain that an unseen puppeteer could take control of her best friend on a whim, at any moment.
At the crest of a wave of uproarious laughter over pop cultural speculation, Chika scooted closer and gently rested her head on Misaki‘s shoulder. It looked for all the world like she wanted to return the courtesy of an undisguised kiss, but she resisted that urge and nodded gently.
“The two of you have my blessing. Not that it would have any real weight or meaning one way or the other. I’m not actually your family. But maybe I get close to playing it on the Internet. Haha….Even if I were mad at you or upset that my chance never came, I would never ever hold it against you. And I have gladly forgiven you for all the things that happened when we were kids. I’m kind of rambling now, but you get my point.”
Leaning forward, Misaki touched Chika cheek-to-cheek and sincerely smiled. She thanked her for her blessing and made sure she knew that it had real weight and meaning to her because it came from such a dear loved one. And she further thanked her for her loving forgiveness for her childish misdeeds. Still swarming with embarrassed heat like a human kettle about to overflow, Chika stumbled through her one demand for the wedding.
“You have to make me the best man and the flower girl. I can gladly play both roles with ease. I will take care of you as a brother in arms and spread love and cheer as the cutest girly girl anyone has ever seen. Although I don’t think I can beat the job you did as flower girl way back when, I solemnly promise to do my best and make sure those petals shine. Or whatever it is they’re supposed to do.”
Misaki still wasn’t that great when it came to a poker face. In fact, her bolstered sincerity and openness made it worse. Chika immediately detected that something was off and pressed her about it.
"You remember me being a flower girl?" Misaki searched her own memories for a solid foundation to settle upon. The wristband or something had altered her recollection of a wedding many years ago, where she was supposed to be a little boy in a cute suit and a bowtie before that morphed into a flower girl in a white, sunny dress. Chika recited all the same details that Misaki could claim from her own recollections. She had to ask the obvious question of Chika, "Doesn’t that seem weird? Why would my parents dress me up like a little girl?"
The answer to that seemed strikingly obvious to Chika as she started to formulate her response. But as the notion passed from her brain to her lips, her certainty started to peter out. Yes, it would be weird that her parents just did that to Franklin. They weren’t the sort. They would always say something if Guy came over wearing anything the least bit questionable or froofy. It wasn’t as bad as his situation back home, and he could play it off as a silly joke. They knew that Dwight once dressed up as his sister so that a class photo could be taken when she was sick, but his parents simply tolerated it and brushed it off with the fact that he was helping her.
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Their memories of this wedding incident matched up precisely as they compared different details of the church. It was like they had both actually been there that day. But Misaki didn’t have any recollection of Guy being present.
Even more odd details nagged her as she prodded her memory. It was a wedding between two brides. She was absolutely certain of that, but the timing would have been wrong, and her parents would've absolutely avoided that sort of wedding, despite both taking up the thin claim of being progressive. Misaki had to take a step back and reflect on the larger picture. Considering her recent thoughts, a new one settled into her mind as she thought about her parents, two mothers who emerged when she started talking to Yuka about boys and her world. If it was her world.
It was an impossible notion, but she braced herself and presented the thought, “Do you think it’s possible we might actually be from somewhere other than the world we know?” Misaki wrestled with the phrasing in a few different ways, also considering just bluntly proposing that this world was their home rather than the one they knew. That was a much more tenuous possibility. Not that the question she opted to go with was much better, but it was better than just remaining silent and tortured with uncertainty.
Chika didn’t quite do a double take, but her head motioned a few ways as if she were on the verge of one or adamantly shaking her head. "What?! No no no. Of course, I don’t. This isn’t our home. This is just a vacation, and there’s been a lot of weirdness and confusion because the technology the company uses has those long disclaimers. It messes with us so much. I thought all kinds of weird things, and you had a… temporary personality and physical change. And those jerks still won’t get back to me about these issues! But that doesn’t mean that everything we know and trust is wrong. I don’t wanna lose you. After last night and this kind of talk, I’m really scared that something’s happening to you. I know you love Yuka, and I want you both to be happily married, but if you’re thinking of overstaying your trip for her and… and I don’t want to see you die… I can’t… last night was too close. If you stay here, you’ll be melted and destroyed by this world. You have to come back. We’ll figure something out, and it’ll work out. I’m sure of it. Please…please…"
Poor Chika saved her voice from falling into scrambling, stuttering panic, but she still rushed with terror and urgency. When she came to the end, exhausted again with the dregs of pleading left, Misaki gently caressed her cheek and pressed their foreheads together.
"All right. Sorry to scare you. We will figure something out. There are a lot of things inside my head, and most of them don’t make sense, but I’m so glad to have you right here." Misaki knew that she should’ve pressed with the horrors beneath the wristband. But she had a hunch that whatever was watching through Chika would’ve threatened her even more if it knew. Keep that card close to her chest for now, she told herself.
Chika looked instantly relieved to hear that from her. And she was eager to put all the stress behind both of them and take the longest and most luxurious dip into the sulfur waters until every "crack" of their bodies persisted in smelling like hot rotten eggs for days. Misaki lightly giggled at that prospect. They grabbed everything they would need for the hot spring, but Chika soon floated the prospect of checking out a couple of the Star Trek episodes together as they cooled down afterwards. She qualified that if she wanted to save ones she hadn’t seen for alone time with Yuka, then they could just do a little rewatching and riffing. Whatever worked.
Misaki clenched her jaw but tried not to let her tension show. She mentioned that Bianka found the show through some website and then transferred it to Yuka’s phone, which she then streamed to the TV. Chika cheerfully asked if Yuka had her phone with her or left it in the suite. Without skipping a beat, Misaki assured her that it was there in the room; why not just pick it up? Yuka wouldn’t mind.
As soon as Chika started walking away, Misaki dug her nails into the scratch she received yesterday from the chopsticks. There were probably better options, but she worked quickly to rip open the scab and get the blood flowing again. Really jamming her finger into it was not pleasant, but she needed enough. Using her other hand, she shot a text message to Yuka explaining recent developments. It didn’t take long before she was able to get away from Naoko and join Misaki at her side. They waited beside the door to their suite and listened carefully as notes of frustration and the sounds of tossed objects filtered through.
They slammed open the door and rushed through. Chika had the cabinet open and was tearing through the layers covering and confining the wristband.
With a smirk, Yuka quickly commented, while holding up her phone, "Looking for this?" Chika leveled her head and narrowed her eyes like she was a bull in human form, ready to rush them. She hissed and fumed, and her fingers turned into fists. Misaki saw that a single nail on each hand was stretching upward, beckoning to her face. She couldn’t let that continue.
They swarmed her little sister and swung her to the tatami floor. Yuka did her best to apply weight and restraint as Chika turned angry, spitting, and feral. Squeezing her hand, she dripped down on the wristband and tried to get her blood as close to the seam as possible. The band appeared to be fighting between instructions not to attack Misaki‘s flesh and recoiling from her blood. Wedging the nearest set of already stained chopsticks from last night underneath managed to get some leverage as the band started furiously flapping as though it were a bat.
Desperately trying to throw them off, Chika flailed to keep the wristband attached to her skin. But the two of them, working together, managed to pry it loose. The wristband sailed through the air like a flung paperback book before tumbling over and coming to rest on the tatami.
“Big sis? What happened? Why am I back here?” Chika stopped fighting as soon as the band left her flash and immediately sank to the floor. She brought her hands up to her face, out of reflexive protection from everyone so close rather than as a threat. She had no idea what was going on and could only recall the key points, ranging from the heartbreaking scare last night to collapsing with exhaustion, then being exhausted before breakfast, hearing Misaki’s wedding confession, and giving her blessing. Yuka wore a fresh coat of red blush as she learned what that meant.
Misaki knew that even attempting to explain the overall situation wasn’t going to be easy, but she was just relieved to see her best friend’s true face unclouded. However, they would still have to deal with Namiko before this wretched, slimy, deceptive force turned her against them too.