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Mumei wonders about personal space.
She doesn’t get startled easily. If something abrupt happens she doesn’t jump at it. It’d have to be absurd or right in her face. She doesn’t get scared. She laughs, delighted and amused by something that got her heart racing.
Kronii uses time like a jumpscare. The time warden frowns at her when she calls it that. It only makes it funnier in Mumei’s head. Kronii will appear like a frame cut from reality. Mumei would find herself lounging on the couch and then out of the blue, Kronii has joined her. Immaculate, unsettled, and enjoying a cup of tea and a magazine like she’s been there from the very start.
“Oh, hello.” Mumei greets. It’s funny to her if she treats it like it’s normal.
Kronii glances at her from the corner of her eye, “Hello. How’s your morning?”
“Oh, it’s going, it’s a morning.” She pushes her foot against Kronii’s hip. “What were you doing?”
“I just got out of the shower,” Kronii says, which might be a lie because Mumei can never tell the difference between normal Kronii, sleep-deprived Kronii, and just had a really good shower Kronii. “I was actually thinking about watching TV.”
Mumei glances at the TV. It’s off. “What were you gonna watch?”
“I dunno.” The time warden isn’t making a move to grab the remote. She’s glancing down at Mumei’s feet with annoyance, “Will you quit that?”
Mumei pushes her foot against her hip again. Kronii’s face does that funny thing like she’s annoyed but amused.
“Mumei.”
“You can sit on the floor.” Mumei offers.
Kronii sputters, “Why would I sit on the floor? This couch is big enough for both of us, why are you hogging it?”
Mumei has a few words to say but she isn’t sure what they are. She opens her mouth and closes it. Anything clever is lost to her, lost to a beating heart that’s racing so fast it startles her.
She blurts, “It’s my couch.”
“It’s not.” Kronii drawls. She’s sighing like this whole conversation is a burden. “If you’re going to be difficult then I’ll just…” She’s cupping Mumei’s legs and bringing them up onto her lap. With a huff, she’s straightening out her magazine. Immaculate as ever, Mumei wonders.
“Now that I have your sweaty, stinky, smelly-”
“My feet are fine,” Mumei says. “You like it.”
Kronii shoots her a withering look, “No. No, I do not.” She pretends to be immersed in her magazine. Mumei hums. She’s deciding whether or not she wants to tease the time warden some more. The words are getting boxed up in her chest. The longer her legs rest in Kronii’s lap, the warmer she feels.
“Whatchya readin’?” Mumei asks lightly, conscious of the way her voice cracks.
Kronii murmurs under her breath, “Oh, you know, stuff.”
“What kinda stuff?”
“None of your beeswax.”
Mumei smiles bemusedly. She can see Kronii’s lips lift, just a little. It’s the pointless banter that makes her want more of something. She can’t quite figure out what it is.
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In those early days, she didn’t know what to make of the time warden. Kronii was quiet and withdrawn. She was a solemn shadow of the council. The first.
Mumei, as the last of the council, wondered about her. She’s new to this existence. New to touch and feelings and being. Sana is happy to engage in hugs. Her height allows her to scoop Mumei into her arms. Fauna likes to hug Mumei from behind, likes to drop her chin onto her head. It feels like a bubble, like she’s being protected. Bae likes to lean against her, usually dramatically or while laughing so hard she folds around a wheeze.
Kronii is independent. In a council of those who touch and feel, she crosses her arms and turns her head away. Mumei notices this. She approaches with curiosity.
Kronii stares at her coldly, “Mumei.”
“That’s my name,” Mumei confirms. She’d gotten that recently. It was a new thing to adjust to and remember. She likes it despite the difficulty.
“Did you want something?”
Mumei doesn’t know how to word this. She pops her lips and says, “Do you want a hug?”
Kronii blinks. “... A hug?”
“Yeah.” Mumei opens her arms. She’d seen Sana do it a lot, yeah, she looks huggable. She waits. Kronii is looking at her with bemusement.
“I don’t need a hug.”
“You don’t want one?” Mumei asks. “You don’t want to hug me?”
Kronii makes a face. Instead of hugging her, the time warden makes to leave. She’s walking by Mumei but it’s becoming obvious she’s ignoring her and… Kronii hesitates.
And gives Mumei a high five.
“Good luck, uh,” Kronii says awkwardly. “Rookie.”
Mumei stares after her as she leaves. There are two battling emotions in her chest. A strange fondness, a likeness for that awkward sincerity. She also would dearly like to take the clock off Kronii’s head and hit her in the shin.
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“Foul,” Gura says. “Hey, hey, stop cheating.”
Mumei glares at her from over her controller. The TV was saying she’s the winner but Gura was getting gamer situated on the floor, which just meant she was rolling up her sleeves. She was also a sore loser judging by the frown.
“Are you mad?” Mumei asks.
“There was totally lag. Ping. Whatever.” Gura is pressing buttons. The winning screen disappears and is replaced by a ready-up screen. “C’mon, let's go again. I know I can beat you.”
“You’re gonna lose,” Amelia says from the couch. She’d been snacking loudly on celery for the past few minutes. Gura, annoyed, backs up until she’s pressed against the couch, trapping Amelia’s legs there. “Hey, don’t take it out on me, what is this?”
“Back me up,” Gura says. Mumei thinks that's the funniest pun of the night.
Kronii doesn’t think so. From beside Amelia, the time warden groans, “Oh haha, very funny. Got your back, Gura.”
“Hey, Kronii, why don’t you get Mumei’s back?” Gura taunts.
“I’m good.”
Mumei can’t describe how that makes her disappointed. She stays rooted in her spot. She feels her back itch. She wants to do what Gura did and scoot back until she’s sitting against Kronii’s legs. She wonders what Kronii would do.
“Win for me, Mumei.” Kronii offers dryly.
Gura’s laughing, “Oh, Mumei, Kronii’s routing for you now.”
“Lucky me,” Mumei says. She can feel the eyes drilling into the back of her head as they start the next round.
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It’s raining.
Mumei has her hood up. She doesn’t feel bothered by the weather. She lurks underneath the porch awning. She can hear the rest of council chatting inside. The smell of dinner was nice, but it wouldn’t be eaten until Fauna got her hands on the sauce she needed. The sauce they’re out of. The sauce at the store, in the rain.
“You’re really gonna go get it?” Kronii’s voice drifts to her from the doorway.
Mumei looks over her shoulder. The time warden is leaning against the door with her arms crossed. Her expression is flat, but there’s a gleam of worry in her eyes.
Mumei smiles, “It smells delicious.”
“She can use a substitute. It’s not that big of a deal.” Kronii cautions.
“That’s not fun.” Mumei faces the rain once more. “Besides, I like the rain. It reminds me of you.”
She’s met with silence. She hears the door creak. It’s the only sign that Kronii has left her. Mumei will never understand why that makes her chest ache. Her heart trembles for something and she frustrates over why.
An umbrella opens over her head.
Mumei blinks with wide eyes up at it. Kronii appears at her side with a put upon sigh, like this was a burden, like she was being forced to. The time warden is valiantly not making eye contact with her.
“Let’s get this over with then.” Kronii grumbles. “I want to get back before the food gets cold.”
Why bother then? Mumei stares. She wants to pry the secrets from time itself. Kronii wouldn’t go out. It’s against what Mumei, what anyone would expect of her. She wishes someone were out here to call her out on this. She wishes someone else would notice these small nothings, these things that make her heart race.
They step out into the rain. The umbrella is a small space. It’s a space barely meant for one person let alone two. Their shoulders brush. Sometimes, their hands touch.
Mumei’s face feels warm. Kronii’s fingers feel like they’re playing the piano, a touch, a tap to her knuckles, a bump against her wrists. Every step is a new rhythm. In a shroud of rain-wrapped weather, Mumei feels like she’s flying.
Kronii’s fingers lace with hers. It’s a gentle thing but it’s there, it’s real. Her palm is against Kronii’s. They’re holdings hands. It’s not just a loose hold, it’s not one that usually is a means to guide her when she’s gotten lost.
When Kronii’s brushes her thumb over her knuckles, Mumei knows it's something entirely different.
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Sometimes when Kronii closes her eyes, she pretends she’s not conscious of her actions. Mumei doesn’t know if Kronii knows she knows. It’s not that it’s obvious either. It’s painfully subtle, in a way only Mumei has noticed, to her frustration.
Mumei’s spot is the couch. She has claimed this spot, this spot is hers for at least the next twenty minutes. She is utterly focused on the console in her hands. It’s a time-based puzzle game. A story game. She’s not good at puzzles, no, but she craves the mystery of it and she likes when the funny worm at the bottom of the screen shrieks every time she messes up.
And then, Kronii is there. The time warden is sitting down to claim the couch. In Mumei’s eyes, she could have rested her head on the armrest. There’s one whole side of the other couch for her to rest on. Instead, Kronii places her head next to Mumei. Her hair brushes Mumei’s thigh. Mumei messes up a puzzle.
“Are you going to sleep?” Mumei asks incredulously.
“Mmh.” Kronii hums. Her eyes are closed. She’s already made herself comfortable. “Don’t mind me.”
Mumei does mind. She loses another puzzle minding it.
“I might accidentally elbow you,” Mumei says.
“Oh.” Kronii huffs tiredly. “Whatever. I probably deserved it. I can take it. My body is built for it.”
Mumei giggles under her breath. She has that feeling in her chest again, the one that makes her want to fly. She tries to focus on the game. She’s happy, she realizes. She can’t stop smiling.
A few minutes pass. Without prompting, without fanfare, Kronii is lifting her head up and placing it on Mumei’s lap. Mumei freezes. The worm is screaming at her to solve the puzzle, what puzzle? The puzzle of Kronii, the time warden, the aloof concept who would turn down a hug? Even worse, the time warden is curling her fingers underneath Mumei’s thigh like she’s a pillow and not a person.
The touch is sending lightning through her bones.
Kronii? She wants to ask. She meshes her lips into a thin line. With shaky fingers, she works on the puzzle in front of her. Her mind is split in half. It’s desperately trying to keep it normal, this is normal, and the other half wants to- to-
To what?
Kronii’s hair is brushing her thighs. She can feel her breath on her knees. She can feel the way Kronii sighs, this gentle release of tension. Mumei feels it down to her stomach. She wants to-
To-
Slowly, she lowers one of her hands from the console. Slowly, she brings it down onto Kronii’s head. As she rests it there, fire at her fingertips, Kronii does not stir. She feels too still to be asleep. Mumei knows she’s not asleep. She’s holding her breath as she gently cards her fingers through navy blue hair.
And Kronii hums, a small purr in the air that rattles Mumei’s chest. She exhales in surprise. The time warden is melting under her hand. It’s a new experience. It’s trust, Mumei thinks, it’s everything that Kronii doesn’t offer freely.
But is she offering it freely? Mumei can’t dissect this. She doesn’t know how to. The worm is going to be screaming at her for a lifetime, she laments, because she can’t solve the puzzle currently dozing in her lap.
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It’s vacation time.
Mumei understands the concept of it. She knows that’s a thing that happens in the summer. That’s what Kiara does when she gets tired. She flies to the moon and takes selfies of herself flipping off the Earth. It’s like what Fauna does in the summer, where she blooms and thrives and sings.
Vacationing in winter was odd.
Bae sticks her tongue out at them from over her scarf, “Yall are just depressing, just depressing.”
Fauna is bundled up to her horns, “Bae, it’s like, negative fourteen. Why are we going camping?”
“Not camping!” Chaos shouts. Her ears twitch through her woolen hat. Mumei likes calling her their leader on a normal day, but it feels especially meaningful when Bae looks like a chew toy. “No, I said I rented a lodge, dammit, I value my sleep and I value it warm.”
“Ohhh. This is so exciting! I’ve never been camping before!” Sana is trotting up to the cabin without waiting for them. She has her arms out like she’s an airplane. Her mittens craft galaxies as she walks. It leaves sparkles behind that turn the snow purple. Mumei throws away the urge to crouch down and scoop some up for nefarious purposes. “Does it have a fireplace? Can we roast smores?”
“Wait, I wanted to be first!” Bae scrambles after her, her boots crunching loudly in the snow. Fauna follows them less enthusiastically.
Kronii sighs from beside Mumei. Mumei watches her in the corner of her eye. The time warden looks immaculate, the picture of fashion with a fancy button-up coat and a scarf folded neatly around her neck. Mumei feels undressed in comparison. She’s only wearing her cloak.
“Better go inside.” Kronii grumbles. Her breath mists as she does. “Before they steal all the good beds.”
“Is there such a thing as good beds?” Mumei asks.
Yes, she learns, there is. It’s called having your own bed.
Mumei stares at the room before her. It’s a master bedroom, she knows. She’s learned, in the brief minutes that she’s toured through this place, that this cabin is spacious. It’s nice for the five of them. It’s a nice vacation place for whatever people do on vacations. She doesn’t know.
What she does know is that there are no beds left. There's only one, a big giant one reserved for couples. She feels Kronii beside her. She can’t find the nerve to look at her face.
“It’s not a big deal.” Kronii’s voice is even. “We’re all…adults here. Older than life itself, whatever. Not a big deal.”
“Yeah.” Mumei murmurs. “I trust you.”
Kronii doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t say anything at all even as they tuck in for the night. It’s an awkward affair of waiting on each other to use the bathroom. It’s lights out and grabbing the blankets at the same time. Mumei looks up. She meets Kronii’s eye.
They both look away.
“Um,” Kronii says. “You know what? I can sleep on the couch.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Mumei says. She doesn’t know why she’s so desperate to have Kronii stay. Her heart is guiding her on this road. “Unless you don’t want to share a bed with me. I don’t smell.”
Kronii makes a face at her. The tension is lifting off her shoulders as she says, “I’m not- it’s not because you smell. Why? Did you not shower?”
“Like I’d tell you,” Mumei says. She’s crawling into bed. She has to hide her smile as she hears Kronii sputter. She’s relieved when she feels the blankets lift and the bed dip as Kronii crawls her way into bed. With the lights out, with nothing between them, it’s completely silent.
Mumei feels it crawl along her skin. It’s a silence so awkward, so painfully loud in her chest. Her hands feel sweaty. She feels uncomfortable no matter where she places her feet. She fidgets with the blankets.
The silence goes on for an hour. Kronii’s side is quiet and Mumei happily assumes she’s gone to sleep. It’d do wonders for her nerves if she was. It was a relieving thought that she let circulate in her brain. Kronii is asleep, Kronii is asleep, Kronii is asleep-
Kronii’s hands are winding around her stomach. Mumei inhales sharply. Every bone in her body goes rigid as she feels a weight against her back. She feels Kronii’s breath touch her ear. It takes everything not to squeak. It’s taking everything not to burst into hysteric laughter.
Kronii whispers, “Goodnight Mumei.”
“Goodnight.” Mumei belts out impulsively. Her heart was still guiding her, too fast, too fast, “Love you.”
There’s a surprised beat between them. A helpless, shy laugh in her ear, “Okay. Love you too?”
“Uh, yeah.” Mumei whispers. “Right back at ya’, rookie.”
That gets a genuine laugh from Kronii. She’s trying to be quiet by muffling it into Mumei’s hair. It’s a nice feeling. Mumei feels herself smile. She likes being held by Kronii. The feeling of her fingers running thoughtless little circles has butterflies blooming in her tummy. She feels like a pampered cat. Free tummy rubs, she thinks and tries not to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Kronii whispers in her ear.
Mumei snorts, “Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” Doubtfully.
“You just make me smile.” Lovingly.
Kronii exhales. There’s exasperation, but something else, something that has Kronii tucking closer to her. There’s more confidence in the way she does it. They settle like that, a new puzzle, Mumei realizes. She isn’t sure how to solve it. She realizes she doesn’t have to, not when they’re two pieces that go so well together. Not when it’s like this.
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