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There are a lot of things Ema… let’s say, strongly dislikes.
On the bottom of her list are trivialities: mangoes that feel as if they’re ripe but aren’t, her current roommate who can’t be arsed to clean the dishes (but always leaves some chocolate cookies out for her), and the fact that her pencils keep breaking whenever she’s balancing them between her fingers. The higher the spot on the list, the more… well, uncomfortable those things become to think about.
The fact that Lana isn’t calling her as frequently anymore, for example, or the reality that she might be failing her course on advanced forensic DNA typing. That subject isn’t even compulsory but for god’s sake, she had to choose something and why exactly are elective courses even needed to complete her degree when she also lacks the time to focus on the subjects that are actually mandatory and –
Anyway.
On top of her list are airports.
Not airports in general, but only very specific ones. At a first glance, this might not make any sense for anyone but Ema, so let’s break it down. For an airport to be at the top of Ema’s dislike list it needs to fulfil very detailed requirements:
1) The airport is located anywhere in Europe. Or in the States. Actually, it could also be located anywhere in Asia or Africa if Ema really thinks about it. In any case, it must be in a place where Ema is also physically present.
2) It must coincide with Ema’s study-induced breakdowns. Well, must is a strong word. Rather, she’s somehow always at an airport when she’s on the brink of falling to pieces. She likes to think that it’s accidental, but maybe there’s some kind of reason behind it that she doesn’t have the energy to think about, so it’s kind of… still accidental, but also required to make the list.
3) There needs to be a person next to her with a too-broad grin and too energetic movements. Usually, it’s her girlfriend. Sometimes, it’s one of her fellow students who drove her and her girlfriend to the airport. Or her roommate, whom she convinced to accompany them so that her girlfriend doesn’t have to pay for the train fare because her roommate has a superior local transport ticket that allows for one person to join the ride for free.
Okay, yeah, maybe it’s only the last requirement that truly matters, if Ema’s being honest. That part about her girlfriend specifically, if she’s really honest about it.
Her girlfriend, Kay Faraday. Who is currently sitting next to her on uncomfortable airport seats, grinning even though it has just been announced that her flight has been delayed by about two hours.
“Well! Guess there’s nothing to be done about that,” she sing-songs, stretching herself enthusiastically.
Ema wants to scream.
Don’t get her wrong. She doesn’t want to scream because Kay’s flight has been delayed or because Kay’s in a good mood or because they’re sitting next to each other pressed together in the murky and bad-smelling airport terminal. (There are only very few instances where she wants to scream when Kay’s involved, and those are usually the good kind.)
No, she wants to scream because she is a bundle of nerves and adrenaline, fuelled by an upcoming essay deadline and an exam period starting in a few days. She also still needs to find a mandatory six-month long internship somewhere, preferably at some laboratory she doesn’t have to move countries for.
And then, in the middle of all this, there’s also Kay’s departure.
There’s always Kay’s departure.
She loves Kay. Scientifically speaking, it’s an evidence-based fact. She has taken to gathering notes about her reactions over the years, just as an experiment for herself. Most prominent are, of course, physical reactions such as: her elevated heart rate whenever she gets a message or an unexpected phone call, paired with slightly sweaty hands when she’s feeling nervous around Kay. There’s also the way her legs turn mushy any time Kay does some simple thing like smile at her - that open and wide smile that takes her breath away, because she wants Kay to keep smiling at her like that forever.
But, as always with evidence-based results, there are two perspectives.
Quantity-wise, her reactions haven’t changed much. She still turns into a wobbly mess when Kay looks at her just the right way, and she also has to wipe her own stupid grin off her face sometimes after a particularly sentimental conversation.
On the other hand, looking at it quality-wise, well. Ema considers the results more mixed, in a sense. Whenever she imagines her relationship in terms of a mathematical graph, she sees an eternally long cosine function. That is to say, there are always highs and lows; continuous change over time.
The highs: Kay’s visits. Her messages. Hearing her voice, seeing her sparkling eyes over video calls.
The lows: Kay not being able to kiss her. To hold her, to love her in a way that requires physical proximity. The fact that whenever she’s here , with Ema, in her small room in a flat that doesn’t have functional heating in the middle of winter, she inevitably has to leave again, always sooner rather than later.
Ema never knew that she could be someone who puts so much effort into a long-distance relationship. Then again, belief in the ones she’s close to has always been a defining part of her, even if she feels like university is doing everything to slowly bleed her dry of hope.
Figuratively, of course.
(Although, she did feel a kind of bizarre kinship with the corpse she had to dissect a few weeks ago, but that’s probably unrelated.)
Anyway. There’s the very distinct feeling of a finger jabbing into her ribs.
“Ema! Emmy, come on.” Kay starts to prod not just her ribs but also her shoulder. “Stop wallowing in misery only because my flight’s delayed! Are you that eager to see me off and return to your life of fingerprints and, uh… putrefaction I guess?”
“Body decomposition,” Ema corrects distractedly before the words catch up with her. “I mean, of course I’m not just waiting for you to leave! It’s just –” She sighs. “I just wish you could…”
“Stay?” Kay offers, grinning. “Yeah, me too. But you know how it is with college. And life in general.”
“Yeah. You know I do.”
They remain quiet for a few seconds, each contemplating the paradox of being in your twenties, the prime of your life as some people might call it, only to have to deal with what young adult life generally throws at you paired with whatever emotional repercussions they’re still stuck with from their teenage years.
“Right!” Ema can only watch as Kay energetically gets up from her uncomfortable airport seat to be able to properly face her. She presses her palms firmly together, nearly knocking her elbow into the person next to them. Kay doesn’t seem to care when they scowl and turn away in indignation.
Ema can’t help but smile slightly.
“This –” Kay points at Ema, her finger waggling in a flawless imitation of Prosecutor Edgeworth, “– just won’t do.”
“Excuse me?” Ema inquires, a bit irritated now. She would like to ponder her current predicament in peace, thank you very much.
Kay sighs dramatically, one hand pressed to her cheek now. “I’m leaving in a few hours and you’re miserable. I mean, I am too, but that doesn’t mean we can’t see the bright side of this situation.”
“Alright then, humour me.” Ema leans back into her chair, crossing her arms. “What’s so good about your departure and me having to go back home alone to my shared flat which, as you know, doesn’t even have proper heating, only to look at my desk knowing that I need to keep studying for an exam that I will probably fail anyway?”
“The fact that you can always think about me!” Kay grins mischievously. “Me, your amazing and absolutely fantastic girlfriend! I’m so remarkable that you could say I’m even worth stealing.”
She claps her hands, making such an adorable, expectant expression that Ema can’t help but give her a fond look. Kay’s right. She does have an awesome girlfriend to think about.
She smiles back at her. “Do you think I could… steal you away?”
Kay’s eyes light up. “Be my guest!”
She grabs Ema’s hands, dragging her to her feet without letting go of them. Then, she carefully puts one of her hands on Ema’s cheek, Ema’s own hand on top of it.
“Look, I know that –” She gestures around the buzzing airport lobby – people running around, trying to catch their flight; others, waiting, everyone on the move, frowning, laughing, a steady pace of coming and going. “– that this here, this is not… ideal. Not in any way. And I do not just mean that my flight’s delayed. But…” Kay slowly exhales, eyes fixed on Ema. “Would you close your eyes for a second? For me.”
And Ema does. She lets the darkness wash over her, letting her only remaining connection to the outside world be Kay’s hand on her cheek.
She feels the movement of a body; Kay slowly leaning in to put her lips to Ema’s ear.
“Imagine,” she whispers, making Ema shudder, “Imagine just not being here.”
Ema rolls her eyes, fully aware that Kay can’t see it.
“Okay then,” she quips, resisting the urge to open her eyes, “where am I? You know that theories and thought experiments are like, kind of my thing but –”
A finger on her lips stops her, accompanied by a slight chuckle.
“Ema. Just listen, alright?”
Ema represses a sigh and nods.
“Okay,” Kay continues, still in a low voice, “you’re not here. Instead, you’re in the middle of a street. And I don’t just mean any street but somewhere special .” Ema notices how Kay leans back and inhales, purposefully building up excitement. “I mean, of course, the cherry blossom street! They’re blooming all around you and I’m there too, trying to catch as many of them as I can because I told you that I have really good reflexes. But more people are coming and it’s starting to feel crowded, so we decide to take the train to the next city.”
Ema takes a deep breath and suddenly she can feel it. She can feel the sun on her skin, already hot even though it’s only the beginning of spring. The noises of the stressed, anxious airport crowd around her ebb away, and are replaced by the sounds of people around them laughing; she and Kay giggling with them. Images of Ema playing the tour guide for Kay, showing her hidden corners and cute cafés where the coffee is served with heart-shaped cinnamon on top of the milk foam and a wink from the waitress.
But with Kay around her, there’s always this touch of uncanniness, like being caught in a memory that’s too good to be true.
Ema sighs. Opens her eyes, to see Kay shaking her head at her.
“Nope! That didn’t work.”
Ema shrugs. It’s really not that it was a bad memory because there aren’t any bad memories with Kay. It’s just, you know. The circumstances.
Kay claps her hands together again.
“Okay, let’s try this one more time! Maybe we need something that’s farther away. Please close your eyes.”
And of course, Ema follows her request. Kay’s voice becomes low again,
“This time, we’re on vacation. Well for me it’s a vacation in the middle of a vacation. A double vacation.”
Ema grins slightly.
“Anyway, we’re on vacation. We took the train to Paris but just imagine that this time it wasn’t delayed by an hour. I know that’s difficult to believe but I think it’s important for keeping the fantasy alive.”
Kay pauses for a second. Ema nods accordingly.
“So yeah, Paris. It’s afternoon and we’re strolling through the Champ de Mars . The weather is… fine , for France at least. It’s not raining, but it’s a bit cloudy. We’re sitting next to the basin that’s in the middle of the park and I’m having the greatest idea.”
The memory vividly comes back to Ema and she joins in, eyes still closed.
“I notice how you’re looking at the water. My Kay-has-a-dumb-idea sense starts tingling.”
Kay chuckles. “A very necessary sense to have, of course.”
“And before I can say anything you jump over the fence and start running towards the fountain. I don’t even try stopping you.”
“Good call! Because then I hear a crow cawing and I have to see it so I turn around, lose my footing –”
“– and fall directly into the water. Yeah, I remember.”
The image of Kay, soaking wet in the middle of a park at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, sniffling and coughing while grinning and holding up a pretty flower, is crystal clear in her mind. She can feel the exasperation paired with the sheer fondness she’d felt at that moment. Not everyone would run into a restricted area only because they saw a pretty flower floating on top of a fountain, and really wanted to gift it to their partner.
“We had to go and change after that, even if you insisted that you were fine with walking soaking wet through Paris,” Ema recounts and opens her eyes. She eyes Kay critically. “I remember that you still got a cold afterwards. After you returned to your Interpol training, I was scared for two whole weeks that I’d get a call and be yelled at by Prosecutor von Karma.”
“I didn’t tell her that I fell into a fountain while in Paris. Obviously,” Kay adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “She would’ve forbidden me to ever take a vacation again. Not that I would’ve followed her order, of course.”
Of course. Ema smiles.
“That’s not as bad as what you did in London, though.”
Kay’s face falls for a second. Then, she starts grinning angelically.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“No? Miss I can effortlessly climb up every single surface?”
“Look! It’s not my fault that it was late and the gallery was already closed. I had to get on top of the building, so I did.”
“You nearly got us arrested.”
“Oh, as if that’s relevant somehow.”
“Isn’t it always with you?”
“Maybe! But you love it!”
They laugh. Ema’s memories of London feel like a breeze on her skin and the chilliness of late-night walks next to the river Thames, the city lights sparkling against the backdrop of the night sky. And Kay’s hand in hers, solid and warm.
(There were also the night calls to various Interpol agents and one very confused Mr Edgeworth to keep Kay from getting arrested. But that’s an occasional hazard Ema is happily willing to take up with, as long as she gets her crow-girl safe and sound in return.)
Kay’s looking at her expectantly. “We should take a photo together.”
“Now?” Ema looks around. It’s still the same dingy airport hall, with the same anxious people and this air of anticipation for whatever comes next. She sees no real reason for taking a photo here, if she’s being honest.
“Yeah! I know we usually take them when we’re like, somewhere special. Paris, for example, or London. But I think this here should be special for us too.”
“I really wouldn’t call it special,” Ema counters. “It’s just an airport. We’ve seen many of those.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Kay waves her off. “But! Isn’t this also some kind of a special memory? I may be leaving but it’s never the end of something. Because when I’m home, I’ll call you and you’ll tell me about your day and that really interesting genome you have to sequence for your studies and then I’ll tell you about my day and all the sneaking I did. Me leaving is just another stop on our path to become the best couple ever. ”
And isn’t that the truth? Ema might not know where her own road leads to; if she’s going to fail her exam, if her flatmate will move out, if her sister will call her back in a few weeks or in a few months. But she’s never alone because Kay’s with her, always, every step of the way. And she’s not just only one phone call away, but she’s also present in her mind; memories of their adventures, their laughter mixed with stolen kisses and even sweeter touches.
Photos of them, some pinned on the corkboard above Ema’s desk and some safely tucked into her wallet, capturing their happiness as best as they’re able to.
They might soon be separated, living their respective lives in different countries and sometimes even different continents. But what experience has shown her – what Kay has shown her – is, that they’re never truly apart. They’ll always find their way back to each other somehow.
Ema exhales slowly, trying to deal with the emotions that are welling up in her.
“We already are,” she says weakly.
“What?” Kay looks at her, concerned.
“We already are the best couple ever.”
“Oh, Emmy.”
Kay opens her arms and throws them around Ema, squeezing her tightly.
“No matter what happens, I promise I’ll be there for you, always. Just say the word. I’ll even fight Prosecutor von Karma to get to you immediately, that’s how much I love you.”
Ema can’t help but laugh.
“Same for me,” she says, her voice muffled by Kay’s shoulder. “I don’t care if I fail my classes or miss an internship or whatever. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
She frees herself out of Kay’s grip to lean back and look at her.
“I love you, my crow-girl.”
And Kay only grins at her, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Ema’s lips.
“And I love you too.”