Archive of Our Own

“The diagnostics have come out to be normal, just as expected,” Nika tells her, pointing at the charts on the tablet. 

The background noises of the lifts, of the maintenance Haro’s, and of the idle conversations blur away, but Miorine is intent on analyzing the numbers. “Hm,” she eventually nods though, pleased with the results. “That’s good. Truth be told, I was expecting that there would be some damage, seeing how rough the duel got.”

“The Aerial? Damaged?” Nika breaks into a soft chuckle. “No way. Suletta treats it like family.”

Miorine can’t hold back her smile. “She’s such a dummy.”

Nika, ever so observant, answers with a simple hum.

And, realizing how unnecessarily affectionate she made that sound, Miorine’s head spins to her, platinum hair flinging with her sudden movement. “I mean, um—”

But then the door to the hangar opens up. Steam pumps from the hydraulics, and the Aerial, barely scratched, comes in—the heavy sound of its footsteps echoing in the chamber. 

“Good work, Suletta!” Says a voice, probably Nuno or Ojelo, Miorine isn’t sure. They’re down there, guiding the machine towards its docking bay. 

Effortlessly, the pilot backs up until it is securely loaded against the wall. A series of safety bars lock the suit in place. Nika presses a few buttons on the tablet here and there, and the boys below do some final checks. 

“All good!” Says another voice. Nuno or Ojelo again.

“Alright, Suletta. You’re free to come out,” Nika speaks into the comm. 

“Got it!” Comes the natural answer. 

The cockpit opens up, the seat lifts, and the pilot, donning that handsome white suit, launches herself out. Her beaming smile is evident even through that anti-glare visor. 

“Ms. Miorine!” She calls out right as she removes her helmet.

(A bit too enthusiastically, mind you)

Waving with glee and running towards her like a child chasing after an ice-cream truck. Or, at least, that’s how Miorine imagines a child would react if she saw an ice-cream truck. She’s never experienced it herself. 

“... I’m here too, y’know?” comes a soft little mumble from Nika.

Miorine means to drop her smile and grimace. N-not at Suletta, but at Nika. Clearly, this engineer is in over her head. The audacity of her to be making fun of the CEO! Just—just look at her! She’s doing this cheeky little grin now and… and!

“I won!” 

Her need to internally scold Nika (or, like, to freaking fire her because she most definitely can do that!) is dropped the moment she sees Suletta’s smile. Her and her pearly-white, perfect teeth and all. Silly-looking eyebrows, yeah, but that’s part of her appeal, Miorine thinks. 

Anyway.

… what?

“I noticed.” She says, nonchalant. But like Suletta, she is smiling. “Good work.”

Her groom scratches her cheek nervously, blushing a little as well. She does that when she is praised. Very much like a child. And Miorine doesn’t mind that one bit. It’s cute, if she has to define it to be something. Though, to be fair, there isn’t any other positive word to describe Suletta. The girl is clumsy, naive, too quick to trust people, and can easily be taken advantage of. Maybe that’s why she has this brimming desire to protect her? Which is ironic in its own right, because Suletta is likewise protecting her from unwanted suitors. 

What a weird relationship.

“So…”

Ugh. Miorine fights the urge to roll her eyes. She just turns to the voice—to Nika.

Who is clearly indulging herself in this power-trip, isn’t she?! S-she’s still wearing that stupid grin! 

“... how are you two going to celebrate tonight?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows now. “A dinner… or a night in, perhaps?”

“D-d-dinner!” Suletta’s ears perk up. “Ooh! Ms. Miorine, can we have that tonkotsu instant ramen you let me try last time? I–I really liked it!”

Nika’s expression falls. Like, literally. Even her jaw drops. She stares at Miorine, as if she’s committed some kind of cardinal sin—as if feeding her groom instant ramen is illegal and, oh, okay, is this a freaking challenge?!

“We are not having instant ramen, Suletta,” Miorine tells the girl, but she is looking at Nika. 

It’s a face-off.

“W-we’re not?”

Arms crossed, Miorine continues to glare at the engineer. Though, the engineer in question is just staring back innocently—lashes batting and all.

“No,” she answers easily. “I will take you out. The sector surprisingly has some good restaurants with imported ingredients from earth. Organic and everything. It’s the reason the school cafeteria has decent food, if you think about it.”

“Ooh!” Suletta says, definitely excited. 

“So let’s go,” she grabs the taller girl by the wrist, dragging her down the ramp, which makes them inevitably pass by the Aerial, whose cockpit is still opened up. 

“Um…!” Suletta tries to turn back to Nika as she’s being pulled (forcefully) with Miorine, “I-I’ll leave the tuning up to you, Ms. Nika!” And then she tries to project her voice downwards at the rest of the Earth House, “And thank you everyone for today!” 

Miorine could roll her eyes to how nice everyone sounds. An idle glance at the Gundam later, she notes that a subtle green light is flashing from within the cockpit. It’s almost rhythmic, or perhaps like a morse code? It’s in sync with the way everyone else is responding with their—

“No problem. Have fun tonight, Suletta!” 

Hm. How weird.

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“Erm…”

Arms crossed, fingers tapping impatiently on her bicep, Miorine huffs. “Are you done yet?!”

Suletta squeaks, “S-sorry!” and hides behind the thick encyclopedia of a menu. “I-I-I just don’t know what to order. E-everything is written in such a fancy italic font, I can hardly understand. Like, w-what’s a… um, a terrine? What does it mean to be cooked ‘soos-vyde’?”

“Sous vide,” Miorine corrects with a sigh. Not much can be expected from a Mercurian-country-bumpkin, she supposes. Then again, to be fair, it’s not like a lot of Spacians have had earth food anyway, so she can’t blame the girl entirely. “I’ll just order us a set menu, okay? A typical three-course meal.”

Suletta blinks, but quickly complies without question. 

Miorine beckons for the waiter, dressed all fancy in a black suit, tells him that they will have the restaurant’s signature steak dinner—medium rare for the both of them. He gives her a polite nod and is off to deal with her order. 

The loss of his presence makes the silence between them all the more evident. Makes it deafening. It’s probably because of the way Miorine’s sitting, isn’t it? All demanding and impatient and all. From her perspective, Suletta looks… somewhat uncomfortable? Like, she’s all tense. Shoulders scrunched up to her ears and she doesn’t even have the courage to look up. Once in a while, she’ll catch her gaze, but Suletta will just squeak and, well, look back down.

It’s frustrating.

“Something bothering you?” Miorine asks, doing her best to hold back on that annoyed tone that naturally comes with the way she speaks.  

Suletta jumps. “I—” gulps. “I-I’m sorry.” She begins quietly. “You wanted to take me out and I… I’m just embarrassing you.”

A little pain—like a sting—throbs in her chest.

“Y-you don’t have to eat with me if you don’t want to, Ms. Miorine.” Suletta goes on. “I would be just as happy to eat alone! Or with the Earth House, i-if they would have me.”

“No,” she says before she can stop herself.

And she realizes she doesn’t know what she wants to say. 

In a brief, hesitant move, she glances across the table.

Sees a hopeful Suletta.

Ahh—her heart.

“Eat with me,” Miorine tells her, “Whenever you win a duel. I want you to eat with me.”

…

Well.

I-is that a blush she feels creeping up her neck? Why does it suddenly feel so warm in here? And w-what’s with that sudden demand!? It’s so… so demanding and whiny and princessy and, ugh, why is she playing into the stereotype that the entire school has given her?!

“Okay.”

Surprised, Miorine raises her head. She looks over, only to find Suletta smiling so, so softly at her, cheeks pink and gentle and cute . 

Oh god, her heart. Again. 

“I would love to. I-I don’t mind it if it’s instant ramen, Ms. Miorine,” Suletta says, and it’s such a tender voice. Like liquid silk—hypnotic, even. If given the right environment, she wants to have this voice whisper in her ear, put her to sleep. 

Put her at ease.

“... As long as it’s with you,” the girl goes on, “I think I’ll be okay with that.”

She gives it a moment. Takes in the ambience of the lighting that surrounds them, listens to the white noises of the quiet restaurant. She looks into the gleam in Suletta’s eyes, finds flecks of silver and gold, and she stares at her thin, pink lips. Miorine finds enjoyment in seeing how they are arched upwards; how, even as she looks on for what seems to be minutes, time has frozen them in place. 

As though she is given a chance to do something as simple as appreciate. 

Then she, too, is able to relax a little. 

But they don’t say anything interesting for the rest of the dinner. Miorine has to teach Suletta some table etiquette—though it isn’t anything too challenging. Suletta has some knowledge in this aspect (with much credit to the myriad of manga and anime that she watches in the Aerial, according to her), what’s lacking is practice. Then there’s this whole ordeal with Suletta wanting to take a selfie of them and the food, how it’s one of the things on her to-do-list. Miorine complies (which, of course she does, despite acting all annoyed about it), and it pleases her to see Suletta’s reaction. A little cheering-squeal and then her subsequent struggle to find the right angle. 

Miorine begins to think that she’s really okay with most of the things that Suletta asks. 

“Careful, don’t drop your handbook into the food.” 

The girl does that nervous laughter before placing the device on the table, aside from the plates and stuff.

But then comes this problem with Miorine being unable to finish her eight-ounce ribeye. She complains that the soup and salad appetizer took up most of her stomach, and so she pushes her half-finished steak to Suletta. The lava cake dessert that comes in the end, however, she finishes in a few bites. 

To that, Suletta giggles.

“What?” Miorine raises a brow, still munching at the cake.

“N-nothing,” she grins. But then she pushes her untouched dessert over to Miorine. “I don’t think I can finish this. The steak was, erm, i-it was a lot.”

“You sure?” Miorine stares at it. They say you always have a second stomach for dessert, which is why she’s totally down to devour it, but obviously this doesn’t apply to Suletta. So, yeah. She feels kind of bad. 

“Mm-hmm,” But Suletta just nods in response, pushing the plate closer towards Miorine. “Plenty of food for me for tonight, so I’m okay without dessert.”

The answer isn’t at all satisfying, but Miorine can’t deny herself quality sweets. Chocolate is hard to get by in space. 

More so the reason Suletta should have some as well, she decides.

So, “Here,” she slices right into the cake—the centre oozes out a creamy chocolate sauce that bleeds all over the white plate. Miorine scoops a neat little bite with her fork, smears the sauce all over the cake and reaches across the table. “Have some.”

Suletta blinks. “Huh…?”

“Try a bit, at least. You probably never had real chocolate before.”

She considers for a second. Miorine can tell because she’s doing that thing where she’s fidgeting. Just swallowing that lump down her throat and her eyes shifting from one side to the other. “I-is it really okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, it’s just—” she clears her throat. “P-People are around and, um, they can see…?”

Yet again, Miorine rolls her eyes. “Does your Mercurian conservativeness prevent you from sharing food with friends?”

“No, but—” Suletta snaps her mouth shut. Her eyes widen a little, shocked. “Ms. Miorine, did you just—did you just say that we’re friends?”

She grunts under her breath.

“Y-you did! Does that mean I can finally call you Mio-Mio—”

“Still rejected.”

“Wait, um—” Suletta stammers, clearly more nervous than ever. It’s like she’s trying to endeavour through some kind of test—something that means a great deal to her, “—o-okay, but… but we’re, um. We—we are friends, right?”

Another sigh. Miorine rests an elbow on the table, supporting her chin with her hand. “I wouldn’t be feeding random people cake, would I?”

Suletta considers for a second. “Oh.”

“Mmn.” Miorine groans. “ Now, ahh.” She instructs, hanging her jaw loose.

The girl doesn’t protest. More like, she isn’t allowed to, as the fork is thrust right to her face—literally. She’s cross-eyed, staring at the little piece of cake with concern before she, too, opens her mouth, “E-eh, ahh…”

Miorine guides the fork into her mouth.

And it’s.

Um.

Weird.

Granted, she really doesn’t go around feeding random people. She doesn’t go around feeding anyone. She doesn’t have anyone to do this to! Friends? No, none. Companions, perhaps? Well, maybe yeah, in the past—but every single genuine relationship that she’s made is ruined by her father. He controlled every bit of her actions. Whom she spoke with, whom she interacted with. Nothing could be done without his approval. 

What kind of relationship is Miorine left with, then?

The stupid Holder system, that’s what. 

But as of right now, as she watches this strange girl, biting onto the end of the fork, as she feels the slight vibrations that originate from the other end—undoubtedly from the touch of Suletta’s teeth and tongue, Miorine decides that, maybe, this is okay. And she convinces herself so successfully, because she goes on to stare at Suletta’s closed eyes, stare at an expression that can only be defined as being happy , Miorine feels a tingle run down her spine, shooting straight to her, er, c-centre. 

She squirms in her seat. Presses her thighs together a little.

When she pulls that fork away from Suletta’s mouth, when she sees the slight residue of chocolate cake on it, some part of her wants to just… just—

“Mmm.” 

The moan from Suletta makes her jump. Makes her blush, maybe.

“It’s so good,” the girl breathes, eyes still closed. Clearly, she’s savouring that decadent richness, flavourful and heavy with true, authentic chocolatey-goodness. “It’s sooo good, I-I have to tell Aerial later!”

A silly statement, yeah, not unusual from someone like Suletta. But more than that, this is quite a sight. It’s adorable. Really, really cute. But, ah-hem, Miorine begs herself to snap out of it! She clears her throat, slicing into the cake to scoop up another bite. “More?”

Suletta’s eyes light up. “May I really?”

She feigns a look of annoyance. Miorine reaches across the table, feeding the girl another bite. 

To which she gladly takes, munching at it with that same sweet, over-the-top expression. 

The tingle runs upwards. It shoots straight into her heart this time, and it coaxes a strange warmth out from within. A sensation she has never once felt—a sensation that makes her feel happy, makes her feel… hm, safe. Maybe, maybe not. It’s… new. Foreign. 

But not at all unwanted. 

So when she withdraws that fork, at the insistence of the Holder to finish the cake—

“No, please, I offered it to you, Ms. Miorine!”

—with that silly giggle, the sensation prolongs. 

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.

“Thank you for the meal, Ms. Miorine,” Suletta suddenly speaks up, her voice muffled against the breezy night air. “It was really, really good. I-I don’t think I’ve had anything so delicious before.”

Miorine has to strain herself to hear those words. She grips onto the back of the girl’s white jacket more tightly as the scooter passes by a little bump. “It’s the least I can do,” she says. “For all that you’ve done for me.”

Suletta does her little nervous giggle. “If I win more duels, will you take me out again?”

Holding onto that jacket isn’t giving her any stability. It doesn’t feel all that safe, either. So, Miorine resorts to leaning in, resting her head against the small of Suletta’s back. “It’s a fair trade, I guess. You defend me against idiots like Guel, and I treat you to dinner.”

“Well, I mean… you also help me in many things, Ms. Miorine.”

“Mmn.”

“Like, you stood up against those adults when they were going to expel me, founded GUND-ARM for me—”

“Hey,” she cuts in. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. I didn’t do it just for you.”

“R-right,” Suletta nods. “For Aerial as well.”

Miorine has a thousand different ways to argue against her claim, but she chooses to remain quiet. Sure, standing up to her father and proving everyone wrong about her being a princess is one of her objectives, but more than that, in the moment—when she was pressured to make that decision—Miorine knows that she put Suletta’s well being ahead of everything else. 

Not that anyone needs to know. This is a secret she’s willing to take to her grave.

They ride through the quiet, dimly-lit streets in a comfortable silence. Miorine takes the liberty to stare up at the night sky, at the visible Milky Way with its rivers of stars that are dyed in hues of purple and blue and pink—blended together like an artist’s painting palette, shades splashed haphazardly along the surface. It is by no means neat, nor does the image of it convey order, but Miorine muses that much like her life, it is colourful, filled with surprises. 

Especially now that she has a certain someone by her side. 

“Ms. Miorine?”

She relaxes, leaning more of her weight into Suletta. “Hmm?”

“We’re….” she clears her throat, “... here.”

Miorine snaps out of her trance, and, what have you, they’re right outside her building. 

It pisses her off that the first thing she feels is disappointment. And what’s with this nudging sensation in her chest? She ignores it. Ignores all the questions and gets off the scooter, straightening her uniform. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

Suletta offers her a smile, shaking her head. 

They stand there, facing each other. Suletta with a foot on the scooter, another parked on the ground, her hands holding onto the handles, and Miorine, standing along the steps that lead her into the lobby. The silence between them this time is uncomfortable, loud, and tension-filled. 

She can’t speak for Suletta, but if there is life in sound, then this silence is probably as annoying as the stupid security guys who work for her father. Always hovering around her like mosquitos, buzzing and buzzing and—

“I-I guess I’ll, um,” Suletta speaks up, sheepish and hesitant, “I’ll head back now.”

Miorine means to say something, “Right,” nononono, something else! Come on, don’t be an idiot and make this work! “Where—” she clears her throat, covering up any trace of nervousness in her voice, “—where are you staying tonight?”

There’s an evident gleam in Suletta’s eyes. Almost as though she’s happy that Miorine’s asked. She does this a lot, Miorine noticed. The slightest form of concern is enough to shift this girl’s mood for the better. It’s childish and everything, but she’s come to learn that this is one of Suletta’s charm points. 

A part that Miorine’s growing more fond of day by day. 

“I will, ah, head back to the Earth House, I-I think.”

That’s why she wants to move forward. “Will they let you in this late? It’s almost past curfew and there are classes tomorrow.”

“I’m sure Mr. Nuno or Mr. Ojelo will be,” Suletta laughs. “They’re always up playing these card games. They look so interesting and, well, um, I sometimes stay up and watch. I try my best to learn so that one day, I may be able to join them.”

She purses her lips, feigning yet another look of annoyance. “Don’t stay up too late. You have Tactical Stats early tomorrow.”

“It’s okay! I finished my homework.”

“Hm,” Miorine spins on her heels, turning to head inside. “Whatever. Let me know when you’re back.”

“Okay.” Suletta’s smile spreads across her flushed cheeks. “Goodnight, Ms. Miorine! Thank you again for today.”

She fights the urge to look back. She knows that if she does, she’ll catch Suletta waving at her, grinning bright like the summer sun—radiant and needlessly charming, and she won’t know how to respond. But as she enters the elevator, as the doors close, she takes that brief window to look. 

It fills her up with so much joy that Suletta is still standing there. Probably making sure that she would head back upstairs safely, being the big idiot that she is.

Miorine may have cracked a smile back at that stupid grin of hers. 

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One hour. Two hours. Three hours. 

One in the morning, and still, no response. Miorine has long finished up with her work for the company. She has long finished her work for school—something that she never had to worry much for, and still, no message from Suletta. 

She does this thing where she turns her device on and off, checking the screen every now and then, anticipating. She even goes to her and Suletta’s messaging window, seeing how the girl’s ‘last online’ status to be around eight—five hours ago, or when Suletta took that selfie.

So, she hasn’t touched her phone since then?

Miorine lies in bed, frustrated and restless not so much at the lack of response. She knows by now that no amount of her stubbornness can cover up the concern broiling in her chest. She huffs, tosses and turns, eyes glued intently at the chat window. 

Alright.

Fine.

Fine! 

‘You were supposed to message me three hours ago.’

Miorine is about to hit the ‘send’ button. Genuinely, she thinks this is good enough. But then comes the hesitation. I-is this too demanding? Or is it overly simple? God, she needs to find a tone that’s somewhere in between. So, maybe…

She erases the whole message. Tries again, ‘ Did you die or something?’ and is about to hit the ‘send’ button again, but… no, hold on. That’s too mean. 

Erase.

Miorine rolls to lie on her stomach. She reminds herself, need to find something in between. Something in between. Letters and words and phrases swirl in her brain; she can literally picture them floating in her head. The problem lies within the fact that she doesn’t know how to properly put them together. 

But still, she has to try, right? Okay, whatever—

‘Are you okay?’

Send.

A little animation of the mail being sent pops up on her screen, and Miorine flops back down onto the bed, face in the pillow. She’s tempted to toss her handbook to the side, but a bigger part of her wants an answer, and some voice in her brain is convincing enough to make her believe that if she holds onto the phone, that response will come sooner.

That’s so dumb.

When did she get reduced to such a clingy, annoying girlfr—

Bzz bzz

She gasps. Like, out loud. So loud it echoes in her room.

Miorine sits up so fast she thinks she may have heard a crack somewhere in her body. But her attention is on the little screen. It’s… huh. From an unknown address? She opens up the message. 

‘LP041. -15.22703; 119.07868.’

“What the…?” Miorine squints her eyes, immediately switching on her analyzing-mode to understand these… codes, are they? LP041. That’s Suletta’s student number, easy. But what are those numbers? Something to decipher? A message? Or, hold on.

She plugs them into the map application. 

Ah, just as she had thought—coordinates. 

The map zooms in, through the galaxies and the array of stars, fancy in its execution in disguise for its load time, until at last—it zeroes in on one of their buildings on campus. Isn’t that just…? Ugh. No freaking way . Miorine sits up, pushing the covers off herself and stumbles for something to wear—something to cover up her nightwear. She ends up grabbing a loose t-shirt from her closet and throws it on. Not even bothering to put on proper shoes (because she really only has heels), she runs out in her slippers and heads right down to the lobby. Spare scooters are stationed close to every building, so Miorine easily gets on one and heads straight for her destination. 

Afterhours automatically mean that the patrolling Haro’s will be out, scouting for the likes of herself breaking curfew. 

But Miorine does not intend to get caught. She hides behind a corner to study their patterns, analyzing the little instances where they would do a three-sixty, where they would pause to scan their surroundings. It looks random, but it’s not difficult to tell that there is a set interval. One that she can easily calculate, that is. And so, with ease, she cruises past them all, reaching her destination that is just a few seconds behind the ETA from the map application. 

From the outside, she sees the industrial lights glaring out the windows. An obnoxious, not-at-all soothing glow that she cannot imagine would make one feel comfortable sleeping under. Miorine clicks her tongue, heads for the side door that she knows is unlocked, and she enters the Earth House hangar. 

Her silent footsteps, aided by the indoor slippers that she will have to throw away afterwards, are nowhere as loud as those same, annoying industrial lights. The loud humming noises emitted through the heavy voltage drilling straight into her ear, only to be overwhelmed by the light pounding of her heartbeat. 

That, and as she huffs, taking these long, long flights of stairs up to a certain mobile suit’s opened cockpit, a soft, whispery voice starts to fill in. Not at all unappealing to the ears, in contrast to the humming of the lights.

“... hm? Oh, yes! The dessert! It was a chocolate cake. Real chocolate!”

Like an overexcited child that she always is, Miorine smiles at the sheer joy that’s embedded in how she speaks. 

“I wish you could try it too, Aerial.”

And how very silly of her to always be making conversation with a machine. It’s a bit weird at first, but Miorine has come to understand that this is perhaps Suletta’s only way to cope with her loneliness. Even for herself, she would be lying if she said she never spoke to her crops. A little comment of appreciation here and there, a little compliment on how well they’re growing—it all comes naturally. Perhaps it’s the same with Suletta and Aerial. 

“W-what do you mean?!”

But what fascinates her is the fact that Suletta is able to do it as if Aerial is speaking back.

“No—I mean, yes! I do like her. I like her a lot.”

Maybe that’s what happens to someone who grew up with no friends.

“S-she’s my first friend, after all.”

Miorine feels her chest clench a little at the thought.

“But I…” 

Her ears perk up.

“... ‘m just not sure she sees me the same way.”

She stills. Freezes.

“I mean, I’m just… just her shield, right?”

No, she wants to say, that’s not all. Miorine wants to say these things. She really does, but… but her legs won’t move. 

“Someday, I won’t be needed anymore. I-I knew that from the start, and I was okay with it. I shouldn’t be selfish and want anything from Ms. Miorine, but it’s just…” 

Miorine brings a hand to her chest. Presses at where it aches. 

“I dunno. I don’t really know what I’m feeling, but I… I don’t like it.”

Neither does she. But if there is one thing that Miorine’s learned from Suletta, it is the fact that if she doesn’t face the problem, if she runs away, she’ll never gain anything. 

Run away, gain one; move forward, gain two.

It’s stupid. Nonsensical. But she clings onto the words. Especially right now, as she takes in a deep breath, partly to steady herself—

“Y-you’re right. I’ll be okay as long as I don’t lose any duels. It’s a good thing I have you by my side, Aerial.” 

—but mostly to maintain a calm composure so that she can confront this girl, talk to her, make her understand—

“What are you doing?” Miorine asks, stepping into the opening of the cockpit. 

At the sound of her voice, Suletta’s head snaps right up. “M-M-Ms. Miorine…!”

Given any other situation, she would smile at that silly face. Jaws dropped in a slight tilt, eyes widened in hilarity, and just silly overall. But Miorine doesn’t want to turn this into a joke. She realizes that this insecurity Suletta carries is largely due to her actions. Calling her a shield, forcing her to do things without even asking, and just… sigh.

“I told you to message me when you’re back,” Miorine starts, voice quiet and, in her head, unbearably gentle. It’s not often she speaks to anyone like this.

“I…” And it seems like Suletta’s caught on. Just a little, she wavers, looking like she wants to cry.  “I’m sorry, Ms. Miorine. I-I wanted to, but I left my student handbook at the restaurant, and when I went back to get it, they were already closed. I thought… well, maybe I could go back to the Earth House to ask Ms. Nika or Ms. Chuchu to send you a message in my place, b-but then the doors were locked. I didn’t want to disturb them because it’s so late, s-so I went back to your building. When I arrived, I had the intention to come upstairs, but I wasn’t sure—”

“If I’d let you in, or that if I was asleep, et cetera, et cetera,” Miorine finishes for her.

Suletta nods. “My only option was to come to Aerial, b-because I have access to the hangar as the Holder.”

Miorine heaves a sigh. “Well, as far as excuses go, this one is quite legitimate,” she says. “It’s also very you.”

“M-me?”

“To be so clumsy,” she tells her with an eye-roll. “Nobody would believe that you’re the best pilot in Asticassia if you didn’t wear your uniform.”

“I’m… sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you.” Miorine grunts. “Just, ugh, whatever. Were you planning to sleep here for the night?”

“Um,” Suletta blinks, eyes rapidly moving from side to side as if searching for some acceptable answer, “Y-yes? I could wash up in the changeroom, and it’s not my first time sleeping in Aerial. I used to do it a lot when I was younger.” 

“I can’t imagine this to be comfortable,” she comments, eyeing the tiny space. Miorine’s sat in here once before, and to her recollection, it’s not at all like your average luxury ride. “The seats are hard and it smells like poor-quality synthetic leather.”

“No it doesn’t!” Suletta argues, pouting and suddenly defensive. “I… I make sure to clean everything every week!”

“That’s not the point,” Miorine groans. She is not getting the message, is she?! “I’m saying there are, er,” she chokes back her stutter, “b-better and more viable choices to sleep in. Like, I don’t know, a bed or something?”

“Well, the doors are locked over at the Earth House, and…”

Oh my god, this idiot!

“... and I’m really okay with sleeping here with Aerial—”

“You’d rather break your back in this stupid machine?” Miorine interrupts, knowing too late that her tone is unnecessarily rude.

Suletta gawks. Her mouth is hanging open, expression twisted in confusion, she puffs up her cheeks. “A-Aerial is not a stupid machine!”

“Uh-huh,” she huffs. “It doesn’t matter what you want to call it. All I’m saying is—”

Wait.

She can’t finish. The doors are closing, both the one she’s standing on and the roof of it. Miorine is literally going to get crushed if she doesn’t step in, and—

“Ms. Miorine!”

—she falls into Suletta’s arms, thankfully without pain. “What…”

But she can’t register what has happened, for Aerial has seemingly switched on—the walls around them turning into screens, showcasing a three-sixty-degree view of the mobile suit’s surroundings. The core activates, humming loudly with life. 

The Gundam is awake.

“Aerial!” Suletta snaps. And it’s weird, because this girl rarely raises her voice. “Aerial, what are you doing?!”

A slight rumble is its response. A whirring of the engines.

“What’s happening?” 

“I-I don’t know,” she reaches for the handles, puts her feet onto the pedals, punches something into the keyboard, but nothing. “Aerial seems to be acting on her own, and I… I can’t do anything!”

True to her words, the machine raises its hands, if you can call it that. From their perspective, everything is like virtual-reality. Miorine can see those hands, blackish-grey in colour, fingers wiggling. It’s like… it’s almost as if she is walking in the shoes of someone who has awakened after a long coma, testing their movements and such. But honestly, the hands are just whatever. What comes next is much scarier.

“Suletta!” 

It moves. Aerial’s left leg takes a step forward, its loud, crushing footstep slamming onto the concrete floor of the hangar. Then comes the right leg. Left leg. Right leg. Oh, hell, it’s fully walking on its own!

“Do something!” Miorine yells. 

“I’m trying, I’m…!” Suletta gives her an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Miorine, but I can’t—I can’t see!” 

She comprehends in an instant. Miorine is also smart enough to know that she needs to get out of the pilot’s line of sight. She positions herself in a way that’s akin to side-straddling, legs hanging off the seat. For balance, she wraps her arms around Suletta's neck but makes sure to not hinder her ability to control the mobile suit. It’s not at all a conventional way of sitting, but it gives Suletta room, and that right now is most important. 

“Thank you,” Suletta says, respectful even under these dire circumstances. She types something into the keyboard again, this time bringing up the inventory, the core drive, everything that she can probably think of, but to no avail. Miorine can see herself—override. The words appear on every single window Suletta opens. It even floods the screens overhead. Is this a glitch in the system? A malfunction?

“Has it been hacked?” she asks.

The pilot shakes her head. “No, I… Aerial’s never behaved like this before. She would assist me at times, but… but I would never lose control!” 

Still talking like the machine is sentient. Miorine will give her a beating afterwards, but there are more important matters at hand right now. The Gundam is attaching itself to the elevator, once again overriding all the codes to be granted access. Like, they can see the messages popping up on the screens! But more than that, the stupid Gundam didn’t select just any elevator. No, no, no. It has chosen one that takes them to the launching bay, not within the battlegrounds of Asticassia, but…

“Oh my god.”

Suletta gulps, mirroring the concern in Miorine’s words. 

The elevator moves fast; without their suits, the g-force is much more prominent. The air is thin and soon, no g-force can be felt. There is no G. No gravity! They have been brought beyond the levels that are accessible for students, now having reached the threshold of Front Sector 73—a location that should be heavily guarded by the Front Management. It is an area restricted to students, as no one is allowed to enter space without special permission. 

“Uh…”

Yeah, it’s heavily restricted, but the gates open. Aerial moves forward, with Suletta still desperately trying to work the controls—and a sign, large and glowing and obnoxiously in their faces:

CLEARANCE FOR SPACE ENTRY - GRANTED

“What?!” 

Followed by the blaring of alarms, of sirens spinning and dyeing the chamber in a vibrant red that is blinding to the eye.

“Suletta, we—we’re about to enter space!” 

“I-I-I know!” the girl says, pitch high and panicked and all things Suletta, “B-b-but I don’t know how to stop!” 

“You’re joking me!”

Then, through the flooding messages of ‘override’ that are still all over their screens, yet another window pops up. This time, it is the face of a man in a space suit—something that the two of them should also be wearing if they’re taking this tryst of theirs seriously. 

“LP041, LS001,” he starts, confused and concerned all the same, “What are you doing here? Who gave you permission for entry? And at this hour?!”

“W-w-we’re sorry! It’s not us, A-Aerial’s just—”

Miorine’s instincts kick in. She covers Suletta’s mouth with a hand, shutting her up. “Shh! You want them to take Aerial away again?!” She hisses. But then she quickly reverts back to her calm and collected composure, turning towards the screen. “Good evening, sir. We are running some quick tests for our newly-developed products. This is for a project that I have proposed with the Benerit Group. It is imperative that we have the results by tonight, so please, do not interfere.”

The man, undoubtedly confused and no-way-in-hell falling for such a lie, gives them a look. “I do not care what sorts of ‘tests’ you have, Ms. Rembran. So long as you are on campus, you need to abide by the rules. Now turn back.”

His window disappears. 

A moment of silence. And then, once more, Aerial moves—no, it’s not turning back as the man had instructed. It’s heading towards the freaking gates for space entry just as it had intended to do so earlier!

Miorine face-palms. 

Suletta’s teeth start to clatter in worry.

“Did you two not hear me the first time?!” The man’s voice blasts through their comms, this time without visuals because Aerial probably blocked him off or something. “What… how are you overriding the permission to open these gates?”

“S-should we explain?” Suletta whispers.

Miorine glares at her.

No time to argue. Literally, they don’t have the time. With the gates fully opened, Aerial launches without any warning whatsoever, flying out into the void of space. 

“Aerial…!” Suletta yells, doing her damndest to pull back on the thrusters, but again, to no avail. 

Miorine is meanwhile bracing herself, holding onto Suletta for her dear life. She’s more concerned about the fact that they don’t actually have any protective gear—she herself in her nightwear and a t-shirt, and well, at least Suletta is in her school uniform. She tries not to scream, tries not to freak out because Suletta is very much doing that for her—groaning and moaning and on the verge of tears. 

“Would you just calm down!” 

“I-I can’t!” Suletta cries. Actually cries. It’d be a hilarious sight if their situation wasn’t so serious. The girl is desperately pulling onto the handles, feet stepping onto the pedals. But again, Aerial is nonresponsive. What she as the pilot is attempting to do is utterly meaningless. “Oh, I’m so getting expelled!”

Miorine sucks in a breath, making this hissing noise. She reaches for Suletta’s cheeks, squishing them together. “Pull yourself together! You’re Asticassia’s ace pilot!” She says, “My groom!” 

Blinking, thick lashes batting in surprise, there is a moment of clarity. The bright aqua eyes that Miorine does not realize are this alluring sparkle like the stars that engulf them. 

This moment is interrupted, however, when yet another warning message appears on screen, this time indicating that there are approaching mobile suits from their rear. The camera zooms into the units, identifying them to be three Zoworts—standard machines manufactured by Peil Technologies. 

“T-they’re really mad, aren’t they?” Suletta starts. 

Miorine shrugs. “The long answer is, considering how we broke the rules even though they have warned us, and that we are most definitely going to face repercussions, I’m not going to let them get us. Not you or Aerial. But yeah, I’m quite certain that they are mad.”

“Oh,” Suletta says, somewhat touched. “Then… what’s the short answer?”

“They’re shooting at us.”

“Wha—”

A green beam flashes by, barely missing Aerial’s head. 

“It seems they are aiming for the visuals and thrusters,” Miorine states. She sounds nonchalant, but measure her blood pressure right now, and the results will probably be off the charts. “They plan to cripple Aerial so that they can capture us.”

“Cripple? They’re planning to hurt her?!”

“Not… technically?”

“No! That’s not happening!” Suletta sits straight. With one arm, she cradles Miorine by the shoulder, holding her close, keeping her stable. With her other hand, she grips onto one of the handles. “Aerial, stop playing around and give me control!”

In that instant, everything lights up. The GUN-BITs detach themselves, circling the mobile suit in a dance. They spiral around to form a bright, cerulean blue that encases them in a  globe, tiny white lights running along as in a stream—Miorine thinks that this is the heartbeat of a machine, visualized. 

“We’re not going to let them hurt you,” Suletta speaks. Her grip on Miorine tightens, fingers wrapping around her skinny arm. With a soft smile, Suletta now speaks directly to her, “And I’m not going to let them hurt Ms. Miorine.”

Her heart skips a beat. She feels a warmth rise up from her neck, spreading across her cheeks. 

“Hold onto me!” 

She does as she is told. Like before, she circles her arms around Suletta’s neck, leaning into her body to feel the warmth, the reassurance, the safety. 

Then, all of a sudden, Miorine remembers.

Back then, on day one, when Suletta stood up against Guel—when she legitimately won the title of the Holder, she was in the exact same position.

They were in the exact same position.

Confidence and the unbridled sense of determination that she never showcases outside of the cockpit, the unwavering courage that pushes her onwards to victory—Miorine is witnessing it all again, right now, right here. 

From her perspective, she can see a hyper-focused Suletta. Soft, gentle eyes that are usually shrouded in shyness are now sharp; the baby-face that Miorine has always found to be a bit too pinchable now tense—strong, beautiful jawlines curving, shaping out a formidable mobile suit pilot.

And then there are her lips.

Puffy and pouty at times, but now thinned and still, so seemingly soft.

Miorine is absorbed, completely distracted by this side of Suletta, that she doesn’t realize Aerial is performing somersaults, upside-down maneuvers, flips and such to avoid the incoming beams. Because even though she knows that the machine is moving forward, Suletta is the one flying—she’s the one dodging all the shots.

For that, she couldn’t be more proud.

“They really aren’t going to stop,” Suletta comments calmly, no longer freaking out like she was before. “But if we keep the shields up, we won’t last for long.”

Miorine tears her eyes away—yes, she has to tear them away—from Suletta, glancing at the displays. She finds the power percentage, noting that it’s depleting rapidly. “What do you plan to do?”

“I still can’t control Aerial properly—she won’t stop going forward,” she says. “I-I want to turn back and explain everything, but that would mean to risk losing her.”

The uncertainty is evident, but Suletta doesn’t lose her nerve. 

“Then go forward,” Miorine says.

“Sorry?”

“If we remain here, they will damage Aerial enough until it can no longer move. You don’t want that, I get it. So I’m suggesting we play into that ‘test’ lie I gave them earlier. We’ll go until we run out of power,” she pauses to eye the oxygen level, noting that it is stable—important, given how they’re not in their space suits. “When they eventually catch up, seeing how we are no longer moving, they’ll simply drag us back. No shooting required.”

“But… Ms. Miorine, we’ll still get in trouble.”

Miorine groans, staring her straight in the eye. “Do you not trust me?”

At those simple words, the reluctance falls. Uncertainty is replaced with a confidence that belongs only to Suletta, she smiles. “I do. I always will.”

Yes, there is trust. An unparalleled amount. It generates a strange warmth inside her chest—akin to the one she felt at the restaurant earlier. But more than that, it fills her with happiness, makes her feel proud of herself. 

“Good.” Miorine doesn’t break eye contact as she reaches for Suletta’s hand, the one that’s holding onto the handle. “There is no way a couple of Zoworts can catch up to Aerial if you go at full speed,” her grip becomes firm. “So go.”

Suletta’s smile spreads into a wide grin. She looks on ahead, the GUN-BITs that are surrounding them disperse, now reattaching to the suit at Aerial’s hips, on its back. They have effortlessly transformed into thrusters. Miorine takes the cue this time to hang on, sitting as upright as she can, for she knows what’s coming. 

“Yes!”

Suletta tilts the handles forward, steps hard onto the pedals, and the thrusters are at maximum. The g-force returns, both the pilot and the passenger inside Aerial are pushed backwards, and Miorine, having never once in her life felt such a thrill, bites her teeth as she buries her face in Suletta’s chest. 

“It’ll be okay, Ms. Miorine.” 

The tender voice that she hears, however, vibrates softly in her eardrums. It reaches a spot that calms her nerves, immediately soothing any remaining sense of fear. And soon, the confidence that surges from this girl prompts her to relax, coaxes her into opening her eyes. 

And when she does, she sees. 

The incredible speed in which Aerial is travelling at, bursting forward to blur her peripherals. It’s like going through a tunnel that transcends gravity, and space—the sparkling of stars stretching into lines of white, blue, crystalline lights. A time warp. 

In awe, Miorine can’t look away. She is enraptured, utterly hypnotized by the very situation, but more than that, for whatever reason, she is happy.

There is no other way to explain it.

Miorine is happy to be living in this moment. To be here, out of the bounds of Asticassia—her cage—as brief as it may last, because she is with someone she trusts, someone who trusts her back.

Eventually though, Suletta pulls back on the handles, lifting her feet off the pedals. The warp ceases, their displays returning to normal. Once again, they are surrounded by the vast expanse of space, the darkness of it all.

“I-I think this is far enough,” Suletta says. She pulls up the keyboard, types in something to bring up a display that indicates the general functionality of Aerial. “We should have about… forty-five minutes before we are out of power, and we have given ourselves at least one hour ahead of those Zoworts.”

“And life support?”

Suletta types in something again. “Five hours before we are out of oxygen.”

Miorine hums. “Meaning we really are going to rely on rescuers.” 

The reaction is an instant swallow. A loud gulp.

“Hey,” she grunts. “What did I say about trusting me?”

“I-I do!” Suletta stammers, “But… I’m just scared of what will happen after.”

“You let me worry about that,” Miorine crosses her arms, partly to maintain her signature, authoritative posture, but mostly to generate some warmth. This isn’t, as she had noted, a luxury ride. She understands most mobile suits are designed to priortize power over comfort; most of the quality-of-life features would therefore come together with the piloting suits, which usually are linked to the power source on the back of the seat. Right now, as it stands, Suletta does not have a suit. Simply put, to be able to breathe is a luxury in itself given their circumstances. 

“Ms. Miorine?” 

She looks up, sees Suletta being uneasy as she usually is. “What?”

“Um, I was just… a-are you, erm, cold?”

No use acting tough at this point. Miorine sighs, brings her knees close and hugs herself. “Take a guess,” she mumbles.

A pause. 

Then, Suletta does the unthinkable. She zips down the yellow tie, removing her jacket and drapes it over Miorine. 

“What are you—”

“This isn’t much but, I-I hope this can keep you warm,” she says with a sheepish smile.

Yet again, that burst of warmth in her heart. “W-what…” Miorine coughs, clearing away her stutter. “What about you?”

“I’m warm like this, Ms. Miorine. With you so close to me.”

How else do you react?! The immediate redness that rushes up her neck, tinting her cheeks in a familiar pinkness. Miorine instinctively buries herself in Suletta’s chest again, her head under the taller girl’s chin. “Idiot.” she mumbles again.

Suletta does that stupid laugh. “Eh-he-he.” It’s so stupid and silly and… well.

sigh

Why does she even bother anymore? Why does she bother hiding it? It’s contagious. Miorine can’t stop the tugging of her lips, can’t stop the way they arch upwards at the sound of it. 

“I’m sorry I worried you, Ms. Miorine,” Suletta goes on in a low voice. “Y-you must’ve been in a hurry looking for me, right? That—that’s why you’re still in your sleeping wear.”

Miorine is infinitely grateful that Suletta can’t see her face. Because the more this girl talks, the redder she feels she’s getting. Not exactly a flattering sight, considering how nobody’s ever seen her like this. It’s not like she hates it, though. It’s just awkward. A never-before-felt sort of embarrassment. And Miorine rarely gets embarrassed. 

“Yes, it’s your fault.” She ends up muttering.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Making me wait for your message like that.” Miorine snuggles closer, feeling the need, now more than ever, to hide.

Suletta stiffens. Hesitantly, she brings an arm in, just enough to wrap around Miorine’s shoulder. “I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t…” her voice muffles into Suletta’s orange tight suit, “... do that again.” 

“I won’t,” hugs her. “I’ll do my best.”

If by her ‘best’ she means to convey the safety that Miorine currently feels, then she thinks it’s enough. 

“But I’m still, um… I’m really happy, Ms. Miorine,” 

She quirks a brow.

“Th-that you are worried for—for someone like me.”

More warmth. More embarrassment. Again, not exactly a bad feeling, but it’s weird. Miorine pulls Suletta’s jacket closer to herself, wrapping herself tightly in it. “It couldn’t be helped. ‘Someone like you’ would get taken advantage of. What if Guel jumps out of the woods and proposes to you again? You know how easily you get swayed by romance and the idea of love.”

“I-I-I would reject Mr. Guel immediately!” Suletta defends. “You saw how I flew away when he did that!”

“Uh-huh,” Miorine pouts. 

“And it’s not like I’m in…in l-l-love with him!”

“Oh yeah? What about that Ice-Prince? If he popped out and said that he would want to take you out on that date he promised, would you have accepted?”

“I—” Suletta keeps quiet. Her breath stills; even her body freezes.

It takes Miorine aback. Like, a surge of concern explodes from her gut, as though afraid of the answer. The second she said that out loud, she regrets it. Because she isn’t sure she wants to hear it. She doesn’t know if she can take the truth, or what she assumes to be the truth. What if Suletta says yes? Elan broke her heart that day, everyone knows that, so it’s no surprise if Suletta is still emotional about it. Yet, somehow, the notion of this bothers her. The possibility of Suletta having another person in her mind—

“Sorry—”

“I don’t—”

They both stop, snapping their mouths shut. Miorine is the first to speak, being the more assertive one, “Go ahead.”

“No, I was just, ah… um.”

Well, of course it’s going to be like this. Miorine shakes her head, speaking up while she still has it in her, “I didn’t mean to bring that up, I’m sorry.” She confesses. “Truth is, I just… I say a lot of dumb things because I’ve never really had many people to talk to. I’m not exactly someone pleasant to be around with, as you may have noticed.”

“That’s not true,” Suletta quickly defends. “I like spending time with you, Ms. Miorine. At the greenhouse, when you help me with my homework, and even in the mornings when we walk to class together! I-I mean, that’s why I was really happy when you took me out for dinner tonight.” She smiles. “It’s the most fun I’ve ever had, and I… I imagine no other date from anybody can compare to that.”

Suletta’s expression softens. So kind and gentle and—

“Mr. Elan included.”

Oh. Oh boy.

Miorine’s totally blushing. More like, the blush has never disappeared. But now that Suletta is looking at her, unintentionally smug and cute and just… ugh! 

“A-are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Huh?”

“Because if you are, it, it’s not working.” She turns away.

“Not—wait, but, Ms. Miorine, you’re all red…” 

“Shut up.”

“Ms. Miorine—”

She grabs her cheeks, squishing them and forcefully turning her away. “Don’t look!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! M-Ms. Miorine, it hurts…!”

A mischievous grin sneaks in, but before Suletta can see, Miorine hides herself once again in the girl’s chest. This time, the warmth is much, much more prominent, throwing Suletta into an endless giggling fit, and Miorine herself is unable to wipe away her smile where she, too, cannot entirely quiet down her chuckling. 

From there, they easily fall into a comfortable silence. Nothing but the soft humming of Aerial’s thrusters, now travelling at a steady speed—not too fast, not too slow. They have long gone out of bounds of the guiding points automatically mapped by the GPS. Though, going blind does not exactly mean it’s the end of the world. It’ll just take some work recalibrating the route, but as of right now, being separated has its perks, as without their light pollution, the usual dark skies are lit up. Akin to, to Miorine’s knowledge, what they call aurora borealis on Earth. An endless flowing, cascading motion of aquamarine and pink—and then there is the distant sparkling of the stars that shine ever more brightly. 

Especially from that of the neighbouring galaxies. 

“I used to want to do this when I was a little girl.”

“Hmm?” Miorine’s gaze wanders outwards, following Suletta’s round eyes.

“Do you see? Over there,” Suletta points in a general direction. “The little purple-ish, white-centre disk-shaped thing.”

She has to squint. It’s really hard to tell stars apart when space is littered with billions of them. But then, on cue, a zoom-in display pops up.

“Oh,” Suletta says. “Thank you, Aerial!” 

Miorine blinks. It takes her a good second to remember, but she’s always been good at her studies. “The Andromeda Galaxy?”

“Yes!” The girl cheers, voice once again filled with enthusiasm. “I loved looking at it. I always wanted to fly off the grid and discover what’s inside, you know? L-like, maybe one day, I can make friends with whoever lives in it. Maybe… they also have flowers and plants that are pretty like the ones you grow. And goats like Tiko! Ooh, they might even have tomatoes! But I don’t think they’ll be anywhere as tasty as yours, Ms. Miorine.”

She breathes out in amusement. “Mmn. You can ask them in about four to five billion years. To my knowledge, the Milky Way will collide with it in that amount of time.”

“Oh…”

The dejected tone usually leaves Miorine unfazed, for that is how she is. Aloof and indifferent. But, perhaps overwhelmed in the moment, she feels the need to speak up, to not ruin the mood. It’s the least she can do, Miorine tells herself. 

“I’m more interested in that,” she speaks up, gesturing in another direction. 

This time, Suletta tries to follow her gaze. “Hm? What is it?”

Miorine chuckles. “It’s a bit hard to see. They’re just a bunch of clouds to the naked eye.” She takes Suletta’s hand and guides it to where she’s pointing. “There.”

Again, like clockwork, a zoom-in display pops up, this time showing a nebula of orange, surrounded with deep navy and teal, swirling in an elegant pink sky; there stands three, mountain-like murky clouds that are sprinkled with a dusting of silver stars. Miorine has seen images on record, but never has she seen it in such a high-resolution, realistic view. It’s almost as though if she reaches out, she can touch it. 

“Th-that’s beautiful, Ms. Miorine.” Suletta says, in awe. “I’ve never… I-I didn’t even know they were there.”

She nods. “Technically, they’re not anymore. A supernova destroyed them six-thousand years ago. But,” she pauses to shrug, “Being seven-thousand light-years away, well, you do the math. They’re called ‘The Pillars of Creation’. Quite a pretentious name, if you ask me.”

“No, I think that’s really majestic. Kind of like you.”

Miorine frowns. “I hope you understand that there’s no use in flattering me.”

“I’m not! I really, really think you’re an incredible person, Ms. Miorine. It’s why I admire you so much.”

The pounding in her chest doesn’t return just because of Suletta’s words this time. This time, Miorine notes, it is because that hand she was holding onto—Suletta’s rough, undoubtedly blister-filled hand—is holding back onto her smaller one. Yes, it is nowhere as soft, nowhere as dainty as her own, but she finds comfort in it all the same. Which is precisely why it makes her feel whoozy. Just… light-headed. 

Miorine reasons that it is because it’s way past her bedtime. She can even argue that breathing in this recycled oxygen is doing things to her, but ultimately, she knows the truth.

She has, against all odds, fallen for this idiot. 

Probably a bit late to admit—probably never going to admit out loud, but Miorine knows. 

Maybe she’s the idiot for denying it for this long.

“So, I’m pretentious?” She teases, doing so to break the tension.

“Wha—no! I didn’t say that! I said they were majestic and beautiful—” Suletta stops, cuts right off like a disconnected call. 

Both realizing what she had said, they fall into another silence, this time much more awkward than before. 

Again, no words, no sound. Nothing, but the soft humming of Aerial’s thrusters. 

Miorine glances at the power. 20%, it reads. Strange as it may be, she doesn’t find herself wanting to get out. No, side-straddling Suletta like this, being cramped in such a small space, and having the very real threat of running out of oxygen are just the tip of the iceberg of concerns. Even so, Miorine doesn’t mind this. 

Doesn’t mind being with Suletta.

Doesn’t mind listening to Suletta. 

Doesn’t mind being in her presence.

If anything, she wants this to last. Her eyes start drooping, the soothing scent of Suletta wrapping around her like a protective barrier, Miorine thinks she feels safe enough to fall asleep. But she stubbornly fights it. Sleeping would mean wasting time. Wasting time would mean missing out on this moment.

So she fights. She prays that somehow, time and gravity will slow down for her. That if she tries—if she just puts some effort into this—

“Suletta.”

“Hmm?”

Their hands still joined, Miorine holds on. She slips her fingers through the cracks, and, with fatigue and shyness and a warped sense of courage mixed awkwardly together, she mumbles into Suletta’s neck, “... Look below.”

As instructed, Aerial tilts downwards, slowly bringing in a panoramic view of Earth in its full glory. They must have lost the horizon line having flown off the grid. Normally, pilots always ensure that mobile suits are aligned to be Earth’s level—that is to prevent unnecessary navigational errors. But right now, as it stands, as they are on top of the planet, it’s like they are walking on it. 

So close, yet so far. 

“To me,” Miorine’s voice, soft as a falling feather, trails off. It fades like a forgotten breeze, “... that is the most beautiful.”

Suletta breathes in. A quiet acknowledgement. “You’ll be there someday, Ms. Miorine. I promise.”

Quite a naive statement, she wants to say. Miorine would have laughed to these words a few months ago. But, as she raises her head, as she finds the same shade of blue, same flecks of green and white and sparks of black as seen on Earth’s surface in Suletta’s irises, Miorine is transcended into another realm. 

Even if it is just for a hint of a second, it happens.

A realization.

An epiphany. 

And it brings a smile to her face. It makes her tear up, but she hides it quickly, burying her face in Suletta’s neck. 

“Ms. Miorine?”

She just shakes her head, ignoring the sourness in her nose and the heat in her eyes.  

“Ms. Miorine,” Suletta tries again, this time more gently. 

As subtle as she can, Miorine wipes away her tears. Though, there’s nothing subtle about a stained tight-suit. Suletta very well notices her crying, but she is respectful enough to not draw attention to it. Instead, when Miorine looks up with a pout, the girl greets her with the kindest smile. Then, she gestures forward. 

“Look,” Suletta says. 

Miorine follows her gaze. 

Aerial, once again on cue, aligns itself so that the view would be right in front of them. 

The rising sun, peeking out from the ends of Earth. A starburst effect, it blinds them momentarily; Miorine has to cover her eyes, but she never looks away. Like moths drawn to a flame, they are much too in awe to do so. 

“I think anything I can experience with you is beautiful, Ms. Miorine.”

A flutter in her heart. She can’t help it this time. Miorine meets Suletta’s eyes. 

Still so tender, still, still so warm. 

“Having not yet collided with the Andromeda Galaxy, being able to see the Pillars even though they no longer exist, and… well, being at the right time, at the exact angle where I can watch the sunrise with you,” she grins. “I—I am happy to be able to exist in this moment. H-happy and grateful that you are the one I can share this with.”

Oh.

Oh, goodness.

Miorine thinks she’s forgotten how to breathe. Her heart swells; it may very well have stopped functioning. She doesn’t know how to respond—doesn’t have the capacity to respond. She just knows that as of now, she really, really wants to kiss this girl. 

But she’s scared. Doesn’t understand these immature, perhaps, selfish feelings. 

Suletta is naive, innocent, and as she had mentioned earlier, easy to take advantage of. Miorine doesn’t want to do that. This girl deserves much, much more. Someone like herself can never measure up. So, as much as it hurts, Miorine just hides back in Suletta’s neck. Giving in to a bit of that selfishness of hers, this time, she wraps her arms around Suletta’s waist—fully, completely. 

And she’s so glad that Suletta returns the embrace.

“You…” Miorine hiccups, “... can thank your Aerial for all this as well, I suppose. For bringing us out here. I guess it—she isn’t such a stupid machine, after all.”

She giggles. “Yes, of course. Did you hear that, Aerial? Ms. Miorine says ‘thank you’!”

As soon as Suletta finishes, silence looms over. It is then Miorine realizes that the thrusters have shut off. The displays are still functioning; power supply is at 17%, and nothing seems to be amok, but everything is just… quiet.  

“What happened?”

Suletta makes a face. Confusion, surprise, and relief—in that order. “Okay!” she suddenly says. “Aerial says I can have control again. And she says you’re… wha—Aerial!”

Miorine raises a brow. 

“D-d-don’t say that about Ms. Miorine!”

“What is it—” she grunts, correcting herself, “What is she saying?”

“I… don’t think I should, um…”

“No, tell me,” Miorine insists. 

“Erm. Promise you won’t get mad?” 

She keeps still. 

“A-Aerial says that you’re—you should just be honest with your feelings and, um, t-tell me that you want to k-k-kiss…” Suletta swallows. She clenches her eyes shut. “No! I can’t say it!”

“Wha—” Miorine sits up, grabbing Suletta by the cheeks again. “You and your sick mind! Bet you’re just projecting, saying, ooh, Aerial is telling me this, telling me that, when really, you’re the one who’s thinking whatever it is you’re thinking, you pervert!”

“I-I-I’m not!” Suletta cries. “Please, Ms. Miorine, it hurts…!”

With no intention to actually hurt the girl, she stops right away, taking care to rub at where she’s pinched lightly. Cute, reddened cheeks and a pouty face. Miorine should be mad; she should be maintaining that angry expression of hers, but she knows for a fact that what she feels right now is pure happiness. Her fingers run random patterns along Suletta’s skin, just tracing, outlining the softness here and there. In contrast to her blister-filled hands, Suletta’s cheeks are incredibly smooth to touch. Miorine’s fingertips glide along the surface, coming to trace her high cheekbones and that well-defined jawline. Those fingers of hers eventually come together in the middle, right at Suletta’s pink lips. 

Realization strikes her—it strikes them both. As Suletta gasps, Miorine stares upwards, round, grey eyes uncertain and scared and… pleading. 

For what, however, she doesn’t want to say. 

Perhaps by putting faith in her body, by betting everything onto this next move, it will become clear. 

Miorine leans in, a slow and steady motion. Suletta, likewise, lets herself be guided—her aqua eyes fall shut as she, too, follows what may be faith.

And as the two come together, with nothing but the constellations and nebulae as their witness, Miorine thinks she sees bliss, conceptualized. It is in the form of a redhead. Healthy, sun-kissed skin, eyes reflecting her ultimate goal—of earth—of what she wants to call home. She is brave, attentive, and a bit of a dummy. 

But Aerial isn’t wrong. 

That’s why she should just be honest. Be honest, and do what she wants. Just kiss—

A loud, blaring alarm.

The screens around them turn red, displays popping up to warn of incoming mobile suits. Hostile and life-threatening, maybe, but Miorine can’t seem to have it in herself to care. The second they pulled away, the fact that they were unable to touch is just… it’s likely what they call a ‘heartbreak’.

The pilots of the Zoworts link with their comms, demanding them to stand down, to shut off their engine. They proceed to tell the two that they have broken a list of rules, but the words don’t reach her. Miorine just knows to hide herself in Suletta’s chest again. It’s the only semblance of comfort she can get at this point.

“They’re coming.” Suletta starts, at last breaking the silence as she whispers into the crown of Miorine’s head.

“Mmn.”

“W-we should give ourselves in.”

Miorine just nods. “... Mmn.”

Suletta heaves a sigh. One hand on the controls, she turns Aerial around, turns her towards the incoming Zoworts. With her free arm, she wraps it around Miorine, hugs her.

And as Miorine seeks the remnants of her warmth, in the silence that follows as they head back to Asticassia, she loses herself to the sound of Suletta’s steady heartbeat. 

.
.

They are guided, monitored like criminals with—now—six Zoworts surrounding them as Suletta attaches Aerial back to the docking bay. They are told to remain in the cockpit, that someone will come to retrieve them. No big deal; probably just more of those goons from Front Management. 

What is a big deal to her is the fact that she, as she has come to realize, doesn’t want to move from this position. Held in the embrace of Suletta’s arms, surrounded by her warmth, and the rhythmic beating of her chest—it’s so simple, but Miorine has grown fond of it. 

It’s almost as though she cannot feel a hint of worry so long as she stays like this. 

But now that everything is shut down as per instructions, they cannot see what is happening outside. They hear muffled noises, conversations and rushed movements. Though Miorine is able to remain calm, she can tell by Suletta’s increasing heart rate that it’s not the same for her. Naturally, she reaches for her hand—the one that is wrapped around her shoulder. 

“It’ll be okay,” Miorine tells her in a whisper. “Remember what I said.”

The doors of the cockpit open. Blinding industrial lights pierce into the darkness, and then comes an imposing silhouette. 

In a single move, Suletta instinctively wraps her arms around Miorine, protective. 

The corners of her lips tug upwards. Miorine turns a little, now speaking directly into Suletta’s neck, “I promise I’ll protect Aerial.”

She pulls back so they can see each other. 

“I promise I’ll protect you.”

A look of shock, and then, gradually, a smile. One that acknowledges the truth—one that radiates with trust. Suletta nods, wordless, and the two are escorted out of the cockpit. 

Miorine adjusts Suletta’s jacket, slipping her arms into the sleeves to at last put it on. The thought of the girl’s warmth still wrapped around her grants a newfound surge of confidence. She wears a smirk, giving Suletta one last look of assurance. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she mouths.

The beautiful smile that she sees from her groom is all that she needs as a response. 

.
.

Miorine doesn’t usually pull the do-you-know-who-my-father-is? card, but when she does, well… let’s just say it works about ninety-nine percent of the time. She explains to the hearing that as CEO of GUND-ARM Inc., the first company ever founded by a student—literally the pride of Asticassia, it represents many things. One of which is the heavily-prejudiced Earth House. So, if they truly decide to penalize them for running some tests that, one — did not cause any damage (truth), and two — has been authorized by the head of the Benerit Group (that one’s a lie), then, by all means, they can take it up to Delling Rembran themselves. 

She backs up her claim by stating that it’s the whole reason the security access was overridden. It’s because Front Management is just another subsidiary that belongs to her father. 

But, of course, that’s also a lie. By now, she knows it has something to do with Suletta. Or, well, more accurately, Aerial. Actually, she should be more aware—from the start, from how this entire ordeal started, it was because of that unknown number that told her Suletta’s location. It is anonymous and untraceable, but she’s very sure that it originated from the Gundam. 

There is still so much about its technology that she doesn’t understand. She’ll need to dig up some notes from Shin Sei later. But if it really was the Aerial that sent her to Suletta, then does that mean… in some way—like, in a very, very unlikely way, it is sentient?

Miorine chuckles to herself. 

Nah, that’s dumb.

Anyway, there are more important things to worry about. Right now, as she is finally adjourned from the hearing and is free of any form of punishment, she raises the question, “And Suletta? What did you do to her?”

The head of the hearing, an old geezer who is clearly intimidated by her status, sighs in exasperation. “She has been released long before you, Ms. Rembran. W-we cannot afford to bring any more trouble to your groom, given the power that she holds over both Jeturk House and Peil House.”

Hm, that’s right, Miorine thinks. Her groom’s victory against them has brought her immense respect. The genuine skill and grace in which she accomplished such a feat has solidified her as a celebrity on campus. Suletta doesn’t know it, but she has gotten quite popular amongst the students recently. 

N-not that it bothers Miorine. Uh-uh. Not one bit. 

She brushes the thought aside. Steps out of the faculty building and is immediately greeted by the morning sun. The overhead clock indicates that it is long past noon. Has she been in that meeting for that long?

Whatever. 

Miorine is stricken with a yawn. She reaches for her pocket and fishes out her student handbook, taking note of all the notifications from the nosy people from Earth House.

‘Oh my goodness, Ms. Miorine! Is it true that you two snuck out to space just for a date?’ — Lilique.

‘Damn, princess! Didn’t know you had it in you. You two are, like, the talk of campus right now.” — Nuno. Or Ojelo. Doesn’t matter, Miorine never saved their numbers.

‘So… it wasn’t just a dinner. It wasn’t a ‘night in’, either ;)’ — freaking Nika.

‘Did you two actually fuck in space?’ — and, what?! Chuchu…!

She grits her teeth, scrolling through the messages to finally see Suletta’s.

‘I got my student handbook back, Ms. Miorine.’ — 06:30

‘They let me go, Ms. Miorine!’ — 08:10

‘I’m sorry for messaging you so much, but I’m really worried.’ — 10:45

‘Please let me know if everything’s okay. I’ll wait for you in your room.’ — 11:15.

She clutches the device close to her chest, relieved. Miorine knows what she has to do. She runs for the closest scooter station, ignoring the judgemental stares from everyone, which, um, is understandable, considering how she is still in her sleeping wear and Suletta’s oversized jacket. Yes, she is fully aware that she looks like she’s doing that infamous ‘walk-of-shame’ in the morning after. Miorine only has her and Suletta’s stupid size difference to blame. But that’s the least of her worries; she boards a scooter, activating it in record-time and heads straight towards her building. 

.
.

The adrenaline that she is high on eventually wears off, thankfully after she reaches her destination. Miorine can’t imagine losing to fatigue when she is riding the scooter at full speed. The fall would certainly break her neck, at the very least.

She heads inside, through the lobby, up the elevator, through the corridor, and at last, her room. The plants that she spends much time caring for greet her as usual, and while she would typically stop to observe them, today, she runs straight upstairs. 

With the remaining strength in her, she carries herself quietly across the room. All her concerns, of the company, of her father, of every problem she has come to know—erased once she catches the sight of a certain redhead, still in her orange tight suit, on her bed lying and lying on her side, fast asleep.

A familiar warmth bubbles in her chest. 

Miorine removes her slippers, now dust-ridden, a lost cause, but she doesn’t take off the jacket. She has no intention to. She comes close to the bed, sitting down on the side at first, letting the mattress dip in with her weight. The redhead, the owner of that jacket, does not stir. Poor girl must be exhausted. Carefully, Miorine lifts an arm, slipping herself into the taller girl’s embrace. She snuggles close—close enough so that she may hide in her chest, just as she was when they were in Aerial’s cockpit. 

A newfound position that grants her safety, if you will. 

But then comes a heavy intake of breath. “Ms… Miorine?” Suletta starts. “... ‘m sorry… I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your bed. I’ll—”

She is too tired to care. Miorine just circles her skinny arms around Suletta’s form. “Sleep,” she whispers. 

“Mmn…” Suletta, in response, wraps her strong arms around Miorine’s head. “You’re okay.” She says, voice layered with tiredness. 

Miorine nods. “I told you it’ll be alright. Both you and Aerial.”

She breathes out with a smile. “No… not just us. But you. You’re okay.”

She’s sweet, always so sweet. Always needlessly attentive. Suletta’s quite the girlfriend material, isn’t she?  

It’s a silly thought.

By now, Miorine knows that the girl has fallen asleep. As much as she wants to remain in this position, a larger part of her wants to look up. She wants to look at this girl. 

Miorine places a palm on that soft cheek. She caresses her skin, fingertips dancing below a closed eye. In a gentle brush, she touches those long lashes. Suletta reacts with a light gasp but goes on, snoring. 

It’s cute. So peaceful, Miorine thinks. 

With her thumb, she brushes along Suletta’s lips, full and pink and so soft to touch. Even now, she wonders what it would have been like to kiss them. 

She still wants to kiss them.

But, no. No, Miorine tells herself.

She knows that’s unfair. She can’t take advantage of Suletta. She doesn’t want to be just this to this girl. In truth, Miorine wants to ask her many things; she wants Suletta to be the one to go to Earth with her one day. She wants so much to ask her that, but it would mean to place another burden on her.

She can’t. 

That’s not fair.

Suletta is so much more.

“You’re not just a shield,” Miorine whispers, responding to what she accidentally heard Suletta saying to Aerial last night. “And I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing you.”

Another quiet snore. 

Miorine just smiles. She leans in, pressing her lips on the girl’s cheek—lingers there, long enough that she argues is dictated by her greed, by her selfishness, before finally pulling back to rest her head on the pillow. She doesn’t want to kiss her on the lips, because she wants the girl to be awake when it happens. She wants them to share it together. 

Just as she drifts off to sleep, Miorine dreams of a beautiful future. One that she may share a life with Suletta. A life with her on Earth—to live in a place they can call home.

But for now, she is content to have this home, embodied so beautifully in this girl, right here in her arms.

.
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