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The morning announcement roused Kurara from her sleep. Through great effort, she extricated herself from bed and trudged over to the bathroom, her body animated more by discipline than desire. The sweet siren call of slumber called to her more these past months than it ever had before.
In truth, this was the hardest part of her day. More difficult than her technical work in the metal shop, than the hours of grueling training she put herself through every day, even more difficult than when they were attacked and forced onto the battlefield.
The hardest part of her day…
“Gonna be busy all day, again?” Darumi’s voice, already heavy with disappointment, rolled out from the bed.
…was this. To look straight into the eyes of the person she loved, who wanted nothing more than to spend time with her, and tell her that she’ll have to be alone for another day. To watch Darumi’s smile, full of false hope, fade from her face. To know how lonely Darumi was, and depart anyway.
To reject even her own feelings, for she wanted nothing more than to spend the day in, without worries, alongside the person she loved.
However, reality was cruel… and their reality was much crueler still. Kurara had to replenish their walls and traps, and keep in peak condition, at least until they could go home. If anyone fell because of her weakness, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
“Yeah… sorry.” Kurara fastened the clasp of her overcoat. “See you at breakfast?”
“Mmng…” Darumi hardly responded, pulling her knees into her chest.
Kurara felt a pang of guilt cut through her body, but she had to push through it. She had to ignore it, for everyone’s sakes… including Darumi’s. Kurara had to be at her best, no matter what.
If only it wasn’t for this damned war looming over them… As soon as they regained their freedom, Kurara had plans. Darumi deserved so much better than what life had given her, and if Kurara had learned anything from living the high life, it was how to spoil someone rotten.
However, as it is often said, love was a battlefield, and no plan survives contact with the enemy.
“Do you even care…?” Darumi glowered, her voice a low hiss.
“Wh–?” Kurara hardly had time to process what Darumi had said.
Darumi pulled her legs in tighter, her voice rising as she spoke. “Don’t you know how much this hurts…?! Watching you leave me behind every day?!”
Caught completely off-guard, Kurara wasn’t sure what to say. “Darumi, I–”
“I thought you cared.” Darumi was clearly shaking, though Kurara couldn’t tell with what. “But you only want to spend time with me at night…”
“That’s… that’s not–!” Kurara struggled to get a word in. She struggled to even think of what to say.
“You’re just like everyone else… you say I’m important, but you’re never around…” Darumi buried her face in her knees. “I thought you were different, Kurara.”
The words reverberated through Kurara like artillery fire. Her head was spinning, and her ears were ringing.
“Just go, already.” Darumi’s voice was firm.
“D-Darumi…” Kurara strode to the edge of the bed and reached out.
As soon as she made the barest contact with her arm, Darumi knocked her hand away. Pain shot through Kurara’s wrist. “Don’t touch me!” Darumi shrieked. “Don’t fucking touch me! Just get the hell out!”
Kurara shrank away. Darumi had been unpredictable at the best of times, but this was something else. Her mind raced to keep up with what was happening.
“Get out!” Darumi repeated. “Don’t come back!”
Kurara opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Unable to bear Darumi’s glare, she tucked her mask under her arm and left Darumi’s room.
Even with the door clicked shut behind her, she could hear Darumi’s wailing, heartbroken sobs. Putting on her mask did nothing to muffle them. The sound swirled around her, echoing again and again.
It was the sound of unfettered mourning. The sound of someone who had lost the only person precious to them.
“Kurara?” She felt a hand on her shoulder. Blinking, she looked around. She found herself in the gym, staring blankly at the punching bag. Discipline had animated her this far, somehow. She looked up to see Nozomi’s concerned face. “Are you alright?”
“I think Darumi just…” A sudden, intense apprehension overtook her body. The words she tried to speak died in her throat, as if it would only become real if she spoke them aloud. “I don’t think we’re…”
Unable to speak, Kurara drifted away. She remembered being hugged. She remembered hearing advice, affirmations. She remembered being taken to breakfast, eating hand-made rolled eggs.
Darumi never came to breakfast. Kurara worried… would Darumi eat something healthy today? Would she… would she eat at all…? It.. wasn’t her place to know anymore, she supposed.
The tears, finally, spilled forth.
Kurara had spent so much time thinking about their future together. It had driven her–far more than expectation ever had–to work faster, harder, to improve more than she thought she could. Kurara had imagined them finally escaping their pasts, running to a future where they could freely be themselves together.
Kurara realized she was in the metal shop. She had failed to consider the present.
She thought she had changed. She thought that having a future to dream of had unshackled her from the burden of the expectations of the Oosuzuki. That feeling had freed her more than she knew… yet was it any different than before?
In the past, she had worked tirelessly for the future… the future of the Oosuzuki. She gave everything for the sake of her family, and when that was not enough, she dug further still to give them more. She gave and gave until she realized they had taken even her future as well.
When she found her own future, she worked tirelessly for that, as well. Producing munitions for their battles, training her mind and body every day, sharpening herself as a weapon. She did it not for the sake of humanity, or the glory of the Oosuzuki, but for the friends who fought by her side. For the person she had grown to love.
But what was different? She had done the same things as before. Had she changed, at all? Was anything even slightly different? If it was… why had she made the same mistake?
Kurara had never considered her present, then or now. She only became aware of it when it left, taking her future with it.
Would she have ever stopped? Today, it was about surviving through this war. But… what about when they returned? Then it would be her education, so she could be sure that she could care for them… then her career, to secure their place in the world… then higher and higher up the ladder, so she could provide more and more for them…
Now with perspective, she knew… she would have spent every day of their future hurting the person she loved, all for the sake of their future.
Darumi was right. Kurara had become just like those from Darumi’s past.
She had already taken Darumi’s presence in her life for granted. Kurara had already shoved her aside for the sake of her own goals, telling herself it was all for Darumi’s sake without ever asking how she felt about it.
Kurara never asked… because she never needed to. How much it hurt Darumi was clearly etched onto her face every morning. Yet Kurara, day after day, left anyway, only to see Darumi for meals and when they crawled into bed together each night.
Just like all those Darumi had known… only caring about her when it was convenient or useful to them. Saying they care and that they’ll help her, only to vanish when Darumi truly needed them. Something else was always more important.
But… Darumi was wrong. Kurara wasn’t like those people. She wasn’t using Darumi for her own benefit or enjoyment. Kurara truly, truly loved her.
Kurara could still build her own life… abandon her family and forge her own path… but that future only shone so brightly because Darumi was there. Without someone who understood what it was like to be so afraid to show your real self… someone who understood what it was like to hate your family, even as you sacrificed everything for them… someone who also had been deprived of their own future…
Without Darumi, what was the point of any of it?
And it was all gone, just like that? Kurara flinching under someone’s screaming voice and hiding away? Stewing in her own inevitable failures?
She was willing to sacrifice her present for her future time and time again, yet she cried and cowered so easily?
It wasn’t fair.
Kurara had hardly gotten a word in edge-wise. Didn’t she at least deserve a chance? Darumi was right… but Darumi was wrong. Kurara hadn’t appreciated the time they already had together… but still, she thought Darumi understood why. Even if Kurara had messed up… the reason why still counts for something, at least? Right?
She didn’t know. Even if she did it… told herself that she did it for Darumi’s sake, Kurara had still neglected her day after day.
Kurara found herself standing at the door to the training room. Discipline urged her forward towards today’s VR session. Even though she knew Darumi was suffering… even though she knew, at this very moment, Darumi was curled into a ball, thinking that the person she loved was just using her like everyone else…
If Kurara really wasn’t like those people from Darumi’s past… If Kurara really wasn’t the person she used to be… Then she would have to prove it. She would have to find a way to show Darumi… to her, this wasn’t just some fling. She’d find a way to show Darumi the future that Kurara had been envisioning all this time.
Though discipline and the weight of expectation urged her otherwise, Kurara turned away from the training room and headed to the Gift-O-Matic. Nothing in it was good enough. She wasn’t good enough. Regardless, she picked out a few things to dispense.
She would make it good enough. She, too, would, just maybe…
Kurara spent the rest of the afternoon in the metal shop. Her creation, though diminutive in size, was… a little out of her comfort zone. She had never made anything like it before. Yet she poured herself into every step of the process, filling it with as much of herself as she could.
She could never trust herself to speak, to say exactly it is what she wanted to say without falling victim to her own nerves, or letting the habits of her mask speak for her. So she had to trust in what she made to speak for her instead.
It was still hot in the palm of her hand when she pressed Darumi’s doorbell. A breeze tugged through her hair, her mask already tucked under her arm. When Darumi didn’t answer, she hit the bell again… and again.
Darumi, please… Kurara begged as she slammed the button. Don’t give up, yet…
“What?!” Darumi flung the door open, her eyes above Kurara’s head. She blinked and looked down, her red and swollen eyes widening as she saw who was at her door. “Y… You came back…” She sounded truly shocked.
“Can we talk?” Kurara asked timidly. “Please…”
Darumi hesitated for a long time, complex, unreadable emotions twisting across her face. Shakily, she stood aside.
Kurara held back a sigh of relief as she entered, setting her mask on the table. Darumi remained close to the door, her hands tucked uncomfortably under her elbows. “So… what?” She asked, a tone of bitterness in her voice.
“Darumi, I–” Kurara’s voice caught in her throat. What did she even want to say…? There were too many things. So many things she couldn’t bear to leave unsaid. “I love you.”
Darumi recoiled from the words like a wounded animal. She forced a scoffing laugh. “You know how many people said those words to me? Just to ignore me? I thought you were–”
“I am different! I’m not like those people!” Kurara insisted.
“Coulda fooled me!” Darumi raised her voice. “Seems like you’re never around unless I’m slipping my hand down your–
“Darumi!” Kurara forced back a feeling of disgust, that she could ever even accidentally seem like that kind of person. “That’s not why I’m with you!”
“Then why are you never around?!”
The words shot from Kurara’s mouth before she could think of them. “Because I’m scared!” She took a deep, shaking breath. “I-I can’t bear the thought of losing you! Any of you! So I–”
“If you’re so scared, then why do I never see you?!” Darumi glared, blinking back tears. “All you do is train!”
“We’re at war, Darumi!” Kurara clenched her fist, the object in her hand digging into her skin. “We could die tomorrow! If it was my fault that you got hurt–”
“I can take care of myself!” Darumi shot back. “I never asked you to protect me!”
“I–! I…” Kurara bit her lip. “I know. I know that, but… that doesn’t make the fear stop.”
Darumi looked away, trying to hide the understanding that crossed her face. Despite everything… Kurara felt her heart swell. Darumi knew what it was like… even now. Even when they stood opposed, Darumi could still understand…
“Every time someone abandons me…” Darumi muttered. “It hurts more than anything. I’d rather be alone than ever think I’ll be left alone again, so…” She clenched her fist, raising her voice again. “If you think you can just apologize, like it all won’t just happen again…! Like that just makes it all better…! If I just don’t matter to you, then–!”
“Darumi!” Kurara stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “Marry me.”
Darumi’s voice caught in her throat, her eyes going wide. “W… What…?”
Kurara clasped Darumi’s hand and pressed the ring she made into her palm. “I-I mean it.”
“B-...But…?”
“I know,” Kurara’s voice wavered. “I know I messed up. I know just apologizing and saying I’ll do better doesn’t mean anything.” Her hands tightened around Darumi’s as she stared deep into her bewildered eyes. “So let me show you. I’ve… been working hard… too hard, for the sake of our future together. So much so that I lost sight of our present.”
“K… Kurara…”
“I don’t want to be that kind of person…” Kurara could feel her hands trembling around Darumi’s. “I want to treasure the moments we have now as much as the ones still to come. I–” She swallowed, feelings mixing and spilling over. “I love you, Darumi Amemiya. I-I know this is too fast, but… whenever you’re ready… if you ever feel the same way… I’ll become your wife, if you’ll become mine.”
Darumi stood agape as Kurara released her hand. In clear disbelief, she opened her palm and looked inside. A thin, pale silver ring, with two bright gemstones interlocked in the center. A blue sapphire, and a green emerald. Large, wet teardrops joined the ring in Darumi’s palm.
“D-Did you…”
“Yes,” Kurara knew Darumi’s question, even if she couldn’t ask it. “I made it.”
A sob fell from Darumi’s mouth, a smile cracking across her face as she sniffed. “I-It’s… pretty.” The smile fell as she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Kurara. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about it… I should have just talked to you, but I–”
“I know…” Kurara returned the hug. “It’s alright…”
Just as Darumi understood what it was like for Kurara… Kurara, too, understood what it was like for Darumi. When an insidious thought takes root, no matter how much you argue and struggle against it. How it can control you, even as you know your every action is a mistake you can’t take back. The nuggets of truth in such thoughts making them completely overpowering.
Sometimes, it’s all you can do to struggle against such thoughts. Sometimes you win, but… sometimes you don’t.
Kurara knew that something like this would probably happen again in the future… and she knew it could just as easily be herself falling to her own paranoia next time. Yet… this was where she wanted to be. They could get through it, Kurara knew. They would both have to grow, but she was more than willing.
More than anything else, she wanted to be the person who could make Darumi as happy as she deserved to be.
As Darumi wept tears of joy into her shoulder, Kurara felt a sense of resolution. She would protect their future… and she would cherish their present.