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The murmuring ocean of faces burst into a resonant applause. Touka would’ve normally basked in the admiration, but found herself wanting to sigh instead as the dense forest of Greek letters and superscripts—describing the kinetic coherence of dark matter halos—faded from the two massive screens flanking the stage she stood on. Still, the etiquette she’d been taught reigned bone-deep, so she dipped her head into a polite bow. The very structure of the fabric she wore felt stifling, well-tailored though it was. When she straightened, her practiced smile snapped off her face, replaced by a cool neutrality that had always served her well. Too much smiling made people nervous. She tugged at the cuff of the starched white shirt beneath her suit jacket—really, she would have preferred to at least wear a blouse.
A gentleman from the conference staff with a badge proclaiming him ‘Logistics Coordinator’ approached alongside two others, their expressions a blend of deferential awe and professional urgency. “Miss Satomi, please come with us.”
Right. They needed to move her out of the way for the next speaker.
Her parents waited just past the edge of the stage, where the opulent carpeting met the marble floor of the receiving area. As expected, her father beamed with unconcealed pride, his hands clasped firmly in front of him. Her mother stood a slight distance apart, and Touka’s eyes quickly caught the fragility of her thin smile, the nervous way her fingers twisted the edge of her shawl. She couldn’t fathom why the woman had even joined them on the trip to Tokyo.
A few steps farther, almost blending into the wall paneling, was Nemu. The one Touka had actually been looking for. Nemu had a paperback novel already open in her lap, but Touka squinted slightly when she saw the other girl’s eyes weren’t moving at all.
“Her hand placement is off too… Is she pretending to read so she won’t have to talk to my parents?”
As the staff directed them toward their designated waiting room, Nemu maneuvered her chair to follow the group. The Logistics Coordinator’s brisk pace paused for a moment. He let out a faint tsk of annoyance from under his professional facade, and while she was sure he didn’t expect anyone to have heard him or react to it, especially as she was walking in line with her parents, Touka stopped dead and turned her head slowly. The man caught the blaze in her glare. He turned pale and bent into a deep, wordless bow, almost hitting his knees, then scrambled away past the next set of double doors.
“Hmph. I will need to have Papa lodge a complaint about him.”
No one in the party acknowledged the incident. Touka lingered closer to her partner once in the waiting room. Her father seemed to have found a Nobel Laureate to exchange congratulatory pleasantries with, and her mother looked around like a fish out of water. Well, she wasn’t about to leave Nemu’s side just to direct her mother like cattle.
“Are you alright?” Touka murmured.
Nemu did not look up, her gaze fixed on the dense text of her novel. “I’m bored, that is all.”
“You’re not even reading. And your jaw is clenched.”
The slight tightening barely disturbed the skin, but Touka was intimately familiar with Nemu’s overly negative thought patterns and her body’s numerous tells. A glance around the room revealed the reason right away: every person she looked at had averted their eyes a moment too late. Touka frowned. Nemu disliked being the center of attention in crowds most of the time already, let alone knowing why. Each little glance or stare made her out to be more object than human.
Touka winced at a zap from her bracelet under her sleeve. Temper, temper.
They needed to leave.
There were a few lectures she’d been looking forward to, and she certainly would’ve enjoyed talking to at least some of the attendees, however… it was not worth making Nemu put up with so much discomfort and stress that the girl couldn’t even focus on reading. With her decision made, Touka approached her father.
At a professional volume appropriate for the venue, “We’re done here.”
She’d interrupted his conversation without apology. The Nobel Laureate blinked, politely stunned, and murmured an apology before excusing himself.
“Already, Touka? You said this morning that you were-”
“We are finished,” she stated, slightly firmer now—the way she spoke when she’d given orders to her Feathers. “Get the car now.”
His features softened into something gentler. “Of course. Give me a moment.”
He pulled out his phone, already signaling for his security detail to adjust the schedule. It wasn’t the first time he heard his daughter’s surprisingly authoritative tone, and he knew she never used it lightly. Touka nodded once, then moved quickly back to Nemu’s side, finally letting her own shoulders drop.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You heard?”
“Mm.”
She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “If these people can’t be respectful to you, they don’t deserve to be graced with my genius either. And I’m making sure that logistics guy from earlier has his pay docked for this.”
Nemu’s brows furrowed. “Touka…”
“No buts. You deserve no less than the same deference shown to me.”
“… I believe, had you told me two years ago that I would see you defend me, I would have called you insane.”
Touka shrugged and tried not to scoff. She was still in public. “What does it matter if I am? You’re no better.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her partner crack a smile, and couldn’t help but mirror it. Some of their stunts were a little beyond what the average person may consider sane. Nemu offered no jabs in return, seemingly content with falling into their usual comfortable silence. The tension faded as if they’d been enveloped in a protective bubble.
It almost felt like magic.
The restaurant smelled of aged wood, soy, and refined sesame oil. It was quiet. The staff moved like solemn acolytes at a temple, and the corner table reserved for them was spacious enough to accommodate her wheelchair without requiring Nemu to feel like a navigational hazard. She’d been hoping Touka would forget about earlier. If she was lucky, Dr. Satomi would speak to his daughter over lunch, and the small incident would slip past unnoticed. The thought brought a cold ache to her stomach. But it was for the best.
When the waiter presented the menus, Nemu’s eyes tracked down the columns until she found the most modest option. She waited for a brief lull in the low-toned conversation between Touka’s parents.
“I’ll have the seasonal vegetables, please,” Nemu said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before the waiter could even note the choice, Touka’s voice cut clear across the table. “No, she won’t,” the girl stated, not looking at Nemu, but staring straight at the waiter. “She will have the simmered flounder. The one with the dashi and scallions. She also wants the premium rice.”
The waiter simply bowed and confirmed the order, moving on to Dr. Satomi without pause. Nemu felt heat rise slightly in her cheeks, and her gaze fell to the linen napkin in her lap. Perhaps allowing Touka to know her food preferences so well had been a mistake. She’d brought her here before, a year prior, and a similar exchange had occurred, except as a Magius she’d felt somewhat more confident and had hesitantly ordered her favorite on her own.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be this expensive.”
The apology stayed lodged in her throat, useless. She couldn’t say that in front of Touka’s parents without burdening them too, and if she said it to Touka telepathically, she couldn’t predict the fuss Touka might make over it. Mercifully, her partner didn’t interrogate her at that moment.
Once the food arrived, Nemu kept her attention focused on the exquisite ceramic plate before her, only offering single-word answers when Dr. Satomi—or occasionally Touka’s mother—directed a polite question her way.
Across the polished wooden table, Touka ate with the same intense concentration she applied to particle physics. Nemu risked a glance up. Just to observe her partner’s impeccable table manners, she told herself. Touka’s eyes, momentarily lifting from her own plate, caught hers. The look held no obvious anger, but she knew what it meant. She hoped Touka wouldn’t decide to start up a telepathic conversation right here and now. Not that it would delay for long.
She pulled a perfect piece of flounder onto her spoon, but the delicate flavor did little to distract her.
It had only been a few months since the battle against Walpurgisnacht, since the debris had been cleared, and since the doctors had confirmed her injury was permanent. Mitama hadn’t been able to do anything for her, how could doctors hope to treat a consequence of magic overuse?
Everything was different. The brief period of minimal attention she’d enjoyed from her family had all but vanished into thin air, and she could feel the eyes of every passerby lingering. On the chair, on the way she had to angle herself at the table, on the assistance the staff provided at any given place. She’d seen every reaction over the past months: pity, awkwardness, discomfort, impatience, frustration. Anger.
Touka had so far taken everything in stride. She’d gone above and beyond to ensure Nemu’s comfort, and hadn’t treated her much differently at all. Nemu didn’t want to think too much about the possibility that one day, Touka might grow tired of her too. She had doubted her adequacy as a companion since the first time Touka asked her to come along to an event as her plus one, not long after they’d started recruitment for the Wings of the Magius, but now? When simply entering a room required an advance survey and a dedicated staff escort? When it sometimes took her an hour or more to get ready for almost any outing?
It had to be inconvenient. If nothing else, it had to be that. And Touka hated inconveniences, hated anything that disrupted her plans.
A light kick to her shin brought her attention back to the table. “Nemu. Papa asked about how you developed Ichiko’s character arc in your latest novel. He finished it on the car ride to the venue this morning.”
The man blinked, as if confused.
Touka pouted and continued, “I don’t know the technical stuff, I just helped with the ‘science’ part of the fiction, so…”
“Oh… I apologize, Dr. Satomi, I was… lost in thought.”
She cleared her throat and put her mind in order to answer the question. Oddly, after a minute of discussion with Dr. Satomi, she saw Touka smile at the edge of her vision. Either way, her focus was on the topic at hand.
That did distract her.
The elevator doors hissed open onto a corridor that felt, to Nemu, less like a public space and more like an extension of a private residence. The thick carpet absorbed every sound, and the air was subtly scented with… something expensive and floral that she assumed Touka would know the name of.
Dr. Satomi paused before the double doors of the suite he shared with his wife. “What will you two do next?”
“We’ll get changed and relax for a bit,” Touka replied, reaching for the door to their adjacent suite. “Then I’ll build a schedule. I need to find something intellectually stimulating and appropriately accessible for a Tokyo afternoon.”
Dr. Satomi let out a chuckle. “An itinerary, naturally. Would you like a few of the security detail to accompany you on your outing? It’s a busy city.”
Touka hesitated. Nemu saw her posture lock up, the tiny jolt from Touka’s bracelet under her sleeve. The memory made the metal of her own feel colder.
“If we were home, I’d say no,” Touka managed, her voice smooth and formal. “But this is Tokyo. Just two. Also, will you and Mama need the car this afternoon?”
“We will be staying in, don’t worry. Have a peaceful rest, both of you. You earned it.”
Mrs. Satomi offered a shallow nod as she slipped through the doors behind her husband. Immediately, Nemu felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Time was ticking.
“Come on, I can’t stand being in this any longer than I have to.”
She gave her partner a nod and followed her into their needlessly expansive suite.
Touka, of course, moved with her usual efficiency to shed her suit jacket. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get you something better in time. Do you want me to help?”
The apology gave Nemu some pause. She’d been enough of a hassle for Touka’s favored seamstress in the past, surely. Without thinking much about it, she nodded and cooperated with Touka’s maneuvering of her limbs. Technically, she could move her legs, but putting much weight on them at all would make them buckle and result in a gnarly fall, so at Touka’s insistence, she’d transitioned to dress while seated for safety. Touka’s hands were gentle, carefully pulling down the zippers and drawing the black cloth away from Nemu’s shoulders. It felt like soft winter sunlight spreading across her skin. Her partner’s care never failed to dissolve some of the chill she carried all day.
Before Nemu realized, she was wearing the loose, oversized charcoal sweater and soft black trousers she’d packed for the trip. Touka would take longer to change, she always did. She knew she was allowed to watch if she wanted to, but… she kept her eyes fixed on the unremarkable black of her lap. She hadn’t exactly earned the privilege.
A moment later, Touka was arrayed in a tiered black dress with white lace trim and puffed sleeves. She heaved a dramatic sigh and finally collapsed over the edge of the king-sized bed they shared, making a dip in the plush mattress. “Ugh. That was so annoying.”
“Sorry…”
Touka pulled herself a little farther into the bed and turned to face Nemu. “No, absolutely not. I’m annoyed at those people, not you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You had us leave early because of me.”
“I don’t want to be there if you’re suffering because of it.”
Nemu pointedly avoided looking in the other girl’s direction. “That’s surprisingly mature of you.”
“Ugh!” Touka grabbed her by the face. “Look at me. We’re going to talk about this. You need to tell me what it is when something’s wrong. I can read you well, but not that well. My assumptions have been wrong before. Give me some data to work with, come on! What are you afraid of?”
Nemu’s shoulders slumped. She knew it. As usual, the only way out was through. She brought her forehead forward to touch Touka’s. “What is your hypothesis?”
This particular gesture was something she’d picked up from Touka, too. She’d really rubbed off on her, hadn’t she?
“I hypothesize that you’re sulking.”
“I… am.”
It was hard to deny it when Touka looked at her like that. With great clemency, she let Nemu’s face go, her hands coming to a rest on Nemu’s knees. Trapped again. Not that Nemu made any effort to ‘escape’ her predicament.
“I know it has something to do with how you can’t walk, but I thought we’d talked about this already. I’ve told you before that it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t think any less of you and it doesn’t bother me. The adjustments I’ve had to make are so minimal I’ve barely noticed.”
Nemu squirmed a little on her side of the mattress. “It’s not… Well, it is about that, in a manner of speaking…”
“Tell me.”
She turned her head away and shrunk into herself. It was too pathetic to admit out loud.
“Please?”
Except when Touka begged. That may have just been to Nemu like his heel to Achilles. It was so unlike her, and every plea that made it past her lips tugged at Nemu more strongly than any rope or chain.
Ultimately, she bit her lip, squeezed her eyes shut a few seconds, then brought a hand to her partner’s shoulder. “Lie down on your side.”
If she couldn’t say it to Touka’s face, perhaps she could say it to her back. Thankfully, Touka didn’t question her; she settled with her head on the pillow. Nemu put one arm around her stomach and her other hand on Touka’s shoulder blade. It was comforting, just like her body pillow at home had been before, and she yearned for nothing more than to hold Touka closer.
Not now. That was what the hand placement was meant to deter.
“I… feel that I am no longer qualified to accompany you to events. And I… I fear you may eventually come to see this and discard me.”
Touka waited until she felt a press on her back—a sign to tell her the other girl was done talking. “On what grounds?”
“What?”
“Can I turn around?”
“I- yes.”
Like a kitten held in a towel after a bath, Touka wriggled until she was face to face with Nemu. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Nemu blinked. “Do… what?”
“I sat in on a few lectures the last time I was at Kamihama University, and I’m going to test out what I learned. You’re scared you’re not ‘qualified’—whatever that means—and that I’ll leave you for some reason.”
“Are you… using therapy techni-”
“Focus! Now, how likely is it that your assumptions are wrong? I know you’re smart enough to take a step back and analyze a situation. If anyone knows me to my core, it’s you. Is it likelier that I would act that way, or that I wouldn’t?”
Truth be told, Nemu could not conceive a universe where Touka would actually let go of her. “You… wouldn’t.”
Touka booped her nose. “Correct! So stop worrying! Also, talk to me when you’re spiraling, okay?”
Finally, Nemu smiled. “Okay.”
“Great!” Her partner pulled out her phone and showed her the screen. “This is our backup schedule. Do you want to go out, or stay in?”
“We should take advantage of our time in Tokyo… Give me ten more minutes of your time before we head out?”
Touka giggled, wrapped her arms around her, and nuzzled into her neck. “I’ve always given you my time.”
Nemu sought words, anything she could say to that. They didn’t come to her.
It didn’t matter.
She indulged herself and held her closer. “Thank you, Touka.”