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Nemu had quickly learned that the void was far from empty. Perhaps she should’ve imagined it, based on Touka’s numerous reassurances when she’d first pitched the plan. In this liminal space above the atmosphere, there was no wind, and in her new form, the cold couldn’t touch her. She sat cross-legged in midair with the same ease she would’ve sat on her bed, her back pressed firmly against Touka’s.
Beneath them, the Earth hung like a luminous bead of lapis lazuli suspended in a sea of ink. White veils of cloud swirled and the lights of countless homes lit it up.
“From this height, Mother Earth appears like a cup of clay holding the samsara of countless souls…” Nemu tilted her head back. “Touka, when you look upon our cradle now, what do you see? What do you think of it?”
Behind her, the clicking of magical gears ceased and Touka turned her head. “That’s a bit sudden. If we’re discussing objective observation, it’s a standard terrestrial planet with an unusually high concentration of emotional energy. Statistically speaking, from the point of view of other intelligent lifeforms like the Incubators, its value is derived entirely from its closed-loop ecosystem currently maintaining a stable equilibrium thanks to our intervention-”
Nemu pressed her palm over Touka’s mouth.
“Not the data.” Her voice softened with a fond, knowing warmth. “I am well aware of the atmospheric composition and the energy yields, you’ve talked about all of it before at length. I am asking what you feel. Strip away your inner scholar for a moment, if you can manage.”
Touka fell silent. She didn’t pull away. After a long moment, she angled herself a little differently against Nemu and her body relaxed. She looked out at the curve of the horizon where the sun’s light was just beginning to bleed gold across the Pacific.
“Back in the hospital… I used to look at the stars through the window and feel a sense of kinship. The stars were reachable through a telescope, they helped me feel… free. But the Earth was a place I could never actually touch. I could see the park from the roof, but I couldn’t run in it. I couldn’t be a part of it. I think... I think I resented it a little. Everyone called it home, even though it refused to let me in.” She let out a sharp breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. Her tone shifted back toward a playful timbre and she nudged Nemu’s ribs with her elbow. “That’s why I always preferred the Moon. I’ve always had excellent taste in celestial bodies.”
Nemu didn’t miss a beat. She interlaced her fingers with Touka’s, their hands resting together in the space between them. “And I the Sun.” She turned her body until Touka was forced to meet her gaze. A weakness of hers; Nemu’s eyes were deep pools of violet, and so they would reflect the brilliant crown of light beginning to peek over the Earth’s edge. “The source of all illumination, yet impossible to look at directly without being consumed.”
Touka groaned and her cheeks flushed a very obvious pink—the pallor of their new bodies had proved highly useful for this. She slumped her shoulders in mock defeat. “Ugh, honestly! It’s impossible to one-up you when you get all poetic. I provide a perfectly reasonable lunar analogy and you counter with the center of the solar system? That’s cheating.”
“You have your moments of brilliance,” Nemu conceded, though with a small, triumphant smile on her features. “You should give yourself more credit for the warmth you provide, even if you insist on measuring it in Joules.”
Touka huffed and turned her gaze back to the blue marble below. The playfulness drained from her face, replaced by a solemnity Nemu had rarely seen her partner exhibit.
“I know I acted like this was just another grand experiment, but I didn’t make the decision to leave everything behind lightly. I know you hesitated. I know you felt the weight of the strings we had to cut.”
That much was true; she had agonized over the erasure. To be forgotten was… arguably worse than death. Touka, however, had marched into their apotheosis with her head held high and a smile on her face.
“I thought you were eager to see the results,” Nemu whispered.
Touka sighed. She floated upward and drifted behind Nemu, then wrapped her arms around her partner’s waist, burying her chin into the crook of her shoulder.
“We erased our pasts,” Touka murmured into her neck. “Even if we can manifest an avatar down there, the human ‘Touka Satomi’ who had a life is gone. My parents… They’re better off not knowing they had a daughter who became a monster, then a god. But… it stings. Thinking about Papa. Thinking that he’ll never actually remember me.”
She tightened her grip on Nemu, as if anchoring herself to the only constant left in the multiverse. Her next words were firmer than expected.
“But I don’t miss that world more than I wanted this. I wanted a world where we weren’t just waiting to die or wander in eternal suffering. I wanted to be here with you by my side. It was the right move. I’m certain of it.”
Touka pulled back just enough to look into Nemu’s eyes again.
“I’m more worried about you. I know you agreed to this, but…”
Nemu leaned her head back against Touka’s and looked at the spinning planet below. “To be honest, I expected the weight of the separation to crush me, at first. I thought I would pine for the city I was born and raised in, or, if not my own home, then at least Mother Earth, the cradle of mankind. It feels almost sacrilegious to be this unburdened. I wonder if it is because we have shed our humanity and its associated instincts. Or perhaps it is simply that we have finally outgrown the nest. But then…” She paused and met her partner’s eyes again. “I suspect I don’t feel homesick because the only true home I ever discovered was within you, Touka.”
“Well! Naturally!” Touka crowed, tossing her hair. “I’m an outstanding partner, after all. It’s only logical that my presence would supersede a whole planet’s worth of sentimental value.”
“Is that so? Then I suppose I should thank you properly for the effort you put into this. Most people settle for a ring or a bouquet. You went through the trouble of constructing a throne in the stars just to ensure we would never be parted.” Nemu lifted Touka’s hand and pressed a courteous kiss to the back of her knuckles, her eyes locking onto the other girl’s blushing face. “It truly was the most elaborate marriage proposal in human history, my consort.”
Touka let out a sound that was half-shriek, half-sputter, and her face turned a shade of red that rivaled a supernova. “We are geniuses! We deserve a setting that matches our intellectual and magical caliber!”
“And yet, you aren’t denying it. My wife truly is so very charming even when she’s flustered.”
Touka made a noise like a squeezed cat. Without a word of warning, she threw her weight backward, dragging Nemu with her, and the void vanished around them. Their backs hit something lush and yielding as the scent of blooming flora rushed to meet them. Above them, the great golden tower of their Uwasa barrier’s new Fendt Hope pierced the sky.
“I’m not flustered!” she insisted, even as she rolled onto her side to glare at Nemu. “I’m just… I’m expressing my passion for our joint achievements!”
“It sounds remarkably like pouting to me,” Nemu countered, resting her head on her hand as she lay on the grass.
“I don’t pout! I strategize!”
She reached out to give Touka’s nose a playful flick. “Then you are currently ‘strategizing’ with a very prominent lower lip.”
Touka growled and lunged at her. The two of them tumbled across the lawn and rolled through the manicured greenery. Their path took them right through a set of hedges, where a large fuzzy bear servant was meticulously trimming a bush with a pair of oversized shears. The creature let out a startled, low-pitched ‘uwa?’ and scrambled back, dropping its tools as its two Queens rolled past its paws.
They finally came to a stop in a deep bed of white lilies. Touka ended up on top, her hands pinned to the soft earth on either side of Nemu’s head and her breath coming in brief puffs. Petals were caught in her hair, and her crown was askew, but her eyes were bright with a joy that made Nemu smile. Her scowl didn’t hold up.
“Fine. If you think you’re so clever, I challenge you to a chess match on our next break. International chess. Not shogi. Absolutely not shogi.”
Nemu chuckled. “Because you almost always lose at shogi?”
“Because shogi is a game of attrition that doesn’t account for my superior tactical speed!”
She didn’t move to push her off. Instead, Nemu reached up and she cupped Touka’s cheek. Without rush, she traced the line of Touka’s jaw with her thumb. “How I adore you.”
The protests died in Touka’s throat. Her lips parted but no sound came out. Nemu pulled her down into a soft, lingering kiss. Her partner wasn’t far behind. When they finally broke away, Nemu let out a giggle.
“So you do know how to kiss without biting.”
Touka’s indignation returned instantly. “Hey! I am a very sophisticated partner!”
“And a very hungry one. Your mouth and your hands are always starving, Touka. It’s quite endearing, really. Like a small animal that doesn’t know how to contain its excitement.”
“And you’re any different?” she countered, huffing as she sat back on her heels. “You’re just bigger and better at hiding it!”
Nemu remained reclined among the crushed lilies—they’d repair themselves in a minute. “We were human once, and now we are something more. It is only in our nature to crave that which keeps us grounded to one another. I simply accept it more readily than you do.”
She gently tucked a long strand of Touka’s hair behind her ear. Touka leaned into the touch.
Suddenly, a jolt rippled through the garden. Both of them turned their heads toward the golden spires of the castle proper.
“It appears we have a visitor.”
Touka drifted upward. She looked down at Nemu, hand held out. “Well then, we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Nemu took the offered hand, and together, the two of them rose into the air toward the tower.