--
4.46
by Vosburg
Disclaimer: If you believe I own Variable Geo, have I got
a bridge to sell you.
Note: In this story, there is prominent mention of two women
in a long term relationship. If you are not disposed to read such,
well, nobody's holding a gun to your head.
She was awakened by the pressure on her leg. After a few seconds of confusion, she found that the pressure came not from her other leg, but from the other occupant of the bed.
She gently pulled herself free, and sensation returned to the leg. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see the outline of the woman's back. She pulled herself up on an elbow, so that she could see the woman's face.
She looked at the alarm. 4:46. The clock was set for five.
She gazed at the woman sleeping beside her; a nightshirt that would have been loose fitting on most other women barely gave her companion a few centimeters of slack. The sleeves and neck of the nightshirt had been ripped slightly so that they would not constrict her while she slept.
Jun certainly had well-toned muscles. A life filled with physical activity had given her a body that seemed to exude strength. Despite this, her shape never suggested masculinity, never prompted the image of a steroid-pumped bodybuilder.
Erina traced Jun's arm with a finger, wondering at the sequence of events that brought them here.
Her memories began to drift, back into her past.
Erina Goldsmith had always been a solitary person – not by choice, but by circumstances of birth. In a homogenous society, she had the dubious fortune of being born half-American. Throughout her childhood, she had never really been able to understand why the other children mocked her, what was so unusual about the name Erina Goldsmith that invited ridicule. She spoke the same language as everyone else; what made her so different? Even though her grandmother had tried to explain it to her, for a young girl the reasons never made sense (not that she entirely understood them now, she thought), or at least enough sense to explain why everyone seemed to want to hurt her. The lack of friends hurt more, as she had no one even to confide in.
She began to learn martial arts at the insistence of her grandmother; if she could not make friends, she could at least keep those that were hostile at a respectable distance. Erina found that classes were the most anticipated part of her day. Not so much because she was able to defend herself, but as a distraction from the ostracism that seemed to denote most of her day.
While it might have become bearable – somewhat – it had not abated.
And it continued through her teenage years; it merely took a different guise.
In middle school, she found that little had changed, for all the presumed 'maturity' of the older students. Not all of the students (and faculty, for that matter) were hostile to her; however, enough of them were that she rapidly became as distant from her peers as she was in her younger days. And if she was able to defend herself from nearly any physical attacks, she had still to endure the verbal ones. Groups of boys speaking in tones that were either jeering or leering. Groups of girls whispering and pointing to her, comments she could not hear, but were no less painful for that. Sometimes, they would speak in a louder voice, to each other, but with just enough volume to reach her ears.
And she pretended not to hear; she kept on her way as if no one had spoken.
It still hurt.
However, in the martial arts, she could now change unhappiness and frustration into power and growth. She fought and trained in her dojo with an intensity the rest of the students were unable to match.
She began to gain their respect, even if that respect was given reluctantly.
Her skills eventually sharpened to the point where she was able to reach within herself, using her sorrow and rage to release an energy attack which burned all who stood in its path.
But she did not use it then, against the verbal snipes, the whispering, the snubs. She kept control of herself, with the newfound reassurance her skills gave her. Even without energy attacks, she was still capable of defeating nearly anyone who might oppose her.
She was in her third year of middle school when one day, a girl she had a passing acquaintance with told her of a party being held that night. A small affair, the girl said, for some of the upperclassmen. If Erina wanted, she could attend. She was so surprised at the invitation that she did not think to wonder why it had come so suddenly; the girl who had given her the news had always been civil to her, and if she was distant, she was that way to everyone. In retrospect, Erina would say she found the concept of being accepted too attractive for her to probe for any ulterior motives.
She had no trouble at the door of the dorm, either. The same girl that had given her the invitation now stood besides a boy, apparently running over a checklist of names; they waved her through almost without looking. It was only when she had entered the dorm where it was being held that she began to worry. She had just gotten a few feet into the room when a group of students began to close around her.
The girl who had invited her was now nowhere in sight. A look around showed that no other girls were in the room.
The boys were jeering among themselves, pointing at her.
And the mocking, the laughing, the insults began again, a sea of faces cursing her for thinking they would ever want anything to do with her…
Now, however, two of them began to move closer, pulling at her vest, groping at her.
Some of the others screwed up their faces in disdain; they did not move to halt their roommates, however.
She stood there for a few seconds, the shock from their actions and the realization that she was once again the object of malice immobilizing her for a few seconds.
When the pair that were groping her saw the horrified expression on her face, they began to grope her even more blatantly.
That was when she struck one of them; he fell against another boy who was back in the cluster, before both of them collapsed to the floor.
The laughing stopped.
Now the room filled with shouts of surprise and indignation. They called for revenge on this presumptuous woman who dared challenge them. They began to advance on her, slowly, in ones and twos.
The rage within her came to the surface. Years of anguish and hurt seemed to run past in seconds, concentrating at a single point.
A whirlwind cut through the room, a blur a hands and feet, bodies flying into the wall or falling to the floor. They surrounded her, tried to hit her, but she was unstoppable, a dam no longer able to hold back the flood of emotions kept silent for years. Some of them picked up random objects to use as weapons; it helped them not at all. One swung a chain at her; a second later, the chain was in her hand, and he had a broken arm and a concussion.
And she struck them again and again until there was no one to insult her, mock her, grope her. Those who were not unconscious were fleeing as if for their lives.
She knelt over the bruised, battered shapes, over these who represented all that had hurt her in the past…
And she smiled unpleasantly, an almost feral smile, devoid of compassion.
From now on she would be no one's prey.
News of the incident spread rapidly, although many of the specifics were altered or omitted. Enough of the facts got through to the headmasters to make it clear that Erina was not responsible for initiating the fight; but with the potential embarrassment to the school (not to mention the parents of the students involved), they were certainly not going to inconvenience so many others for *her* sake.
Erina was thus asked to transfer out (not an expulsion, they said, of course not that). With her grandmother ailing, she had to put any thoughts of classes on hold. In time, she found employment as a waitress, where most of her pay went to support her grandmother, who had flown to America for treatment.
But Erina had changed. No longer the withdrawn child of several years ago, she now dominated any area she inhabited. If there were those who still objected to her heritage, they did not speak of it within sight of her. Or if they did, they soon learned the magnitude of their error. And if they did not exactly respect her, they allowed her to go about her affairs in peace – and that was enough.
Or so she thought.
Now, looking at the raven haired woman sleeping peacefully in front of her, she knew it was not enough. In all the time she had spent – essentially alone – she never really given much thought to intimacy. There had been times when she would see couples pass by her, and look wistfully after them, but she had always purged such
nonsense from her head – obviously no one would ever think of her in that way, so why dwell on it?
But, to her astonishment, someone did.
The feeling it gave her was mixed. On one hand, her heart soared as never before. But with her memories of so many years of rejection, a cynical part of her would always doubt that life could at last treat her so well. Perhaps the reason that she was able to trust in her relationship was that in Jun, she found someone who had her own share of rejection, even if from different causes.
She remembered the stories Jun had told of her own experiences.
Jun Kubota had always been boisterous. The fourth of five children, she learned early on that to get noticed, you had to speak up. Two older brothers had taught her the necessity of being able to defend your possessions (specifically, your share of the food; but in general anything you had which your siblings might take an interest in). She naturally gravitated to physical activity, and took part in several athletic events in her youth.
It wasn't until she reached adolescence that the trouble began.
All the girls had to cope with the spastic, unwieldy growth that announced their impending maturity; but in Erina's case it was not that she grew so much as that she grew more than everyone else. A few months into puberty, she towered over her gym squad; even the coach was barely a head taller.
Additionally, her frame grew overall, giving her a build that was massive in comparison to the other girls. At a glance, one could tell if she was on the field. She became the focus of any team she was on, a fearsome sight to any opponent.
That was about the time she became known as 'the Bear'. Usually the term applied to her strength; but it was often used to refer to her classmates opinion of her as a person overall: Overly large, dimwitted, and brutish.
She also became the center of attention off the field. Often unable to fit most of the clothes and furniture designed for girls her age, she soon found that standing out could be undesirable.
She had been reprimanded a few times for fighting, a result of someone speaking too loudly within earshot. What had saved her was her sports record. Her athletic abilities not only exonerated her, they became a valve to release her aggression. As the insults began to come more often, and with more malice, she began to play more roughly.
However, puberty had not yet finished with her. Just when she had learned to live with her exceptional size, she began to grow again. Not up – but out. Gym shirts that could barely accommodate her height now became embarrassingly, prominently tight in front.
If she found the comments irritating before, now they were infuriating. Even when her outfits (now custom) fit reasonably well, they did not completely hide her shape. From jealous teammates to leering groups of boys, at times it seemed as if there was no other subject but her 'overly generous figure'.
Jun did have a few friends; not many, but there were some who she could vent to, or just go places with. As she herself had said, that was most likely the reason she hadn't gone berserk a long time ago.
But even in the company of her few friends, she always drew stares – from drooling boys, goggling older men, disapproving housewives. Occasionally, someone would try to fondle her. A few fractures and bruises visited on the offender put an end to that – but then she would be in trouble for fighting. However, it wasn't the few that tried to grope her; it was the attitude that people in general had of her that really hurt (even though she would never have admitted it). To most, her buxom shape and noisy manner defined her as an uncultured girl, devoid of manners or morals. The fact that she was a fighter by circumstance, and one who had acquired a fondness for beer (in oversized mugs, at that), only proved it.
Romantic involvement had been a foreign idea to Jun for most of her life. The primary reason for this was the perception that most men had of her; not so much a woman as a sexual curiosity. They were obsessed with her body, but at the same time intimidated by it. She was a brief tryst, not someone you got serious about, and *definitely* not someone you married. You sat down next to her, got her a few beers, had a wild night in your bedroom – but no more than that. The next day, you got to boast to your friends that you had tamed the Bear, and you moved on to find a *real* girl. Someone you could bring to meet your friends, who you didn't object being seen in public with, who didn't…*tower* over you so much.
Erina herself had heard comments like that about Jun from patrons in her restaurant. While such incidences were infrequent, there were times she had to restrain herself from physically displaying her irritation to the speakers. She knew Jun was nothing like the woman they spoke so disparagingly of, which made the comments about her even more irritating. Erina could see, even if Jun did not display it publicly, that she found the insults as painful as those Erina had once endured.
//Perhaps that's why we get along so well now//, Erina thought, returning to the present. As two women who had spent most of their lives on the outside, they had eventually (inevitably?) bonded. And if learning to trust each other was a slow process, that they could bring themselves to try spoke volumes about their affection.
And despite their being competitors in VG, their eagerness for fighting, they weren't really violent; fighting was merely their way of coping with a world that seemed to miss no chance to tell them that it had no use for them.
Erina glanced at the clock. There were just a few minutes before the alarm went off.
Her head went back to the pillow, then gently nuzzled against Jun's. Her right arm went around Jun's waist, cradling her. For Erina, this was what she had waited so long for, almost so long that she doubted it would ever happen. It never failed to surprise her that this felt every ounce as wonderful as she had imagined. That she could be able to feel the peaks and valleys of falling in love as any other woman could.
A stray thought entered her head. //And it doesn't hurt that Jun is such a passionate lover.//
Erina blushed at that. While it was true that Jun still had to learn finesse, her affection was undeniable. Erina smiled as she thought of Jun's 'Bonecrusher', a steel grip on an opponent that had ended several of her VG matches. However, Jun also had another variant of the 'Bonecrusher', one that only Erina knew of – an amorous squeeze that gave Erina sore arms, made her gasp for breath…and was usually the high point of her day.
She wondered idly if Jun's passion sprang from the same source as her own, from finally being able to have someone who cared about you, finally being able to care about them, after having all but given up on ever finding romance.
She decided that it didn't matter where the passion came from; only that it was there.
She felt a shifting in the bed as Jun began to stir.
"Sorry, did I get you up? I didn't want to…"
"No," Jun said, "sometimes I just wake up a few minutes early."
"What's wrong? You sound sad."
"Yeah, don't worry about it. It's nothing."
From the sound in Jun's voice, she was trying to reassure Erina. For a second she thought of allowing the matter to drop, then decided against it.
"You *can* tell me, you know. That was the point of this relationship, right? One of us listens when the other has troubles. Share the ups and downs. You're cheerful, I'm cheerful; you hurt, I hurt."
Erina's voice became soft, but insistent. "So what's wrong?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Jun's face. "It's just that…usually when I got up early, I'd have this feeling of…melancholy, I suppose you'd call it. I'd pretty much gotten used to the fact that I would be alone, but early in the morning, I'd get wistful sometimes, hoping that it would be different."
"But it is different. *I'm* here now."
"I know, but I haven't gotten used to having someone here…with me…that is…"
Jun's voice trailed off. "Shouldn't have said anything. I must sound like –"
"Sound like what? Someone who's scared? Sound like someone who thinks they're going to wake up and find out they've only been dreaming that someone likes them, and they're back in reality where no one wants anything to do with them?"
Jun eyes widened with astonishment. "How – how did you know?"
"Because I get the same feelings. That you – that this is going to disappear, that I'll be –"
Erina halted briefly, unable to continue. Finally, she spoke again.
"That I'll be…like I was before."
Jun turned to face Erina. "I didn't know you had those kind of thoughts as well." Her expression became steely. "But I won't disappear on you. I swear. And Jun Kubota keeps her word."
"Thank you for reassuring me. It does mean a lot," Erina whispered. She reached over and took Jun's hand. "And I'm not going to leave you either. I'll stay as long as you want."
She was surprised to see Jun's expression turn to one of – not exactly fear, but not far from it. Then her expression changed to one that Erina had never thought to see.
Vulnerability.
What was more, she was making no effort to conceal it. For Jun, that was unheard of. Erina began to realize how much faith Jun had in her; she would have allowed few to see her weaknesses.
Jun squeezed her hand before she spoke. "Are you serious? That is…I mean, I might ask you to stay a long time."
"Go ahead."
Instead of speaking, Jun pulled Erina against her.
"You make it so difficult, you know…to get out of bed."
Jun laughed. "Your point?"
"My point is that the alarm is about to go off any second now, and we'll have to get going."
Jun reached over to turn off the alarm.
Erina sighed. "That doesn't change anything. You still have to get out of bed."
"Oh, alright. But you wait. One weekend, I'm going to carry you off to an island, with no alarms, moonlight shining on the sea and balmy breezes. And we'll wade out into the water until it's waist-high and make love all night."
Erina stared at Jun in shock, even as her face went crimson.
Jun winked. "Who says I can't be romantic?"
Erina blinked twice, then slowly pressed her mouth to Erina's. "You'll never hear it from me. No backing out on that island, though."
Jun reached around Erina's waist in a gentle embrace.
"As I said, Jun Kubota keeps her word."
00 –
Notes: Erina's story was basically the flashbacks from the OAV, with some specifics put in. As for Jun, I had to come up with a viable past for her, based on her character. At minimum, one could assume that she *might* have come from a background such as this. As always, comments about the style and effectiveness of my writing are welcome (and as always, this does not include flames, which tell me nothing about what I'm doing wrong.
4.46
by Vosburg
Disclaimer: If you believe I own Variable Geo, have I got
a bridge to sell you.
Note: In this story, there is prominent mention of two women
in a long term relationship. If you are not disposed to read such,
well, nobody's holding a gun to your head.
She was awakened by the pressure on her leg. After a few seconds of confusion, she found that the pressure came not from her other leg, but from the other occupant of the bed.
She gently pulled herself free, and sensation returned to the leg. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see the outline of the woman's back. She pulled herself up on an elbow, so that she could see the woman's face.
She looked at the alarm. 4:46. The clock was set for five.
She gazed at the woman sleeping beside her; a nightshirt that would have been loose fitting on most other women barely gave her companion a few centimeters of slack. The sleeves and neck of the nightshirt had been ripped slightly so that they would not constrict her while she slept.
Jun certainly had well-toned muscles. A life filled with physical activity had given her a body that seemed to exude strength. Despite this, her shape never suggested masculinity, never prompted the image of a steroid-pumped bodybuilder.
Erina traced Jun's arm with a finger, wondering at the sequence of events that brought them here.
Her memories began to drift, back into her past.
Erina Goldsmith had always been a solitary person – not by choice, but by circumstances of birth. In a homogenous society, she had the dubious fortune of being born half-American. Throughout her childhood, she had never really been able to understand why the other children mocked her, what was so unusual about the name Erina Goldsmith that invited ridicule. She spoke the same language as everyone else; what made her so different? Even though her grandmother had tried to explain it to her, for a young girl the reasons never made sense (not that she entirely understood them now, she thought), or at least enough sense to explain why everyone seemed to want to hurt her. The lack of friends hurt more, as she had no one even to confide in.
She began to learn martial arts at the insistence of her grandmother; if she could not make friends, she could at least keep those that were hostile at a respectable distance. Erina found that classes were the most anticipated part of her day. Not so much because she was able to defend herself, but as a distraction from the ostracism that seemed to denote most of her day.
While it might have become bearable – somewhat – it had not abated.
And it continued through her teenage years; it merely took a different guise.
In middle school, she found that little had changed, for all the presumed 'maturity' of the older students. Not all of the students (and faculty, for that matter) were hostile to her; however, enough of them were that she rapidly became as distant from her peers as she was in her younger days. And if she was able to defend herself from nearly any physical attacks, she had still to endure the verbal ones. Groups of boys speaking in tones that were either jeering or leering. Groups of girls whispering and pointing to her, comments she could not hear, but were no less painful for that. Sometimes, they would speak in a louder voice, to each other, but with just enough volume to reach her ears.
And she pretended not to hear; she kept on her way as if no one had spoken.
It still hurt.
However, in the martial arts, she could now change unhappiness and frustration into power and growth. She fought and trained in her dojo with an intensity the rest of the students were unable to match.
She began to gain their respect, even if that respect was given reluctantly.
Her skills eventually sharpened to the point where she was able to reach within herself, using her sorrow and rage to release an energy attack which burned all who stood in its path.
But she did not use it then, against the verbal snipes, the whispering, the snubs. She kept control of herself, with the newfound reassurance her skills gave her. Even without energy attacks, she was still capable of defeating nearly anyone who might oppose her.
She was in her third year of middle school when one day, a girl she had a passing acquaintance with told her of a party being held that night. A small affair, the girl said, for some of the upperclassmen. If Erina wanted, she could attend. She was so surprised at the invitation that she did not think to wonder why it had come so suddenly; the girl who had given her the news had always been civil to her, and if she was distant, she was that way to everyone. In retrospect, Erina would say she found the concept of being accepted too attractive for her to probe for any ulterior motives.
She had no trouble at the door of the dorm, either. The same girl that had given her the invitation now stood besides a boy, apparently running over a checklist of names; they waved her through almost without looking. It was only when she had entered the dorm where it was being held that she began to worry. She had just gotten a few feet into the room when a group of students began to close around her.
The girl who had invited her was now nowhere in sight. A look around showed that no other girls were in the room.
The boys were jeering among themselves, pointing at her.
And the mocking, the laughing, the insults began again, a sea of faces cursing her for thinking they would ever want anything to do with her…
Now, however, two of them began to move closer, pulling at her vest, groping at her.
Some of the others screwed up their faces in disdain; they did not move to halt their roommates, however.
She stood there for a few seconds, the shock from their actions and the realization that she was once again the object of malice immobilizing her for a few seconds.
When the pair that were groping her saw the horrified expression on her face, they began to grope her even more blatantly.
That was when she struck one of them; he fell against another boy who was back in the cluster, before both of them collapsed to the floor.
The laughing stopped.
Now the room filled with shouts of surprise and indignation. They called for revenge on this presumptuous woman who dared challenge them. They began to advance on her, slowly, in ones and twos.
The rage within her came to the surface. Years of anguish and hurt seemed to run past in seconds, concentrating at a single point.
A whirlwind cut through the room, a blur a hands and feet, bodies flying into the wall or falling to the floor. They surrounded her, tried to hit her, but she was unstoppable, a dam no longer able to hold back the flood of emotions kept silent for years. Some of them picked up random objects to use as weapons; it helped them not at all. One swung a chain at her; a second later, the chain was in her hand, and he had a broken arm and a concussion.
And she struck them again and again until there was no one to insult her, mock her, grope her. Those who were not unconscious were fleeing as if for their lives.
She knelt over the bruised, battered shapes, over these who represented all that had hurt her in the past…
And she smiled unpleasantly, an almost feral smile, devoid of compassion.
From now on she would be no one's prey.
News of the incident spread rapidly, although many of the specifics were altered or omitted. Enough of the facts got through to the headmasters to make it clear that Erina was not responsible for initiating the fight; but with the potential embarrassment to the school (not to mention the parents of the students involved), they were certainly not going to inconvenience so many others for *her* sake.
Erina was thus asked to transfer out (not an expulsion, they said, of course not that). With her grandmother ailing, she had to put any thoughts of classes on hold. In time, she found employment as a waitress, where most of her pay went to support her grandmother, who had flown to America for treatment.
But Erina had changed. No longer the withdrawn child of several years ago, she now dominated any area she inhabited. If there were those who still objected to her heritage, they did not speak of it within sight of her. Or if they did, they soon learned the magnitude of their error. And if they did not exactly respect her, they allowed her to go about her affairs in peace – and that was enough.
Or so she thought.
Now, looking at the raven haired woman sleeping peacefully in front of her, she knew it was not enough. In all the time she had spent – essentially alone – she never really given much thought to intimacy. There had been times when she would see couples pass by her, and look wistfully after them, but she had always purged such
nonsense from her head – obviously no one would ever think of her in that way, so why dwell on it?
But, to her astonishment, someone did.
The feeling it gave her was mixed. On one hand, her heart soared as never before. But with her memories of so many years of rejection, a cynical part of her would always doubt that life could at last treat her so well. Perhaps the reason that she was able to trust in her relationship was that in Jun, she found someone who had her own share of rejection, even if from different causes.
She remembered the stories Jun had told of her own experiences.
Jun Kubota had always been boisterous. The fourth of five children, she learned early on that to get noticed, you had to speak up. Two older brothers had taught her the necessity of being able to defend your possessions (specifically, your share of the food; but in general anything you had which your siblings might take an interest in). She naturally gravitated to physical activity, and took part in several athletic events in her youth.
It wasn't until she reached adolescence that the trouble began.
All the girls had to cope with the spastic, unwieldy growth that announced their impending maturity; but in Erina's case it was not that she grew so much as that she grew more than everyone else. A few months into puberty, she towered over her gym squad; even the coach was barely a head taller.
Additionally, her frame grew overall, giving her a build that was massive in comparison to the other girls. At a glance, one could tell if she was on the field. She became the focus of any team she was on, a fearsome sight to any opponent.
That was about the time she became known as 'the Bear'. Usually the term applied to her strength; but it was often used to refer to her classmates opinion of her as a person overall: Overly large, dimwitted, and brutish.
She also became the center of attention off the field. Often unable to fit most of the clothes and furniture designed for girls her age, she soon found that standing out could be undesirable.
She had been reprimanded a few times for fighting, a result of someone speaking too loudly within earshot. What had saved her was her sports record. Her athletic abilities not only exonerated her, they became a valve to release her aggression. As the insults began to come more often, and with more malice, she began to play more roughly.
However, puberty had not yet finished with her. Just when she had learned to live with her exceptional size, she began to grow again. Not up – but out. Gym shirts that could barely accommodate her height now became embarrassingly, prominently tight in front.
If she found the comments irritating before, now they were infuriating. Even when her outfits (now custom) fit reasonably well, they did not completely hide her shape. From jealous teammates to leering groups of boys, at times it seemed as if there was no other subject but her 'overly generous figure'.
Jun did have a few friends; not many, but there were some who she could vent to, or just go places with. As she herself had said, that was most likely the reason she hadn't gone berserk a long time ago.
But even in the company of her few friends, she always drew stares – from drooling boys, goggling older men, disapproving housewives. Occasionally, someone would try to fondle her. A few fractures and bruises visited on the offender put an end to that – but then she would be in trouble for fighting. However, it wasn't the few that tried to grope her; it was the attitude that people in general had of her that really hurt (even though she would never have admitted it). To most, her buxom shape and noisy manner defined her as an uncultured girl, devoid of manners or morals. The fact that she was a fighter by circumstance, and one who had acquired a fondness for beer (in oversized mugs, at that), only proved it.
Romantic involvement had been a foreign idea to Jun for most of her life. The primary reason for this was the perception that most men had of her; not so much a woman as a sexual curiosity. They were obsessed with her body, but at the same time intimidated by it. She was a brief tryst, not someone you got serious about, and *definitely* not someone you married. You sat down next to her, got her a few beers, had a wild night in your bedroom – but no more than that. The next day, you got to boast to your friends that you had tamed the Bear, and you moved on to find a *real* girl. Someone you could bring to meet your friends, who you didn't object being seen in public with, who didn't…*tower* over you so much.
Erina herself had heard comments like that about Jun from patrons in her restaurant. While such incidences were infrequent, there were times she had to restrain herself from physically displaying her irritation to the speakers. She knew Jun was nothing like the woman they spoke so disparagingly of, which made the comments about her even more irritating. Erina could see, even if Jun did not display it publicly, that she found the insults as painful as those Erina had once endured.
//Perhaps that's why we get along so well now//, Erina thought, returning to the present. As two women who had spent most of their lives on the outside, they had eventually (inevitably?) bonded. And if learning to trust each other was a slow process, that they could bring themselves to try spoke volumes about their affection.
And despite their being competitors in VG, their eagerness for fighting, they weren't really violent; fighting was merely their way of coping with a world that seemed to miss no chance to tell them that it had no use for them.
Erina glanced at the clock. There were just a few minutes before the alarm went off.
Her head went back to the pillow, then gently nuzzled against Jun's. Her right arm went around Jun's waist, cradling her. For Erina, this was what she had waited so long for, almost so long that she doubted it would ever happen. It never failed to surprise her that this felt every ounce as wonderful as she had imagined. That she could be able to feel the peaks and valleys of falling in love as any other woman could.
A stray thought entered her head. //And it doesn't hurt that Jun is such a passionate lover.//
Erina blushed at that. While it was true that Jun still had to learn finesse, her affection was undeniable. Erina smiled as she thought of Jun's 'Bonecrusher', a steel grip on an opponent that had ended several of her VG matches. However, Jun also had another variant of the 'Bonecrusher', one that only Erina knew of – an amorous squeeze that gave Erina sore arms, made her gasp for breath…and was usually the high point of her day.
She wondered idly if Jun's passion sprang from the same source as her own, from finally being able to have someone who cared about you, finally being able to care about them, after having all but given up on ever finding romance.
She decided that it didn't matter where the passion came from; only that it was there.
She felt a shifting in the bed as Jun began to stir.
"Sorry, did I get you up? I didn't want to…"
"No," Jun said, "sometimes I just wake up a few minutes early."
"What's wrong? You sound sad."
"Yeah, don't worry about it. It's nothing."
From the sound in Jun's voice, she was trying to reassure Erina. For a second she thought of allowing the matter to drop, then decided against it.
"You *can* tell me, you know. That was the point of this relationship, right? One of us listens when the other has troubles. Share the ups and downs. You're cheerful, I'm cheerful; you hurt, I hurt."
Erina's voice became soft, but insistent. "So what's wrong?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Jun's face. "It's just that…usually when I got up early, I'd have this feeling of…melancholy, I suppose you'd call it. I'd pretty much gotten used to the fact that I would be alone, but early in the morning, I'd get wistful sometimes, hoping that it would be different."
"But it is different. *I'm* here now."
"I know, but I haven't gotten used to having someone here…with me…that is…"
Jun's voice trailed off. "Shouldn't have said anything. I must sound like –"
"Sound like what? Someone who's scared? Sound like someone who thinks they're going to wake up and find out they've only been dreaming that someone likes them, and they're back in reality where no one wants anything to do with them?"
Jun eyes widened with astonishment. "How – how did you know?"
"Because I get the same feelings. That you – that this is going to disappear, that I'll be –"
Erina halted briefly, unable to continue. Finally, she spoke again.
"That I'll be…like I was before."
Jun turned to face Erina. "I didn't know you had those kind of thoughts as well." Her expression became steely. "But I won't disappear on you. I swear. And Jun Kubota keeps her word."
"Thank you for reassuring me. It does mean a lot," Erina whispered. She reached over and took Jun's hand. "And I'm not going to leave you either. I'll stay as long as you want."
She was surprised to see Jun's expression turn to one of – not exactly fear, but not far from it. Then her expression changed to one that Erina had never thought to see.
Vulnerability.
What was more, she was making no effort to conceal it. For Jun, that was unheard of. Erina began to realize how much faith Jun had in her; she would have allowed few to see her weaknesses.
Jun squeezed her hand before she spoke. "Are you serious? That is…I mean, I might ask you to stay a long time."
"Go ahead."
Instead of speaking, Jun pulled Erina against her.
"You make it so difficult, you know…to get out of bed."
Jun laughed. "Your point?"
"My point is that the alarm is about to go off any second now, and we'll have to get going."
Jun reached over to turn off the alarm.
Erina sighed. "That doesn't change anything. You still have to get out of bed."
"Oh, alright. But you wait. One weekend, I'm going to carry you off to an island, with no alarms, moonlight shining on the sea and balmy breezes. And we'll wade out into the water until it's waist-high and make love all night."
Erina stared at Jun in shock, even as her face went crimson.
Jun winked. "Who says I can't be romantic?"
Erina blinked twice, then slowly pressed her mouth to Erina's. "You'll never hear it from me. No backing out on that island, though."
Jun reached around Erina's waist in a gentle embrace.
"As I said, Jun Kubota keeps her word."
00 –
Notes: Erina's story was basically the flashbacks from the OAV, with some specifics put in. As for Jun, I had to come up with a viable past for her, based on her character. At minimum, one could assume that she *might* have come from a background such as this. As always, comments about the style and effectiveness of my writing are welcome (and as always, this does not include flames, which tell me nothing about what I'm doing wrong.