December 14, 2027. The day is over, and Haruna and I are cuddling in bed. Her launch day was celebrated to the best of our abilities, given the lingering postwar shortages and the general state of disrepair the San Francisco refugee area is in. It has been challenging, governing the area and directing rebuilding efforts on top of raising our infant daughter who is asleep in another room, and it really deserves its own story, but that is not what this is about. What matters now are these tender moments between us, ephemeral moments of tranquility in which we find ourselves falling in love with each other again and again. We see each other's strengths, we forgive each other's mistakes, and in spite of each other's flaws we keep finding new reasons to love each other more and more.

Between the tender touches and nuzzling, Haruna asks meekly: "Hansi, who was she?"

"Who?" I reply, puzzled.

"That woman in that dream. You never really told Haruna who she was, but yet, she seemed too real." I sense no jealousy in her voice.

"Truth be told, I would also like to know," I lament, "there were girls in the academy, none of whom I had any specific interest for, and there was certainly no Beatrice Emilia Vandenberg."

"But why did you describe her as being very similar to Ooyodo? It's not like she was directly in there with you."

Ah, I hear that complex mix of emotions wrapped up in a thin saccharine veneer creeping in. My darling can get very defensive at times, and that is what makes her so cute.

"I legitimately have no idea whatsoever. The dream state is a weird thing and is both objective reality and a blank canvas upon which we can bring our deepest fantasies to life. What is real and what is fake is almost impossible to discern."

My gaze, which was affixed at some nondescript point in the distance, focuses back onto Haruna. Her hazel eyes look blankly into mine, her smile thin and strained. I guess she isn't fully satisfied with the answer.

"I remember something else though. There was this other dream immediately before that one. It was about me, or rather, someone I thought was me. He may even be me for all I know, a me from another reality. I saw his name; I do not remember it, but it was almost like a corruption of mine. Or is mine a corruption of his? I don't know, this is just weird. But back to the point, I don't know who this Beatrice woman is, but I think he knows. I don't think that is her real name, but I do think that is what she does indeed looks like."

I look back at Haruna. In her eyes I see emotions battling each other, but curiousity seems to be winning out.

"As to why she appeared the way she did, I don't know. Did alternate me like this woman? It would be interesting if it were the case..."

Ah, I think I may have said something wrong...

"I mean, as much as I suspect he is me and I am him, I am not him. I am me; I am here in bed with the only woman I have ever loved, the mother of my child, the light of my life," I clutch both her hands in mine as I skootch closer.

"The concept of shipgirls, especially the coexistence of Blue Path and Flottesammlung units, is evidence of parallel universes capable of influencing each other. How many times have weird things happened out of coincidence, or I daresay, convenience? How many times have you stepped back and wondered if whatever is unfolding is an obscure reference to something that never happened in our world? For all I know, our reality may be a sick delusion he plays out to escape his own shitty existence, heartbreak included, but that does not make this reality any less real, at least to me," I monologue while nuzzling Haruna. I feel her leg wrapping slowly around mine under the sheets.

"Haruna...Haruna understands," she purrs, "Haruna understands." She pulls back gently, cocking her head ever so slightly. We study each other's expressions, and I see in her eyes the dancing of thoughts and emotions, many of which can never be put into words. Instead it is through the subtle touches, gentle strokes, fluttering gazes, and melancholic smiles that we pour forth the feelings from our subconscious.

Soon I find Haruna's naked body pressed against mine. She rolls on top of me, straddling me, the covers draped over her shoulders.

"Say, Hansi, does the other you give us his blessing?" she asks with a coy smile while I admire her physique.

"I have a feeling he would..." I mumble as I pull her in, just as I have done countless times before.

And to hell with it if he doesn't.