UMI

Honoka Kousaka was a brash 19 year old who forgot to wash her face every night. She was acidic and bright. Each article of clothing, each word, each gesture, invited attention. Honoka was messy, and loud, and could not be ignored.

The older woman in Ohio, sitting at the sparse kitchen table with downcast eyes, was someone else. She wore Honoka's face, and had retained some of her gestures. Their voices had the same general sound. But she held none of Honoka's garish energy. The woman was quiet, as if she were keeping Honoka's essence submerged. She wore a plain white dress and a long grey jacket. Even her skin was different. This woman had a dewy clean glow to her cheeks, whereas Honoka was always covering up some blemish or another before performances.

Honoka Kousaka did not have a skincare routine and she did not wear business casual neutrals in the sanctity of her own home.

Umi adjusted her holster; the material irritated her skin and made her sweat. Her old holster and gun had been discarded at the hospital, and she'd had to make due with Mary's castoffs. It was a pink camouflage holster.

The kitchen was a cramped space with only a sliver of counter; with the table taking up most of the floor. Grey and jade tiles. The windows had no curtains and only showed the darkened parking lot of the tractor supply store. There was a single adornment to the room, a clock, avocado-millennial green. The hands did not move, but remained fixed at six o'clock.

/

"Did you mean it about the timeline being moved up?" Umi had asked Mary on the plane, not 3 hours ago before. "Or was that something you were saying to pressure that kid back in New York?"

"No, I meant it. They emailed you a memo about it. I'm guessing you didn't see it."

Umi sniffed, but she knew she deserved it. Her attention to detail -and interest in checking her email - had slipped during the time she'd been recovering from the assault. "What happened?"

"There was another major temporal anomaly in Japan. Bigger than the one in New York. That one was localized to a specific set of places; apparently the event in Japan caused a major accident. There were a lot of deaths."

A quiver went through Umi's heart. What could have possibly happened?

Umi's phone buzzed in her jean pocket. Kotori. She didn't open it.

"We're not the only ones working on this, of your ex-idol group is embroidered into this phenomena, somehow, in a way I truly don't understand."

/

"I'm steeping some tea." Other Honoka said. Her voice was different. There was an American sharpness to her words now, but there was also a silence. A resignation.

Mary smiled. "Thank you, Ms…Kousaka? I'm Mary, by the way."

"Hello, Mary. I call myself something else here. I can't go by Honoka Kousaka, for obvious reasons. However." She sighed. "You can call me Honoka, for now."

"Okay, Honoka. What kind of tea did you make?"

"It's a white oolong mix."

Temper pricked her skin. This was pointless; she hadn't travelled for hours with a strange woman just to talk about tea.

"Delicious! I like a nice earl grey myself."

"Enough with this small talk!" Umi stood up. Her hands slapped the table, making Mary and Other Honoka jolt. "Who are you? What are you? Explain what is going on, right now."

"Umi…"

"It's okay, Mary. I understand." She looked so sad. "I'll show her."

Other Honoka took Umi's hand. "I can understand why Umi would be upset. I am not supposed to exist here, after all."

There was a brief flash.

A tingling went through Umi; her vision went black and she felt as if she were about to faint. She sat down and shut her eyes. The world spun around her. Her head reached the table

/

When Umi awoke, Other Honoka and Mary were staring down at her.

"What on earth did you do to me?"

Other Honoka's grave, flawless face fell. "You've seen my curse. And my mistake. Check your phone, and then check Mary's."

Umi opened her phone. 9:25. The message from Kotori. I know.

Cold anxiety rushed through Umi. Kotori knew? What did she know? Kotori never texted her like that - she always added cute emoticons and little phrases of affection. Did she find out about Umi's job? Eli?

"Okay. 9:25. What of it?"

"Mary, check your phone."

Mary's eyes widened. "9:45. Holy shit."

"So our phones are a little out of sync, what of it?"

Other Honoka laughed; not with the bright chiming giggle of the Honoka Umi knew, but a low humorless exhale. "Do you want me to do it again? I can't control how far I send anything, so be careful."

There was a screech.

Everyone jumped. Umi turned her head towards the open window; a featureless dark car had pulled into the parking lot. Mary hunched over, hands on her back like she was about to pull her gun.

Other Honoka sprung up to close the window.

Mary took her hands off her hidden gun, but remained tense. "Assholes... I'll take that tea now, Honoka."

Other Honoka looked equally worried. "Good idea. Umi, please get some cups from the cabinet. Why don't we move to my room?"

Other Honoka poured tea into chipped floral mugs as Umi and Mary found pillows to sit on. Umi grabbed a pale pink body pillow. As a child, Umi had taken a few tea ceremony lessons to please her parents, before it was made clear that she'd excelled in archery above all else. Honoka and Kotori had tagged along. The memory of Honoka breaking the sacred tea cups that had been crafted in 1890 still made Umi cringe. In contrast, Other Honoka had prepared their drinks with a solemn ceremonial posture.

Other Honoka handed Mary a steaming cup. Umi could smell the light bright scent.

The image of Honoka sitting in an elegant posture in a minimalist bedroom was wrong. White walls, a box lamp, a single book on a bare shelf. There wasn't even a window. Honoka was not supposed to be this kind of woman. The only hint of her former life was a guitar propped on the plaster walls.

"Thank you, Honoka."

Other Honoka sighed. "I used to have a kintsugi tea cup set from… before. I had them made with a dear friend for our apartment. And now…" She looked down at her daisy-pattern mug. "And now I buy dishware from Goodwill."

Before? A dear friend? "Please, Honoka. You must tell us. What do you mean when you say before?"

"Umi, if you did not find anything notable about your phone being out of sync with Mary's, I doubt you would be prepared for my story." Other Honoka took a sip of her tea. Her lips were painted bright red, and they did not smear on the porcelain. "If you use physical force, I will tell you against my will, but I have little interest in telling a story to someone who does not believe me."

Mary glared at Umi as she drank her tea. Umi didn't care. "Prove it. Prove you're Honoka and not some stranger who looks like her."

"You've come all this way, to this nowhere town, and you still need proof? Surely you're aware of what's at stake. Surely you've read your PSIA reports on the New York incident. You know I've been left alone out of fear, not benevolence."

Umi's stomach clenched and heat rose to her face. "I just… need to know. Who you are. What you've experienced. If you're really the same as… my Honoka."

My Honoka. Kotori would have cried, if she heard what Umi just said. Kotori had wanted to be with Honoka so bad, and yet Umi had ended their relationship when things got sticky. But despite herself, Umi still desired the woman in front of her. And now Kotori knew.

"I'm not your Honoka, Umi. I don't belong to anyone in this world."

Silence fell on the group. Umi picked up her tea. The hot honeyed flavor was better than anything that Umi's Honoka had microwaved with a tea bag. Other Honoka, in her white dress and grey cardigan with her beautiful downcast eyes.

Mary finally spoke. "Well, you didn't tell Honoka that you're a PSIA agent."

Other Honoka smiled. "That is correct."

"So you must know that… from another time."

"That's not entirely correct; I have a few allies here. Limited, but allies. However, yes, I knew you as an elite PSIA agent from my time."

The reports were true.

The data on the USB drive Umi had taken was true. She still didn't believe it. But intellectually, she knew, as the reports kept telling her over and over, that this woman was truly the catalyst behind each strange incident in New York.

"We need to know what happened. How you came here, why you came here, what you're doing, how you're triggering it. How we can stop it." Mary said, finally.

Honoka put up her hand. "I'm only responsible for what happened in New York on the rare occasions that I have visited it. I've kept to myself since. There's been minor anomalies here in Ohio, but most of the locals are content to ignore it or attribute it to other sources."

"What do you mean? Aren't you how… all of the temporal anomalies are happening?"

"I opened a window when I arrived in New York. Or perhaps it is better to say I broke a window to come here. Time… slips in and out of the wound I created. That's why time behaves so strangely in New York, in the area where I landed."

Umi remembered the reports. Most recorded observations have been near Broadway, and several complaints have been made regarding the shows and show times. In one incident, a soprano showed up two hours late with no recollection of where she had been.

There was the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot outside. Umi shuddered.

"So you're not… making anything else strange happen?" Umi asked. "Not in Japan?"

"It's possible, when I interacted with my younger self, that she'd picked up brief temporal anomalies. But unless I'd somehow undone some quantum string by meeting with my younger self, the only temporal issues I'm causing are here in this apartment."

Umi continued. "And… how did you do any of this? You were a school idol. Your current… other… younger self was a school idol-turned traveling musician, now college student."

Honoka laughed. "Do you think I am capable of any of this? No. I used someone else's machine to get here. The device is not here, before you ask. I would have destroyed it long ago if it had come with me. I cannot give you details and I cannot tell you how it works beyond the most rudimentary mechanics."

Mary frowned. Umi wondered if she'd been hoping to get some kind of weapon. "I really don't understand why you did any of this.. What happened before you came here? Who were you, then?"

"I can't tell you that." Honoka shrunk into herself, hunching over. Anxiety covered her eyes. She looked… scared.

"Why not?"

Honoka looked at Umi. "Do you really want to know why I left behind my entire life to live in solitude in a one-room house in the middle of nowhere?"

Who had Honoka been? Who had Umi been, in this other world? "I…"

"It's better if you don't know."

Mary's hands glided under her jacket. Where Mary had put her holster. "You realize, Honoka, that this is a matter of national security?"

There was the shudder of a door being slammed open. Close. Too close...

"Yes, Mary Farrell, I'm aware your superiors believe this to be the case. That you need to hear my story. Are you going to force it out of me?"

"Of course not. I'm not that kind of agent."

"Then call your special operations friends off, and we'll talk. Or everyone here will be out of sync in a way that even you can't hide."

Mary picked up her phone. "Back down. For now."

Honoka cast her a wary eye. Her white hair made the rest of her face that much more pale, unhappy, threatening. Like a ghost. "For now?"

"Back. Retreat. We've got this." Mary put the phone down.

"What are you going to do with this information?" Honoka said.

"Build a super weapon. Erase past mistakes. Provide a cautionary tale to those who think they can break the universe at their whim."

"Well." Honoka didn't speak for a long time, and when she did her voice came out as a rasp. "You can break time as badly as you want. I don't care anymore. Let me finish my tea, and I'll tell you what happened."