What an exciting week this is turning out to be for our hapless hero.

CHAPTER 13: BEGINNING

Dammit, why the hell was he so nervous? Ataru had been asking himself that very question for the better part of Tuesday as he slaved over pages for the December issue of Chick-Star. Along with other unknowns such as 'what time would be best to call?' and the obvious 'how will it go?' Which was a broad question to be sure, as it covered a number of topics. At the top of that list was her possible reaction regarding his radio silence over the last four months. What should he say if backed into a corner and forced to explain? If he said anything other than 'I fucked up, sorry' she'd be furious (maybe even then, too). History had given him a metaphorical playbook of interactions with his erratic alien wife that lent confidence to these assumptions. Ataru knew if he didn't choose his words carefully the whole thing could blow up in his face. What to say was a daunting problem, never mind the others he'd thought up.

Worst of all he was expending all this effort on a conversation with himself that didn't even need to happen. It was already almost noon and he was still stuck on the same page, reading the same paragraphs over and over while miraculously retaining none of the words. Worrying this much over a simple phone call was insane! Then again, it wasn't just anybody he was calling. It was Lum, someone who made it her business to intrude on every aspect of his life. That realization brought on its heels several other observations, not the least of which were the inevitable adjustments to his weekly routine should she be injected back into the mix. He could say goodbye to those carefree weekends of cavorting with the women of Rokuyō. Going forward there would be an element of danger to every interaction. Life would be a lot like high school, then. Ataru sat with that idea in particular for a short while, trying to decide how he felt. In the confines of his own mind he could be honest with himself at least. And honestly, he wasn't so sure he hated the idea. Rather, he felt a begrudging acceptance of his days returning to the status quo as it was back then. Not as a bad thing, more as a course of life that he knew was inevitable.

Ataru's train of thought was interrupted by the grating buzz of the lunch bell, and he breathed a relieved sigh to know he'd finally have a break to thoroughly think things over. Seeing Lum again, having her back in his life, brought a lot of stipulations. Ataru wanted to take his time reviewing each one carefully.

Setting himself on Autopilot, he trialed his team to the lunchroom on the first floor and wordlessly selected the same order of tempura with rice and steamed vegetables he always ate. In his pensive state he even forgot to flirt with the (married) cashier, who seemed both puzzled and relieved by this oddity. Then, just as silently and none the wiser to the strange looks his peers and others cast his way, Ataru made for the back corner of the cafeteria to mull over his feelings further while staring vacantly out over the bustling city street, absently chewing his lunch. Autumn had settled in, bathing Rokuyō and the rest of the world in shades of auburn, brown, and sunset orange. Days were hauntingly quiet, the screech of evening cicadas replaced by gentle whispers of cold wind. A good atmosphere for weighing such heavy considerations – Ataru wasn't so far gone he couldn't appreciate natural ambiance.

In the stairwell after lunch Yamagata approached Ataru about his strange behavior, which he waved off as a personal matter not open to discussion. Naturally this peaked his sempai's curiosity, and at that point, Ataru's only course of action was to promise he'd tell all once the problem was resolved. Not really the outcome Yamagata hoped for, but he wasn't given to prying and dropped the subject with a mind to circle back once Ataru seemed to be in better sorts. And thus began his afternoon, passing in much the same way morning had – with a head full of hypotheses and very little work being done.

Evening snuck up on him like a bandit. Ataru nearly flew out of his own skin when the final buzzer rang and his coworkers began their routines of stretching, groaning, and gathering their things. Had he really wasted the entire day on this? An answer came in the form of the magazine page he'd been 'editing' since 7 AM staring back at him. What the hell was he doing with his day? This was no different than Friday night when he first tried getting in touch with Lum. He spent way too much time considering the outcome only to have all his predictions turn out wrong anyway. Not just that, but he'd also been given a cosmic slap in the face with the surprise of her unprecedented move away! Waiting never did him any good and worrying only served as a chopping block for his backbone. There was no time for Oishī, no time for excuses or explanations to anyone. It was in Ataru's best interest to go home at once and make the call immediately, before any more doubts had a chance to seep into his mind. The only thoughts he allowed to penetrate his consciousness were those of action – get home, take off his shoes, go to the phone, dial her number. Repeat.

Some thirty minutes later Ataru was opening the door to his dark apartment, his eyes at once locking onto the phone resting unassuming on his hallway floor bathed in a shaft of golden evening light. As he practiced in his head, he kicked off his shoes and, taking a breath to prepare himself, pulled Lum's number from his pants pocket where he'd kept it safely tucked away since yesterday. Next, and before his newfound resolve gave out, Ataru made his way to the phone, snagged the receiver, and punched the keys with glances spared between the number pad and paper. Then he waited through those sticky seconds that lasted forever in his head, through the pulsing hum of the dial tone, for a voice he hadn't heard since Spring. Each ring thundered in his ears, his heart pounding in time. Then finally -

"Hi-i!"

Lum.

Ataru's heart skipped.

Just one word was enough for him to know he'd reached her at last. Who else could embody, in such a simple way, all the untamed vibrancy of life? Or make Ataru so unexpectedly aware of how sorely he'd missed her presence? Hearing her voice was medicine for a soul he didn't know was ailing. And in that brief instant he felt a surge of vitality pulse through his otherwise quiet, monotonous existence. It was a joyous occasion cut aggressively short by an intrusive curiosity.

"That's how you answer your work phone?" Just 'hi'!? That's it? Did she have no sense of social norms? No sense of proper workplace communication? If this was how she acted, so unabashedly casual, on the phone, then he could only guess how she conducted herself in an office. Naturally all of these concerns, as evidenced by his exasperated tone, played second fiddle to Lum's own recognition of her long-lost husband's voice. At least in the beginning.

"Darling!" Lum's voice heaved through the phone, giving form to her shock.

Several emotions washed over her in waves, evidenced by the flash and wane of colors racing through her hair. The air around her popped and sizzled and she stared wide-eyed through the walls of her ship, as though looking right at him from beyond the stratosphere. After all this time, after months and months of silence, without any notice letting her know he was at least alive, this is what she gets!? Did he even consider that she might actually be worried about him? How incredibly selfish!

A growl twisted onto Lum's mouth as she clenched her teeth together at his cavalier greeting and subsequent destruction of the romantic vision she'd crafted of their fateful reunion. And to top it off, he had the audacity to criticize the way she answers her phone!? Not to mention this nonchalant attitude – no apology, no poeticism, nothing! As if this were just another day for him, rather than a long-awaited rejoining of souls destined to be together! That was just insult on top of insult and she wasn't going to stand for it! Without a word and much force, Lum slammed the receiver down into its holster, subsequently startling Ten who'd been reading upside-down nearby. Lum looked absolutely furious, poised over the phone with fangs bared.

"What was that?"

"Telemarketer!" Came her explosively curt snarl.

Ten stared at her, suspicious yet not quite so bold as to question her outright. Lum just stood there fuming with her arms folded, hair flashing, and static pulsing around her.

From behind her the phone rang again. Ten looked between it and Lum, wondering what she'd do. Without turning around she picked up the receiver, dropping it back down and disconnecting the call. Ten continued staring, and again the process repeated itself – the phone ringing, Lum hanging it up.

"That's a pretty persistent telemarketer..." Not that Ten believed that's who was on the other end. Not with that kind of reaction. He tried ransacking his mind for a possible identity, but couldn't think of anyone Lum was angry with at the moment. Ten had already completely (willfully) forgotten about his run-in with Ataru. Hadn't even mentioned the incident to Lum, reluctant to get her hopes up in the likely event that coward didn't follow through.

For a fourth time the phone rang, and Lum snatched the receiver. Fine then, if he was so insistent on talking to her now, they would talk! Her varicolored hair bristled with static shock, eyes blazed molten hot, and on her tongue she'd readied a scalding review of his character and his alarming ignorance. Lum sucked in a breath to prep her lungs, and then -

"I'm sorry!" Ataru's despondent voice cried through the phone on the instant. Lum froze, struck by the misery in his quavering apology, something she'd only ever heard a handful of times over the course of their relationship. In the ensuing silence he blubbered, "I'm sorry Lum! I-I don't have any excuse! And I know...I know you're mad at me. Of-of course you are, a-and you have every right to be. I messed up, I completely messed up! I can't change that. All I can say is I'm sorry, I should have reached out sooner – I know that. But...please...please don't hang up."

Slowly Lum's hair smoothed, and the air around her became quiet. Ten drifted tentatively closer.

Truly her darling was an awful person sometimes. Selfishness and pride were chief among his worst attributes, and of the entire list, his lust for women alone could be most relied upon. Frequently these follies led him down the wrong path in life, only for hindsight to provide his eventual liberation. At times Ataru was even brought to the crumbling edge of being too late for redemption. And when that happened he'd come to her like this; sincere and groveling, or a sobbing mess of a man. Regardless of his faults, her darling was really a sensitive soul. Lum could hear him fighting valiantly for composure and could almost see the tears welling in his eyes and that doleful look on his face that had a very annoying way of plucking at her heartstrings. But what could she do? She loved him. And she knew he loved her too. He just also happened to be an enormous idiot.

"Y'know Darling, there's only so many times 'sorry' will work." Maybe, Lum had to concede, they were both idiots.

"A-and," Ataru sniffed, still burdened by the uncertainty of her forgiveness, "what about now?" He gripped the receiver, his ear pressed against the cold plastic surface, intently waiting for her answer on bended knees, as though his entire life hinged upon her response. Which, in some aspect, it really did.

For a moment Lum was quiet. This was a question she'd asked herself when July came without any word from her husband. Many people were speaking in her ear then, both friends and mutuals alike, and even Ataru's own mother (although Lum learned to tune her out for the most part - how any woman could talk the way she did about her own son was beyond even the alien's comprehension). Their assessments were all very similar; he was probably out messing around with strange women and living it up as a bachelor without a single thought spared for the woman he'd left behind. Lum had only two things to combat their accusations with; his parting words and her own unflagging faith in his love.

Of all those people there was only one who seemed to give Ataru at least some credit, and that was Shinobu. Shinobu, who at one time was Lum's sworn enemy in the battle for his heart. Ataru was a fool, she'd said with utmost confidence, but even if he was out doing all the things they both believed him to be doing she was certain he thought about Lum often. Further, she was unsurprised by his silence, saying he was most likely learning some hard lessons, and that he would walk back into her life once they'd sunk in. Ataru was, after all, a slow learner. Lum found she agreed with this take. This was how she felt at the beginning of Summer, and her feelings hadn't changed now at the start of Autumn.

"Well," Lum strung him along a bit longer, glad he couldn't see the foxlike grin on her face as she let the silence stretch on. "I guess I forgive you."

Ten slapped himself in the face and groaned. Great. Looked like his Ataru vacation was coming to an end after all. Granted, he wasn't completely disappointed that halfwit made the call. Perhaps he had some redeeming qualities after all.

All Ataru's anxiety and fears gushed from him with a half-sobbing laugh of relief. She forgave him! She actually forgave him! Everything would be okay! Ataru felt the burdens of his lonely Summer lift and he could swear, if he didn't know any better, that he was floating.

"Th-that's gre-!"

"But I don't know about the others." Lum announced, cutting his celebration short.

"Others?" Ataru's brows furrowed. "What others?"

"Benten, Oyuki, and Ran. You disappeared for so long without saying anything, and I couldn't handle everything on my own. It's a lot of work taking care of a child, especially Ten. He gets into a lot of trouble y'know." Lum leaned against the phone podium, twirling the cord absentmindedly in her fingers.

"H-hey! Don't tell him that!" Ten gasped, frantically paddling around Lum. "I'm a good boy!"

"I had to do all the parent-teacher stuff and go to work on top of that!" Lum continued despite Ten's pleas. "I don't know what I would've done without them."

"O-oh." Ah, so she'd had help all this time? Well, that was a good thing. In reality Ataru hadn't considered the trouble she might have with Ten. He'd been so preoccupied with Lum's absence and his own misery he forgot about the responsibilities she must have had to juggle. Although she'd forgiven him, Ataru couldn't help feel weighed by regret at this revelation. Not to mention stupid. Knowing this added even more value to her pardon.

"Yeah, so they're pretty annoyed at you. You'll have to make it up to them."

Make it up to them? Immediately Ataru's mind delved into the pit of its own depravity, conjuring up various ways that he could show his appreciation for their help. Why, he could take them out to dinner (as a group if they wanted, although he'd prefer one on one sessions), or to the movies, or even just for a tour around the city. How many of them could say they'd seen a real Earth City up close?

"I think I can do that." Despite his best efforts a devious little snicker fell through his lips.

"I believe in you darling." Through the other end of the phone Ataru's keen ears picked up a quiet, sinister chuckle from Lum's side. Evidently she had a different, likely more accurate idea of what would be required for the girls to forgive his infraction...and just by context clues alone Ataru had a feeling it wouldn't be at all what he hoped for.

"What's with that laug-?"

"Oh darling!" Blissful tranquility sang in her voice as she cut through his reservations. "It's been so long since I've heard your voice! You sound so grown up!"

Caught slightly off guard by the abrupt change of subject, Ataru hesitantly continued, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. Whatever Lum's friends had in mind, he'd find out eventually.

"That's because I am grown up!" He corrected sternly.

Lum laughed at the indignity in his voice, still basking in the joy of having him back in her life. Much like the comforts of a childhood memory, every intonation, every chord of his voice, his mannerisms, swept over Lum and set a flutter in her heart. Then a thought occurred to her.

"So how'd you find my work number anyway?"

Prompted by her rather interesting word choice, both Ataru and Ten leaped at the chance to correct her assumption that he'd 'found' her number.

"He didn't find it!"

"I didn't find it!"

They yelled in tandem. And then again in unison;

"He stalked me at school and begged me for it!"

"I ran into Ten and asked him for it!"

Each gave their own particular spin on the situation: one factual, one crafted to save face.

"I didn't beg!" Ataru snarled through the phone so the boy could hear him in all his ire.

"It doesn't really matter, I was curious is all!" Lum declared brightly to silence their bickering. "I'm just so happy you called! I've been waiting for this day." Then she added darkly, "For a long time."

"Y-yeah." Ataru stammered, feeling bashful under her gleeful disclosure and ever so slightly threatened by her last statement. "Well, I saw a billboard and thought, gee, I should really reach out to Lum so she doesn't worry." He further floundered for something to say that wouldn't expose his pining heart. "Since, you know, like I said, I've just been working really hard for us." This sort of offhand flattery was fine for Lum, but not Ten. His face scrunched disapprovingly. That idiot just had no panache.

"Holy crap dude what was that? Boo!" Ten jeered from his floating perch next to Lum.

"Why are you still listening!?" Ataru screeched, mortified, with flushed cheeks he was glad they couldn't see.

"Ten!" Lum held the receiver away from her face to chide her young cousin. "Go in the other room so Darling and I can have a private chat." She shooed him off, flicking her hand toward the door.

"It's...it's not that private." Ataru offered a meek argument that went ignored. Private made it sound...intimate, which it wasn't! Although, he would still prefer Ten go away if he insisted on picking apart every word.

"Fine by me." Shrugging, Ten floated toward the door, but not before offering Ataru a parting, "Later loser." for good measure.

"Ten!" Lum barked, prompting both Ataru and Ten to wince.

"I just meant him!" Ten asserted his innocence, but Lum was having none of it.

"Go!" She pointed toward the door, eyes pinned on him as he bobbed out of the room, sulking to himself. Lum waited until he was out of sight, and then a second more to ensure he wouldn't peek around the doorway. And once she was certain they were alone Lum returned the receiver to her ear, her voice lowered to a gentle caress. "We're alone now Darling."

"Y-yeah." Her tone had him stammering, and he was suddenly glad for the miles of atmosphere that lay between them. For someone who prided himself on his skills with women Ataru was absurdly out of his depth when it came to Lum. In all the scenarios he'd played through involving this fateful phone call he expected a lot more from her end; yelling at him for taking so long, badgering him with questions about what he'd been doing this whole time, even accusations of flirting. Her swift forgiveness and warm reception caught him off guard, and with nothing to defend against, Ataru found himself nervous and groping for dialogue. Then he realized he had a golden opportunity to finally solve the riddle of why she got a job in the first place!

"So," his words nudged through the phone, "you work now huh?"

"I had to!" Lum gasped a little at his lack of understanding about the situation. "How else am I supposed to make money? Earth doesn't exactly have any sort of currency exchange for Oniboshi, not with so little resources. And Ten needed a bunch of stuff for school." For Lum the answer was obvious; to live on Earth one needs Earth money. And as she'd said, there was no decent or comparable wealth on his poverty-stricken planet for her to utilize. As such she was subject to the generosity of the Earthlings in her life. Since each of them seemed to be grappling with money problems themselves, Lum was left to sort her own affairs. On Ataru's end though, the simplicity of her statement failed to satisfy his question. He opened his mouth to speak but she went on, "Without your mom's help I didn't really have a choice."

Well that didn't make much sense either. He stared cross at the phone as though it were her.

"She would have helped you. You know she likes you, way more than she likes me anyway." He countered, but not maliciously. Actually he felt hurt on her behalf to think she didn't feel comfortable enough, after all this time, to rely on his mother. Did Lum not realize how much his family adored her?

"No it didn't feel right." She argued back, shaking her head.

"If you stayed at home and helped around the house it would have been fine." He couldn't fathom a situation in which it wouldn't have been okay.

"I couldn't stay." Lum held fast to her reasoning. Then her voice lowered again, and she added with a measure of sadness, "It...was too quiet."

Quiet. For the first time in a while Ataru thought about his old room and all the memories it held. To be suddenly stripped of his presence, well, it probably was very quiet after that. Then Ataru thought of his own lifeless apartment bathed in shadows and felt a similar emptiness wash over him.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

Silence stretched between them as the weight of their separate loneliness smothered the conversation. Ataru had been so focused on accomplishing his goals he hadn't once considered the void he'd leave behind for her to endure. Nor did he fathom the hollowness he'd suffer in her absence. Lum, too, was reflecting on those solitary days, but she didn't get quite so lost in the memory as Ataru did.

"Oh!" She pipped up, "What about your job? Do you still have the same one?"

Ataru's rumination was cut short by the blunt, unapologetic delivery of her question, which read more like an insult. A forgivable offense, considering who was asking. Dear Lum never was able to grasp the intricacies of polite conversation no matter how long she lived on this planet.

"Coming from anyone else that would be a pretty rude question." Ataru added dryly.

By the lack of response, he knew she didn't get it, which struck a familiar chord of humor within him. Ataru couldn't help chuckle as he answered her, "Yeah, I do."

Words flowed between them while, outside their awareness, minutes gathered into hours. Time sure was a slippery thing; a simple condition of human existence that was always lost during those richest moments of bliss. And as the couple shared highlights of their lives over the course of that Summer, neither were aware how much time they let slip by. It was irrelevant. For those precious hours of reconnection, the world could've ended and neither would have noticed. The passage of the moon from one horizon to the next remained similarly unseen, even from orbit.

"But I really hope things work out for them this time." Lum sighed as she finished up the tale of Ran's latest exploits with Rei, who it seemed was finally learning to expand his sights beyond mindless consumption now that he and Ran were cohabitating. There was just a hint of reservation in her voice to suggest he'd relapsed enough times to make her doubtful.

Ataru had to laugh at the absurdity of their relationship. Ran was, in his opinion, much too gorgeous of a woman to be hooked on that cow. He couldn't really fathom her stubbornness, which seemed like a shared trait among the Oni regardless of their unique origins. Although, like Lum, he doubted the steadfastness of any situation regarding Rei unless food was directly involved.

"I think it will as long as her oven holds out."

Lum laughed heartily at his prediction, then cried out in alarm!

"What!?" Ataru felt a secondary shock and jolted upright from his position sprawled on the hallway floor.

"It's two in the morning on earth!" Lum shrieked.

Ataru flipped onto his knees and crawled toward the Livingroom where his digital clock sat on the T.V. he'd gotten (paid for) from Kosuke's family. Sure enough, 2:15 AM. His mouth hung slack. Had they really been talking for that long?

"I have to work in the morning - oh! And so do you!" Lum jumped from one problem to the next in quick succession. "You should go to bed right now! Goodnight Darling-" Ataru's heart lurched at her words.

No! Not yet!

"Wait!"

Don't hang up!

"What?" The urgency in his voice surprised Lum and she pulled the phone back to her ear. Ataru sat there a moment, his head, his heart, and his voice fighting an unseen battle.

"Do." He started and stopped, struggling for another moment, "Do you have weekends off?" His heart pounded as he gripped the phone tightly with both hands. He couldn't think, couldn't argue, with the overpowering desire for more of her time.

"Mhm, usually." Her answer unlocked his lungs and Ataru could breathe again.

"That's good." Then he added, as nonchalantly as possible, "There's a movie coming out on Saturday I wanted to see. And I have an extra ticket so-"

"Yay!" She cheered over his words, "I'd love to go on a date!" Good old Lum. He could always rely on her to jump the gun and find the question he hadn't even asked yet. "We haven't gone on one in ages!"

After weeks and months of denial, of avoidance, right up to today, he'd finally done it. Ataru banished his apprehension using sheer willpower and pulled Lum back into his life with unexpected results. He'd missed her, truly. Just hearing her voice was enough to erase the season they spent apart and rekindle feelings he tried burying beneath a flimsy desire for independence. Yes, his world was about to change once more. And in spite of everything he knew that meant, Ataru just couldn't stop smiling.

"Yeah. It's been a while."

Apologies to anyone expecting Lum to lose her shit on Ataru. I mean, c'mon, she knows what her man is about. He's stupid, he's going to screw up. She already knew that from the get-go. Lum was angrier that he didn't come back with an apology right off the bat, and that he didn't think to reach out just so she wouldn't worry about him. Lum does believe he's been busy, just as much as she believes he's also been chasing skirts, and just as much as she believes he loves her. Lum has a lot of faith in Ataru – faith that he's obstinate and faith in his love. And she loves him too. After everything these two have been through, Ataru would, in my opinion, have to do a LOT worse than this to really piss her off.

And now the romance half of the story really begins!