The next day arrives!

Also remember when I said the other chapters weren't as long maybe? That's cuz I didn't check the word counts when I said that T_T.

Musical inspiration oneheart x reidenshi - snowfall

And to the guest who asked if they can find my NGE fics anywhere (can't reply to guests so hopefully you see this!) you can find them in my profile. There is a link to my old FFN account that has some of my earlier fics. Although one of them seems to have been lost to the 'purge' FFN did a while back.

CHAPTER 18: KINDLE

Blinding sunlight was Ataru's untimely alarm, combined with a growing discomfort that comes of sleeping on a bare wooden floor. A groan betokened his displeasure, and his eyes flickered grudgingly against the mid-morning glare. During the struggle for consciousness, he was made vaguely aware of a tension in his head and a sour feeling in his gut. Neither were surprising - these were the usual consequences of Friday night drinking. But the bare floor? Now that was...that was...

Ataru's head shot up with a jolt, and at once he was inundated with memories of the previous night. Everything else, the hard floor and his complaints, vanished, replaced by visions of Lum in his arms, clear-cut and crystal, as if she were right there with him now. He could still feel the heat of her body and the curves of her waist in his hands and - Ataru shook his head abruptly, afraid to confront the truths he so often hid from himself. And then he remembered with great alarm that Lum was still here, in his apartment!

Slowly his eyes panned toward the door, wide and frightened over what might lay beyond the safety of his room. Ataru swallowed hard, choking down what felt like his heart hammering away in his throat. It wouldn't do to stay in his room forever, although the idea was tempting. Unfortunately, it was also stupid; hiding away when he'd been the one who brought her here in the first place (albeit for her own safety). And now that she was here there was little choice left but to face the inevitable. Ataru drew in a deep breath and rose reluctantly. He took one tentative step, then another, creeping along like this until he finally reached the door. There he took a second to steady himself before sliding it back gently, just enough to poke his head through.

Silence. Silence was good. Emboldened, Ataru stepped out of his room and stared down the vacant hallway. It was steeped in shadows, the only source of light streaming through his front door and...the Livingroom. The Livingroom where he'd left Lum the night before. Treading lightly, Ataru advanced as far as the doorway, stopping just outside of it. A vibration of nerves raced up his spine, the pounding of his heart filled his ears, and uncertainty rocked the foundations of his resolve.

Then he came to himself.

This was ridiculous! Standing here in the hallway, trembling like a timid child afraid of shadows in the dark. What kind of man does that? A coward! And he'd endured far too much, come much too far, to let fear hold him back now. Ataru's pride swelled and determination was set in the lines of his face, the crease of his brow, and his eyes that blazed with renewed courage. Before he lost his nerve, he thrust his head around the door frame to cast an appraising glance over the Livingroom.

The wan white morning sun bathed the room in glittering gold that flashed across the wooden floors and bronzed every surface. Flecks of dust danced lazily through the air, and the cheerful twittering of birdsong could be heard just outside the far window. Amid this splendor of light was Lum, wrapped tightly in his futon, the blankets of which she'd pulled just up to her nose. She was still asleep. Sweet merciful Buddha, she was still asleep! Relief rushed over Ataru so rapidly he nearly collapsed, and it was all he could do to brace a hand against the wall lest he meet the floor. To be double sure he spared a second glance, studying Lum intently for any signs she might be faking or ready to rouse.

But on she slept unawares. The blankets rose and fell in gentle undulation, and Ataru noted a serene glow emanating from her face. His eyes softened and he leaned against the doorframe silently watching her. All the worries and frets and anxious tics he suffered through melted away, and his heart quivered gently in its cage. Little snapshots of her trickled into his mind's retina, feeding him visions of her smiling, laughing, and the gentle light of love that peeked out at him from her golden eyes whenever they met his. There was a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he realized with small alarm that he was swooning. Abruptly he turned away, staggering back into the shadowed hall. Don't get carried away, he warned himself, and again thanked the powers that be she wasn't awake to see him like this.

Ataru sought refuge in the kitchen. He grabbed plastic cup from the countertop, filled it with water from the tap, and downed it all in one go. Then he breathed deeply and set the cup down in the same spot it lived until he had use for it. He wiped a hand over the height of his face and stared pensively into the white plaster wall beyond the sink.

What was he going to do now? More specifically, what would happen once Lum woke up? Was she going to want to talk about...last night? Hell. Ataru could scarcely handle looking at her while she slept, he couldn't imagine having to engage her, awake, on the deeper meaning behind their shared kiss. In a moment of preemptive terror he considered tossing her out the moment she woke, swift and sure, giving her no room for argument. But without an excuse? No, she would sniff out his intentions immediately and then he'd have even more reason to be embarrassed. Ataru traded his fear for annoyance, both at the situation and at himself.

Firstly, if she hadn't drank so much he wouldn't have had to bring her home (granted, he still felt it was the best choice all things considered). Second, what happened last night was his own fault for allowing his emotions to get the better of him - drunk or not. But there was no point stewing over things he couldn't change. Nor could he deny the truth at the root of his actions. There was nothing to take back, only consequences to weather. And weather them he would, because the alternative, isolation, was a type of misery he never wanted to experience again. He had to figure something out. Otherwise Lum might try forcing his hand, hinting at marriage or suggesting they live together. Ataru released a pent-up sigh and leaned heavily against the counter.

It was then, as his eyes panned the countertop thoughtlessly, that an answer came to him. After his night with Yamagata, Ataru was imparted with the fear of an expanding waistline. To allay those worries he'd purchased his own rice cooker, a half dozen eggs, and a pan, and took to mastering – more or less – the skill of eggs over rice in the privacy of his own home. Now, some time later, he'd gained a rudimentary understanding of the timing and heat required to at least not burn them black. The rice cooker was easier to learn, and took only one batch of crisp rice, and one batch of mush, for him to figure out the proper proportions. Being able to make this simple dish put money back in his pocket and saved him from 'starving' on many a late night/early morning. And now it would save him from another peril.

A grin finally found its way to Ataru's face as he imagined how stunned she'd be to see him cooking. So stunned, he hoped, that she wouldn't even think to mention their encounter in the dark of his genkan. And, well, it would certainly impress her, wouldn't it? A win on all sides! Ataru locked his hands, stretched the night weariness from his joints, and quickly set to task.

An incessant buzz was the first sound to penetrate Lum's peaceful sleep. She winced beneath the glaring sunlight and writhed reluctantly in her bed, wondering who in the galaxy could be calling her at what she assumed to be the crack of dawn. On a weekend no less! Still fighting the sleep in her eyes, she groped with a hand for the communicator, finding it eventually beside her pillow. Lum dragged it along the floor to her ear and flipped it open.

"Hel-"

"Lum!" Ten's voice wailed through the communicator.

At once Lum sat upright, her fatigue and the blankets falling away to reveal a very familiar tiger-striped two-piece that had been her sleepwear for the night.

"T-Ten!" Lum gasped, remembering immediately she hadn't gone home last night.

"Where are you?" He blubbered miserably. "Why didn't you come home?! I was alone all night an' it was scary!"

Lum flung the covers aside and began frantically collecting her clothes with one hand, draping them over her other arm.

"I'm so sorry Ten! I didn't mean to leave you alone, I -" Ataru's dark smoldering eyes flashed through her mind, and for a brief moment, Lum couldn't move or speak. "- I couldn't get home last night!" She continued, forcing the memories and her thundering heart aside for the time being.

On the other end of the communicator Ten rolled his eyes. Couldn't get home? Yeah right!

"It's that stupid losers fault isn't it?"

Lum halted her frenzy to glare at Ten through the communicator, her eyes flashing angrily as she relived, in an instant, a series of parent-teacher meetings over his penchant for, as he put it, 'telling it like it is'.

"Ten that's not nice, y'know you're not supposed to talk like that about others."

"I'm not at school I can say whatever I want." Ten huffed indignantly as he floated through the living quarters of Lum's UFO, drifting aimlessly from one room into the next. Why did he have to curtail himself because the people of Earth were overly sensitive?

"I don't care if you're at school or not, it's a bad habit!" Lum reprimanded him further, knowing that his behavior wouldn't improve if he was allowed to backslide at home.

Having gathered her clothes and purse Lum stood, ready to head home. All she had left to grab were her boots and jacket, and then she could endure the hardship of bidding her husband goodbye.

"Why're you mad at me?" Ten groused as he floated into the kitchen area on his back, not truly paying attention to where he was going. "It's not my fault you didn't come home like you said you would!" Unexpectedly his head pressed up against something firm, and he flipped around to investigate the source of his impediment. Oh! The pantry? How interesting.

"I know, I'm sorry." Guilt strangled the authority from her voice, leaving Lum apologetic once more. With her head lowered she walked out into the hallway. "I'll be home -" From seemingly nowhere the smell of rice hit her nose, along with the telltale sizzle of grease spitting over a hot pan. Lum whipped her head toward the sound and her eyes widened as they beheld Ataru...cooking!? "- later."

In that moment, confronted by the unbelievable sight of her husband bent over a stove, nothing else seemed to matter. Not even her cousin, who in all honesty, stopped paying attention the moment he found the pantry and its tempting contents.

"Huh?" Ten blinked as the words sunk in, putting a pause to his pilfering.

"Just give me a few minutes?" Lum wrestled between her desires and her obligations. How could she leave when her darling dear husband was very clearly cooking them breakfast? She never expected him to make such a gesture, never mind that he could do it at all! "Then I'll come right home."

"Uh..." Ten hesitated. In his arms was a growing pile of junk food and interstellar candies that Lum normally guarded from his voracious appetite. This was a very rare opportunity for him, and seeing the bounty he'd amassed, Ten was loath to put them back. "I mean, there's no rush or anything. You're still hanging out with the moron, right?"

"But you just said -"

"I'm not a baby y'know I can take care of myself!" Ten argued with lofty certitude. Though, knowing that alone wouldn't get him very far with his cousin, he feigned sympathy. "Besides you work really hard, you deserve a break!"

"Ten I..." Lum was gobsmacked. This was a complete reversal of his earlier complaints. Normally his way of comforting her was to suggest she break up with Ataru. In fact, he put up a fuss when she left Friday evening, warning him she'd be home late. Now he was suggesting they spend more time together? "Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

"Hey, I'm very mature for my age. I understand things like this." Ten spoke with undeserved pride as he took his haul to the common room and began laying out his spoils in front of their wall-sized television.

For a pensive moment Lum stood in the hallway, revisiting her earlier struggle between obligation and selfish desire. Ten was her responsibility, and she'd already let him down by not coming home, and not even calling to say she'd be staying the night! On the other hand...she couldn't help cling to his reasoning. With how hard she worked and how little of her time was actually hers, Lum truly felt like she was owed at least this one small moment of selfishness. And yet...

"I don't know."

"Look," Ten persisted adamantly once he heard the hesitation in her voice. "I promise I'll stay on the ship. I won't go anywhere or let anyone in. I'll be a good boy I swear!" He wanted to argue the fact that he'd been left on his own before. However, given his history, that didn't seem like a great idea.

"Well...are you sure?" Lum wavered. Not so much because he was convincing, rather, it was her own desire for more time with her husband that swayed her.

Being unduly confident in his powers of persuasion, Ten had already settled in front of the television with his snacks and was in the middle of channel surfing for something spicy to watch. Coincidentally, just as she'd asked, he flipped to a program featuring a tall buxom woman reclined seductively on a couch, her cloths faithfully hugging the contours of her body.

"Yes!" He cried, then paused, but ultimately shrugged as his exclaim worked for both situations.

"Okay!" This was enough for Lum and she took to offering her heartfelt appreciation with great sincerity. "Thank you so much for understanding Ten."

Ten smirked at his own cleverness and simultaneously beamed under her gratitude.

"Just make sure you make it up to me, y'know, for being so reasonable and understanding and great."

"Of course. Whatever you'd like."

What a fortuitous turn of events! To himself the young Oni snickered; he couldn't have planned this any better if he tried! Whatever consequences came of this once-in-a-lifetime day were problems for future-Ten. Right now, he cared only about living fully in the present. As did Lum, though for entirely different reasons. And thus, the two wished each other goodbye and ended their call.

Dropping her belongings by the genkan, Lum fluttered into the kitchen, stopping just beyond the doorway behind Ataru. The astonishment in her voice matched her expression.

"Darling, you can cook?"

"Of course I can cook!" Ataru barked with great offense. "Did you think I was lying?" He asked, referencing their day with Ran when the subject first came up. Lum only had courage enough to offer a rueful smile - she did indeed think he was lying.

Ataru turned from her with a huff to eye his eggs, secretly pleased by this turn of events. Just as he'd hoped, the fact that he was actually cooking took precedent in her mind. And, seeing the surprise on her face, Ataru discovered an additional bonus. With Lum's penchant for bragging about his accomplishments, this would get back to everybody - his parents, Shinobu, Ryuu, Sakura. They'd hear that he was doing well, thriving even. And they would marvel at his resilience, which was indeed a thing to marvel at. There had certainly been some speculation over how well he would handle being on his own. And yet he'd endured! None of his achievements were easily gained either. So as far as Ataru was concerned, he deserved their admiration for all the trials and tribulations he'd overcome.

Although, truth be told, it rankled him that Lum doubted his claim, regardless of whether or not he could make more than eggs over rice. Lum, of all people, who was supposed to champion him no matter what! With that in mind, Ataru felt justified in rubbing that disbelief in her face.

"I didn't know you had so little faith in me." Ataru knew that would sting, and it did. Lum dipped her head in shame. "What man living on his own doesn't know how to do something as easy cooking? It's basically a necessity." Again he scoffed while making a show of flipping and fluffing the eggs, pretending he had finesse when, in reality, he was fighting to keep them from burning.

Lum was enchanted and she wore her feelings openly. The act itself and the ability behind it, which had most assuredly been acquired after he moved out, were both completely unexpected. She could scarcely resist the urge for a closer look and floated behind him, hovering just above his head for a peak at what he was making. Ataru felt her eyes on him, and turned to see her peering over his shoulder. He raised an elbow up to block her line of sight, lest she see the truth of his struggle.

"Would you stop hovering?" His voice rose to an angry snarl. "You're going to make me mess up!" He even went as far as moving the pan aside, which he was secretly loath to do considering how sensitive eggs seemed to be.

Lum frowned though ultimately obeyed and drifted back to the center of the kitchen. Ataru leered at her briefly, making sure she wouldn't try to sneak in on his other side, before turning back to his eggs - which, as he feared, were starting to cook unevenly. While he struggled to salvage them, Lum cast a curious glance around his kitchen, noting with small surprise that it was about as bare as his Livingroom. There was no table, no chairs; it seemed he did all his eating on the countertops. At the very least it wasn't as dirty as she anticipated. This, she could never know, was thanks to Mrs. Miwa's threats of eviction should he not shape up. After the bug fiasco, Ataru had done his due diligence in keeping the kitchen tidy, and once lines of communication opened up with his parents again, he sought his mother's advice regularly.

All this to say there was nowhere to sit, and so Lum remained airborne in the center of his kitchen, waiting anxiously for Ataru to finish.

Nearly twenty minutes later the rice cooker popped and Ataru took the plug from the wall (another strategy he'd adopted to keep the rice from over-cooking as it warmed). The eggs were also finished, and with his back still to Lum he grabbed two plastic plates that he'd set out beforehand and laid the rice down first. From there his presentation differed significantly from Yamagata's. Eggs over easy was akin to an unattainable fantasy he could never hope to replicate. Scrambled eggs though, that was much easier! Ataru used a spoon to press a small crater in the middle of the rice and piled the eggs into it. Sure, it wasn't the same as his sempai's masterpiece, but it was something he found pride in all the same. And his face beamed with that pride as he handed her a plate, his chest puffed and a self-congratulatory grin smeared across his face.

"See? I can cook."

Lum gazed on the dish with wide-eyed wonder. Gingerly she took the plate, holding it close to examine the cloud of rice and golden mound of eggs with great attention. Ataru felt a pinch of anxiety as she studied the food. He'd made sure to give her the better of the two batches to avoid any criticism. After a moment of this he thrust a fork in her face, hoping to keep her from discovering any flaws in his cooking or presentation. Lum received it eagerly and he watched intently as she scooped a bit of egg and a bit of rice onto her fork and reverently took the first bite of the very first meal her husband ever made for her.

For an alien whose taste buds were not attune to the flavors of Earth food – with few exceptions – she'd learned to appreciate texture and temperature rather than taste. The rice was pillowy soft and the eggs almost melted on her tongue, save for a few pieces that received a little too much heat. And when she swallowed, Lum was overtaken by a comforting warmth she was certain had been imparted by his love. Ataru watched her face keenly for a reaction, though he didn't know why. Not like she could taste it. A frown was beginning to form when she exclaimed her gleeful approval.

"I love it!"

Ataru scoffed.

"You can't even taste it."

Lum's expression softened, and in her eyes, which were bent toward the plate, there was a gentle glow of adoration.

"That's not why I love it." Her response came softly forward, catching Ataru off guard and wiping the skepticism from his face. Neither was he prepared for the quiet sincerity in her voice.

To her, this was far more than a simple breakfast. This was something he'd made for her, by choice, without being asked. Lum never imagined he would go out of his way to do something so kind for her. Only Ataru knew the real reason behind the gesture. And seeing the happiness shining on her face, he felt twin pangs of guilt and gladness. Lum lifted her eyes to his and flashed him a smile that froze the breath in his throat.

Just then he remembered seeing those same eyes illuminated by a track of light in the darkness of his hallway and an honest flush colored his cheeks. Lum appeared to remember it as well, because she became fixated on the plate in her hand, her face reddening similarly. Ataru swiftly turned his back to her to fetch his own plate and offered a meek suggestion they eat in the Livingroom, considering the absence of any chairs. Lum nodded approbation, and together, their eyes averted from each other, they passed into the next room.

Using the futon and blankets as cushions they settled in front of the television. They talking very little and principally about what was playing in front of them, until eventually their nerves had settled and they could once again look at each other and their conversation touched on more familiar topics. This was...good. Nice even. Far less hectic than breakfast at his mom's house back in the day, since it was just the two of them. Just them. No Ten, no Kotatsu-Cat, no unexpected visitors, hijinks or shenanigans. Just him and Lum, eating as she rambled on about how wonderful it was to meet his coworkers while fishing for the nicest way possible to gloss over the worst of their personalities. If he was being honest, Ataru hadn't expected this outcome.

Once their meal was finished Ataru collected both plates and made for the kitchen. Lum rose after him, snatching the plates from his hand and wagging a finger in his face.

"Ah-ah!" She scolded him playfully. "You cooked, so I'll clean." It was the least she could do to repay her husband's generosity. Although, truthfully, Lum saw an opportunity to fulfill, in some small way, the duties she expected to perform as his wife and jumped at the chance. Ataru wasn't about to stop her. Hell, he'd often fantasized about her doing all his chores! He gave no argument and settled in the door frame of the kitchen, wearing an imperceptible smirk.

And as he stood there, watching the back of her and listening absently to the melody she hummed, a vision began to form. The smirk fell from him and his eyes drew away to a telescopic distance as his imagination made subtle changes to her hair, her build, her clothes, until she came to resemble a woman of the future. His future. At the sight of this divination Ataru sagged weakly against the wall and succumbed to the ailments of a man deeply in love. These feelings rocked him mercilessly, and though he tried, Ataru couldn't find the strength to turn from this picture he'd created. It drew him in like a moth to firelight, except, unlike the moth, Ataru was well aware of the dangers of being burned. Fear gripped him, fear of the acceptance in his heart, and he immediately scrambled for something to douse the fire flaming within him.

"H-hey Lum. You ever played Mahjong?"

A questioning glance was his answer. He was saved.

Ataru strode into his room, with Lum following him, to a corner where four cardboard boxes sat.

"I know it's in here somewhere." Ataru muttered as he began digging through the first one, moving onto the second after a minute. Lum didn't need to count the months to be amazed at the realization that some of his belongings were still in boxes.

"You still haven't unpacked everything?"

"Don't judge me, I work a lot." Ataru answered without looking up. "Unpacking boxes isn't exactly how I want to spend my down time."

At his words Lum remembered the promise he'd made the morning he moved out – that he would work hard to earn enough money so that, one day, they could finally have the wedding she'd been dreaming of. Believing such a line was risky, but after everything her husband had done for her over the years, the little surprises, the challenges he faced head on to secure her place at his side, she dared to put her faith in him. To her, hearing this was tangible evidence that her trust hadn't been misplaced. And, filled with emotion, she could neither resist the urge to embrace him from behind. Ataru froze as he felt her hands come down on his shoulders, her head resting gently against his back.

"Working hard for us?" She whispered adoringly in his ears.

The inclination toward dishonesty was automatic. Naturally the safest answer was 'yes', because that's what he used to justify his decision to go alone. And yet, the words never came. They existed eternally in his throat, held there by the suffocating grip of guilt on his conscience. Initially, and for the most part, his determination was rooted in selfishness. Even if on some level he really was working toward their future, he'd turned it into another lie to get her off his case. Thus, he couldn't bring himself to give her any answer. All he could do was sit there, frozen, ashamed, and silent.

Salvation came in the form of a black zippered case peeking out from beneath a stack of manga.

"Aha!" Ataru retrieved the Mahjong set and held it triumphantly in his hands. "Found it! Let's go set it up." Gripping the case tightly, as though it were made of gold, he pulled away from Lum and retreated hastily out the door. His celerity was perplexing, and she noted that he hadn't said anything to her comment. But that wasn't unusual for her husband, who often kept his emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference, so she dropped the matter with a shrug and followed after him.

Dividing the futon and blanket, Lum and Ataru created seats for themselves and prepared for a game of Mahjong. Ataru spent their first round conveying the goals and rules of the game as they went. Lum spared few words, the only proof she was listening shown by an occasional nod. More than once he wondered how deep her understanding went, and his eyes would pinch and he'd study her carefully before going on. In their time apart Ataru appeared to have forgotten that Lum was incredibly intelligent. He held no appreciation for her mastery of foreign languages, or her godlike ability to skip through time and dimensions with technology leagues beyond their own. A simple game of Mahjong, once Lum gathered the information provided and organized it in her head to something more coherent than Ataru's blathering, was easy to comprehend. And win. Multiple, multiple times. Eventually, after several losses, Ataru could no longer forbear the urge to voice his suspicion.

"You have to be cheating!" Ataru pointed an accusing finger at her.

"How would I cheat?" Lum asked, her brows cocked and arms folded.

"You tell me." His eyes narrowed distrustfully.

"Darling you're hilarious."

Ataru's nose wrinkled at being written off. Hilarious? What's hilarious was the idea that she'd been able to dominate a complicated game like Mahjong in a single morning! Even more hilarious was the fact that, evidently, she expected him to believe her! Ataru was prepared to say as much when Lum's face suddenly brightened at something behind him.

"Oh! Darling look!" She sailed over his head, landing in front of his Livingroom window. Excitement rang in her voice. "It's snowing!"

Intrigued, Ataru stood and joined her at the window. Flakes of snow fell gently from the gray sky above, drifting and twirling, these small crystals of intricate designs. Their life would be short, he knew, spanning the night at most and dying away beneath the Sunday sun.

"So it is." So it was.

In their quiet admiration of this meteoric phenomena, Ataru was made keenly aware of their closeness. He'd propped his arm against the window frame, and in doing so, had slung it around the back of her. Lum shifted her weight from one leg to the other, brushing up against him in the process. It was a subtle caress, but it was enough to alert them both and draw their eyes to each other.

Ataru felt an itch in his arms, a longing to gather her close, to hold her tight. And Lum, likewise, realized a yearning desire to lean into him and feel his arms wrap around her as they did the night before. A palpable heat rose up between them, adding a deeper color than normal to their cheeks and an extra beat to their pining hearts. And yet, despite the welcome in her eyes, the second she inclined toward him Ataru pulled away, timid and floundering and frightened of what might happen, what might change, should he give in again.

"Ah! H-hey! Isn't it lunch time?" Ataru rose quickly and went to check the clock near his television, leaving Lum despondent by the window. "Yup! Sure is!" Ataru turned to see the look on her face, and a new urge came over him, this time in his legs. "Uh-right! See, the thing is, I don't really have anything to make, so looks like I'll have to run to the store really quick!" In a blink he retreated toward the doorway. Lum made to speak, but he hurried to talk over her as he stepped into the hall. "You just wait here!"

"But it's snowing out!" Lum called after him as he vanished from sight.

"It's just across the street, I'll be right back!" Ataru's voice rang from the hallway but he dared not look back. He threw on his shoes and flung a jacket over himself in a mad dash for freedom. He needed to get out of there, he needed to put some distance between them before his emotions got the better of him and he did something he couldn't take back. Ataru flew out the front door, slamming it behind him. Lum could do little but sit there in his wake, confused and wishing her husband would embrace her and the feelings she knew he harbored inside.

Snow and wind buffeted Ataru harshly, sufficiently dousing the inferno that was raging through him seconds ago. Never before was he so happy to be cold! And without Lum's doleful eyes peering up at him, his mind was free to process thoughts once more. That was a close one, was the first thought, followed shortly by a question; why was it a close one? Ah, but he knew why. The real issue lay in his refusal to accept it. Well, maybe refusal wasn't the right word. No, it definitely wasn't. Fear was far more appropriate. Ataru strode down the hallway outside his apartment building, holding his jacket tightly around his chest over his heart, which was pounding back against his fists.

Don't think about it. Just don't think about it. Everything is fine. Everything is normal. We lived together for years. And she's just visiting. Just for today. Nothing is different. Nothing has to be different.

This is enough.

Right?

During Ataru's absence, Lum was granted the time and space in which to find herself. When their eyes met at the window she experienced a painful longing, urging her to seek him out the way she used to; with great insistence and grand overtures of affection. But the memory of the reverent intensity in his gaze, the feeling of his lips over hers, and the way his hands roamed over her hips and through her hair, inspired a timid shyness and feelings of vulnerability that set her heart aflutter. So, she resisted. Not for lack of wanting. Rather, she hoped for him to pursue her again. To come to her and prove it wasn't just a fluke, or an instant of passion fueled by drunkenness. And she knew, reluctantly, the only way for that to happen was to curb herself and let him make the next move. Their game of tag in the mushroom jungle had opened her eyes to the type of man her husband was and she'd yet to forget those lessons.

A little later the front door opened, signaling Ataru's return home. Lum rushed excitedly to meet him, and they convened in the kitchen where he unpacked an unexpected number of groceries. There was onigiri for their lunch, and he'd even surprised her by buying a small bottle of off-brand hot sauce (Tabasco had been a little outside his budget). There were crackers and canned tea, soda, chips, and a package of dried squid Ataru swore he purchased by accident as he handed it off to her. He'd also taken the liberty of buying some noodles with the unspoken expectation that she'd be staying for dinner as well. Lum helped him load the fridge and cupboards, after which they took their lunches into the Livingroom. They drew up to the television, and during the meal found entertainment in reruns of Quiz! Sekai wa SHOW. Afterward, with the television relegated to background noise, they wandered off into conversations about the differences between Oni and Earth media and other small diversities of their respective cultures.

The afternoon they filled with more of the same, games and little talks and television. And as evening settled over Senshoo, they found themselves by the Livingroom window, sipping tea from a can, and watching the world in peaceful silence. The sky was murky with snow laden clouds through which the low-hanging sun broke feebly, throwing a vague radiance along the western horizon that faded eastward into a deepening darkness. A thin dusting of white lay over every surface, dotted here or there with small signs of life - alternating tracks through the sidewalk and long strokes carved through the street like charcoal rivers. The air was in a breathless calm, quiet and serene. Windows streamed golden light in places, boasting warmth and comfort in spite of the frigid winter evening.

Ataru felt as if he were lost in a dream that spanned eternity. He forgot his troubles, forgot to raise the walls that normally guarded his heart. He forgot to fear her gaze, or that he was supposed to recoil whenever they brushed against each other. And if not for the window, he might have even forgotten there was a world outside his small apartment. All that mattered, all that was important to him, was here within these walls, and he needed nothing else.

In interruption came in the form of Lum's communicator buzzing noisily from the corner of the room. They suspected it was Ten wondering when she'd be back. Ataru waved her off as she excused herself, and leaned against the window to stare dreamily out over the townscape. And in that moment of repose, an elation come over him. Images of the future swirled through his mind, inspired by the events of the day and formed using memories of their past life together. Images of a life shared.

Things would undoubtedly change if she came to live with him. Well, some things at least. The bedroom was certainly big enough for two futons, he reasoned based on visual estimations of the floor space. Storage space would be the bigger issue. No way his meager closet was big enough, not with her wardrobe. He could always ask his mom if she still had her spare dresser, and Lum could use that. From the bedroom he took to mentally assessing the other rooms of his apartment. The Livingroom needed no adjustments, aside from maybe an actual table and cushions. The bathroom, well, he didn't exactly own many toiletries; the vanity would be all hers. Now the kitchen...hmm. That might be a problem, particularly if Lum still insisted on forcing him to eat her cooking. Ataru's face grew stern as he thought of her rather explosive techniques, which would undoubtedly either push Mrs. Miwa to raising the rent or get them evicted entirely. There was only one choice left then...the real question was, how on earth would he block off the kitchen?

Oh and then there was Ten. Ataru frowned pensively, locked in a mental debate. Despite his small size, that kid was trouble, and together their antics had destroyed his room more times than he could count. Lum would have to employ some tough love if she wanted them all to live together. Ataru couldn't help grin devilishly at the idea of bringing down the hammer on that brat. And, well, in the privacy of his mind he could at least admit that he sometimes enjoyed their competitive spats. In any case he'd be at school most of the time, and when he wasn't, Ataru could just kick him out to play outside like his mother used to do with him.

While Ataru busied himself with daydreams, Lum floated into the kitchen to answer her cousin's call. She had barely flipped the communicator open when Ten's voice groaned pitiably from the other end.

"Lum."

Lum straightened with instant alarm.

"Ten! What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good." Amid a pile of wrappers and empty boxes was Ten, stretched out and bloated to twice his usual size. That was problematic enough, even without feeling incredibly sick. Although he knew she'd be furious, Ten was still just a child, and in this state of helplessness, he longed for motherly care and attention. "You need to come home."

"Of course! I'll be right there!"

"Good." Ten ended the call and dropped the communicator next to him.

Lum hung listlessly in the kitchen, the color and vibrancy drained from her. Slowly she closed the communicator, and her arms dropped to her side. Her wonderful day was over. It was time to go home. Back to her own brand of suffocating darkness.

"Was it the brat?" Ataru turned to ask when he heard the gentle shuffling of Lum's feet across the floor. But on seeing the despondence in her face his smile faltered and he studied her with growing concern. "Hey, what's up?"

"I have to go home." Lum answered without looking up. "Ten isn't feeling well."

Hearing this, and believing it to be a lie, Ataru snorted.

"He's faking." What else could it be but another dig at him to pull her away? Lum shook her head.

"No, he sounds awful."

"That's just his voice." Ataru chuckled at his own quip. Lum, however, regarded him sternly.

"Darling." There was no humor in her voice, no cheerful song. She was serious. A knot grew in Ataru's chest as they locked eyes and he felt a swell of resentment rise within him. She was really going to leave? Because of Ten? Why? That brat never needed so much attention when they all lived with his parents. Hell, he was basically a stray cat that came by only to eat and cause problems. It just didn't make sense! His stomach churned, his throat tightened. He didn't want her to go!

And then Ataru recognized that was the true meat of his refusal. He didn't want her to go. He wanted her here. With him. But...he wasn't supposed to want her here.

That's right. He wasn't supposed to want anything more than what they had already. Somehow - he didn't know how she did it - somehow Lum wormed her way into his head and made him lose sight of his hard-won freedom. That's what he told himself, and yet, the idea felt like poison in his mind. Ataru brewed and simmered miserably in this stew of conflicting emotions. He hated feeling this way, hated being in this position. His walls rose up again and he took to pushing her away like he always did when she got a little too close to his heart.

"Fine, whatever." Ataru turned from her with his arms crossed and vouchsafed his bitterness coldly. "Go home then."

Now Lum was looking at him, eyes wide and mouth slack, and she wilted as though her knees would buckle at any moment. Her darling, who had been so sweet and caring all day, was icing her out. And it wasn't even her fault! That was the worst of it - she hadn't done anything to deserve this. If he was upset, he should say so. Instead, he defaulted to old habits and turned everything on her. But things were different now. Lum was different. And she no longer had the strength to endure the weight of her responsibilities while shouldering his misplaced anger.

"That's not fair." The words tumbled faintly from her trembling lips. "You can't be upset with me." To end such a beautiful day like this? Arguing? After she finally felt they were really connecting? It was just too much. Lum's eyes glistened and Ataru was aware of a swift chill gripping his heart.

Were those – was she? No! Wait a second!

"Hey-" Ataru reached for her - this wasn't what he wanted at all!

"It's not like I want to leave!" Lum cried angrily as tears rolled down her cheeks in streams. Fire blazed out at him through her golden eyes, fierce and sharp. Why couldn't he understand that this wasn't what she wanted either? Yes, he was stubborn, but she hoped that after all this time he would have developed some sympathy!

"I'm responsible for him! I have..." The words died away, smothered by overwhelming hopelessness. After a pause, she took up with a dim, far-away voice. "A lot of responsibilities."

On paper, perhaps, it wouldn't seem like much. In reality though, Lum's life was comprised of many small struggles that, combined, were daunting. Making sure Ten got to school (and stayed there); dealing with his outbursts; meeting with agitated teachers; paying for supplies and clothes. On top of this her job was exhausting. At any moment they could demand she fly to Germany, or the Philippians, Ireland, or even America, anywhere, and then it was a scramble to find someone to watch Ten while she was gone. On top of that she had a stringent schedule that left her with barely enough time for a proper night's rest (less when she phoned Ataru). During the day she was lucky to shove something in her mouth between shots. On that note, her appearance and figure were under constant scrutiny too. In addition, Lum had to keep in mind the varying cultures surrounding her, whether in the workplace or abroad, or Japan. Not to mention all the unwanted advances from flirtatious men, and even threats from those who still held fast to her origins. Lum was tired yet forced to carry on as if she weren't. Ataru had no idea how much she cherished their time together. How much it meant to her, how much it mattered.

At least he hadn't, until now. Until he was faced with her sobbing, trembling, in the doorway of his Livingroom. She bore her heart before him, raw and unfiltered. He remembered the changes within her, recalled the poise and grace she'd adopted, and knew it could not have been easy to learn. All the stories she'd shared of travel and meetings read more like battle scars in light of her misery.

Suddenly his petulance felt ridiculous, and Ataru was deeply ashamed of himself.

"I know." he relented and stepped forward. "I know you do."

Just hearing those words unleashed a wave of relief within Lum, and she sobbed afresh as he approached her, burying her face in her wrists which were furiously and vainly wiping away the tears.

Ataru reached for her again and brushed his hand over her hair, cupping one of her horns in his palm and tracing the ridges affectionately with a thumb.

"C'mon cut it out." He coaxed her almost playfully. "It's not like you won't see me next weekend." Lum stared up at him, alarmed at the gentleness of his touch. Ataru shied away from her gaze and bashfully scratched the back of his head. "And, maybe, you know, big maybe, you could drop Ten off with Ran or something for a night and...I mean..." Ataru stammered, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

Lum thought her heart really might burst. A weight lifted off her shoulders, and she flung herself against her husband, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, crying happy tears into his shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Ataru let his arms slip around her in kind.

"Thank you darling!" She wailed between sobs. "Thank you!" Not because he offered to have her over again, but because he made the effort to understand her and empathize. That meant more to her than a hundred dates.

When the last of her tears had dried, Lum gathered her belongings in preparation to leave. Ataru followed her to the genkan and then out into the cold evening. Lum's eyes were still red, but she faced him with a bright smile.

"I had a lot of fun today Darling. We haven't spent a day together like this in a long time."

"Yeah." Ataru stared out over the town, dodging her soulful eyes, nervous and striving to hide his own smile. "It was kind of like being back in high school." Strangely, though it had scarcely been two years since graduation, Ataru felt like a lifetime had passed between now and then. Enough to saturate those days in rosy hues and inspire fond emotions. It filtered out his complaints and frustrations, turning them into mere footnotes of his lived experience.

"It was...really nice." Lum whispered beneath the brooding twilight, her voice touched with regret that it had to end. How desperately she longed for those days when the hours had no meaning and she was free to follow her whims and her darling wherever they may lead. Be it to school, or home, or on late night jaunts and afternoon bike rides. By the tone in her voice, it was clear she missed those days and cherished this one.

And Ataru found...he agreed. It was nice. It really, really was.

On instinct, or perhaps out of habit, he groped for an argument to counter her statement. Anything that could foster even a little bit of the expected normalcy of their interactions. After all, Ataru had spent years resisting the afflictions of his heart as fiercely and passionately as he was drawn to her, and it was difficult to shake those routines.

And yet there as nothing.

The whole of him, despite his searching, was in assent. There was nothing to argue. Nothing that wouldn't be completely fabricated, even outlandish to suggest. There was only peace and contentment and...something new.

Over the course of the day, despite his efforts, something had changed. A feeling that had been whispering through his subconscious up until now came suddenly roaring forward. How or when it happened didn't matter. He felt it now, coursing through him, insistent, powerful, warming his heart and his blood so all he could do was surrender to the truth that he wanted her to stay. Behind him sat a waiting darkness, a darkness that no light fixture could hope to vanquish. It was darkness in an abstract sense, and the only thing that filled his life with light was hovering before him.

And she was about to leave.

"Well," Lum began when the silence had stretched a little too long, "goodbye, Darling."

Panic welled up within him as she turned on the wind and sought the sky. Before he knew it, Ataru had lurched forward and grabbed her arm, the desperation he felt within written clearly on his face. It surprised him. In fact, it surprised both of them! Lum turned to lock eyes with Ataru, and for a brief flash of time they were lost in a moment of infinite understanding.

Ah, but being who he was, a man who still feared the depths of himself and all that it implied, Ataru promptly recoiled.

"Uh," he half laughed, embarrassed and annoyed that he'd acted so impulsively, "I didn't – that was -" Ataru looked away, uncertain and searching madly for a plausible excuse that didn't expose his underlying motives. But he was given no chance to find one. Lum's hands came up around the side of his face and he realized she'd descended back toward him. She was right in front of him now, drawing closer. And he knew, before their lips met, what she aimed to do. Ataru posed no argument, offered no resistance. He closed his eyes and let it happen. The world fell away, leaving only the two of them.

At once Ataru remembered where they were, and he thought of his neighbors and prying eyes and all manner of paltry concerns he'd unwittingly inherited from his mother. He drew back with a start, his brows creased, and a storm of conflicting emotions brewed behind his eyes. Words writhed in his throat, yet none could come out, for the pounding of his heart had choked him into silence. Lum was as the shore and he was the turbulent sea; she was calm and steadfast, and in her eyes shone a quiet joy. Without a word she pulled back to gaze on him tenderly. And Ataru could scarcely comprehend the magnitude of love radiating from her.

Still wordless - for what good were they in this moment - she drifted away from him, turning reluctantly for the sky once again. This time, Ataru let her go. And once she was out of sight, he retreated back into the waiting darkness.

I kind of really sympathize with Lum in this chapter. I mean at this point in the story she's 19 (technically 20 if you consider the age-up mushroom ring Rupa gave her) - side note, there is some speculation that Lum is either 6 months older or 6 months younger than Ataru and her birthday is in October. I subscribe to the idea that she is 6 months younger - still very young, and she's had to play the role of a mother and work a very demanding job (ty to my friend who provided some insights into the challenges of modeling!) while also fitting into a culture(s) that doesn't come naturally. In this chapter some of those feelings have come to the surface and she cracked a little bit. Because a lot of what she's gone through, both in this story and honestly in the manga, hasn't been fair to her. Yeah she's sort of been the architect of her own hardships, I won't excuse her for that. But even when things became mutual between her and Ataru, it wasn't like he acted any better toward her without having his back against a wall. Lum has come a long way, and she's done a lot of it largely on her own, even with the help of her friends. Anyway, without running the risk of this becoming an entire dissertation about Lum, I'll just sum it up by saying I feel for her, and I'm glad to give her some good fortune in this story.

This chapter also shows a pivotal turning point for Ataru and Lum.

At first Ataru wanted a chance at true independence to sort of get his jollies on before committing to anything, only to realize life as an adult, on his own, with a job and real consequences, wasn't all fun and games. Ataru missed Lum, and after trying to avoid the honest truth he was finally compelled to find her again, even begging Ten for her number.

Once they reconnected, they went through a period of rediscovery. They've both matured in some ways, and their natural chemistry has flourished through it all. And along the way their feelings have deepened. Of course, being who he is, and still reluctant to give up on his freedoms, Ataru has resisted taking their relationship further than it is.

But after spending the day together like they used to, just enjoying each other's company and being, for all intents and purposes, a normal married couple, Ataru actually opened up to the idea of living with her again. He found he might not be satisfied with the status quo after all: relegating their time to phone calls and dates on Saturdays. He was given a glimpse at a life lived WITH her, and it actually made him happy!

Considering there are only two chapters left, this realization couldn't have come sooner.

And thus we say goodbye to the last Winter chapter. Sorry we don't get to see how they spend the holidays together, there are a lot of things that I didn't have room for specifically in this story with my (self-imposed) 20-chapter limit because they didn't necessarily drive the plot - and the focus of this story is Ataru's emotional growth through the challenges of adulthood, and the maturation of his relationship with Lum. There will be some flashbacks, and possibly bonus chapters, but that's it.

Now we move on to Spring and the culmination of the year :3