AN: Kotori is so hard to write! This chapter killed me. I actually worked on my boring literary srs business story in an effort to put this off.
Mentions of unhealthy relationship shit.
Kotori hadn't known.
On some level, maybe, the information now glaring on Umi's laptop screen had occurred to her. Subconsciously. But she'd been happy to ignore it, happy to ignore the long sighs and late pacing, happy to ignore the occasional questioning from Umi as to where she was going that night, and who she would be with. Kotori had let these things slide, with Umi so stressed from work and a thousand unspoken conversations about the nature of their polyamorous relationship still weighing upon them.
She hadn't opened up Umi's laptop with the intention to spy. That's what she told herself, anyways, as she had let her phone die at work all day. (It had been a relief, to get back to work, back to the farm, back to refining her designs after the llama stalls had been cleaned, after Umi had left to do god knew what with that American secret service agent. Kotori had liked Mary, possibly liked Mary more than Umi did, but it was still hard not to resent the women who was stealing away her girlfriend on some secret government job.) Rin had emailed her several ring designs she was considering, and had asked Kotori to look over them for her, unsure of materials would be best. Would it be silly to use our Love Live colors for the stones, nyah? Kotori was not sure if she considered it tacky or not, but if someone had made a color-coded set up for Kotori, Umi, and Honoka when they all were dating, she probably would have gone for it at the time. Love did funny things to taste.
Kotori was just going to check her email, she told herself. As she tapped the keyboard waiting for the computer to start up, she studied the background. It was a picture of her and Umi; their awkward smiling faces in front of a boa constrictor exhibit. She remembered it had been taken shortly after Honoka had left. On that road trip after they left New York, after Honoka had said a teary goodbye with a muffled apology. It'd been a tense, uneasy trip, Kotori recalled, driving from roadside attraction to roadside attraction, all the while Umi grunting into her phone for work.
She clicked on the internet icon and a window with several tabs sprung up. Russian-to-Japanese dictionaries, graphs and equations, a confirmation of a flight to Japan, and Umi's work email, that Kotori quickly clicked away from, but did not close. What could possibly be so important that Umi would lie to her, the way she did? What could have Honoka done to make this happen? She looked through her own email; Rin, her mother, Nico sending her emails with titles like VERY IMPORTANT and a single link that always ending up being a stupid remix of one of Kotori's old singles, and fashion school responding to her inquiry.
It was after Kotori had begun to respond to Rin's email- Kotori had liked the topaz and emerald designs, but thought the ring design itself was too flashy- that an email sprang up over Kotori's browser window, its text bolded and colored and at least size 16 font, least Kotori even attempt let her eyes glaze over the contents.
HEY! SALT! Several excited, adorable star-eyed emojis followed this first line. (Whether this was in admiration for Umi, or deliberately aware of Umi's disdain for cutesy emojis, Kotori was not sure.)
!WE CRACKED THE LAST BIT OF THE CODE OFF THAT FLASHDRIVE. ARE YOU EXCITED? I'M EXCITED. CHECK OUT THE FILES I ATTACHED. THIS IS CRAZY. GOOD THING YOU BANGED THAT RUSSIAN AGENT, HUH? REALLY TOOK ONE FOR THE TEAM THERE. ;) TOO BAD SHE KICKED YOUR ASS AMIRIGHT?
Kotori stopped breathing.
WELL, HERE'S HOPING WE DON'T EXPLODE THE ATMOSPHERE OR WHATEVER. I DON'T REALLY GET THE DATA BUT KUROSAWA ANALYZED IT AND SAID YOU'D KNOW WHAT IT MEANT.
L8R
xoxo your favorite hacker
p.s. pls don't end the world kthxbai
/
After Honoka had left to go back to Japan, Umi had announced she'd be staying in the States, and that she had found work as a hunter. Kotori had been doubtful that would have been steady work, but Umi insisted it would be enough to pay the bills, and had laid a pelt of an animal Kotori did not recognize on the hotel bed. "This goes for quite a lot of money. We'll be eating brunch every day of the week at that sweet shop you like so much."
At the words sweets shop, Kotori winced. Umi pretended not to notice and continued. "There's a little city in the state over. A range out there needs someone to give archery lessons sometimes, and there's more than one boutique who could use someone like yourself."
"I… I don't know. I miss being on tour." They had not played any shows after Honoka left. "I miss…. all of us."
A hardness crept into Umi's voice. "Do you want to go back to Japan too, Kotori?"
"I was… considering it. Leaving, at least" She'd been looking at art schools in Japan, France, the United Kingdom. (Not the States- an art school there was triple the cost of one of Paris's best fashion schools, to Kotori's amazement.)
"You don't have to stay here. You can leave whenever you want." Her face was like a stone, her voice smoothed out and flat . What did Umi think she was going to do, she wondered? Kotori tried to imagine Umi out here, all by herself. Umi would put on a brave face, of course. She would have never complained. But why would Umi want to stay here in the first place?
"No! I… I want to be here. With you. But…"
"But?"
"I just don't understand why you would want to be in the States anyways."
Umi sighed, and did not say anything for a few moments. She unwrapped the plastic hotel cup from its wrapper, the sound violent and irritating. Another sigh. With trembling hands, she twisted the knobs of the sink and poured herself a glass of water. "I…" She took a long sip. "I have a lot waiting for me back in Japan."
"The dojo?"
"Yes!" The cup crinkled in her hands, water suddenly dripping onto the carpet. "It's… it's so much, Kotori. My father… Wouldn't he be disappointed in me now? I… told him I'd wanted to further my music career, before coming back. He doesn't know about you, or…" Shaking, she sat down next to Kotori. "He doesn't know about anything."
At that, a swell of pain rose in Kotori's chest. Her father didn't know. Why would he? They were adults. It wasn't as Umi's personal life was his business. And yet… well, she'd let a few things slip to her mother in her own emails, who had only responded with, "took you long enough." Kotori had never heard Umi complain about inheriting a dojo, but then, Umi did not complain, unless it was about Honoka. "So… archery lessons and hunting in the States, then. Until you're ready to go back." She wondered if Umi was prolonging the inevitable, of telling her father about them, that she might have aspirations beyond what had been determined for her.
"Yes."
"And it shouldn't be an issue, for now?"
Umi shook her head. "I haven't asked."
All of this was very strange, in Kotori's opinion; Umi used to call her father every night, used to tell Kotori how honored she was to take over the dojo someday. But now did not seem like the time to press Umi, when she was opening up about it. "It'll be okay, Umi. We'll get through all of this together."
Her girlfriend squeezed her hand. "We will."
/
At first, she hadn't stopped speaking to Honoka over email. Was it wrong, to talk to Honoka when Umi had all but exiled her? The three of them had not defined their relationship, ever. They had been a nebulous cloud of feelings, with Honoka as the odd one out in public; Umi hardly could handle being with a girl, let alone two girls. Always, Kotori typed to Honoka with the laptop or phone facing away from Umi; always, with Umi's eyes narrowed. It left Kotori with a guilty feeling, that she was somehow doing something wrong. When Umi had been assaulted and went to the hospital, Kotori had more or less stopped emailing Honoka. It had been so hard, not to open up to Honoka, not to see Honoka's name pop up in her email. But— there had been a distinct sense of secrecy, with Umi asking her not to tell Honoka anything about her work or what she was doing. (Too late, of course, Kotori had told Honoka all about the hunting job, the llama farm where they stayed; but after that, she hadn't said much.)
They'd had a fight about Kotori talking to Honoka, on that road trip after New York, outside of the Route 66 Reptile House for Wayward Lizards. (Kotori still remembered the grafitti'd picnic benches; carved initials inside a heart; crossed out with brutal slashes of a red sharpie.) They'd fought, because Umi had caught her emailed a picture of a cute snake to Honoka.
Umi had gotten straight to the point, not even a minute out of the gift shop, their gelato gator cones not even dripping in the unseasonably warm evening. "Are you still talking to Honoka?"
"Is… is that bad?" Whizzing cars roared past them, and Kotori had to raise her voice a little just to be heard, giving her an edge she didn't mean for. (An edge she hadn't meant to be heard, at least.)
"She's…" Umi clenched her teeth. "You have no idea just how irresponsible she is, do you?"
"I…" This felt so incredibly unfair. One day Honoka was there, and the next she was gone. And Kotori had no control over any of it. "I don't actually! You… wouldn't tell me. I asked you. But you never told me what she did."
"You know I wouldn't lie to you. It was serious, Kotori. You should be glad she left when she did."
"I trust you, but that doesn't explain-"
Umi's amber eyes darkened with the fading light of the evening. Low simmering growls oozed out of the Route 66 Reptile House for Wayward Lizards house. As if the crocodile's cries were articulating Umi's emotional landscape. "I can't."
"You… you broke up with our girlfriend, and you can't tell me why?" A small, modestly dressed woman and her three children stared at the two girls as she walked them back to her minivan. Kotori might have felt shame, if not for the pulsing sensation of wounded feelings; tears were welling, and she didn't care at all.
"Is that what Honoka was? Our girlfriend?"
"You're the one who invited her into bed, aren't you? You were the one who said all of those things! And then we just… we hid her…." It wasn't how the polyamory blogs said these things were supposed to go, Kotori thought. It was supposed to be sharing and communicating their feelings and brunches. Not… not this. Not arguing and pain.
"I… I was drunk! She… you know we always…" A wayward komodo dragon thwapped its tale on the thick glass window. "Honoka was just…"
"Convenient?"
The word had hit its mark, Kotori noted with guilty satisfaction, watching Umi's face contort into angry lines. "I don't see why you're so concerned with her and not with me! I'm your girlfriend now, not her!"
"I still care about her. She's still my friend. It's not like I'm the one who broke up with her! You… you did!" She threw her now-melting gator gelato at the nearest trash can, and started walking in the opposite direction of Umi, towards the rolling countryside along the highway.
"Kotori!"
/
Kotori had wished she kept walking away from Umi, back then.
The ticking of the kitschy llama clock was grating on her ears, a minute and a half faster than the laptop. When they moved to the little farmhouse, everything had been synched together perfectly. Now… everything was discordant. Off.
She would have understood, if Umi had just told her about it. It had been for work. Hadn't it? She would have been okay with it. If she's just told her.
Everything Umi had told her had been a lie. About her job. Her injuries. Why, Kotori assumed, they'd stayed in the States. Had Honoka even done anything wrong? Or had that been another lie of Umi's?
It was time to leave, Kotori thought. This wasn't her house. It was time to go home. To see her mother. And maybe, if Honoka wasn't busy with classes and Maki, to see her.
She only texted one thing, to Umi.
"I know."