Ocean Breeze (ch4)

EARLY RELEASE FOR MY $30+ PATRONS!

I'll admit, the idea of this one strayed a bit, but I think the main idea still comes through. Based off some things revealed from episode 6.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shiroi Suna no Aquatope.

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							Chapter 4.

That evening, after saying goodbye to their friends at the Kamee Diner, Kukuru and Fuuka make the brief drive home on Kukuru's moped just as the sun is setting. The sky swirls with reds and purples, the colors being drawn away from the world for the night at the epicenter on the horizon where the sun is just vanishing.

Kukuru has been feeling anxious all week with more rumors spreading of Gama Gama set to close at the end of the summer.

But today… after seeing what she had seen… or thought she'd seen while gazing fondly into the tanks…

"Kukuru-!"

"Uwah!"

Fuuka's sudden cry of her name from behind has Kukuru refocusing on her task of driving them home. She'd started to let them drift off the road a little and the moped had begun to skim the curb of the sidewalk. Kukuru quickly rights their trajectory and brings them back onto flat pavement.

"S-Sorry! Fuuka, are you okay?" She feels Fuuka's tightened grip around her stomach loosen a little bit.

"I'm fine. I was just worried you'd started to fall asleep or something. Are you okay?"

Kukuru gives a big nod in order to show her answer as much as she says it.

"Yeah! Sorry for spooking you."

"As long as you're all right."

Kukuru gives a small hum in response, making sure to focus properly the rest of the way.

Once they make it home, it's dinner as per usual with her grandparents. Though when Fuuka is taking her bath, Kukuru finds herself alone in her room, and her thoughts can't stop wandering.

The two maternity handbooks she'd found, one in her mother's handwriting with Kukuru's name, the other blank. The girl she'd seen today surrounded by colorful fish, smiling brightly, beyond Kukuru's or her parents' reach…

Part of her feels like she might know the answer, but she doesn't dare to let herself acknowledge it.

Her chest aches just to consider it, and she can already feel a stinging behind her eyes.

Kukuru crawls into her blankets and buries her face into her pillow for a few moments, trying not to let the images refill her mind again. She wants to keeps seeing them again, but it hurts…

When she hears Fuuka quietly enter the room, Kukuru promptly sits up. Fuuka, who had clearly been trying her hardest not to disturb her, frowns, and her shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay! I wasn't napping. Just spacing out."

Fuuka holds her gaze for a moment, and her eyes are so clear and knowing that Kukuru looks away to grab her pajamas.

"I'll go take my bath."

"Kukuru-"

Fuuka stops her on her way to the door, and Kukuru pauses to look back. She can see a lot in her roommate's expression, the conflict of making an offer that might sound too nosy or pushy for someone Kukuru had only just recently met, the fear that she might be intruding or making things worse by lingering on the subject.

But more than all of that, Kukuru can see her desire to help in any way she can.

In the end, Fuuka offers the faintest smile.

"I'll be here."

Nothing pushy. Nothing that makes Kukuru feel obligated to speak, or guilty to keep quiet. Just a reminder.

The ache that's been knotting itself inside Kukuru's chest all day feels like it unravels just a little bit. She smiles, dipping her head in response. Fuuka lightens her grip on her hand until Kukuru can slip away from her, but before she does she makes sure to give her fingers a grateful squeeze.

Kukuru takes her turn in the bath, and the moment she's submerged in the water, she drops her face down below the surface. She closes her eyes and holds her breath, hoping.

But the cramped, motionless water of her bath don't hold quite the same magic as the lively waters of Gama Gama. The only images that come to her are the ones she's already seen. Nothing new, nothing that would give answers.

With a sigh, she resurfaces and gets to cleaning herself off and washing her hair. Once she's dried and gotten dressed, Kukuru returns to her room.

Fuuka is sitting up in her futon reading another of Kukuru's books about marine life, and she's as invested as ever. Kukuru cracks a smile, grateful that her roommate is allowing this to be just another normal evening.

Kukuru sits beside her and offers comments about some of the creatures she's reading about.

They chat for about another hour, until both their voices start sounding sleepy. When Fuuka closes her book, Kukuru gets up to turn off the lights.

As they both settle down, Fuuka doesn't once bring up anything before Kukuru might be ready to. Kukuru is grateful that she isn't pushing her to talk, but rather being patient until she's ready to.

But she isn't sure she's ready - not yet.

So, in knowing Fuuka was likely waiting to hear from her first, Kukuru lets her know her feelings on speaking up by choosing not to just yet.

"Good work today as always, Fuuka," Kukuru says as she lies down to face her. "Goodnight."

Fuuka doesn't protest or combat her decision. She simply smiles.

"You, too. Goodnight, Kukuru."

But Kukuru just wants to make absolutely certain that Fuuka knows her silent offer is appreciated and not being ignored. So she reaches out her hand, letting it lay palm-up between them. Fuuka gladly reaches for it, laying her own hand against hers, lacing their fingers gently.

Kukuru closes her eyes, focusing on the slight but pleasant contact of her hand. Fuuka never squeezes too tightly, but just enough to let their fingers rest comfortably together. When Kukuru starts to relax, she can feel the faintest flutter of Fuuka's pulse tickling beneath her skin. It's steady and consistent, as is the soft rush of her breath, pulling in and pushing out, like the lull of the tide.

Kukuru finds herself inching just a little closer.

With her senses already being drawn into slumber, it's only a matter of moments before Kukuru finds herself underwater once again.

The fish swim freely and quickly in a spritely manner, and even the grumpy-looking sharks seem to smile a little. Kukuru is suspended like usual, treading intangible, temperature-less water. When she turns, she seeks out the people she knows are here waiting for her.

She finds her parents first. They're always together, just like her grandparents had told her they always were in life. Kukuru swims to them and throws her arms around them, sobbing, and they hold her back with the same strength and warmth she never really felt from them before they'd left her.

But even in the dreams and the visions, it certainly feels real, like she'd been held by them all her life, even when they were never really there.

When she finally lifts her face from their shoulders, Kukuru sees her again. That girl, with a face and eyes like her own.

Kukuru drifts away from her parents toward her, curious, but unable to ask her questions. The girl opens her arms, her eyes bright and eager.

But before she can reach her, Kukuru spots yet another person here, one she's never seen before in these images.

She turns, and Fuuka is there watching her with a smile. But Kukuru can't help but think she looks a little sad.

The moment Fuuka realizes she's been spotted, she frowns and quickly shakes her head, pushing herself away. Kukuru moves toward her, but the moment she changes course, the other girl begins to fade.

Kukuru yelps and turns back toward the girl and her parents, but by now they've all melted into soft shimmers of light beneath the water.

When she turns to look for Fuuka again, she's completely gone, and nothing but dark water remains in her place.

Kukuru treads helplessly at the center of them all, unable to make a choice.

So she simply curls in on herself and lets out a silent sob.

Perhaps it's because she's noticed the little nuanced changes in Kukuru's behavior recently, but Fuuka has been a bit more in-tuned to her than usual. The lapse in focus on their ride home had been enough to confirm her suspicions, but she didn't want to pry.

After all, in spite of how close they'd become over the weeks, she still can't help but feel like an outsider. She still knows so little about Kukuru and her family, and about this town in general. It's been difficult to prove to herself that she's doing this for Kukuru's sake, and not just to satisfy some ugly self-gratification.

This evening, after Kukuru has drifted off, Fuuka sleeps a bit uneasily beside her. She's worried about the aquarium, worried about Kukuru, and worried that her own motives might be anything less than pure.

She wants to help Kukuru with her dream first and foremost. She wants to help save Gama Gama, which is such a special place that holds precious memories to so many people in this town, and she wants to help the animals within it, too. If she should happen to find something for herself along the way, then so be it, but she doesn't want that to become her main objective and risk stealing the importance away from other more dire matters.

She's been struggling with these thoughts for a little over an hour now, swaying between sleep and consciousness all the while. But it isn't long after that when she begins to feel Kukuru's fingers twitching beneath her own. Occasionally, Kukuru's grip tightens, and Fuuka can only hope it's a pleasant or fun dream she's having.

Opening her eyes in the darkness, Fuuka peers at her roommate's face. Kukuru's expression is mostly peaceful, but there's just a bit of a crease in her brow.

Slowly, Fuuka props herself up a little and moves an inch closer, until she's lying on the floor between their futons. She strokes her fingers gently across Kukuru's hand, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort for her.

But within minutes, it's clear her efforts aren't working. Kukuru lets out a troubled sound, and her expression tightens.

Fuuka's heart sinks to see her in distress even when she's sleeping. She doesn't want to let it go on any longer if Kukuru is struggling. So she cups her hand more firmly over hers and calls out gently.

"Kukuru."

And at the same instant, Kukuru's eyes wobble open, bleary and puzzled and still halfway between a dream and here.

She looks at Fuuka, but it's clear she doesn't really see her.

The single word that comes from her mouth isn't quite the one Fuuka had been expecting to hear.

"Mom…"

It hurts, but not because Kukuru had mistaken her for someone else. It hurts because of who she'd mistaken her for.

Fuuka had never asked directly about Kukuru's parents, but she'd been able to infer enough. Though Kukuru did her best to hide it, Fuuka knew from living with her that she loved and missed her parents very dearly, every single day. And the fact that Fuuka had felt it necessary to run away from her own was probably like a slap in the face for Kukuru, especially now that she knew Fuuka's mother was such an honest person.

Fuuka had failed to consider how her actions might have been affecting Kukuru, who had lost her own mother before she'd even gotten the chance to properly know her.

So when Kukuru calls for that mother now, Fuuka doesn't have the heart to correct her.

She doesn't want to make her even more upset than she already is, but if she can provide just a bit of comfort for her, then that's what she'll do.

Fuuka doesn't breathe a word. She simply moves closer and opens her arms.

Kukuru lets out a watery sob and wraps both arms around her, shaking as she curls up into her chest. Fuuka folds her arms around her and squeezes her gently.

She hates lying to her like this. She hates that she might be letting Kukuru think these are the arms of her late mother, and if she remembers any of this when she wakes that it might only hurt her even more to understand it was only Fuuka. She hates that she might just be teasing her by letting her pretend.

But… Fuuka simply can't leave her like this.

Maybe she's only being selfish and doing what she thinks Kukuru would want. Maybe doing this is only going to make it all the more painful for her.

But she's already done it now, so there's no going back.

Fuuka holds her close, letting Kukuru believe she's whomever she wants her to be, so long as it might help her.

Perhaps the feelings of friendship, and whatever else might have been swimming around in the bottom of Fuuka's heart, aren't what Kukuru needs right now. Perhaps it is only family. If that's the case, Fuuka won't breathe a word of any other feelings of any other kind.

Kukuru's sobs eventually begin to die down, though her grip around Fuuka remains tight. Maybe it's cruel of her to do so, but Fuuka strokes gently through her hair.

"There, there…"

Kukuru lets out another little sob, then eventually grows quiet.

Fuuka continues holding her, trying to ignore the feelings twisting around in her chest.

It's guilt - guilt that she'd overstepped and done something that might only hurt Kukuru more in the morning.

And it's fear - fear that she might never be what Kukuru needs.

And even if she could be, it wouldn't matter anyway. Because she needs to go back to Okinawa at the end of the summer…

Perhaps this friendship has become so precious to her that Fuuka has lost sight of reality. But after escaping where she'd just come from, she's opting to lose herself in this temporary illusion, this summer fling, if it means she can finally breathe for a moment.

If only she could help Kukuru instead of hurt her.

If only she could be someone Kukuru wanted to keep in her life, someone she didn't want to let go of, be it as friends or something more…

Fuuka scoffs softly to herself, and only now does she feel the heat of tears falling down her face.

This isn't about her. It never has been. And it shouldn't ever be.

This is Kukuru's dream, and Fuuka is merely a part of it. However small or major that part is depends entirely on Kukuru.

So for now, Fuuka will just have to be here and do what she can.

And that's going to have to be enough.

Kukuru wakes from a dream of kaleidoscope colors, the way they look when a person is viewing them from beneath the water.

Even with her eyes still closed, she recognizes Fuuka's familiar scent wreathing around her, light and cozy, like sun-kissed feathers. Kukuru is aware of a pair of arms around her, keeping her snug, and she realizes her own arms around looped around Fuuka as well.

A soft, steady heartbeat has been drumming in her ear all night long, but now as she wakes to listen to it properly, it puts her at ease enough to wash away whatever unpleasant feelings might have still been lingering in her mind.

She'd come to know Fuuka's pulse a few times since they'd met, be it from hugging her or tickling her, or holding her hand or feeling her pressed up against her back on their drives, or from accidentally rolling on top of her in the middle of the night.

But as things are now, Kukuru can tell that hadn't been what happened this time. Rather than being haphazardly splayed out over one another, presently the two of them are curled together in a very deliberate position.

Kukuru feels a comforting sensation all throughout her body, the kind of feeling that only comes after a rare night of deep and very cozy sleep. No soreness from sleeping strangely, no grogginess in spite of the fact that she knows she didn't sleep the entire night. She just feels perfectly content right now.

And she knows it's all thanks to Fuuka.

Kukuru can tell by her breathing that Fuuka is still asleep. She nuzzles closer to her, settling in against the soft, steady thumping of her heart.

And it's now that Kukuru remembers the dream she'd seen last night, the images of the four other people beneath the water with her, the pressure of feeling like she had to choose-

And then the hazy moments after she'd woken, the figure she'd seen in the darkness, the word she'd mumbled…

Dismay surges inside her, effectively pushing away the calmness that had settled over her.

She'd called out for her mother, and yet the only person who'd been in the room with her was Fuuka. And Fuuka had chosen to comfort her without a second thought.

Kukuru doesn't like that she'd put Fuuka in such a delicate position, even without meaning to.

Of course Kukuru loves and misses her parents. But she can't imagine how conflicted Fuuka must have been to hear her say that last night, how it must have hurt her to choose between comforting Kukuru in letting her believe in a lie, or leave her alone in the coldness of the truth.

In spite of the fact that she had been thinking of her family last night… the second Kukuru had woken today, all she'd been thinking of was Fuuka.

Only her.

Her soothing scent, her comforting warmth, her familiar pulse…

As deeply as Kukuru misses her family, she is equally as happy to have found Fuuka.

Kukuru gives her rommate a light squeeze around her torso, burrowing into Fuuka's collar. Her heartbeat drums its rhythm, which Kukuru knows very well by now.

She's ashamed she might have believed Fuuka to be anyone but herself. Fuuka has sacrificed a lot for Kukuru's sake, and for the sake of Gama Gama. She'd put her relationship with her own family in jeopardy by running away, she'd put her own safety at risk by coming here alone without knowing anyone or anything, and she'd put her mentality at risk by taking a job where people could see her face and recognize her.

But even so, Fuuka had chosen this place. She'd chosen Gama Gama, and she'd chosen Kukuru.

Kukuru loves her in a different way than she loves her family, or anyone else.

She cuddles close to her, sending out a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god or fate had brought Fuuka to her.

After a few more minutes of keeping close, Kukuru eases away from the beat of her heart to glimpse Fuuka's face. She notices the faint trace of tear trails down her cheeks, and Kukuru whimpers softly.

"Sorry…"

She knows Fuuka had probably felt all kinds of difficult emotions last night. Of course she'd been upset Kukuru had called for her mother instead of her, of course she'd been sad to have herself eclipsed by the presence of someone else. But even so, she had done what she'd thought was best to help Kukuru feel better.

Kukuru hugs her tighter.

"Fuuka…"

All thoughts of her mother and father and that other mysterious girl are pushed to the back of her mind. Right now, Fuuka is all she wants, all she needs.

Fuuka was led to her.

Fuuka was the person she's been waiting for.

Fuuka was her answer, the person who would accompany her forward in achieving her dream.

"Fuuka…"

Kukuru murmurs her name again, her chest swelling with gratitude and affection.

And it's like this how Fuuka wakes that morning, being comfortably crushed by an exuberant embrace, hearing a soft, happy chuckle of her name. Her heart trembles with relief that Kukuru is all right, and Fuuka hugs her back.

Once Kukuru realizes she's awake, she lifts her face again to meet her eyes.

"Fuuka!"

And Fuuka had been expecting maybe a bit of sadness in her eyes, or a bit of sorrow in her voice. But there's none of that.

Kukuru's blue eyes are brighter than the summer sky, and her voice is happier than a child's the first time they see the ocean. Pure joy.

Kukuru smiles back at her so mirthfully it nearly has Fuuka bursting into tears on the spot from relief alone.

"Kukuru…"

She wants to ask if she's all right, but there's really no need. Kukuru's already given her answer in the tone of her voice alone.

"Fuuka!"

Kukuru returns to hugging her, bumping into her enough to roll Fuuka over onto her back. Fuuka catches her, giggling softly, her heart full of glee now in understanding Kukuru's feelings.

Kukuru hugs her tighter, and Fuuka returns it.

When Kukuru laughs and nestles into her neck, Fuuka ruffles her fingers through her hair.

And whatever they'd been needing to say has been conveyed and understood without words.

They each have people in their lives, family, friends, co-workers.

But no one else could ever possibly take the other's place.

Kukuru, who had accepted Fuuka into her life, trusted her, let her escape, let her be free, let her find a new path...

Fuuka, who had come to Kukuru when she didn't even know she'd needed her, helped her, comforted her, supported her through the challenges so far, and no doubt all the ones to come...

Perhaps it will only last the summer.

Perhaps it will end in tears, good or bad.

But what they have is special, precious, fated.

What they have can never be replicated or replaced.

What they have is theirs, and theirs alone.

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A/N: Ahhh it started out just being an idea of Kukuru calling for her mom in the middle of the night and Fuuka comforting her... and then all this just came spilling out.

I'm still on the fence about implying any romance between them because I know once I cross that bridge there's no going back haha. But I do still want to appreciate their real canon relationship as friends before I lose myself in fantasy.

I have a lot of thoughts about Kukuru's situation and the girl she saw with her parents... but we'll have to wait and see! Either I'll have a new chapter next week based off ep7 or one unrelated cuz I have another idea anyway!