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When the final reporter files out of the room and the doors close, Suletta flexes her previously clenched fingers and lets out all the breath she was clutching. Months later, it is still hard to be the public face of GUND-ARM, Inc.—the poster girl for their products, the cheerful pilot in all the demo videos, the ace of Asticassia, a celebrity, of sorts. And yet—
"Good job," Miorine says, leaning back in her seat and doing neck circles.
Suletta knows that this is not Miorine observing decorum nor Miorine flattering her. It's true. She's doing a good job. She is kicking butt at her job.
It's so much work, and she's tackling it all. She hasn't faltered or fallen behind. Sure, she's still made gaffs. Some social skills continue to elude her, and she's embarrassingly clumsy when she's not in contact with a mobile suit. But compared to when she arrived here, when she addressed every social situation from behind a human shield or tablet computer... it's night and day. Suletta is proud of herself. She knows she has gained this pride by advancing—by gaining all the other things she gained by advancing.
And Miorine's acknowledgment doesn't hurt.
Of course, Miorine is a little biased—they are engaged, soon to marry, as Miorine's birthday rapidly approaches. And things are good. Miorine is kinder to Suletta than to most people, but when it comes to her company, she's still the ice-cold princess of management strategy. She is exacting and strict. She favors brusque efficiency over coddling her colleagues. So when she tells Suletta "good job" after the press conference announcing a release date for the GUND format prosthetic legs their company finally has in production, Suletta knows these aren't merely the default words of a lover.
Her heart swells with joy at the things she, Miorine, and Nika have accomplished together. She smiles at her fiancée and returns the compliment.
At the same time, however, nerves gnaw at her.
She decided a while back that this company milestone was going to be the one after which she finally makes her move. It wouldn't have worked to bring this up during crunch, and anyway, she needed to wait. She needed to be certain of things—of her own feelings, and of those of her partners.
Suletta takes a deep breath. "Miorine, I need to go to the bathroom."
"Just go then?"
She nods and heads out of the lecture hall their company had commandeered for the press event. She doesn't go to the nearest bathroom. Instead she strides further afield, finding a dingy stall in a remote restroom on the third floor of a different building entirely. There she pulls out her student handbook. She makes a phone call.
"Suletta!" Her mother's voice is cold honey—sweet but hard. "What's wrong?"
"Um, nothing's wrong, Mom..." Suletta is glad she opted for a voice call. She is flushed, and her heart is racing, and she's sure her mouth is doing something undignified. "D-did you see the b-broad—the broad—the—?"
"The broadcast, Suletta? Yes. I couldn't be prouder of my future daughter-in-law."
Her mother's eager acceptance of Miorine used to exhilarate Suletta. When Suletta had shakily introduced Miorine to Lady Prospera at the incubation party as not only her fiancée-by-duel but also her genuine lover and intended bride, Prospera had been delighted. Suletta's relief at this had carried her for months, but...
"Um, what about me?"
"Of course. Did I raise you to second-guess my pride in you? You're doing a great job."
Suletta sucks in her breath.
"T-thanks, Mom..." She squeezes her eyes shut. "And, um, my—I mean, Nika—"
"Your CTO is clearly quite competent," Prospera says, in a tone that brooks no backtalk.
Suletta hangs her head. She almost loses her grip on her student handbook.
"Okay Mom. I gotta go."
Prospera doesn't say good-bye—she simply hangs up, as if this is what Suletta was asking her to do. Suletta lets the student handbook slip to the tile floor and she hunches over, crying.
She doesn't understand why things are this way. Her mother had always told her to advance, to be strong, to "gain two." And yet any mention of the girl who saved her life on her first day at Asticassia is invariably met with silence or patronizing condescension. Her mother refers to Nika Nanaura as Suletta's friend, her colleague, her classmate, her roommate... but she never acknowledges the relationship they actually have. And—shameful though it is—Suletta has found herself unable to argue. She tried once or twice, early on. She tried to tell her mom that they were all okay with it, that they all liked each other.
Lady Prospera had simply said "you're marrying the Rembran girl."
After that, Suletta essentially gave up. She stopped trying to tell her mother about the fun and charming things she and Nika got up to. She stopped trying to get advice for dates—where to go, what to wear. She stopped wearing her mother's headband when she was with Nika, and increasingly at other times. She stopped calling her mother as much, even though she missed her all the time.
Today, she wanted to tell her mother something important. Something that family should celebrate, according to all the old Earth television she's seen on Aerial's monitors. And she couldn't.
She told Aerial already weeks ago about her plan. Aerial approved. Why wouldn't their mom?
A month earlier, at movie night, Nika had said Suletta "definitely has mom stuff."
Was this what she meant?
Suletta clutches her head, curls into a ball, and screams into her thighs. Today was supposed to be a victory. A day she could... stop advancing, for a minute. A day she could just appreciate how far she's come and how happy she is. And now she doesn't feel happy at all.
"Is someone there?"
Suletta snaps to her feet, skin going cold as she realizes someone else has entered the bathroom. Suletta can't place the voice. There's a familiar edge to it, but it's so small and scared and weak.
Hesitantly, she cracks her stall door.
Standing by the sinks, hands deep in her coat pockets, tears on her cheeks but fight in her brow, is Chuchu. Her expression relaxes when she sees Suletta—and then she laughs.
"I should have known it was you."
"S-senpai," Suletta says, padding out of her stall and standing at an optimally awkward distance from her housemate. "Are you okay?"
Chuchu cackles. "Do I look okay? And shit, worry about yourself."
"Oh." Suletta wipes her face on the white sleeve of her Holder's jacket. "Sorry."
"Whatever. What's got you all fucked up, anyway? I haven't seen you cry like that since those drills we failed."
There's something about being disciplined for getting into a fistfight on each other's behalf that brings even the most natural of enemies together. Suletta has no more fear of the girl who once threatened her with a wrench. In the intervening months, they have become something like good friends. When Chuchu calls Suletta a Spacian, it is usually with a fond, teasing tone. Working together—at the company, or on Earth House chores, or drilling Chuchu on some of the finer points of mobile suits operation—is always a blast.
Never, in any of their time together, has Suletta seen Chuchu crying.
"Um. I cry a lot," Suletta says. "I'm okay."
"Pfft. Okay. Sure, and I'm the president of the Benerit Group." Chuchu stares into space a moment, considering the words. "I guess that's not that outlandish, huh? You're gonna be president of the Benerit Group soon, kinda. First Lady, maybe. Hell, I could do it if I beat you in a duel."
"Senpai?"
"Hah, the look on your face."
Suletta sighs. "Do you think I should marry her?"
"Haaaaaahhh?!" Chuchu furrows her brows and grimaces. "What the fuck? You gettin' cold feet or something?"
"Yeah."
"Gross. Be a man. You know, metaphorically."
"I want to," Suletta says, meekly. "But... Nika..."
"Sis is fine with it, right?" Chuchu crosses her arms. "You guys have been doing all this consensually, right?"
"Yeah, yes, yes."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Um." Suletta leans back against the bank of sinks, flexes her toes inside her boots, and counts the green tiles on the wall. "There's someone else who doesn't... approve."
"Of you and Miorine? Lemme guess—Papa-in-law?"
"No... of me and Nika."
"Huh? I'll beat them to a pulp."
"Please don't do that."
"No, seriously. I'll fucking go. I've never seen Sis this happy. Anyone who spits on that can catch these hands."
"I don't want her to get hurt."
"Well that's up to her, isn't it? She can accept your relationship with Nika if she doesn't want to wake up in a med bay."
"Seriously, Chuchu," Suletta says. "Please stop talking about beating up my mom."
"Your—" Chuchu looks away. "Oh."
"Yeah."
They stand in silence for a while.
"I guess Mercury's pretty conservative," Chuchu says, after a bit, mirroring one of the first things Miorine ever told Suletta. "Not like polyamorous relationships are super common here, either."
"Polyamorous?"
"I'm sorry, did you not know there was a word for what you're doing?"
Suletta shakes her head. She knew, but it's a niche topic in the old Earth television she watches, usually played for laughs. The word doesn't feel good on her tongue. "It's bad, right?"
"Bad?" Chuchu snorts. "Does it feel bad?"
"... right now it does."
"But that's not how you really feel, is it? You're just sad about your mom."
"Probably. You don't think it's weird?"
"I think it's weird that Nika and Miorine like each other," Chuchu says. She catches Suletta's questioning glance. "Hah, I'm kidding, don't worry. No, none of it is weird. You wanna know why I'm here, ditching class and blubbering like a loser? Not that you're a loser! I just—I feel self-conscious, sometimes, okay?"
Suletta can't help but giggle through her tears. "Yeah."
"Well, I miss home."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm homesick, Suletta." Chuchu takes a deep breath. "I miss my dads."
"Your dads?"
"Yep. I've got six of them." Chuchu waits, probably anticipating shock, but Suletta just watches her expectantly. "You'd think that with an excess of dads, I'd be fine, but... really it just means I've got more parents to miss. I... come here, not infrequently. I can't let the Spacians see me being all soft." She pouts a little. "You don't count."
Suletta gets her meaning. "Do you want a hug?"
"Don't push it, Spacian."
"Eheh."
"Anyway, I... I don't get what you're going through, not really, but my dads are great. And there's nothing wrong with them. So I don't think there's anything wrong with you, either. If you dump Sis to make your mommy proud, though—"
"I'm not going to do that," Suletta promises.
"Okay then."
Suletta doesn't know what she will do, but she wishes Chuchu would have said yes to the hug. She feels cold and sad. Chuchu's acceptance feels good, but it raises more anxiety than it relieves. She's never doubted her mother before. She's never wanted to, and she's never had cause to. But she knows that Chuchu is right. What she and Miorine and Nika have is good. It's great. It's saved all of them, in different ways, and it works well, and they're all so happy.
"I do know people make fun of me for being a mama's girl," she says.
"Yeah, it's not subtle," Chuchu replies. Suletta hears the ambiguity, understands that her critics aren't subtle and neither is she.
"You love your dads, though."
"Yeah. It's probably easier with six of them, to be honest. Your mom's the only one you had, right?"
"Besides Aerial."
"Right, besides your Gundam..." Chuchu gets a faraway look in her eye, then taps her fingers on the counter. "Anyway, with six dads, none of them really got to control me, you know? I was a terror—if one of them told me to do a chore, or something, I'd say a different dad told me I didn't have to. They had to collaborate on raising me, and I got to be part of that process. It wasn't particularly top-down. I know you say you had Aerial, but Aerial didn't—Aerial never stood up for you, did... she?"
Suletta's heart quivers. "She can't talk to me the way people do," she says. "But she can talk to me in a way people don't, you know. I don't say this often, because people laugh, but... I feel like I know what she's thinking. And even when things were bad, back on Mercury, she was there for me. She's always loved me."
"No, that's cool," says Chuchu.
"Yeah?"
"What does she think of Sis?"
"I think she loves Nika even more than me, to be honest." Suletta gives Chuchu a lopsided grin. "Nika knows machines. She speaks their language."
"She's pretty cool."
"She's really cool."
"Alright, alright, spare me the lovey-dovey stuff, Mercury. What's the plan?"
Suletta takes a deep breath. She'd been wondering the same question. She'd hoped to ask Chuchu for direction, for advice—but she finds herself realizing she doesn't need to. She hasn't figured everything out, but Chuchu's reassurance has reminded her that she already knows what to do.
"I'm going to go find my partners," she says.
"Cool."
After Chuchu insists that she is okay, and actually could use a little alone time in this bathroom thinking about her home back on Earth and maybe crying a little more—it's fine, just don't tell a soul, or else so help her—Suletta and Chuchu exchange a fist bump.
"Thanks," Suletta says, in the bathroom doorway.
"Shut up," says Chuchu.
Suletta texts Nika and Miorine, asking them to meet at Aerial's mooring.
She makes a pit stop at Earth House to freshen up. She leaves Prospera's headband at the bottom of her nightstand drawer and takes out her ponytail, allowing her hair to fall loose and shaggy around her face and on her neck. She used to hate the feeling of it touching her skin, but she feels better in her skin these days. There is optimism in her stride as she sets out for the hangar.
Her fiancée and girlfriend are already there when she arrives, each scrolling through something on her respective student handbook—but arm in arm as they do so.
"What's this about, Suletta?" Miorine calls out, with some exasperation but no animosity. "You know our investors want to meet about the press."
Miorine Rembran is no longer the angry girl Suletta remembers from her first, drama-filled days at Asticassia. She's kinder to everyone, in a way, and she moves through the world with more patience. Even when she speaks harshly, it is a self-aware caricature of her former self. Through her victories—and through her surrenders—she has freed herself of so many of her erstwhile burdens, and Suletta can't wait to see this trend continue long into the future. How far will they go? How much will they change, together?
Suletta recalls the moment when she realized Miorine liked her. The realization had caused her distress at the time, because of—
Nika blushes faintly as Suletta approaches. "You look good."
—Nika Nanaura. The Mechanics student with most of a smile was the first person at Asticassia to say Suletta's name. She spoke with a tone that was more polite than kind, and Suletta recognized the heat of recent tears at the corners of her eyes. That sad girl with the fake smile captivated her, led her through stairwells and storage rooms and hedge mazes and goat stables with a dizzying sexual dynamism that made the rest of the world fall away at times... and now that sad girl is gone. Suletta can't remember the last time she saw Nika fake a smile. The Earth House engineer beams with genuine positivity when she sees her girlfriend.
Suletta's grip tightens on the box in her jacket pocket.
"I want Aerial to hear this," she says. "Wait a sec, okay?"
Miorine sighs, Nika nods, and Suletta scrambles up into the cockpit to turn on Aerial's systems. She descends in a hurry, almost scraping her knee in the process. Her heart is furious, pounding so loud she's sure everyone in the hangar can hear it, but her head is oddly calm and quiet.
"Um," she begins. A great start. She looks down at the catwalk, then back up at her lovers' faces. They are expectant, smiling softly. "M-Miorine... Nika... um." Miorine raises an eyebrow, Nika's smile widens. "It's almost your birthday, Miorine."
There is a flicker of understanding in her partners' eyes.
"What of it?"
"If you want to escape to Earth," Suletta says, "and not, um, marry me, you'd best get on that."
Miorine rolls her eyes and Nika chuckles.
"Is that all?" Miorine asks.
"Ah, no. You're not running?"
"Move forward, gain two, right?"
Suletta flushes and nods vehemently. "Right."
"I'm staying," Miorine says. "I thought we'd already talked about this."
"Yes, but." Suletta looks to Nika, then back to Miorine. "I wanted to make sure."
"You're stuck with me, Suletta."
"Good." Suletta knows she's not doing a very good job of this, but she also knows that Miorine and Nika love who she is. There's no way to fuck this up—not really. She takes a couple deep breaths. "Um. Nika."
Nika's response is faint. "... yes?"
"I don't... I don't think it works like this, legally, but you know you're not, ah, Miorine's not—what I'm trying to say is—"
"Suletta, she knows she's not secondary," Miorine huffs. "She's my girlfriend too, you know?"
Suletta squeaks. "Yes, well. Yes. But. You're—you're both important to me."
"I should hope so."
"Let her finish, Mio."
"Sorry," Suletta says, "I'm awkward, and I'm dumb, and this is probably cheesy, and you'll scold me for spending my pay on something that probably doesn't matter, but—"
"Suletta," Miorine says, unhooking her arm from Nika's and moving forward to place a hand on Suletta's shoulder, "you're the furthest thing from dumb. What did you buy?"
Suletta's legs betray her, and she collapses to her knees—not in the dignified way she'd hoped for, not the way it was always done in the shows she's watched. Miorine and Nika follow her to the cold metal floor. She gulps, and shivers, and fumbles with the box in her pocket.
"You won't laugh?"
"Never," Nika promises. Miorine nods, and brushes Suletta's cheek—the contact feels moist, and Suletta realizes she's crying again. "You're our person, Suletta."
"Oh." This isn't new, but it feels important to hear. "Um, thanks. I like being your person." Suletta winces. "But I also... want to be your groom."
She pulls the box out of her pocket.
"Suletta," Miorine gasps. Nika's jaw drops.
"S-sorry," Suletta says, a fraction of a second before their arms are around her.
"Don't apologize," Nika says.
"Well, let's see them."
The rings Suletta has commissioned are simple and hopefully appropriate. Miorine is capable of elegance and glamor, but her true self is the spreadsheet nerd who would rather solve another math problem than take out the trash. And Nika, ever the butch engineer, would rather be caught dead than in something frilly or sparkly. The black velvet box is fancier at a glance than the rings themselves. The bands are a gleaming solid white on the outside. The inside of the shank is adorned with tracery of blue, black, and gold.
"Oh my god," Nika gasps. Miorine is silent, but her eyes shine with emotion.
"Um, I had them made out of, ah, scraps from Aerial's c-cladding," Suletta explains, still extremely nervous—though she's pretty sure that her lovers are pleased. "It felt, um, meaningful? And like... it's who we are, maybe, and—ugh, I'm sorry, I'm—I know I don't have to apologize, but I had this all so perfect in my head, and—when the time comes, Nika, Miorine, will you marry me?"
"Yes," they say, in unison.
It takes several minutes for the three of them to stop crying, laughing, hugging, and kissing.
Somewhere in that time, the rings find their way onto their intended fingers. No matter what will or won't be recognized by Spacian law, no matter what will or won't be recognized by Delling Rembran or Lady Prospera—the three are committed to each other. Waves of relief flood through Suletta as she leans into the three-way embrace. They are a unit, bound to each other and happy to be so bound.
Eventually, they sit back from each other on the catwalk, catching their breaths, aware, finally, of how many passersby observed this moment. Huddled together at the top of one of the catwalk access staircases—on the landing atop a stairwell, in a sense—they are pretty exposed. Some of the mechanics and pilots in the hangar applaud them; Chuchu is among them, beaming. The positive reception isn't unanimous. They receive disgruntled looks from a couple Jeturk and Grassley House kids, but this doesn't bother any of them. The only problem, now, is:
"You know we don't take a salary?" Miorine asks, biting her lip.
Suletta knows. GUND-ARM, Inc. is doing well, but the C suite isn't paying themselves yet. Miorine and Nika are putting everything back into the company in these early stages. "So?"
"So I can't buy you a ring, dummy."
"Oh." Suletta feels a thrill that doesn't quite make sense. Miorine has said yes; Miorine wants to marry her. Why should she be surprised that Miorine wishes she could buy her a ring in turn? "But I don't need anything," she hurries to say.
"You don't want our gifts?" Nika asks.
"Wait—what?"
Miorine looks at Nika and nods. Nika continues.
"It was... kind of obvious you were planning this, Suletta. No, you didn't give it away, you were plenty stealthy, it's just... we knew how you felt. And we felt the same. We talked about this; what to do for you, how to show you our commitment."
Suletta lets out a choked sob. "Huh?"
"It's silly and cheesy and entirely unbecoming," Miorine sniffs, "but you're silly and cheesy, so you're probably going to like it."
"Who first?" asks Nika.
"Mine's simpler," Miorine says. "Here, let's get this over with." She's blushing as she produces her student handbook. "Look, it's not like this is a big expensive gift or anything, okay? But I, uh, I taught myself some programming, and I hacked the stupid Holder stuff, and... well, anyway."
She taps her student handbook to Suletta's chest, and Suletta's uniform changes color.
The right half of it stays the same—white, with black trim and gold detailing, the colors of the Holder's uniform. The left half of Suletta's uniform reverts to the normal school colors.
Suletta begins to stammer something incoherent, but Miorine quickly leans over and taps her student handbook to Nika's chest. The left half of Nika's uniform shimmers, and then it changes to match the right half of Suletta's.
"There, now you're both the Holder," Miorine asserts. "And you match! So cute. Yay."
Beneath her fiancée's sarcasm, Suletta detects a deep desire for this to have been a meaningful gesture. And it is: Miorine is accepting both Suletta and Nika as her fiancées. Suletta pulls her into a bear hug. "I love it, Miorine."
"Yeah," Nika agrees.
"I love you, dummies," says Miorine.
After another round of hugging and kissing and I-love-yous, Nika insists it's her turn.
"Remember when I asked for my knife back?"
Suletta remembers it well—it was the day after their first real threesome. She'd tried to return Nika's knife to her several times prior, and Nika had always refused. When Nika finally asked for it, Suletta had assumed there was a meaning to the request, but she hadn't pried. As far as she knew, Nika was still mortified about having pulled it on her all those months back in the Earth House goat stables.
"Yeah."
"Well, um, here."
Nika extends her hand, switch blade knife in her upturned palm.
Suletta almost says "I don't need a knife," her instinct to reassure Nika that everything is safe and good now. But she catches herself. This is a moment of commitment and gift-giving, and if Nika thinks their bond is best cemented with a knife, she will do her best to understand that and cherish it.
She takes the knife from Nika, who shudders as it leaves her hand.
"I dulled it," Nika says, after taking a moment to compose herself. "And I had a catch machined in, so you won't pinch yourself too bad if you get a finger caught in the mechanism or whatever. I know it's silly, but I don't need it anymore, and I thought you could use a fidget to keep your hands occupied in those big company meetings, and..." She gulps. "And it would mean a lot to me if my old... if my..." Tears shimmer in the corners of her eyes. "If something that used to give me strength could give you strength instead."
Miorine rubs Nika's back as Suletta plays with the knife, flipping out the blade a couple times. It does feel good, mechanically, in her hands—and beyond, with a pleasant tingle creeping up her spine and into her scalp.
"Okay," Suletta says. "And I'll be your knife from now on, okay?"
"Me too," Miorine says.
Nika nods, and then the tears become full-on bawling.
"I love you both so much," she says, when she's able to.
Suletta, Miorine, and Nika smile at each other. Suletta takes in the weight of the moment. Their clothes have shifted color. Miorine and Nika are wearing rings. Suletta has Nika's knife in her pocket. Things unsaid have been said—things worth saying, even if they weren't unexpected. Suletta is surprised to find, however, that at the end of all that, things feel remarkably unchanged.
The commitment the three of them share is not new or sudden. It is the result of most of a year's worth of labor. Naming it and celebrating it is important, but Suletta understands that it existed before the rings. It was palpable. It was inevitable.
There was never any real question of what she should do.
When Miorine excuses herself—she really does need to talk to the investors, sorry—and Nika is pulled away—Chuchu needs her advice, it seems—Suletta climbs back up into Aerial to power her down before resuming her day.
But her finger hesitates on the power control, and she relaxes into the pilot's seat instead. She closes her eyes.
"You saw all that, right? Mom's gonna be so mad."
Aerial responds with the most comforting ping Suletta has ever heard.