Both the officers and your boss insist you simply must join them for drinks later this evening. This victory deserves celebration, after all, and it wouldn't do for the woman of the hour to be missing. They even go so far as to hand you the card of the bar you're most likely to find them in.
Nonetheless, it is relatively simple to disentangle yourself from their attention. After all, as the one who had brought Imiko here, it was your responsibility to walk the charming lady home.
"It's a pity such a delightful day must end so soon." Imiko opines, her tone deliberately casual as you follow the road back to town. You're both taking your time, letting the day's heat slowly fade as the afternoon winds on.
"Is that what you want?" You ask, feeling bolder than usual. Even with the fading sunlight, you still see the edges of a blush creeping into her cheeks.
"Do you want to come home with me?" It's your turn to blush, a fierce red that burns your skin. You bashfully scuff your shoes in the dust as she loops her hand into your elbow, content to go without an answer for the time being.
Suburban fields turn to urbanity quickly enough. As you pass a food stall, you can't help but notice how empty your stomach is. And unless she's squirreled some snacks away in her bag, you can't imagine Imiko has eaten any more recently.
The question leaves your mouth almost without thinking. "Would you like to go for dinner first?"
"I thought you would never ask." Imiko's smile calms the butterflies that have suddenly appeared in your stomach. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"
"I… do not know."
She laughs, gripping your arm tighter.
"Didn't you have enough time to think?"
"No, I mean… I have not been to a restaurant since I got here."
"At all?"
"I usually eat at the factory or at home. I'm used to cooking for myself." You've made more homemade paella here than you ever did back home, even if you could never get it to taste quite right.
"Maybe that's true back home, but if you haven't eaten out–"
"Okay, okay," You raise your hands to forestall further judgement. "Imiko, will you please choose a restaurant for us? I can pay."
"Lucky me." Her smile is angelic as she pulls you off course and onto a new heading.
- - - -
Imiko leads you to a friendly little restaurant, and you soon find yourself ensconced in a dimly-lit corner booth. You try to take a moment to collect yourself, but almost the moment you sit down, a busy-looking waiter places a plate in front of you. Soon enough, the table is covered in dishes: small pieces of fish, vegetables fried in a crispy batter that reminds you of home, meat in rich sauce, and bowls of fragrant rice.
Thanks to Tomomi's help and plenty of practice, you're more confident with the local cutlery than you were. But you're still slow, picking at your food as Imiko watches with a smile, occasionally popping a morsel between her teeth.
After a few minutes, you simply have to ask. "What?"
"Do you ever relax?"
You hadn't noticed your squared shoulders and straight back. It takes conscious effort to roll your joints out and slump slightly.
"Does that feel better?" She asks, leaning her elbows on the table and gesturing vaguely with a free hand. "You seem very tense. I can prescribe you something for it if you like."
"Would that not be a conflict of interest?" You return her question.
"It's only a conflict if I'm treating family or people I'm in a relationship with." Then, with a smile, "Of course, that's easily changed."
You almost choke on your glass of water, the brief coughing fit giving you a moment to think of a response.
"I do not think anyone would believe we were family."
"It will have to be a relationship, then."
She puts her hand flat on the table, palm down but with fingers spread towards you. You want to think she's reaching out, offering contact, maybe even intimacy, but she's been so hard to read tonight. If you were wrong about this, her intentions, how she feels…
After a moment of quiet indecision, you mimic her. Hand down, fingers close but not touching. The table is solid, grounding your hammering heart. "Do you want that?"
"Sweet Baronesa," A shiver goes up your spine at the sound of your title on her lips. "I want whatever you're willing to give me."
Her hand edges closer to yours, a hair's breadth away. Leaving the decision up to you.
"What if I do not know what I am willing to give?"
"I'm patient. I'll wait until you do."
Your fingertips graze her knuckles, and a tiny electric buzz travels into your chest. Her hand is warm, hard where the bones almost come to the surface. You can only stare as you let your fingers rest gently over hers, as she turns her hand ever so slowly, placing her palm beneath your touch.
It is utterly, delicately soft. As you explore the peaks and valleys of her tender palm, she threads her fingers between yours, her bracelet sliding to expose the delicate skin of her wrist. You wonder how she keeps them so soft when exposed to the harsh chemicals and routines of a doctor's world.
"What if I never know?"
"Do you ever run out of questions, Helena?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Look, I've heard about what Europa is like for women like us. I won't push you into anything you're not ready for."
You've never felt this uncertain, this scared, in your life. Only your first flight in the C.5 even begins to compare. And even then, you could identify the problems in an autogyro. See them coming. Compensate.
This is something else entirely.
You imagine many things very quickly - her lips, her shoulders, her breasts. The heat in your cheeks doubles over, before the waiter returns with more small plates. Without thinking, you snatch your hand back to your lap, regretting it the moment you see Imiko's sad, understanding smile.
You do not retake her hand for the rest of the meal.
- - - -
You walked Imiko home, even though it's out of your way by a considerable distance. It wouldn't do for her to have made the journey alone, even if you would then have to make the same journey in reverse. Walking the cool streets on a mild Akitsukini night was of no real concern, though sometimes you do miss the gentle weight of your pistol slung from your weight. You haven't carried it in months - not that you carried it very often at home - but you still think of it.
It's not like you need it, you admit to yourself as a pair of policemen walk past. One gives you a searching look before capping it with a nod, which you return. Their presence is a comfort in the dark, even if you're hardly some weak woman in need of protection.
You don't want to make your way straight home. It's only just dark, and it's not like the weather is closing in. Yet without Imiko to wander with, you feel adrift like a boat without a sail. You remember the card in your pocket, the address of a bar, but you're not quite ready to drown your night in booze. Maybe you could just wander, perhaps find a park to enjoy?
Your eyes land on a little sign hanging outside an otherwise nondescript building. It's built in a traditional style, but so are most of the structures in this area - it would just be another building if not for the swaying board that catches the wind. 'Women's Bathhouse' it reads, in a script simple enough even you can understand; you might have plenty of practice speaking Akikitsuni, but reading was another matter entirely.
As with restaurants, you've failed to visit a bathhouse in the months since you landed in this odd country. You'd heard of them, even been invited once or twice, but you had always resisted. The idea of bathing communally was a strange and foreign concept. Yet as you walk down the street, the evening air seeping into your skin, the idea of soaking in a hot bath is intensely appealing.
Hell, you think. Today is a day of firsts! First flight of the C.6, first test of a 'gyro under someone else's control, first date with Imiko…
If it was a date. It was just dinner, right?
You can still feel where she touched the back of your hand.
Well. If today is a day of firsts, then why not make it your first time at a bathhouse as well?
Before nerves can get the better of you, you've entered, paid, stripped, washed, and slid into the hot bath. May the Lord forgive your blasphemy, but the heat seeping into your skin verges on the divine. Why didn't you have these in Europa? Even without the hot springs that dot this country's landscape, surely someone must have thought of it?
Maybe you'd have to take them back with you, whenever that would be. There wasn't a plan when you arrived; it was just an adventure at first. And yet, thinking about Imiko and Tomomi and the other people you've met… the future felt different now. A year ago, it'd merely been the next day's drafting, building, or flying, but now it stretches out into weeks and months, an expanse of time yawning out in front of you and–
The steam washes the thoughts out of your head as you sink deeper into the hot pool. This is supposed to be a time of relaxation, not an excuse to open up all the carefully locked boxes in your head. The heat washes everything away, stress seeping out of your bones and pores and into the steaming water. Maybe you should make this become a post-flight tradition…
Your serenity is interrupted as a pair of local women walk through the door. Their conversation pauses when they lock eyes with you, a brief but visible hesitation.
"I didn't know they let foreigners in here," the taller of the two remarks. You doubt it's the subject they were on before.
"I don't think it's a matter of letting anyone anywhere."
"No, but you know what I mean. What do you think she's doing here?"
"What do you think she's doing here, Aiko?"
"I don't know! Maybe she's trying to get a look at some silk ladies fucking."
The shorter one laughs in her friend's face as they walk towards the pool, though it doesn't seem unkind in intent. They certainly seem close enough, comfortable in each other's nudity. You try not to look as they step into the water, thanking God that the pool is large enough that they don't have to step past you.
"Why don't you ask her?" The shorter of the two says, pressing her back against the water-warmed wall.
"Ask her what?"
"What she's doing here."
"I don't speak Europan. Or whatever it is they call the gibberish they speak over there."
"Wouldn't it be embarrassing for you if she spoke Akitsukini?" The shorter one teases. The taller of the pair - Aiko, presumably - flushes bright red and splashes the other woman.
For a moment, you're tempted to reveal that you'd understood almost every word they've said. Rude, to be sure, but a small part of you can't help but imagine how red Aiko would get if she knew you knew that she'd accused you of voyeurism.
You have better things to do. More relaxing things. Like simply soaking away your troubles in the swelteringly hot pool.
- - - -
By the time you sit down at the company table with a stiff drink, all of your anxieties have seeped away. Your belly is full and your muscles are soothed, leaving only the worries in your brain to solve.
And, what better way to deal with them than to drown them in strong alcohol and raucous company?
As you look around the table, you can't help but note how much has changed since you were last here. You've relaxed a great deal about what is right and what is proper; while you still internally recoil at the fact that the men you're seated with are so obviously intoxicated, it doesn't bother you nearly as much as it once did. This is just the nature of these men. The women back home weren't so different, even if they were more reserved about it.
Someone places another drink in front of you as soon as yours was empty, and you drain it just as fast. You don't say much as the conversation churns around you, but you feel a warm buzz sliding up your spine nevertheless. It's nice to be in the company of people who, if not your friends, then certainly respect you. Even in this foreign land, you have a place, and it's a place you value very highly.
You are entering a Navy design competition for a light scout aircraft. A low stall speed will be vital. But you will also be focusing on making it:
[ ] A floatplane that can land and take off unaided
[ ] A radio-equipped observer with no expense spared.
[ ] Light and cheap, so the navy has no choice but to buy it.
