The problem was new, even if the scenario wasn’t totally unusual. Himari was used to Kaoru or Masuki (mostly Masuki, let’s be honest) ringing her doorbell at midnight and tossing her wife through the door with an “Eyyy she’s all yours!”
It was the only time Himari ever wished Tomoe was a little less dense—she’d always been muscular but two years of post grad part timing had landed her in physically demanding job after physically demanding and she was, as Himari would reverently whisper over her muscles, totally stacked. But it was hard to drag someone about as dense as a dying star across her living room. Especially as Himari had to constantly pause to ogle the way Tomoe’s sculpted forearm covered her shoulders entirely.
But that wasn’t the thing causing Himari endless strife. No, the problem occurred after Himari lugged her giant wife into bed and pulled off her jeans and pulled over the blankets and comforters and got herself ready to cuddle in for the night. She cherished those sweet moments, when she didn’t have to worry about the stupid jerks in the office or how hard it was to walk around in heels all day. Himari could just sink into her soft, soft bed, wrap her arms around the woman she loved and—
“No thanks, I got a wife.”
--and then suddenly Himari felt the soft comfort of her bed be cruelly snatched away as she was rolled off the bed with a quick forceful push.
The floor had never felt so cold. Himari lay with arms outstretched trying to calculate where she had gone wrong as Tomoe’s words processed in her mind. “But I am your wife…”
Tomoe was just momentarily confused. She was drunk and tired and surely, if Himari tried again Tomoe would realize it was just her loving wife coming to bed.
Himari crept up, leaned her knee on the bed and was at once met with a strong hand on her chest and a grumpy, growling, “You’re gorgeous but I. Have. A. Wife.”
What was happening in Tomoe’s little drunk mind? Did she think she’d followed some wild seductress home so she could chastely sleep in her bed and now that woman was trying to crawl inside? Did she think Himari was a sexy burglar who’d broken into the home for a quick snuggle and the fine china?
“Tomoe!” Himari huffed, marching to her wife’s side of the bed. “Let me in!”
“’m sorry but I have a wife. s’not open for business.” She blindly patted the bed behind her, slapping her massive mitt over and over. “Two seats only.”
Okay, this was kind of sweet, if a little exhausting, but it was completely at odds with Himari’s usual eight hours of sleep. She did not handle missing her eight hours of sleep well—her eyes got so baggy and her hair lost its shine and it just wasn’t a good look for her, totally out of fashion. This would not do.
“Tomoe~. I have a message… from your wife.”
Tomoe’s ears perked, eyes still fully shut, “my wife?”
“Mmm hmm!” Himari chirped. “It says, um, please let this nice lady sleep in my spot tonight. She’s very tired.”
“Imma call her.” Tomoe groped for her phone on the bedside table, first hitting everything else along the way.
“What! But I’m—”
“Shhhhhhh,” Tomoe jabbed at the black phone screen. “I’m calling my wife.”
Himari sighed, get married they said, it’s living with your best friend forever they said. No one mentioned the parts where your wife FORGETS WHO YOU ARE WHEN SHE’S DRUNK.
It was not.
Tomoe was just doing that with her mouth.
Still, Himari, for no one’s sake but her own, walked back to her side of the bed, pulled out her own phone and ‘answered’ in her best possible imitation of herself, “Hello?”
“Babe!” Tomoe bounced excitedly before speaking conspiratorially. “Babe. You gotta get back here there’s a woman trying to,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “sleep with me.”
Himari knew Tomoe was talking about her. She knew very well that the only woman trying to crawl into bed with her wife was herself. And yet, she felt seethingly jealous of a woman who was 100%, without question, herself.
“I-Is that right?”
“Did you tell her she could sleep here?”
This was the moment Himari was supposed to say ‘yes!’ so she could go on and get into bed and they could laugh about it in the morning. But instead, her dumb animal brain, defensive of her mate against even her own alter ego’s imagined advances, said, “NO!”
Tomoe set the phone down, “You heard her. Wife says no.”
Himari had no one to blame but herself. She hovered by the edge of the bed, worried she'd get shoved away again and sighed. “You really love me--her don’t you?”
“Well yeah,” Tomoe wriggled happily in her bed. “Who doesn’t love their wife?”
“I’m kind of jealous of her.” Himari’s jealousy shifted targets, though the target was, as a reminder, still herself.
“You’ll find someone, not as good as Himari but… number two,” Tomoe muttered sleepily. “You’re pretty.”
“How do you know?”
Tomoe rolled over, facing Himari with a happy little smile. “You have a really pretty voice.”
“Tomoe,” she leaned over the mattress, risking getting pushed away again. “Open your eyes.”
Finally, Tomoe’s eyes pried open. Her entire face expanded as she lit up like she was about to dig into a giant bowl of ramen right after a long day of drumming. “My wife!”
“Hi babe,” Himari barely managed to squeeze out before she was pulled onto the bed to have her face covered in kisses. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Tomoe mumbled as she nuzzled Himari’s hair, wrapping her arms around Himari in a crushing hug. “I hope that lady got home okay.”
“I’m sure she did.” Himari waited for Tomoe to loosen her grip so she could comfortably fall asleep. “Babe?”
The only response was single, rumbling snore. From out in the cold to trapped in the Udagawa death grip. Oh well, Himari tried her best to get comfortable.
At least Tomoe would spend months trying to make up for this one.