dojima_hime | Room 503, Saturday Evening

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Room 503, Saturday Evening

It was wrong. It had to be.

Yurika had spent the day wandering the island, trying to clear her head and praying for another result.

No luck.

Now she was seated at her desk, pen at the ready, as she tried to find some way to explain this to Romeo. To Father Juliano. To anyone.

"You better be worth this," she muttered, placing her hand on her stomach. "Kazuki Montague."

[OOC: Open door and post is open! Yurika's herself, mostly, just overly-melodramatic and a wee bit pregnant....]
[ETA: Romeo's visit comes last chronologically.]

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"I thought you had some sort of crappy thing your dad was working out for you?" Triela frowned. She wasn't sure, of course, it's not like they'd ever talked about the future.

"I do," she lied smoothly. Not really lying, but truth-bending again. "He traded me off to a friend for a business deal. I'm supposed to be working as sort of a supernatural law-enforcement person, but this makes that a bit difficult."

"Maybe they have desk jobs?" Triela suggested. Not that she actually had any idea.

Yurika wasn't stupid, she knew what he was saying.

"She's not real!" she hissed, shaking her head. "She can't be! She's dead, Romeo. This is some spell or illusion, some trick that Hinata girl thought up because she has a crush on you!"

"Right. I'd be a fantastic office girl, making the coffee and filing things..."

Triela couldn't help herself. She actually snorted at that. "You have a point there."

"She knew me," Romeo said flatly. "She looked as Juliet did, she spoke as Juliet would, she had a story Juliet would tell, and even if Hinata had noticed me in that way, she wouldn't be able to convince me so easily."

"I spoke to a priest," he continued. "She is my wife, and nothing can break that bond."

Yurika reeled back as if slapped, pulling her hand away from him. "Lots of things can break that bond," she said tersely. "Like being dead. So she comes back through Fandom magic, and now I'm not good enough for you?"

"You said you loved me."

"I do love you," Romeo said earnestly. "Believe that. Nothing that has happened has changed that. But marriage is sacred, and I cannot look in the face of my wife -- the woman who would have died of love for me -- and tell her I'm leaving her for another." He drew a deep breath. "Even if the other is the mother of my child."

"I'm sorry I haven't gotten the chance to die for you, aijin. I'll add that to my social calendar."

Yurika bit her lip to try and keep from crying. "You have a choice, Romeo. You can't hide behind a priest and let him make this decision for you, it's yours."

"We're not even going to discuss what might happen the first time someone wanted me to fetch their lunch for them," she replied. "I'd probably screw up the order on purpose, or dump fish oil in it."

"I'm past my days where dying for love sounded terribly noble," Romeo admitted. He, too was blinking hard, talking past a lump of tears in his throat. "I want you, I need you, I love you. I just don't know that I can break her poor heart again, especially after pledging my life to her under God and the law. I'd like to be the better man. Do you understand that at all?"

"Or use them for target practice," Triela agreed.

"So... What will you do?"

"God and the law are both under the impression that she's dead, and you are her widower," Yurika cried out, throwing up her hands. "She was Hinata before, she can be Hinata again if she doesn't want to be a Juliet without a Romeo."

Yurika wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "I just found out I'm pregnant. I'm terrified. And now you're saying you love me, but you're leaving me to spare another girl's feelings? What, exactly, am I supposed to understand?"

"She was never Hinata," Romeo said. "I may have said that wrong. She was Juliet, wrapped in magics to make her look like Hinata so the real Hinata's death could be concealed. I could not make her give up her true life as Juliet to live a false one as another girl. I don't even know how to ask her for that."

He wiped a tear away from his eye. "Understand I'm doing my best," he asked. "Understand I would do anything for our child. Understand I wish I wasn't leaving."

"Talk to Romeo, I guess. It's his problem too," Yurika admitted slowly. "He... his religion has certain views on this sort of thing."

Namely that he should not have been sleeping with her at all, but that was beside the point. Mostly.

"Yeah," Triela nodded slowly. "That's probably a good idea. He seems to be a pretty level-headed guy. I'm sure that between the two of you, you'll get things figured out."

"Then don't." Yurika held out one hand, blue eyes wide. "Please."

He took the hand, tensing warm fingers around hers. "I don't want to," he said again. "I've had ten months with you and two days with her. Before this morning I'm not sure I could have told you want color her eyes were."

"And you're to have my child. I just -- I --" he flailed. "Would you like to talk to her? Together."

He wasn't trying to make her do his dirty work.

Yurika flinched and shook her head. "What would I say to her?" she asked. "Sorry, you were dead, and he knocked me up?"

Yurika couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Level-headed? Him?" she gasped, shaking her head. "Trust me, Romeo's passions tend to outrule his sense at times."

"There has to be some other way to put it," Romeo said, frustrated. He ran a hand over her shoulders, lightly, in case she wanted to duck. "All right. I'll talk to her on my own."

Said as if this were a burden.

"Maybe she won't want to be married anymore."

He doubted this.

The hand was needed, reassuring, and she leaned in to his touch. "I'll come with, if that's what you really want," she said softly, "I just don't know that I'll be any help."

She wasn't going to do his dirty work. At all. But she could still be there for him without fighting his battles.

"Well," Triela quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "You would know."

Then, in case that was too subtle, she shot a pointed look at Dojima's belly.

"You would be there," Romeo said. 'That's enough."

It had to be.

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Room 503, Saturday Evening

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