The passenger-side door was opened like how one would place a blanket over a sleeping toddler - quietly so as not to disturb, but with tenderness and caring. The bassist slipped into the passenger seat and then shut the door. She didn't speak for a while. Instead, she waited with her hands in her lap and her gaze staring at some imaginary point in the distance. Every so often, Umi would shift slightly to check up on the silently crying figure in the adjacent seat. But otherwise, Umi did nothing.

"I'm sorry," Eri said finally. Tears continuing to flow from the corners of her azure eyes. Yet, they fell with no sound. The morose expression was the only indicator that moonlight sparkles hadn't chosen Eri as their ballroom for the night.

"There is nothing that you need to feel sorry for," Umi soothed, reaching over with a hand to brush blonde bangs away from Eri's shiny eyes. Umi then rested her hand at the back of Eri's nape, prompting Eri to look at the younger woman.

"How much did you hear?" Eri's eyes were unsure of where to settle.

"None of it," Umi assured. "I saw you on the phone but I couldn't hear anything from outside."

Eri nodded. She raised the palms of her hands to dab away the wetness around her eyes. Then, the blonde leaned forward to rest her forehead on Umi's shoulder and simply closed her eyes, took deep breaths. The violinist sighed when Umi wrapped her arms around Eri's vulnerable frame. "I didn't want you to see me like this," Eri laughed bitterly. "Who wants to date an emotional wreck?"

"You are not an emotional wreck," Umi comforted, running her fingers through Eri's hair. "You just have emotions that you are not afraid to express openly." Um drew back and cupped the sides of Eri's face with her hands, thumbing away the last of the tears. "And frankly," Umi added, "I really like that about you." The sentence was delivered in a whisper flourished with a conspiratorial twinkle.

Although Umi's response was surely spoken in attempt to calm Eri, it only caused Eri to cry more. Again, Umi said nothing. The bassist simply held Eri and waited until every last tear had been shed. There were no words. Just a mutual understanding that this moment was sacred. Eri felt safer than she ever had before.

"I got into a fight with my best friend," Eri confessed finally when her tears were dry and her emotions placated. "We've been friends since the beginning of high school. And suddenly, she tells me she can't be my friend anymore."

"Mmmm," Umi hummed, raising an eyebrow.

"We dated for a year. And then she broke up with me — we were much better off as friends. We would get into fights all the time when we were dating over stupid things. You know when I told you my ex-girlfriend left me because she couldn't deal with the fact that I might leave her for a man? This is her. She'd get mad at me whenever I corrected people who thought I was a lesbian. Apparently, since I was dating her — that made me gay. And if I said I was bi, I was admitting to wanting to leave her for a man. It was so stupid and it made me feel terrible. Like she couldn't trust me you know? And like she just couldn't accept me…" Eri's expression twisted painfully. "But you know what was the worst thing?" Eri's voice broke. "I loved her so much that I just went with it. She was my best friend. I stopped telling people I was bi and just said I was gay. Because maybe she was right? It was just a label. And I was so sure she would be the last person I would date. Ha." Eri was grim. "It didn't even matter. She broke it off anyway."

"Baby," Umi soothed, rubbing circles with her thumb. "She didn't deserve you."

Eri's eyes flooded. "I don't get why everyone hates bi people!" Eri whimpered. "What did we ever do to anyone? All those stories about bi girls actually being straight— they were straight! They weren't bi! And all those stories about bi girls actually being gay— those were gay people! Bi people never did anything!" Helpless pleas, directed to the universe.

"I know. It's terrible," Umi nodded, holding Eri still in her arms.

"And it's not my fault that I can sometimes pass for straight— if I just so happen to fall for a man! I was born this way. If I fall for a girl though I'm in the same boat as everyone. It's not like I get to choose who I fall for anymore than anyone else does."

"I know, baby," Umi calmed. "I know."

"And so after putting me through all of that— she suddenly tells me today that she made a mistake and is still in love with me!" A pause. Then, Eri looked up at Umi in sudden realization. "Oh my god. I'm terrible," Eri began moving away from Umi. "First, I talk to my ex-girlfriend about my prospective new girlfriend and now I'm talking to my prospective new girlfriend about my ex-girlfriend who may still have feelings for me and who I'm feeling so utterly confused about right now."

Whatever reaction Eri had been expecting, it wasn't Umi's amused laugh. The bassist tried her best to stifle it but the shine in her eyes said she was quite amused.

"What?" Eri asked, her voice scratchy from crying.

"Nothing," Umi gave a girlish simper which indicated otherwise.

"What?" Eri asked again, her lips curving into an astonished smile.

"I just had a thought," Umi responded.

"Umi, tell me!"

Umi rolled her eyes, but not unkindly. "I just discovered that you are a lot more clumsy about relationships than you want to seem. Now everything about you makes sense."

Eri stared at Umi in half-indignation and half-mirth. "I don't know what you are talking about. I am the smoothest person you will ever meet."

"Oh yes, most definitely," Umi's tone was lighthearted sarcasm, "For example, when you gave me a wrong number?"

"That was— I was in a rush."

"When you came up to speak to me but ended up just staring at me with no words?"

"I was nervous! At least I approached you!"

"When you—"

"Okay!" Eri reached over and clamped her hands over Umi's mouth. "No more out of you!" Eri laughed. "You are going to ruin my reputation."

Umi pulled Eri's hands off her face and held them. "I like it," Umi concluded with fondness.

"I like you," Eri replied, cuing a drastic change in tone from merriment to seriousness.

"I like you," Umi said. She then reached over and caressed Eri's cheek. "But you have an ex-girlfriend that you need to deal with," Umi reminded warmly.

Eri nodded. "She's my best friend," Eri's voice broke just thinking about it.

"You shouldn't drive home tonight," Umi advised. "Come inside. We have a guest room you can stay in."

"Thank you," was Eri's reply.

But in no way were they enough.