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When it came to love, Uta considered herself defective.
Well, not really. She had plenty of love all around her. She loved her parents, she loved her little sister, she loved her friends, and the food they ate together and music they all listened to. There was lots of love in Uta’s life, she truly felt its splendour day in and day out in the sunlight that filtered through the window of her bedroom, safe and warm, or Cafe Glitter, bustling and lively.
But because she was missing a certain cosmetic on the inside of her wrist, she was considered defective.
It was a strange but accepted part of the world: soulmates were real.
There were poems and scientific studies, artworks and movies, and books and academia all about soulmates and the phenomenon therein. It was embedded into the very fabric of the universe somehow: all human beings were born with their fated beloved’s name written on their wrist. Curiously, the writing would be the style most associated with them.
For example, Uta’s parents were soulmates. They had each other’s names on each other’s wrists. Her Mom, who had fancy and looping writing, had her name, Oto, written on Kazu’s wrist and her Dad, who had chicken–scratch doctor’s handwriting, had Kazu written on her Mom’s wrist. They were a match made in heaven.
And it wasn’t just them.
Soulmates naturally gravitated towards one another, complemented each other perfectly, and usually lived a romance worthy of a dream. Hamori certainly looked forward to it. She had a name on her wrist, no one they knew, yet, but she liked the mystery of it but poor Uta?
Her wrist was completely and utterly blank.
Until one day, it was not.
So much had happened, it should have been the least of Cure Idol’s concerns but she couldn’t help herself as two new heroines emerged from the smoke and aftermath of what Cuttinda had put the concert through. With their powerful duet, two new Pretty Cures had debuted. And to absolutely wild success, too.
They had saved the day and impressed the crowd. With their appearance, they could cover up the truth of what had happened as just pyrotechnics and lore but in actuality, neither Cure Idol nor the other girls knew who these two young women were.
Just that they were the same.
Though far more mysterious and a little older. Their gazes met.
Cure Kiss was icy. Protective. She kept her emotions inward and Cure Zukyoon on a tight leash. Cure Zukyoon was anything but as her gaze met Cure Idol’s and it felt like nothing less than fate.
Cure Idol’s heart skipped a beat: she felt Cupid’s arrow strike her through the fingergun and lipstick that Cure Zukyoon donned.
Cure Idol trembled where she stood and she had a strange urge. An urge she indulged. She moved her hand upwards and she checked her wrist. That was… That was impossible. Her eyes widened as she digested the impossibility of it all but there it was.
Cure Zukyoon’s autograph was branded on her wrist.
Cure Idol disengaged her magic. She needed to check. She hurried to check as she transformed into herself as Uta and nothing had changed. It was still there, she traced it in utter awe, the hue of the pale green and the way it linked and looped. Cure Zukyoon’s signature was there but it was not the permanent fixture Uta would have liked.
It had appeared from nowhere and just as quickly, like a trick of the light, it disappeared. But it had been there. Uta was positive and her world only turned more upside from there.
Now certain that she wasn’t abnormal and defective like she had been told because she lacked a soulmate, Uta tripped head over heels for the mysterious Cure Zukyoon.
She saw Cure Zukyoon everywhere. In her dreams, in the corner of her eyes, in the doodles that she drew on the pages of her homework instead of actually doing her assignment. Uta was down bad and it was every bit as strange and horrifying and fun as everything in the world around her had promised her love would be.
Kokoro called it being deep in the swamp, Uta thought it was true love.
All her life, she was worried she was missing out on something. That she was going to die alone and broken but that wasn’t it at all. Her heart soared, her spirits flew, she was living her best life as she finally got a taste of what had been denied of her. From the love songs on the radio to the cheesy poetry people wrote and more, Uta was certain that Cure Zukyoon was her soulmate.
Even if the circumstances were unusual and vexing.
After all, Cure Zukyoon’s name – or title, really – only ever appeared on Uta’s wrist when they were in proximity to each other and that wasn’t much. She and Cure Kiss were candles in the wind, there and sparkling bright and then gone with a hiss.
But after yet another fight against a Darkuranda sent by Zakkuri, Cure Idol was determined to get to the bottom of it all.
The identities of Cure Zukyoon and Cure Kiss, the writing on her wrist, the feelings that burgeoned within her. Uta burned with curiosity which was all encompassing as she felt exhilaration in her blood.
But trepidation, too.
Cure Kiss was sharp. She could cut with a look in her eyes alone and she could tell something was up as in the aftermath of the fight, a back and forth of lopsided teamwork, that Cure Idol wanted more than just a brief goodbye.
Cure Idol steeled her resolve as she tried to get close to Cure Zukyoon. She and Cure Kiss had already turned their backs on the Idol PreCure but Cure Idol insisted. Her heart thudded in her chest as Cure Idol decided her confession was now or never.
A warm wind blew. The skies were blue and clear. The grass underfoot was green and spiky with summer in full swing. The scene was set, the opportunity was present. Cure Idol felt a bead of sweat on the back of her neck as she took a breath to centre herself before the duo of Cure Kiss and Cure Zukyoon.
“There’s something I have to ask you,” Cure Idol begged, “or-or tell you.”
Her voice was shrill and caused discord. Cure Kiss regarded her warily as Cure Idol plead for Cure Zukyoon’s attention.
“Sure, what is it?” Cure Zukyoon answered her.
“Sister.” Cure Kiss warned her, she tried to cut in but Cure Zukyoon stepped forward.
Cure Idol’s heart pounded in her chest, her hands rose inwards: she held them in front of her chest. She met Cure Zukyoon’s gaze. She was the epitome of ignorance being bliss, she glowed with untold joy that seemed so situationally unaware and poor Cure Idol… She cowered before it – and Cure Kiss’ ire.
She was not nearly as free with her affection. She was harsh and guarded. Perhaps, she had already suspected that something awry was about to rise. Cure Idol didn’t get it at all but it was unmistakeable.
As herself or as Cure Idol, her blank wrist had a name on it.
“Cure Zukyoon,” Cure Idol confessed, “I… I think we are soulmates.”
“She has no such thing.” Cure Kiss interjected, stark and abrupt.
Cure Idol flinched, but she tried, she offered her hand, “How do you know?” she asked, her voice a whimper.
“Because only humans have soulmates.” Cure Kiss explained.
Cure Idol extended her wrist for Cure Zukyoon to inspect. To her credit, she did look and she did compare her own wrist to Cure Idol’s but it was as Cure Kiss had said. Cure Zukyoon was not, mutually, her soulmate because Cure Zukyoon’s wrist was blank.
“H-Huh?” Cure Idol intoned on the edge of heartbreak.
“I’m real sorry, Cure Idol.” Cure Zukyoon told her. “But I still want to be your friend, real bad but nice signature! I love it.”
It was her own, after all. In mint green, as well, it was very cute but it did little to quell Cure Idol’s confusion until the jig was up. Cure Kiss sighed and the magic wore off.
Where she and Cure Zukyoon once stood, there was a puff of smoke – grey and mint, a hint of pink both pale and dark in either cloud dusted with sparkles – and then, there were two very familiar faces in what remained. Cure Idol blinked as Cure Kiss and Cure Zukyoon were revealed as Meroron and Purirun respectively.
But in the aftermath of their change over, the name on Cure Idol’s wrist disappeared. Her heart lurched with disappointment.
Meroron drew in closer. She looked… pitiful with her little, fuzzy face. Purirun continued to smile and beam, she floated closer to Cure Idol and both fairies latched on Cure Idol. Her eyes watered as she tried to understand what was going on.
For so long, she had yearned to be normal, the same as anyone else. She didn’t want to be considered defective and incapable of romantic love just because she was seemingly without a soulmate.
“Fairies don’t have soulmates, mero, only humans, mero.” Meroron began to explain. “B-But if Purirun is yours, mero, then that would make us the same as well, mero. She is my Neetama, my one and only but… So be it, mero, if I must share, mero.”
“Meroron…” Cure Idol breathed.
Her heart was fit to burst.
Beneath the cruelty and coldness of Meroron’s demeanour as Cure Kiss, she had only the best intentions for her true love. Cure Idol could bitterly accept that. She was jealous and protective but as her paw, warm and fluffy, was placed on her hand, Cure Idol could feel the hidden kindness that Meroron had within her.
And her icy facade was accompanied by the balm of Purirun’s purity: her boundless innocence and mirth. She smiled up at Cure Idol. But at the same time, there was something missing from her eyes: her ever joyful sparkle was there but it was without recognition of the true depths of the bond that she and Cure Idol had had previously.
“Due to certain circumstances, mero,” Meroron mused, “Purirun’s power came at the cost of her memories, mero.”
“But I can feel it, puri!” Purirun assured her. “You and I, puri… We’re something special, all three of us, puri.”
“Purirun…” Cure Idol whimpered on the verge of tears.
Cure Idol’s feelings turned tangled. Even with the mystery of Cure Zukyoon’s arrival before her, they seemed so straightforward. She felt what she felt: the rush, the thrill, the exuberance of a sweet first love but now. She had more questions and all of them were more dour than the last but at the same time.
She was so happy.
Happy to have finally found love.
Cure Idol smiled as she magicked back into her usual self. She became Uta again and she remained embraced by Purirun and Meroron. She shed light tears that curved around the corners of her genuine smile as she enjoyed the feeling of first love turned a thread into a triad. The three of them, the same, love for love’s sake.