Snowball

By the time class lets out, the snow's already falling; thick, slow flakes that take ages to hit the ground, keep melting in Yosuke's hair, and are probably majorly screwing up his headphones. It can't be good for them getting wet like this, but if he puts them in his bag then what's he going to listen to on his walk home, it isn't like Souji's here any—

Something heavy and cold smacks him square in the back.

Yosuke whirls around, almost – almost – reaching for his twin daggers. Which have been stuffed in the far reaches of his closet for the past nine months, not that they'd be much use against Chie Satonaka or the incendiary twelve-alarm glare she's now shooting in his direction.

"What the hell was that for?" There's snow soaking through the back of his jacket, he can't even reach around to brush it off, this is seriously gross.

"Revenge," Chie snaps, brandishing a second snowball in her right glove. "You spent the entire last class bouncing bits of paper off the back of my head!"

"That was paper!"

"If you'd had snow, you would've thrown that too!"

Yosuke's never been much of a scholar. He knows it, his parents know it and, now that Souji isn't there to feed him obscure answers or let him crib assignments, so do the faculty of Yasogami High. Since everyone's finally got the memo, there's no point in pretending to pay attention - and he has to do something with all his newfound free time. "C'mon, you know how boring English gets."

He knows Chie agrees, deep down, but she shakes her head anyway. "No wonder nobody's taken the desk in front of you."

Which makes Yosuke sort of glad, in a strange, warm sort of way that he's pretty sure he can never, ever let Chie know about. But there's nothing strange about missing your best friend, right? Besides, staring at the back of someone else's non-silver head would be weird. Which leaves Yosuke with Takeshi on his right (who's spoken to him maybe twice ever), Yukiko a few desks in front (who actually reads her textbook and probably wouldn't notice the bits of paper at all) and just behind her, Chie (who can't go one minute without tapping her feet or trying to wrap one of her legs around one of the chair's). Given those options, of course he's going to bug Chie.

He shrugs. "I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't throw stuff at someone I didn't know. Anyway, you wouldn't stop fidgeting and it was starting to get annoying."

Chie huffs, then sighs. "Well, like you said. English is boring."

Everything's kind of boring, lately. "Yeah."

Chie doesn't say anything after that. She might, Yosuke suspects, be about to hurl that second snowball, so he quickly changes the subject. "Hanging out with Yukiko tonight?"

"No," Chie says, too quickly. "She's busy working."

"Makes two of us. Stupid weekly delivery." A few centimeters of snow and half the evening staff call out; conveniently for them, less so for Yosuke. It's the sort of thing Souji would've helped with, no problem, even at five minutes notice.

Chie rolls her shoulders. "You too, huh? Well. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure." And, predictably, as soon as Yosuke turns away, a large clump of snow splats against the back of his head, almost knocking his headphones clean off. And he'd been worried about snowflakes.

He glances over his shoulder. Chie stands behind him: grinning and headphone-hating and thoroughly evil. "And that one's for the paper too," she says.

Four hours later, the dumb delivery truck still hasn't shown. Probably because of the snow, but it's freezing cold in the delivery bay, the cold concrete platform Yosuke's perched on is a new kind of uncomfortable, and, frankly, he's starting to feel kind of sorry for himself.

He's not even sure how he'll haul all the stuff inside when the truck does arrive. Kanji could totally lift it, but Kanji's probably busy closing up the textile shop - and besides, Yosuke's kouhai come as a three-pack these days, and while Rise would be a welcome beam of sunshine in his recently sucky life, he's not sure he could handle Naoto strategizing the shelf-stacking. She'd probably pull out the graph paper and marker pens, just like back in the food court when they still—

He shakes his head. No point bringing all that up again. It's over, they won, everyone's happy.

...Right. Everyone.

The problem, for Yosuke, is that Inaba actually became exciting, but only for a grand total of eleven months. Admittedly, those months coincided with a serial murder case and frequent bouts of creepy impenetrable fog, but he had a purpose. He felt needed, which was a nice change from alternating between bored, lonely and homesick. Nine months on, Inaba's terminally dull again, he's working endless Junes shifts just to pass the time, and Souji's gone. Yosuke sort of expected him to stay. After their last minute take-down of Izanami, they were all buzzing on an exhausted high and going to the train station seemed surreal. Then, the next morning, Yosuke woke up to find Teddie curled asleep in the bathtub and a single message on his phone: Back in the city. Wish you guys were here.

You guys. Not you.

"Hey, Yosuke?"

Yosuke looks up. Chie's peering round the entrance to the delivery bay, and from what he can see of her, she's wearing a Junes apron. "What're you doing here?"

"Duh. I'm here to help with the delivery. Why'd you think I'm wearing this?"

He rolls his shoulders. "I dunno. You were throwing snow at me earlier, so I guess I didn't expect you to turn up wanting to help."

He's lying, a little. Chie bailed him out big time during the summer. It's not unthinkable that she'd try to do the same now, especially if Yukiko's busy. And after all the time she spent showing off how much she could lift in the stockroom, Yosuke's glad to have her around. Not that he'd ever let her know.

"No Teddie?" she asks.

"He worked the drinks stand all day, so I figured he needed a rest." Yosuke doesn't mention that he did too, and from Ted.

"He'd probably get tired out anyway." She puts both hands on her hips, legs braced against the concrete floor. "So, where's this delivery?"

"Late," Yosuke mutters, with a roll of his eyes. "Dunno if you'll wanna hang around. Yukiko might be finished up at the inn by the time the stupid truck shows."

Chie doesn't say anything to that. In fact, her expression shifts, turning into something...complicated, Yosuke guesses, which is pretty unusual for Chie. She doesn't look pissed off, but she definitely doesn't look happy either, and she shoves her hands in her apron pockets.

Did her and Yukiko fight or something? Doesn't seem likely. It's always been Chie and Yukiko, both so obviously wrapped up in each other that Yosuke harbored some serious (and seriously hot) suspicions, until he mentioned them to Chie in passing and got shoved down the school's second floor stairs.

Which probably means they were true. And fine, maybe he's a little jealous.

...Whoa, that sounded bad. He's not like that, no way. Totally Kanji's deal.

But Chie and Yukiko are inseparable, and last year Yosuke thought the same thing about him and Souji – or wanted to, at least. Except while the name Chie still comes with an and Yukiko attached, Souji's off in the big city, winning friends and breaking hearts and doing it all without Yosuke.

Holy crap, just listen to him. Wanting to be inseparable from another guy. You can't get much more—you know. But when that guy's Souji, who wouldn't have a kind-of sort-of but-not-really-a crush? And half the people in Inaba are on the same page, so it's not like Yosuke's being weird or anything. He just picked the wrong word. Crush. It makes him sound like a twelve year old girl. Next he'll be buying lipgloss with his store discount and asking Rise for fashion tips.

(But, when he closes his eyes and tries to be honest for just one second, deep down he knows crush might not cover it.)

"Are you okay?" Chie's voice, nearby and a little morose.

His eyes snap open. She's peering down at him, brow slightly furrowed.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he tells her, and quickly changes the subject. "So what's with you and Yukiko?"

"Nothing," Chie snaps back, just as fast. "And it's none of your business."

And Yosuke knows he shouldn't say it, he prefers his balls intact, but he still smirks and asks, "What, lovers' tiff?"

Fortunately, the kick Chie launches at his shins is halfhearted at best. "Shut up!"

"Hey! Don't do that!"

"I – I come here to help, you moron, and then you—you are such a jerk, you know that?"

Yep, having a great evening so far. Sitting in a delivery bay, freezing his ass off, getting yelled at and kicked by Chie Satonaka - who Yosuke never really wanted jumping in televisions with him and Souji, at least at the start, even if he can't quite remember why. It's the same with most of their arguments, this one excepted – though even here, he's not sure he could trace the thread back, not without knowing the full story. Which Chie would never tell him, at least not right now.

He hardly ever argued with Souji. The couple of times that they did, Souji was the one who apologized, and even though Souji's "I'm sorry" might've meant "I'm sorry you're such a tool, but I'll live with it", Yosuke appreciated the gesture.

He lets out a breath, curling in on himself slightly against the cold. It's snowing again; he can see the flakes falling through the lamplight outside the delivery bay. "Look, I was just joking. You know that. You don't have to over-react."

"I'm not over—ugh, never mind." A pause. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Never said she was," Yosuke mumbles.

"Yeah, well," Chie mutters. "You're just being a jerk because your boyfriend left."

"What the hell? Souji's not—"

"He's probably got tons of girlfriends in the city by now," she continues, crossly. "He had one while he was here."

Yosuke blinks. "He did?"

"Yeah." By now, Chie's frown looks more confused than annoyed. "Don't you listen to what people are saying at school?"

Not usually. Mostly because nobody ever says it to him. "No way. He would've told me." Then, "Who was it?"

"Ai Ebihara," Chie says, with an almost apologetic shrug. "I think it was pretty casual. Rise-chan got all weepy when she heard."

For a single, white-hot instant, Yosuke knows how Rise must've felt. He packs it up and puts it aside the next moment. "Well. Good luck to him."

Chie gives him a strange, long look. "Yeah, I guess."

What gets him isn't that Souji has or had a girlfriend. Or even, though it kind of stings, that he didn't let on to his best friend and partner. It's the idea of Souji being so fully focused on someone else, letting his guard down around them. Kissing them. All of which is petty and jealous and not the point and doesn't make any sense anyway. Yosuke rests his elbows on his knees and lets out a sigh that blows his hair from his forehead. "At least it wasn't Yukiko." If it had been – because let's face it, Yukiko never seemed immune to Setamania - Souji would've taken the kind of critical hit that'd rule out all future conquests.

"She wouldn't," Chie blurts. "I-I mean, she likes Souji. But not like that."

"Everyone likes Souji like that," Yosuke says – partly because it's true, mostly because it makes things easier.

"They don't, okay? Not everyone—" Chie cuts herself short, and rubs a hand over her face. Then she starts for the open delivery bay doors. "Oh, forget it."

Is he supposed to follow her? She's already outside, standing in the falling snow – it's Chie, the cold means nothing to her – and it's not like he's done anything tonight except piss her off. He'd probably only make things worse.

Yosuke pushes himself off the platform onto his feet, and walks toward the door. Chie must hear him coming, but she doesn't say anything.

"Okay. That thing, just now," he says. "What was that about?"

She shrugs. "...I dunno."

The snowflakes keep catching on his eyelashes and forcing him to blink, and while Chie could get by with a track jacket in the Arctic, he's currently freezing his ass off. He debates asking her to come back inside, but it seems like the wrong thing to say. It feels like anything would be wrong, right now.

At least the snow looks nice. Or it might, if it wasn't just covering up dumpsters and a ton of Junes junk.

"Yukiko's gonna take over as inn manager right after graduation," Chie says, suddenly. "She's already started preparing. So, she's got more important things to think about."

And there's something implied in that, a you should know what it's like that twists hot and cold in Yosuke's stomach. And, honestly, maybe he does. The whole thing.

"You could still talk to her," he says.

"Yeah." Chie rocks back on her heels, staring up at the snow falling through the dark. "I guess."

Like it's ever that simple. Just the prospect of approaching the topic with Souji makes Yosuke feel sick. It isn't a matter of not knowing what to say, it's not knowing whether to say anything at all. Not knowing how many things you might break if you did.

After a few moments, Chie tips her head at him. "Hey, aren't you cold?"

"Nope," Yosuke says, trying to stop his legs from shaking.

"Oh, for crying out loud." She shrugs off the apron, then her jacket, and hands it to him.

Scrawny as he is, he still can't fit into a girl's coat, but he drapes it over his shoulders all the same. "Thanks."

Chie shrugs that off as well. She turns aside - still standing next to him, but staring out over the beautiful Junes backlot instead. "You could tell him, too."

The snow's still falling, but there's a heat over the back of Yosuke's neck like a sunburn. "Yeah. I could."