It's the way their fingers brush when they walk side to side, they way they smile whenever they're someway skin to skin, it's the way they look at each other.
You knows.
It's been a while since she started noticing things. And she knows. But she won't tell.
She finds excuses for herself saying she's just leaving those two the illusion of secrecy – when they're not subtle at all. She finds excuses for herself saying it's great for them to be together, that they go well together.
She just doesn't want to believe it's true. But that's not what she tells herself.
The sun is almost setting when she returns to her class to make sure she got everything from under her desk.
Today has been strange, what with Riko and Chika being closer than usual. No one noticed, too distracted by the third years' – lover's quarrel – shenanigans. You did.
It's equally strange seeing Yoshiko standing in front of the second years' classroom, her back to the hallway, still as stone.
What is she doing there?
You's footsteps are loud, and Yoshiko turns immediately. Her next actions depend on whoever is approaching from behind.
She mentally curses – herself, those two, even the short haired girl that's now staring at her with bright azure eyes clouded with perplexity.
Then she acts on the first instinct she has toward the girl. Protect her. From what exactly, even Yoshiko herself doesn't know.
You sees her junior's bright eyes darken with panic, almost manages to see something over the not quite closed door, but then Yoshiko's hands are on her eyes.
"Don't look."
There's concern there, the same panic her purple irises reflected mere seconds ago and sadness.
Just now You realises. That's where those two had disappeared to.
And she knows exactly what's happening behind that almost closed door. You knows exactly what Yoshiko is trying to shield her from.
And Yoshiko hates the two girls passionately kissing behind that almost closed door. She also hates almost closed doors.
She hates the word 'almost', because it never brings anything good.
For a second, You wonders what it's like. To be there, in the same picture-worthy situation, secretly kissing at school after classes have ended.
She imagined it, even dreamt about it, what it would be like to press her lips against a mouth that probably tastes like oranges.
She remembers dreaming that for the first time. She was still a child, and the mouth that probably tastes like oranges could still be hers.
Not anymore.
The next words come instinctively, words she never uttered that suddenly feel like hard rock in her throat. She smiles.
And Yoshiko swears that's the saddest smile she's ever seen on You's face, the saddest smile she's seen ever.
"I already know."
Yoshiko's face falls at that and horror and disbelief cross her features. You knew, but she didn't tell.
But now that she did tell, she doesn't feel any better. She's vulnerable, faced with a truth her rational self was aware of, while her heart didn't want to acknowledge it. She's on the verge of tears and her junior can't see her.
Yoshiko hates seeing You suffer – she also hates seeing Ruby and Hanamaru suffer, she hates a lot of things – but this is different.
And she acts on the first instinct she has towards You. Protect her from a reality that hurts her, fix that broken something she heard in her voice.
You doesn't see her junior this time.
Yoshiko presses her lips to You's, tasting oranges. Their taste has always been too bitter for her, but this time is fitting. And she doesn't dislike it.
The tips of their tongues meet halfway though parted lips, in a kiss that a fifteen year old shouldn't know about.
Neither takes it further, for different reasons.
You cares for Yoshiko, but she doesn't love her like she does.
Yoshiko loves You, but she knows she doesn't care like she does.
Stillness it's all there's left, not even the two behind the almost closed door seem to make any sound. Lost in their magical little world, where the taste of oranges is nothing but sweet.
Yoshiko can't bring herself to take her hands away from You's eyes, because, as measly as it is, it's still a safety net between You and reality.
You's voice is what brings her back to her senses. But her hands are still there.
"Yohane."
It rings clear in Yoshiko's ears. That's her cue to put up an act, to pretend nothing of this happened and cover it up with nonsense sentences from her other self.
Yoshiko had tried to help, save You, because she'd seen her longing glances when those two were together.
Yohane is going to be herself and not mention what the other part of herself witnessed.
Yoshiko knows, Yohane doesn't.
Yohane loves You, and so does Yoshiko.
So she swallows the lump in her throat and her love with it.
"It's Master for you. What is it, Little Demon?"
You doesn't hear Yoshiko's voice anymore and the taste of strawberries and chocolate is still on the tip of her tongue.
"I'm sorry Master. Would you be willing to lift the powerful spell you cast upon me?
You is asking Yoshiko to let her go, to let her work this out alone, in peace and with a lot of tears. For once Yohane complies without arguing.
"Yes."
Her consent is the closure, her lifting her hands is her way of saying everything she couldn't.
You looks at her with eyes that are not as sad as she expected them to be. Her smile softens.
"Thank you."
It's more than an act, it's more than the façade Yohane is putting up for You's sake. It's not just a thank you for their play. It is much more than that.
This is You Watanabe thanking Yoshiko Tsushima for caring for her like no one else seems to do.
They don't touch, Yoshiko doesn't respond. She just lets You walk away.
Maybe, she thinks, oranges aren't that bad.