"we'll let the screen go black
and watch the credits run
and see the names of everyone
who we ever met
and who we ever missed
each one had a role in this"

i.

Here's how it begins:

"Whoa, hey, Yukako-san! You don't usually hang out with us."

"Hi."

Oh.

They're sitting vis-à-vis at the cafe table, Koichi sidled up next to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Okuyasu's jaw clench, and if it weren't for the thin bead of sweat forming on his brow, Josuke would say that he's pretty pissed.

The reality is that they're both damn close to shitting their pants.

Koichi laughs nervously and Josuke can't help but shoot him a look that says — no, screams: Dude. What were you fucking thinking, actually?

"So…"

All four of them go silent and he would love nothing more than to turn into a gelatinous mass and phase through the earth right about now.

She sits up so straight that he's convinced she literally has a stick up her ass.

"Has anyone ever told you that you should get a haircut, Josuke-kun?"

And that is how Josuke Higashikata (truly) meets Yukako Yamagishi.

Poor Koichi had looked like he was on the verge of tears by the end of that little get-together, and if Josuke's being honest with himself, so was he.

She inspires fear in a way he didn't think any woman could. Every word that left her mouth — (that wasn't immaculate praise for Koichi, that is) — had been dripping with contempt for him and Okuyasu. If it weren't for the fact that they were Koichi's friends, she would've easily let them both had it. For once, Josuke doesn't think he'd win, and that has nothing to do with his Stand or hers.

Still, she comes along when they hang out. She'd initially refused, claiming "I'm not dating your friends, Koichi-kun, I'm dating you," but Koichi had insisted. And she bent.

"She's mellowed out since — well, you know," Koichi insists, expertly omitting "when she tried to take me as a prisoner and everything." "I swear!"

"I dunno, Koichi. You sure about this?" Okuyasu says, frowning as he pops open a can of cola. "She still seems like the same crazy bitch she always was. You even said she won't go anywhere or do anything at all without you!"

"Doesn't she have any other friends?" Josuke asks, and something in Koichi's expression changes, but he can't place what or why.

Koichi stares at the concrete of the spare gym room where they're partaking in lunch and shakes his head. "I think she's been lonely for a long time. That's why I bring her along with me sometimes. Maybe she'll warm up to you guys and she won't feel like I'm the only one she has, you know?"

There's a lot Josuke could say to that, such as, "I don't think she wants to be around anyone else" and "Maybe there's a reason she was lonely," but he opts to say nothing, pursing his lips and focusing on picking the cucumbers off his sandwich.

In Koichi's defense, she is a little calmer now. He doesn't notice it most of the time, but each day she becomes a little more engaged, a little more willing to talk to them as though they aren't the scum of the earth. It's not often, but it's there.

Maybe it's the transformative power of love, or some stupid bullshit like that.

(Josuke finds his gaze lingering on her just a moment longer than it once did.)

Cafe Deux Magots becomes a comfortable part of their routine; unfortunately, it's a popular destination for a certain someone else.

"Yo, creep alert," Okuyasu whispers conspiratorially. "Look who it is."

Josuke follows his gaze to see Rohan scrutinizing them with nothing short of disgust.

"Man, I don't get that guy. If he wants to chill with us, he should just say so! Not that we'd let him though, right?" Okuyasu continues.

Okuyasu continues to loudly declare his distaste for Rohan while Josuke turns his gaze over to Koichi and Yukako. All the color has drained from Koichi's face, but that's to be expected when Rohan comes up in conversation. Yukako, on the other hand, looks as though she just swallowed a whole lemon. It's an oddly disconcerting expression for someone like her.

"What's up, Yukako-san? What beef do you got with Rohan?" He can't think of a good reason for her to be resentful of him.

"Aside from the fact that he tried to kill Koichi?" she asks rhetorically, her voice dark enough to suck the joy out of every pure and innocent creature on the planet.

Oh. He almost forgot about that.

She clears her throat and continues. "That man has no fashion sense, has no idea what to do with his hair, and you can tell he has bad taste just from looking at him out of the corner of your eye. Disgusting."

He can't stop himself from chuckling.

ii.

Josuke and Okuyasu's graduation doesn't change the dynamic of their little group (to no one's particular surprise). They both stay in Morioh; Okuyasu gets a decent job as a construction worker, putting his Stand to good but subtle use, and Josuke — well, he's still figuring it out.

Perhaps the most salient change is Yukako's willingness to join Okuyasu and Josuke without the additional presence of her significant other. He admittedly can't figure out why; he thought that Yukako mostly tolerated them for Koichi's sake, but she's laughing (well, snickering) more at their jokes, taking more interest in what they say. He's almost worried about her.

Her edges seem softer these days, but every now and then he sees her eyes and realizes what Koichi had been talking about long ago.

They're in the middle of a rather pitiful game of poker at their usual cafe, surrounded by even more pitiful piles of ten yen coins that serve as makeshift chips.

Koichi's latent competitive spirit usually emerges at times like this, but the bags under his eyes tell Josuke everything he needs to know.

"I think I'm heading out now, guys," he says, exhaustion embedded in every word. "Are you coming, Yukako?"

She looks from Koichi to the piles of coins and back to Koichi, the perfect poster child for the concept of "conflicted."

"Actually, I think I'll be staying," she says carefully, flashing a saccharine smile. "We can do homework together later, okay? I won't be long."

Okuyasu hazards a glance at Josuke, slightly slack-jawed and more than a little nervous.

"You think something ain't going right with them?" he whispers.

"Beats the hell out of me. I'm not complaining." Josuke looks at his cards disinterestedly, sighing at the thought of his inevitable loss. He got dealt a shitty hand.

As soon as Koichi's out of sight, she turns to them, eyebrows knit together in determination.

"I'm not going to lose to the likes of you," she mumbles.

"Hearing that from you kind of makes me want to skip town and form a new identity. 'Yo, the name's Hosuke Jigashikata, how's it kickin'?'"

She smirks, but he can call a bluff when he sees one.

Over the next few weeks, he learns a lot about her over games of poker and cups of coffee. She's allergic to citrus fruits, she likes puzzles but prefers ones with words, she's pretty good at video games despite not having much interest in them, her favorite color is purple and her favorite animals are ducks. She doesn't cry at movies, but a sad song will utterly incapacitate her. She likes science and composition in school, but she hates history. Her favorite story is Tristan and Isolde with Frankenstein being a close runner-up.

Josuke is still utterly terrified of her, but the thought of her cooing at ducks in the park slightly, ever so slightly, ameliorates his fear.

As they play koi-koi deep into the night bathed in the soft yellow light of his living room, long after Koichi and Okuyasu have departed, he comes to his own conclusion: Yukako Yamagishi has mellowed out.

Josuke may be fairly dense when it comes to girls and their feelings, but he gets the sense that Yukako likes him. (Not that way, of course.)

She starts to confide in him about her life, little by little. What her day was like, what she's feeling. Admittedly, much of it is about Koichi — she may have calmed down a bit after the honeymoon phase, but she's still obsessive enough to make him a little uncomfortable.

"All my parents do is work," she says, lying on his sofa and filing her nails while he reads comics on the floor. "And I'm an only child, so I'm alone all the time. That's fine though. I don't like people much, except for Koichi."

"I dunno, you seem to not hate me or Okuyasu anymore."

"You amuse me, I'll admit. Like watching a monkey in a zoo."

"Well, that's a compliment if I ever heard one."

They fall into a comfortable silence, and Josuke's eyes are starting to feel tired when she speaks up.

"I think I misjudged you, Josuke-kun."

"Look, any romance is better than Romeo and Juliet's. I haven't read a lot of Shakespeare, but even I can tell you that."

"I thought Romeo and Juliet was supposed to be, like, all romantic and shit. Don't you like that stuff?"

"Why do I even bother? I can't believe Koichi prefers to hang out with philistines like you."

"You're the one who decided to come over even though Koichi couldn't make it. And yeah, well, this fill-a-steen is kicking your ass right now."

She purses her lips as she loses yet another round of Mario Kart.

"Well, Koichi said I should come. I didn't want to leave him all alone when he's so sick, but he begged me. I don't know why."

"Do you regret it?"

The question sounds far more serious than he intended it to, and she stares at him for a long minute before turning her eyes back to the screen.

"No," she says bluntly. "I do like spending time with you — when you're not acting like a buffoon around Okuyasu, that is."

He bites his lip nervously.

(He'll take it, he supposes.)

She is crestfallen when Koichi leaves for Italy ("It's only going to be for a week or two, Yukako—" "It doesn't matter!") and refuses to leave her house for three days, but Josuke manages to lure her back into the real world.

"Come on, Yukako-san, you can't be sad forever. Well, I guess you wouldn't be anyway, since he's coming back soon." Still, she refuses to open the door to her room.

"It feels like forever."

"You're right, but we gotta go on somehow."

"I don't want to."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "If I bought you food, would you feel better?"

"Koichi won't like me if I get fat."

"You're not gonna get fat. And I'm pretty sure he'd like you no matter what."

The door opens just a pinch, a mess of black hair showing through.

"I like Italian," she says quietly.

"So you can admit that we're actually friends now, right?"

She scowls. "I guess."

"Finally."

iii.

Exactly two weeks after his nineteenth birthday, he gets a phone call at 10 AM.

"What? You're moving to Tokyo?"

"Yeah," Koichi says, and he sounds almost hesitant — depressed, even. "I managed to get into a pretty nice school, and my mom's adamant about me going there…"

"Doesn't sound like you're too enthusiastic," Josuke scoffs, leaning back in his chair and balancing a pen on the bridge of his nose.

There's some shifting on the other end before Koichi finally answers. "It's not that, it's just — there are complications. Leaving Morioh's not going to be easy after all the time I spent here."

He vaguely feels as though his friend is alluding to something specific, but he doesn't press it.

"Well, we gotta get together for one last hurrah before you go!" Josuke pauses, a thought occurring to him. "Did you tell Yukako-san?"

"Um."

"Ah."

An awkward silence suspends itself between them before Koichi finally sighs and relents. "I should tell her. I think I'm gonna do that. I don't know, Josuke. I just felt like I should've told you first for some reason. You're probably the person who's going to take it the best."

"Really? You think Rohan's gonna throw much of a fit?"

"You'd be surprised!" Koichi's voice cracks with something that sounds like it's squarely between mirth and terror.

"Just let me know if that bastard tries to handcuff you to his front porch or something, all right?"

"Yeah." Koichi exhales with what seems like relief. "Let's hang out tomorrow. I'm leaving next Saturday, but getting ready will probably keep me busy most of the time."

They agree and bid their farewells. He hangs up the phone and waits in the same spot.

At exactly 12:48 PM, he gets another call.

He sighs as he hears the melodramatics on the other end.

"I'm upset too, Yukako-san, but you've gotta let him go," he offers, trying not to sound as resigned as he actually feels.

She explains everything; how she tried to beg him to stay, how he let her down gently every time. How she offered to come with him. We can't afford it, he said. Could you believe that? She said she'd get a job. She'd transfer to his school. If they didn't accept her, she'd threaten them. How could they say no then? But Koichi wasn't having any of it. We already talked about threatening people, Yukako. I want you to come with me too, but maybe we just need to wait a little while.

"But what do I do, Josuke-kun?" she wails.

Words cannot adequately convey how awkward he feels. "Well, I mean, you've got letters and phone calls and stuff like that. And email's gettin' pretty popular, isn't it? He's only gonna be a train ride away, too. Uh. A two hour train ride, but still. That's not too bad, right?"

"It's not the same!" She sounds somewhere between hysterical and furious, and a part of him fears that her hair will come creeping through the receiver and choke him.

"I know it's not, but you want him to be happy, right? Then you have to let him do this."

She goes quiet.

"Besides, if you work for a while, you could save up and move there. Until then, you've gotta deal with me," he teases — of course, he never can pin down when she'll accept it and when she'll throw it right back in his face.

She does neither this time.

"You're right. I want him to be happy."

Something in her voice hurts him.

Josuke plans on helping Koichi move out, but before that, they all congregate once more to bid their farewells.

He's supposed to be saying goodbye to him, but he can't stop looking at her — the subtle downturn of the corners of her mouth, the glassiness of her eyes.

His departure forces them all to grow up in a way. She's remarkably quiet and terribly depressed, and it takes a while to coax her into even a derisive smile.

Josuke finds himself wishing that Koichi had found a way to take her with him for far more reasons than he can count.

The phone rings just an hour short of midnight, and he nearly trips over himself to pick it up before it wakes his mother up.

"What's up?" he says, trying to keep his voice down.

"Hi, Josuke-kun."

"Oh, Yukako." He slides against the wall behind him and sinks to the floor. "You're usually asleep by now, aren't you? Is something wrong?"

"You could say that."

He isn't sure what to say; there's so much he could say, but he waits for her to continue.

"I don't usually feel bothered when I'm by myself, but tonight has been...strange. Can I come over?" she asks timidly.

He swallows. Hard.

"Er, yeah. Yeah! Of course you can," he replies, sounding just a bit too eager. "Mom's sleeping so we're gonna have to stay quiet."

"That's fine. I'll be there soon." A pause. "Thank you, Josuke-kun."

He brushes it off, bids a brief farewell, and hangs up.

Shit. He isn't going to have enough time to make himself look decent; she'll have to deal with the tousled mess of hair and the t-shirt and pajama pants.

"I don't know. I'm not really looking for sympathy or anything, but this is harder than I thought it'd be. And I knew it would hard from the start."

She sits cross-legged across from him on the living room floor while he lies on his side.

"I'm sure you guys will get used to it. You said you're seeing him in a couple weeks anyway, right?"

"Yeah, but…" She fidgets, picking flecks of fuzz from her cardigan.

She looks so desolate, and it just doesn't seem right without her typical theatrics.

"I hate seeing you like this," he admits, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Where's the Yukako who's too busy insulting me to be sad?"

He scoots toward her, and he isn't quite sure whether he held out his arms first or she did, but he locks her into a firm, sincere hug.

Oh, God. He's so glad he didn't do this before, and he hates himself for doing it now.

She's one of the strongest people he personally knows, but she feels so delicate. He's never held a girl like this before; Josuke is somewhat worried he'll actually, not-figuratively crush her if he holds her any tighter. Her cheek is soft against his neck and she smells amazing. All those weird romance novels he found in his mother's room once upon a time weren't lying when they described girls' scents.

(He's somewhat overwhelmed with the urge to scream fuck you, Koichi into the night sky.)

He lets go of all conscious thought and enjoys the contact, the feeling of her warmth on his skin.

It's this lack of conscious thought that spurs him to tilt his head and brush his lips against hers. She (presumably) doesn't register it at first and hums pleasurably, reciprocating the gesture.

Reality does not come back to them both until he attempts to deepen the kiss — at which point she tears herself away and gasps; out of shock or the genuine need for air, he can't tell.

"What is wrong with you?" she shouts, pushing him away.

He tumbles back just a bit, but doesn't lose his balance. Josuke isn't sure what to focus on; the sight of her wiping her mouth contemptuously, the sound of blood pounding in his ears, or the lingering smell of her perfume (lilies and lemongrass).

"Huh?" His voice jumps an octave or two, and it hardly sounds like his own. "But I — I thought you…"

He trails off, fury quickly supplanting his confusion. He manages to keep his voice low, for fear both of waking his mother and — after all, despite his rage, he doesn't want to upset her any further.

"I think you should leave, Yamagishi."

"You can't just tell me to leave after doing something like that!" she hisses harshly, also keeping her voice down.

"It's my fucking house, so yes, I can, actually!"

He may as well have slapped her, if her expression is anything to go by. Stark shock is not a pretty look for her, he decides.

"All right," she says. Her voice is slow, deliberate — each syllable slicing into him like a scalpel. "All right. I'm going home."

She gets up, gathers her things from the sofa, and leaves.

The rest of the night is misery.

He closes the blinds on his window and throws himself onto his bed, his head unceremoniously hitting the backboard. He can't even bring himself to curse.

What does he tell Koichi? How does he tell Koichi? What will Koichi even do? What will she do?

He groans into his pillow and balls the sheets up in his fists.

When he dwells upon it, he realizes something.

The look she had given him before she left was not one of fury, as he may have expected from her words. It reminded him of something else, something specific.

It was the same look he used to give relatives as a child when his mother wouldn't allow him to accept their gifts of money.

Josuke does something that he can't remember ever doing in front of his friends: he bows his head.

"I'm sorry. If you don't wanna be friends anymore…" He can't bring himself to finish that sentence. The variations are all equally unappealing.

"No, it's not that, Josuke," Koichi starts, voice quavering and betraying impending tears, "—you made a mistake, but it was all bad circumstances, you know? I know you don't think about Yukako that way—"

(Josuke grits his teeth and shuts his eyes tightly)

"so I'm not mad at you. I'm worried about Yukako, though."

He raises his head at this. He had anticipated that Koichi would put on a brave face and forgive him for the sake of keeping the peace, but he wonders if there's something more that he isn't privy to.

"What's up with her?" He squares his jaw and diverts his gaze away from Koichi to the grey autumn sky above them. They're sitting on a bench right outside the university's engineering building. Josuke made the trip all the way here, but he can't even enjoy what the city has to offer. "I guess I don't really have the right to ask that question anymore. Sorry."

"I don't know. Things have been weird since I moved away. Between us, I mean."

"Sorry for contributing to that."

Koichi blinks quickly and shakes his head. "Let's just forget about it, all right? Like you said, it was just a spur of the moment thing. Maybe...maybe I would've done the same thing, if our positions were reversed. And you're a good guy, Josuke. You wouldn't…"

There's an acute ache in his chest; the burden of so many hearts leaning on his own.

He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he says. He does his best to meet her corrosive gaze. "I was an idiot."

"Yeah. You were." Her voice could cause a nuclear winter in his heart if he allowed it to.

"I know," he replies softly. "I acted shitty that night, but I'm not mad at you, I swear. You didn't do anything wrong. Are you mad at me?"

She blinks at him, and he gets the same exact feeling he did when he first met her. He writes his will several times over in his head. He'll leave his video games to Okuyasu. Koichi can have the few books he's got. The trash can and that moldy bread on his windowsill can go to Rohan.

She averts her eyes towards her feet. "If Koichi isn't mad, then I'm not mad."

Her answer inexplicably frustrates him, but he accepts it.

Josuke shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs. "He wasn't happy, but we talked it out. That's what adults do, I guess. Are we even adults now, anyway?"

"I never really thought about it. We should at least act like adults."

"Well, I should, but I should also wake up early and stop doing stupid shit until fuck o'clock in the morning. Doesn't mean I'm gonna do it."

That elicits a soft but clear chuckle from her, which she tries to hide behind the back of her hand.

"Really, though," he continues, hoping he sounds as serious as he feels. "I don't really know what came over me. I probably seem like a scumbag who was taking advantage of...whatever was going on there. But I didn't mean anything by it. Are we still friends?"

She frowns and nibbles her bottom lip.

"We're still friends," she replies. There is weight behind her words, a story she won't tell, but he won't press her.

Things aren't quite the same between them after that. All parties manage to reconcile with one another, and Koichi actually makes good on his word to act like nothing happened (which, quite frankly, baffles Josuke).

But the fact remains that he is the hypotenuse in this situation — the other.

He spends far less time with Yukako than he once did, and the void is shockingly palpable. She has a faraway look in her eye whenever they do meet, and she's just as terse as she was when they first met. He can't claim to be very perceptive, but this time, it doesn't seem like it's out of scorn — just fear.

(Oh, the scourge of injuries that Crazy Diamond cannot heal.)

"I'm sorry, Josuke-kun."

He looks at her quizzically as they walk home.

"Seeing the way Koichi forgives people has changed me a little, I think. If he chose to stay friends with you, then I shouldn't push you away, either."

He has to bite his tongue from saying something particularly awful, but she continues.

"And you — you were one of the first real friends I ever had, and I know you're not a bad guy. So I'm sorry for being distant," she says with more certainty, looking him directly in the eye.

It isn't what he wanted to hear, but then again, he isn't quite sure what he wants to hear anymore.

"I'm moving to Tokyo."

It comes so quietly, so uncertainly, it takes him a moment to process it.

Ah, déjà vu.

"To be with Koichi," she says hastily, omitting the obvious of course for his sake.

Silence envelops them, and it's not the amicable, warm silence that's fallen over them up to this point. He wonders what he's even supposed to tell her in this situation. "Don't go"? "Great timing"?

He settles on a tired "I'm happy for you."

He tried to sound sincere, but apparently it wasn't sincere enough, because she looks like she's about to have a breakdown.

She folds her hands together on the cafe table and looks at him.

"Are you really, Josuke-kun? Or are you just saying that to save face?"

It's a fair question. It's a question he didn't think she'd ask, and it's one that he isn't sure he can accurately answer.

He inhales.

"I really am, Yukako."

She swallows; her lip trembles.

"I believe you."

He offered to help with the process, of course. He did the same with Koichi, after all.

They speak intermittently while she folds clothes and he tosses miscellanea into designated boxes. It's the usual. She teases (mocks?) him about his future plans; he halfheartedly defends himself.

Silence comes over them once more, and it's impossible to pin down — somewhere slightly away from comfortable, somewhere slightly away from awkward.

When the last box is packed, she turns to him.

"Josuke," she says — no honorific, he notes painfully. "Thank you."

"Come on, it only took a couple hours. You don't have to thank me."

"That's not what I meant." Her body goes rigid, her hands balling up into fists on her thighs. "Thank you, for — for being my friend. Even after what happened."

Josuke is suddenly hyperaware of his own breathing. Has his tongue always felt this weird? Has it always taken so much effort to lift his limbs?

He hears a noise as soft as a pin dropping, and his heart sinks into his stomach.

"Aw, man, don't cry. Seeing you cry is gonna make me cry." It isn't a lie.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is stern, angry, and her eyeliner is running, leaving pale grey streaks in their wake.

"What? Don't be sorry either. Fuck, Yukako."

He didn't expect this, not after recent events. Despite how close they had become, she still always kept so much to herself. It would be so much easier if she hated him, as he thought she would.

Great. Now they're both sitting here crying. This was not how he wanted to spend his Sunday.

"You'll keep in touch, right?"

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, recovering quickly. "Yeah, you know it. This sucks. Everybody's leavin' Morioh. Maybe it's high time for me to get out of here too."

She stays silent, but that's fine; any possible answer isn't one that he wants to hear.

"I guess this is it. We should take this all downstairs," she mutters, rising to her feet and gesturing around the room. "Koichi will be here soon."

They lug the boxes downstairs (she's surprising strong), silent all the while. When the deed is finally done, Josuke turns to her.

"That should do it. Anything else?" he asks, looking anywhere that isn't her face.

"No, that should be fine."

They both stand there, not entirely sure what to do with themselves, before Yukako slowly approaches him and outstretches her arms.

"Goodbye," she says quietly as she embraces him.

The last time this happened was a royal disaster, and he fears that this will end similarly — albeit for different reasons. Her fearlessness emboldens him, though.

"It's not goodbye, dummy. It's not like you're moving that far."

She says nothing; the unspoken truth thickens the air around them.

"You still owe me a game of koi-koi, you know," he whispers playfully in her ear.

She laughs sadly. "I know, Josuke. I know."

His arms slacken just a bit.

He wonders if she really does.

(He wonders if she ever did.)