AN: Hello my darlings, more personas because hot damn. Not an awful lot of feedback on 'Smother' on here which is... Eh, it's alright, that's not what it's about :) if those kind folks that reviewed 'Rogue Wave' see this then hello and thanks!

The title for this fic comes from a song by 'Daughter'. If you're interested in sitting in a room grossly sobbing about OTP feels then I highly recommend them, yeah! Cover image is by me, if you'd like to see more then feel free to visit my blog (mitsuru-kirijkz on tumblr).

Absolutely linked to 'Smother', also. Eventually they'll be drafted together, so yes!

This is my first attempt at seriously writing them interacting (apart from dat citrus) so let's hope it goes down well, more chapters in future. Resisting the urge to just shove them in a motel and scream HUMP so congratulate me on my willpower, dammit.

Enjoy!

"I apologise." A woman was standing at the Inn's entrance, cutting off her path.

Yukiko was carrying a basket full of groceries from Junes and her arm was aching dully. She looked at the bystander and found herself studying the subtle creases and stiches of what appeared to be a very delicate suit. A shock of red hair cut a broad swathe across the material, curled beautifully at the ends. The black of the suit set the hair alight and the sun glanced handsomely off of the curves. She was standing powerfully a few paces away from the inn's doors, with a hand on her hip and the other lax at her side. A slender white necktie delicately tickled her chin with each passing breeze.

The Amagi girl blinked. Was this woman from the country?

The figure turned slightly and she could see the tip of her nose. Her eyelashes fanned out beautifully from what she could observe. Oh, right.

"You don't have to do that." Yukiko said as a default response – she didn't really know how to handle apologies and pretty much dismissed the majority of them point blank. The woman gave her a look. She thought for a moment. "What for?"

The stranger tilted her head. Her strong posture suggested that of someone of high birth. There was innocence in her eyes.

Someone of high birth who felt awkward, Yukiko amended mentally, observing the woman's fingers drumming her hip. "I've been standing out here for ten minutes, now. I am likely in your way."

Yukiko frowned good-naturedly. "Are you lost?" She asked, setting her burden down slowly and coming alongside the stranger. They stood side by side, looking up at the inn as though one of them didn't practically own the place.

The woman in question canted her head towards her. There was a superior tilt to her chin that implied nobility, and a placidness that reined over any would-be arrogance that status would imply. Yukiko wasn't sure if she should be bored or not. "In a manner of speaking, perhaps. I'm not, actually…" The woman said, closing her eyes and smiling enigmatically, as though laughing at herself. She had a gentle manner. "I just came here on very short notice, so I'm a tad unprepared."

A motorcycle glinted attractively at her from a few feet away. It was parked with evident haphazardness as though in a hurry. A cherry red helmet bearing the most delicate of scratches rested pleasantly on the leather seating. There were no bags or cases to speak of.

Yukiko's mind jumped to parking spaces and reservation bookings. Did she miss something in the books this morning? She looked at the stranger directly. She had fine, sculpted features and delicately pointed eyes that hinted at Eurasian heritage. A foreigner? I wonder how she heard of us? The expensive suit slashed a sharp silhouette against the backdrop of the orange evening.

The woman's fringe kept falling into her eyes. Yukiko chanced that she may have used some kind of product to keep it at bay. Although saying that, something about this woman suggested to her a lack of affinity for cosmetics. She was wearing some but not an awful lot. Perhaps she had just come from work? The Amagi girl looked at her intently. She was a strange explosion of modernity in this quiet, traditional place.

The redhead gestured mildly to the inn with a wave of her hand. She was put together and quite thoroughly stunning, perhaps it was in her job description to look beautiful. "Sorry, do you know where the manager is? I want to get a room." Her voice jarred Yukiko from her thoughts. The two blinked at each other.

"She's away on business." Yukiko said, pulling at her dress thoughtfully. The stranger's face fell slightly. Her grandmother once mentioned to her that tenseness could easily be observed in the mouth. This woman looked like she wanted to bite her lip but that action wasn't like her, so she'd settled on looking vaguely lost. "But," Yukiko continued, leaning down to get at her shopping, "you're looking at her daughter, so." Yukiko lifted the weight with practiced smoothness, letting out a small sound of effort. There was a smile to her voice.

The woman raised her eyebrows and looked like she wanted to say something.

"…You can have a room." Yukiko said, her eyes hooding slightly as her cheeks lifted with a smile. She looked seductive and dear. "We had a couple leave today." She wasn't sure why she felt it was relevant to say it was a couple. "Please, come in." She gave a polite bow.

"Oh." The stranger gave a quick bow in return. Her hair fell, strong and gentle all at once like a delicate tremor. When she lifted her head she appeared just a little more at peace.

"I'm fine."

"I assure you, I'm fine."

"Yes I got here safely. There was a bit of traffic coming out of Tatsumi port as expected, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"No… I don't plan on quitting my obligations. Tell that damned fool I will be back when I am ready."

"You may leave as well. There's no sense in you being overworked while I am absent."

"Oh, absolutely. The scenery here is… bon. I haven't explored much yet I must admit. Could you send that off to… Hold on."

"Ah, the Amagi Inn. Yes. You've heard of it? I found this little brochure of hers; she always leaves her things lying around. I have half her house on my coffee table."

"I wouldn't say that…"

Mitsuru chuckled pleasantly.

"She's hardly a serpent. Come now, you love her, do you not?"

"My apologies. I was of the idea that you had been together for… I don't know… Five years now, was it?"

Her voice was full of mirth. It was a subtle flavour on her.

"Aha, I'm hardly one to talk. You're right."

"…Thank you, Yukari. It… No, well. I will. Take care of yourself."

It was a few days until they encountered each other again. Yukiko was pencilling something in the accounts folder and had a delicate pair of spectacles – she actually needed them outside of that whole fog lark, would you believe – balanced precariously on her nose. She gave a huff – the gentlest, mildest aggravated exhale – from her nostrils as she did the numbers. She coped with the bookwork quite well usually but it was her eleventh hour and she was exhausted. A mysterious onslaught of calls had been assaulting the inn for several days now and she had no idea where the bloody hell they were coming from. Kiri, something? Koro what? Nuisance.

The evening sun filtered wearily through the open windows. Flies traced drunken trails outside, lazy and haphazard, hapless to the heat and warm. Bamboo instruments played their muted music in the yellow distance and each fragile tic coaxed the drive out of her. She tilted her head. Her long hair eased silkily down onto the table like liquid obsidian. Her pen was running out of ink. It was a cheap one from a set of twenty at the convenience store. She should have known better.

Mitsuru Kirijo walked into the inn at that moment, all heels and fatigue. Yukiko flicked her gaze over to her and took the time to straighten, canting her posture towards her. A customer is always a customer. Her eyelids felt like god damn boulders but the woman was all style and chic and it hurt not to take her in.

Mitsuru was wearing a fitted white blouse and high-waist khaki trousers with a slim tan belt buckled around her middle. There was a thin denim jacket with delicate embroidery draped over her shoulders and a pair of brown tinted aviators tucked into the open collar of her shirt. It was a simple outfit, and sophisticated. Yukiko looked down and observed she was wearing a set of riding jodhpurs. Slightly odd but it worked, bizarrely. Seeing this woman was a kind of event in itself here in Inaba. Yukiko dimly wondered if she had been accosted in some manner while she was here. Rise Kujikawa was one thing, but…

A Junes bag hung from her slim wrist. The skin looked a little red; perhaps she'd been wandering around for a while? She looked hot. Sweaty. Did she sweat? Yukiko thought stupidly, tapping her pen against the desk.

Mitsuru spotted her and inclined her head towards her. Yukiko gave the usual Amagi Inn half bow and the foreigner made her way to one of the inn's lounging areas. She sat on one of the chairs, heated and gold tipped from the sun, and reclined there peaceably. The plastic bag was placed to one side and Mitsuru was staring at the gardens. Her profile gleamed gold and her eyes where melancholic, lost.

Yukiko frowned, setting her pen down.

She slipped quietly from behind the impressive counter and took measured steps towards Mitsuru. They both looked small in the expansive lobby of the inn. Their postures were unsteady and shaken, and they looked like wavering shapes in the evening light.

Yukiko stood a few feet away. The chair was placed in the doorway to the gardens at the threshold and they were on opposite sides. Yukiko looked at her. "Are you alright?"

Mitsuru didn't look at her. She was staring out into the beautiful nothing of somewhere in the garden. Yukiko waited.

Eventually she exhaled. Slowly and deeply, from the chest. It looked painful. "Amagi-san," she began quietly. "How was your day?"

"I figured I ought to be asking you that question."

Mitsuru smiled but it looked drawn on. "It was nice."

Alright then. Yukiko held her place next to her.

There was a period of quiet before either one spoke.

"You know," Yukiko piped up to the sound of Mitsuru's voice, glancing quickly at her. "I told you I was lost, didn't I?"

The Amagi girl smiled gently, remembering. "In a manner of speaking…"

Mitsuru quirked her lips at that and Yukiko's chest bloomed internally at the small victory. "Yes," Mitsuru replied, folding her hands so they were crossed placidly on her lap. "I'm in a lot of trouble for that, actually…" She did that face that looked like she wanted to bite her lip but couldn't. She looked… impish?

"You know," Yukiko leaned against the doorway, placing her weight on one leg. "You don't seem the sort to get 'in trouble' over anything."

The other woman let out a delicate snort of amusement. "Please. I am very much in trouble." She shut her eyes and smiled. Her lids seemed heavy. "We've barely met."

"Yeah? Well you're sleeping under my roof, pal." She murmured back smartly. Her robes were starting to feel heavy and she could observe the material sagging. It was absolutely happy hour right now but Mitsuru seemed so painful and Yukiko being Yukiko didn't have it in her to leave.

'Pal?' Mitsuru mouthed, eyes twinkling.

Yukiko felt the corners of her lips lift of their own accord.

The foreigner peered slyly at her. "These are special circumstances. Not everyone's roof is an inn."

"What." Yukiko rolled her eyes, chuckling faintly. "Never had a sleepover before?"

There was a beat of quiet as the question was considered. Mitsuru's eyes turned ever so slightly hollow and Yukiko wondered for a second if she'd hit a nerve or something.

"I suppose you have a point, Amagi-san." She relented, canting her head towards her. Her eyes were crimson and gleaming. The sadness had retreated for a moment it seemed. "I suggest a more appropriate term, however." Mitsuru pressed a hand to her temple as though to soothe an ache. "'Sleepover' feels…" She deliberated her words, smiling thinly. "Somewhat juvenile…"

She was terribly interesting to observe. Yukiko quirked a brow. "Oh?"

Mitsuru made a sound of agreement. Admittedly she seemed like the least juvenile person on the earth but Yukiko was beginning to have her suspicions. Mitsuru seemed to be devoting quite a measure of thought to this linguistic predicament despite her apparent troubles and that on its own was oddly charming.

"I guess you've been spending the nights, then." Yukiko said mildly, not really thinking. The seated woman gave her a delicately perplexed expression and the innkeeper chuckled. The sound eased from somewhere in her throat and Mitsuru blinked.

"I… suppose I did. Absolutely." She said carefully, clearly pronouncing each syllable.

"Right?" Yukiko's cheeks felt warm. Was that odd? Mitsuru just made her think that was kind of odd. Eh? Those shrewd, hot eyes were focused on her now and she felt like she was on the other end of a sniper's laser pointer.

"Right." Mitsuru repeated awkwardly. She didn't know quite how to feel about that exchange.

Yukiko smiled and it was a little wobbly. She looked like a china doll that felt embarrassed and Mitsuru had to chuckle, just the tiniest bit.

The dark haired girl coughed awkwardly. "So." She looked pointedly outside. Mitsuru Kiri… No. I need to lie down… "What made you pick Amagi Inn anyway?"

Mitsuru regarded her with an amused expression before turning to look at the gardens. A sheen of gold glittered on the fine grass and the sprinklers were turning on. Roll on 7pm. "A friend of mine." She shook her foot; a few drops were coming in. "Kind of… An unscrupulous sort, actually."

"Oh?" Yukiko tilted her head. Mitsuru's profile was an absorbing sight that she felt oddly ensnared by. "You like that, huh?"

Mitsuru smiled secretively, her eyes hooding. "Oh, absolutely."

The Amagi girl let out a huff, folding her arms. "I'm afraid I am with scruples, Mitsuru-san."

"Really?" Mitsuru inquired gently. She gave her a sideways glance and that little crimson glint did wonders to Yukiko's stomach. Her expression was earnest and teasing all at once and she had to have some sort of talent for doing that. Maybe that was her job? "Perhaps we'll have to do something about that, then."

"Perhaps." Yukiko exhaled as she agreed and her breath shuddered without her intent. I should get ahead with the books… She looked wistfully at the counter, finding it hard to ignore the funny feeling in her body. Studying. Always very absorbing. When she looked at Mitsuru the woman was staring ahead of her again, her body relaxed on the unfurled lounging chair. There was tenseness to her shoulders and she looked deeply tired. Her gaze was flat and she looked asleep with her eyes open.

Yukiko frowned ever so slightly. She seemed nicer when she arrived for the first time. It would be great if Self-Esteem Souji was here. Yukiko understood something wasn't quite right today.

There was a brief silence. The cicadas were beginning to stir and a cat was perched peaceably on one of the ornaments. The koi were getting restless and Yukiko thought about setting up the pond netting.

"Do you have a bar?" Mitsuru asked suddenly.

Yukiko gave her a level look. "I'm afraid this isn't that kind of inn." She said matter-of-factly. "However… I can prepare the finest orange juice."

Mitsuru raised her eyebrows and looked decidedly unimpressed but there was a hint of humour in her eyes.

The Amagi girl squinted at her. "Or dust and water, whatever you prefer."

"Luxurious." Mitsuru replied, rolling her tongue over each syllable as though she really believed it.

"It's what I'm supposed to say." Yukiko wanted to laugh and settled on frowning mildly at her guest, smiling at the same time. Looks like we have a badass over here.

"Dust and water?" Said guest parroted. There was a superior tilt to her left eyebrow and Yukiko noticed it and found it kind of hot for some bizarre reason.

"…That kind of inn." She dragged the last word out.

Mitsuru looked wry. "Ah." She crossed her legs and propped her head up with her palm, placing weight on her elbow, smiling.

How old was she? Her late twenties, perhaps. From the change in position Yukiko noticed a delicate watch on her wrist. It was silver or white gold, maybe. Her grandfather used to tell her about people with watches like that, what even was Mitsuru anyway?

"But," Yukiko wasn't looking at her and smiled privily to no one in particular. "You're welcome to my own stash, if you'd like."

Mitsuru actually laughed out loud. "Amagi-san?!"

"Pardon my offer." That was… that was pretty nice. "You look like you've earned it somehow." Yukiko let out a breathless laugh and walked away from the sunlight towards one of the hallways.

Mitsuru followed the dark outline her body made in the sunshine. She coughed but it seemed inconsequential. Hm. "I wouldn't say 'earned'." She said quietly, looking at the floor and blushing for some reason.

Yukiko bobbed her head. "Excuse me for a moment." She padded over to one of the rooms in the hall and disappeared momentarily.

Mitsuru turned onto her front so she was on her stomach. She folded her arms over the top of the reclining seat and rested her chin on her hands, content to peer after Yukiko's shadow. "Here I was hoping you'd slip open your kimono to reveal a veritable plethora of alcohol."

Yukiko chuckled quietly, hidden from view. "I think you were just hoping I'd slip open my kimono." She called.

Mitsuru smiled wryly to herself like a guilty criminal, shaking her head. "Ah…"

They were sat around a kotatsu in one of the recently vacated rooms. Yukiko laid out a couple of glasses filled with ice and a bottle of swishing liquid. They tinkled against the hardwood.

"Kotatsu?"

"I know, I know." She seemed used to the question. Yukiko settled in underneath the blanket despite the warm weather. She'd since undone her robe and was wearing a slim fitting red summer dress with thin straps that clung to her shoulders. A tiny gold chain was around her neck and her robes were folded neatly in a corner. Mitsuru paid attention to her collar bones for a moment but otherwise said nothing. "It's because of the print."

Mitsuru peered down. Indeed, it was a… charming print of shiba-inu dogs set to an orange background, filled with little flowers with yellow petals. How… twee. It was cotton and quilted, well-made if not a little…

"I'm listening?"

Yukiko swatted at her. "What are you talking about? This is completely your sort of thing."

Mitsuru shook her head with a smile.

The innkeeper persisted. "Perhaps stick a diamond or two on them?"

The redhead raised her eyebrows at that, getting that empty look in her eyes again. Yukiko resisted the urge to pout and mentally filed away 'money' as a subject to be avoided. You'd think she wouldn't… Never mind. Whatever.

"Anyway, we had a recent customer who appreciated it." She petted the face of one of the smiling hounds thoughtfully. "It's still here because I'm not supposed to be taking it back into the attic without at least a helmet or something ridiculous... And my parents are still away."

Mitsuru hummed in acknowledgement. "Or perhaps a gun?" Life was trickling back into her face with the distraction and she regarded the bottle on the table with a curious expression. Yukiko shrugged, saying something that sounded like 'well Chie gets pretty scared of the spiders, so' before reaching over.

Mitsuru seemed to be paying particular attention to the bottle as Yukiko handled it, pouring a reasonable amount into each glass. The liquid made a rich, filling sound as it ran over the ice.

"You like?"

Yukiko was putting the lid back on the bottle and presenting it. At the same time it was cradled near her chest and her collar bones made an inviting point that urged Mitsuru's attention. Yukiko was awaiting a reply and Mitsuru felt a tad odd and depressed and interested simultaneously.

She held up her hands as though in surrender. "You've caught me."

Yukiko followed her eye line and looked at her necklace. She looked back at Mitsuru again and shrugged, placing the bottle in front of her. "Well, you're not very subtle."

Mitsuru went a bit pink and it was only until Yukiko asked her if she was alright did she realise that her weird bout of… whatever had not been acknowledged.

She inclined her head. "Yes, I am fine. As for my lack of subtlety…" Mitsuru looked off into the corner with a defeated expression. "If you say so."

Yukiko giggled pleasantly. "The only person I know who stares at whiskey like that is Naoto. She knows things. Not enough to help her with tolerance, though."

Mitsuru looked at Yukiko, sat in her summer dress and laughing sweetly with a hand by her face and then at the hard alcohol on the table. D'accord.

"Ah… Whiskey, Amagi-san?"

"You won't be calling me that by the end of the evening…" Yukiko took a sip of her drink knowingly. She savoured it and cleared her throat. "Yukiko." She began, annunciating, "Yu-ki-ko."

"A-ma-gi-san." Mitsuru smiled, her voice warm. Yukiko was shaking her head. The foreigner paused, her glass held to her lips. "Snow child?"

Yukiko groaned immediately.

"I like it."

The innkeeper gave her the stink eye and swished the ice in her glass as if to fend her away.

"It's cute."

"Ughhhhhh…" Yukiko vocalised, sipping pointedly at her drink.

Mitsuru smiled with genuine cheer. "I'm quite partial to snow if that helps."

Yukiko raised her eyebrows. "It doesn't, but thank you anyway."

The redhead chuckled in response and they sipped quietly at their drinks.

"Still."

"Hm?" Yukiko had her lips pressed to the rim of the glass and her dark eyes peeked inquisitively at the other woman. Her eyelashes were naturally dark and fanned out. Mitsuru felt a peculiar ache in her abdomen.

"Whiskey."

"Oh."

Mitsuru gestured with a relaxed wave of her hand at the bottle and Yukiko scrunched her lips at it.

"It's what I'm used to, I guess." She shrugged, swirling her glass. The tinkling sound was refreshing.

"Ah…"

Eh? "I don't mean it funny." Yukiko smiled, her cheeks a little pink from the heat and the drink.

"Ah… Pardon." Mitsuru held her glass to her chest with both hands and looked at her orange reflection. "I did not know if I was supposed to feel awkward or not."

"You know? I get what you mean."

The redhead smiled into her glass. Yukiko felt oddly pleased.

"Well… This is just easy to get a hold of when people come over." The dark haired girl relaxed onto one hand, propping her weight onto her wrist. "Sleepovers… or 'night spending'…" She gave Mitsuru a conspiratorial glance and the latter shrugged helplessly. "They do that to you, believe it or not."

Mitsuru thought about Port Island and Yakushima. Akihiko, Minako and Yukari huddled around a bottle of vodka by the fire. Soft sand and Yukari grumbling and Minako teasing and Akihiko's embarrassed coughing and Fuuka and Junpei with absinthe. Aigis explaining the terrors of alcoholism to Koromaru's whimpers and Minako's tinkling laughter. Junpei turning his back to guffaw and Fuuka sneaking in a few gulps before smiling covertly at Mitsuru and putting a finger to her lips.

She released a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"I am… somewhat familiar."