A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAH I forgot to update. Sorry :'( I was moving back in to school, and got distracted. I'll give you a double header this time, to make up for it. Updates will be every two days from now on. Ennnnnjoy!
Yukito, needless to say, was having a bad week. Actually, horrible as the week had been, Yukito was having a bad year, and this past week had just seemed like the logical progression of the fiery down spiral that had become his life. The problems had all started last November, when that damned journal that Clow had been foolish enough to keep his notes in had turned up missing. Stunned and confused, Yukito had kept the rush of emotions that accompanied this revelation locked away from those he loved, thinking he'd have time to sort through the muddled mess of guilt and shaken sense of identity later, on his own. But hardly two weeks later he had stumbled across the first new construct, and had found himself both fascinated and disgusted by the fractured, broken boy. Worried by how his loved ones would react if he began to explain the strange, powerful draw that the construct had over him, he took the path of least resistance and simply told no one. However, as time went on and his relationship with the construct deepened – and more and more new constructs were generated – virtually everyone found out about Soichiro. Everyone, that is, except Touya.
At first, he kept Soichiro's existence from his lover out of embarrassment and shame that such an abomination had been created on his model. He worried about what Touya might see, reflected in the splintered shards of Soichiro's once-soul. But the deceit weighed heavily on his mind, and before he knew it the situation had entered a vicious cycle, with Yukito lying to Touya in order to cover the tracks of his guilty conscience. Before long, every day was an agony of shame and the fear of discovery. There had been a point, almost two months ago, when Yukito had finally decided that he needed to come clean, even if it meant facing his lover's wrath and disgust – but no sooner had he firmed up his resolve for the conflict, that Soichiro joined that damned gang of constructs, and suddenly Yukito found himself lying to Touya in order to save his life.
Yukito, as the model of all the new constructs, the oldest among them and the most powerful, was an object of fear and loathing to the gang. He was never sure how much information Soichiro had been forced to give them, but as soon as he joined the gang he knew that his own safety, and by extension Touya's, was in a state of uncertainty. Yukito's behavior around his lover, already erratic because of the strain of keeping his guilty conscience hidden, became even more unpredictable – which only made it more important that he keep the situation from Touya. He had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if Touya found out about his dishonesty he would be pushed to do something rash – and Touya would be an easy, desirable target for the vicious gang of children.
So he had tried his best to manage the forces that were, by that point, totally outside his control. And of course, he had failed. It had almost been a relief when Touya finally knew it all, although he had been surprised at how quickly his lover dubbed an entirely platonic relationship an 'affair.'
And that was how Yukito found himself sitting in this waiting room, legs crossed, arms folded, as cold and composed as any king. He would never know how Sonomi had managed to get them an appointment with her psychologist already. Touya had called her yesterday, Sunday, for her recommendation, less than twelve hours after Yuki had agreed to see a therapist. Sonomi, being Sonomi, not only recommended her exceptional personal therapist, but also promised that she'd find a way to bypass the normal waiting list and get them in to see her this week. By luck, the doctor had had a cancellation this morning and had agreed to an appointment at ten-thirty, which had suited both men fine. Touya's residency hours didn't start until the afternoon on Mondays anyway, and Yukito simply took the morning off of work. When he had called in on Friday, he had said that he might take almost a week off, anyway.
In contrast to Yuki's icy composure, next to him Touya was a jittering ball of nerves, clearly uncomfortable in this big, crowded, public waiting room. Of course, Yuki reflected idly as he felt Touya shift his weight next to him for the fifth time in less than a minute, he might not have found himself sitting quite so stiffly if he hadn't recently been brutally beaten with a lead pipe – but mostly, he knew, his rigidity sprang from how unhappy he was to be here.
It wasn't that he was opposed to therapy or marriage counseling in general, it was just that he knew that it could never work for him, personally. Explain to a psychiatric professional that he still bore deep emotional trauma from discovering that his grandparents had never existed? Explain the carefully repressed resentment he held against Yueh for commandeering his body, mind, and heart – for forcing him to mourn for Clow even as he loved Touya, for appropriating his body and tempting Touya to follow him into often mortal danger? Explain the confusion he felt at owing his primary allegiance not to his lover and partner, but to his Master? He'd be institutionalized before you could say 'Clow Guardian.'
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a stooped, graying, just-over-middle-aged Japanese woman peer around the corner of the hallway from where the examination rooms were housed – Yuki glanced at the clock and noted it was exactly 10:29 – before a pleasantly grizzled voice called, "Kinomoto-san and Tsukishiro-san?"
Touya nearly sprang to his feet, the nervous energy he had been accumulating for the past sixteen minutes uncoiling in one sudden motion. Yukito, on the other hand, stretched the seconds by meticulously replacing the magazine he had been looking at – a fashion magazine which he hadn't been so much reading as scanning for any new photographs of Sakura's modeling jobs – before heaving himself jerkily vertical, wincing as his bruised muscles stretched into new and painful positions.
The air between Touya and he, Yukito noticed as Touya waited impatiently for him to haul his beaten body out of the chair, usually softer and lighter than other air, now crackled with dense tension. It made him feel scratchy and cranky and oddly frozen, and a headache was building up behind Yuki's eyes.
The room that they were ushered into was comfortable and spacious, and was decorated rather like their living room at home. Yukito felt Touya relax slightly, surrounded by leather upholstery and bookshelves – both things that reminded him of his father. Personally, Yukito would have been happier if the floor was linoleum and the walls antiseptic white. This was a doctor's office, after all, and he didn't like the implication that he was supposed to be making himself comfortable.
Dr. Kobayashi sat down smilingly and motioned them both into their seats.
"We really appreciate you seeing us on such short notice," Touya mumbled jerkily as soon as he was down, Yukito still trying to hide his winces of pain as he lowered himself into his chair. Touya was still operating in that nervous, spring-like way. "I hope that Sonomi wasn't too forceful with her request…"
Dr. Kobayashi smiled at the earnest, well-intentioned young man. Yukito, once he was finally seated, kept his eyes coldly on the bookshelf just over the doctor's right shoulder, his arms crossed in a position that even he knew was defensive.
"Not at all," she replied. Yukito was irrationally irritated that her smile reached her eyes. "How are you acquainted with Sonomi?"
"She's my Aunt – ah, she and my mother were cousins," Touya corrected himself. Dr. Kobayashi's face opened in recognition.
"Ah! I was wondering. No, don't worry about Sonomi. She's been my patient for a very long time. She wouldn't still be seeing me if I were a push-over."
Touya nodded, looking relieved, and Yukito suddenly had a savage desire to wipe the look off of his lover's face. Something cold and hard and nasty had worked its way to the forefront of Yukito's mind, and taking pleasure in the pointless cruelty of the thing, Yukito suspended Touya's small comfort.
"We should introduce ourselves," he said. It wasn't a snap, but it was as cold and brutal as ice. This is professional, the frozen daggers in his voice made clear. Professional, not personal. "I'm Tsukishiro Yukito."
Touya paused for a moment, giving Yukito a hard stare that was more concerned than angry. Yukito chose to ignore it. "Kinomoto Touya," he finally muttered, glancing at the psychologist as he said it, to see if she had taken offense. Dr. Kobayashi had fixed her eyes on Yukito.
It wasn't a glare or a frown or anything else on the cold side of polite. It was merely a quizzical stare, the kind that could be maintained indefinitely. It was the kind of look that Yukito himself often used when he was confronted with a domineering pig, just to prove that he could hold their gaze for as long as he liked. Feeling like a fool, Yukito glared over the top of his wire frames into the psychologist's eyes, daring her to turn it into a contest of wills.
Of course, she didn't take the bait. He never did either.
"My name is Kobayashi Rikako," Dr. Kobayashi said firmly, after a pause that was only a moment longer than was comfortable. "You both are welcome to call me Rikako. I'm very pleased to meet you both. So, tell me," her voice was gracious and inclusive, but so long as Yukito maintained the glare, it was clear that she was speaking only to him, "what brings you to me today?"
"I was unfaithful to my partner," Yukito said bluntly, hoping that this opening would shock a reaction out of the woman, and he took a kind of brutal satisfaction in watching Dr. Kobayashi's face go carefully blank.
A moment later her neutrally sympathetic mask was back in place. "I understand that this will be very hard for you," she said calmly. "But it is necessary for me to know the facts of the indiscretion in order for me to help you."
"I -" Yukito hissed, but he clamped down just in time. For just a moment he had heard a strange, metallic bite on his lips, and when he had glanced over he had seen a glittering, darkening aura reflected in Touya's eyes. With all the tempered strength of resinite, Yukito forced the magic that had been coursing through his veins back behind his conscious mind. He felt himself shrink, and the world around him grow, as he dammed the power that had been pulsing around him, lending him that inhuman, icy composure. It left him feeling as if ash were in his veins, not blood. Emotion followed weakness, and Yukito felt blood rush to his face as his sense of shame kicked in on overdrive. He always forgot the consequences of relying on Yueh's magic for strength in stressful situations. "I am so sorry," Yukito said instead. His voice was warm, and shallow, and just a pitch lower than people expected, and entirely mundane.
"I am very, very sorry for my inexcusable rudeness," he continued, giving himself a mental jab to the ribs. Dr. Kobayashi's face had taken on that expression of studied blankness again. It could be a picture in a textbook, Yukito mused. Woman Hiding Her Emotions. Or maybe Doctor Analyzing a Troubling Subject. Yukito couldn't blame her for being surprised at his sudden change in demeanor. Touya, who was used to Yukito relying more or less heavily on his icy, moonlit magic depending on the time, just looked relieved. Yukito was about to give him a reassuring smile when he remembered what the therapist had asked him. Swearing internally, he removed his glasses under the pretense of rubbing his eyes. The story would be easier to tell if he didn't have to see the carefully neutralized rainbow of emotions arching across the poor woman's face.
"I'm a medical anthropologist," Yukito began lamely. He hoped he didn't sound like he was changing the subject. "I work for a foundation whose mission is to bring healthcare to those who fall through the cracks of the system. I do field research with communities that are under-served." Here he paused, sneaking a glance at Touya. He had lost track, over the past three days, how much of this Touya had been told or guessed, but he was nearly positive that he didn't know this next detail.
"Just over a year ago, I began working with an orphan population in Kabuki-cho." True to form, Yukito felt Touya stiffen next to him. The Red Light District wasn't dangerous, precisely, but Yuki's attractive force was strong enough that Touya always encouraged him to avoid the area. He shrugged off the sick, anxious feeling he always got when he knew that Touya was upset with him, and continued on, as bravely as he could. "During the course of my research I became deeply… involved with one of my consultants. A resilient, resourceful, beautiful boy - teenager. Named Soichiro. I…" Yukito closed his eyes for just a moment, taking the time to banish the suddenly overwhelming feelings of love and regret, "cared for him very deeply. And, a month later, when the foundation axed the funding for the project, I… kept seeing Soichiro.
"I wanted… I wanted him to have a place – a person – to come to, and to trust. I wanted him to have some memories with me that he would truly treasure. I wanted to be with him as much as possible." Yukito stopped, and grimaced, and took a breath. That last had sounded beseeching, even to him. When he continued again, it was in his best imitation of a low, impersonal voice. "I saw him… usually twice a week. Sometimes more. I took him places. Bought him things. I spent a lot of money and had a good time."
Here, Yukito had to stop to collect himself. While none of this was easy for him to say, telling the next part of the story would be a little like standing in a bed of hot coals. He reached up again to rub his eyes and try to massage the headache out of his temples, but this time he kept his head resting in his hands.
"Two months ago Soichiro made the ill-informed decision to join a gang. I found out about it the day after his initiation, and… felt terrible. He hadn't dropped a word, hadn't called me, hadn't consulted me in any way. And… it came just after a period of time where I was – ah – preoccupied." Yukito allowed his voice to shake on the word. He didn't think he could have said it if he hadn't. He was glad that his hands were covering his eyes, so that Touya couldn't see the badly contained tears. "I was furious. And culpable. I demanded that he leave immediately. I think it was the first time Soichiro had seen me really angry. I know it was the first time he had seen me yell. I nearly tra- I nearly really lost my head," Yukito corrected himself at the last second, knowing it was a poor substitute, wondering if Dr. Kobayashi and Touya could hear the bile rising in his throat. "I was stupid. If I had just taken him with me then, I probably could have handled it. As it was I was the last person in the world that Soichiro trusted, and I was yelling at him. Of course he ran off. A brain-dead stuffed animal could tell you that he would run off."
Yukito was silent for a long moment. He could feel Touya becoming restful beside him, eager for him to continue and have this ordeal be done with, and forced himself to drag his manic regrets into some sort of articulable order. "I got a call from him the next day. Things were… bad. Apparently, he had tried to leave the gang when I told him to, but they were demanding the blood price. You know, 'The only way you're getting out of here is in a long, thin box'?
"I have some experience with gangs for my work. And this particular group of punks, well... Let's just say I had something that they wanted. I got them to agree to a trade: my blood for his life and freedom, which they decided was fair. They got to beat me bloody five times and I got to take Soichiro away with just a few bruises and sprains. A win-win situation," Yukito shaped the words delicately, allowing them to roll off his tongue. At least Touya seemed to appreciate the sarcasm. What he could see of Dr. Kobayashi looked non-plussed, and Yukito cleared his throat nervously, wondering what she would look like if had told her the real conditions.
"After the third time I went down there to get the shit knocked out of me Touya cottoned on. He followed me the fourth time, didn't like what he saw, and interrupted." He could feel something dark gathering at the corners of Touya's psyche, and waved a mollifying hand in his direction. "It was all the better that you did," Yukito forced himself to say dispassionately. "They had gotten themselves all worked up into a tizzy over something. They probably would have tried to kill me just out of spite. And they certainly would have killed Soichiro.
"Touya heroically went back the next day and rescued him," Yukito couldn't keep the bite in his voice down, couldn't stop it from scalding white-hot across his tongue. The flash of pain that rippled across Touya's aura made him instantly regret it, but the after-image that his terrified fury had left on his soul in that moment demanded to be bled off somehow. "That was – oh – day before yesterday. And now we're here."
Yukito reached over and pulled his glasses off the side table and slipped them back over his nose. Dr. Kobayashi's disconcertingly neutral face had slipped off sometime while he was speaking, and she was now looking at him with brightly sympathetic, deeply pitying eyes.
It is a testament to the strength of Yuki's character that he didn't begin to hate her in that moment.
"Thank you for telling me all that," she said finally, her voice low in a studied improvement of real sincerity. "That must have been very hard for you to share. And you to hear," she added, including Touya with a sweep of her bespectacled gaze. "I thought we would have a little more time today – I would like, at some point, to do just a general interview of you both so that I can get to know your situation a little bit better. For right now, though, we only have a few minutes left, so I'd like you both to fill out these surveys."
Yukito had a heavy, yellow packet pushed into his hands, shortly followed by a pen, and found himself raising an eyebrow in consternation. The first question was, On a scale of 1-5, how enthusiastic are you about counseling? The second was, On a scale of 1-5, how enthusiastic are you about continuing your relationship?
But it was really only the last question that caused him to truly worry, and that was, If I could change any three things about my partner, they would be: _. He struggled with it for a long time, and in the end left it mostly blank, wondering all the while what Touya was writing down next to him. In the end they turned in their questionnaires at almost exactly the same time, and Yukito had to fight the urge to sneak a glance over Touya's.
"Thank you very much," Dr. Kobayashi said, carefully placing the surveys into a manila folder. "Now, my recommendation is that you both have individual therapy sessions with me every week, in addition to a weekly group session. But, I understand that you, Tsukishiro-san, work for a nonprofit, and that you, Kinomoto-san, are a medical student?" she trailed off delicately.
"Money isn't an object," Touya said instantly. Yukito hesitated only fractionally before nodding his agreement – most of their wealth was actually his, Yukito having been left most of the money in Clow's estate, but Touya so rarely asked for anything that he was not about to argue. Dr. Kobayashi relaxed.
"Good," she said firmly. "Would this time be convenient for our weekly group sessions?" Again, Touya agreed immediately. Yukito took a moment to deliberate, hesitant to sign over one of the most productive times of the work week, but the look in Touya's eyes won the day.
"Of course," he muttered quietly, carefully looking anywhere but into his partner's eyes. "I work very flexible hours. Any time is fine."
"Then Tsukishiro, why don't the two of us meet on Tuesday afternoons? Let's say one o'clock?" Again, Yukito found himself agreeing contrary to his own judgment. He could take an extended lunch break on Tuesdays, after all.
"And you, Kinomoto-san… hm. This might be trickier. Would you be available to come to my house on Thursday evenings? I also have a practice there."
It was settled immediately, and the interview was over. They were silent as they were shown out of the office and crossed through the awkward waiting room, but at least, Yukito reflected, the silence was merely overcast, rather than electric.
"That was embarrassing," Yukito finally mumbled in the privacy of the elevator. Touya didn't need to ask to know what he was talking about.
"I know," he said simply. "Can't you control yourself better than that?"
If there had been even the barest hint of reproach in Touya's voice, or if he had voiced it as a demand or order, Yukito would have shot him down instantly. But as it was… he was no match for the deep, quiet, and above all hesitant anxiety that was glimmering in his love's eyes.
He hissed his breath out between his teeth for what felt like a long, long time. "I'll try," he finally said, feeling wretched. "It's the best I can do."
To Yuki's surprise, Touya reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze just as the elevator door was sliding open.
"I know you will," was all he said, for the first time in days with a true wrinkle of love in his voice. It made Yukito feel more wretched still, because he knew that once again he had lied.
…
By the time that Yukito managed to drag himself into the suite of offices rented out by the foundation, he had almost never been happier to see a place in his life. The suite was small and cramped, the walls were a disgusting beige color, nothing matched, and nothing worked, but to Yukito the out-dated décor and tight corners filled with loose stacks of paper flying every which-way were as inviting as home.
Maybe more inviting, given the circumstances.
Yuki and the rest of them had been working in this office since graduate school. The five had been hired on in the second year of their master's program as interns for an experimental project, and had never left. They had made their mark on this place, over the years. A number of partitions had been added, so that now the space was divided into five small personal offices, a front room used for research interviews that was marginally nicer than the rest, and a back room where the office equipment was housed and meetings took place.
Best of all, as soon as Yukito pushed into the front office, the enticing smell of cold pizza and the sound of loud, happy bickering alerted him that just such a meeting was currently under way. He allowed his body and features to relax – wincing as the muscles that had been supporting some of his worse bruises turned to mush – and picked his way through the jungle of paperwork to reach the back office.
The talking mostly stopped as Yukito gained the doorway, walked around to his traditional seat at the far side of the circular table and slowly folded into his chair. His torso continued the momentum built up by his legs, and a moment later he was sprawled across the nicked, uneven wood with one arm hanging limply by his side and the other arm flung out.
"Dude. You look terrible," Yasuo said after a moment. Yasuo was the only other man in the office, and the only person in the office who preferred to sleep with women than men. He made up for his nearly-constant scapegoat status by always being the first to speak.
"Yasu-chan," his rival-recently-turned-wife, Aiko, said warningly. "But really, Yuki-chan, what happened?"
It was sweet little Yuri who pressed a slice of the cold, congealing pizza into Yukito's dramatically outflung hand, which he closed around gratefully. He sat up and took half the slice in one bite before answering.
"Touya found out about Soichiro," he said. There was a general hiss of sympathy. "And he decided that my behavior constituted infidelity. I spent all morning in a marriage therapist's office." There were cries of outrage from across the table.
"What?" Yasuo burst, half-standing and raising both fists.
"But, but, that's not fair!" Yuri stammered, her eyes going wide at the thought.
"I never liked this 'Touya' character," Sakuko, their unofficial leader, muttered darkly. Yukito shot them all a look, and the noise level died down to a low, indignant buzz.
"It's his right to define infidelity however he wants," Yukito pointed out, reaching for the still-untouched extra large pizza box that was always put aside exclusively for him. "And it was affecting our relationship. I'm just surprised that he took it so badly," Yukito mumbled around his food. "It's not like I had a romantic relationship at all with Soichiro, and he was still really angry after I'd explained that I didn't feel for Soichiro that way. I guess I know now that I have to be a lot more careful. Touya has a really broad definition of cheating. And," Yukito said thoughtfully, actually bringing the hand that was holding his food all the way down to the table in a gesture of uncharacteristic absent-mindedness, "I was spending a lot of money on him."
"But you're independently wealthy," Aiko wailed. "It's your money!"
"She's right, you know," Sakuko said quietly. No matter how softly she spoke, she could always be heard, because the others actually closed their mouths out of deference each time that she opened hers. "You were orphaned twice. You deserve to use the money you've been willed however you want."
"It's not my money, it's our money," Yukito reminded them. Aiko sat bolt upright, eyes gleaming.
"O-ho," she said triumphantly. "Is that so? Is it a joint bank account?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Does he have any legal right to the money?"
"Well, no, not as such, but-"
"Has he ever given you a ring?"
"You can see he hasn't, but-"
"There!" she said, banging her fist on the table, her eyes gleaming a strange mixture of victory and anger. "The bastard has not made any public promise to you, ergo he has no right to be accusing you of infidelity!"
"I was lying to him," Yuki said meekly. "And please don't call the love of my life a bastard."
"Sorry," she said vaguely, ever gracious in victory.
"So… what happened to Soichiro?" Yasuo cut in quietly, in a rare moment of thoughtfulness. The question hung heavy over the table like fog, dampening and deadening all other noise.
"We-ell," Yukito said carefully. It never once crossed his mind to lie or abridge the truth like he had with the therapist. "I'd been trying to keep Touya from seeing my bruises, which I think pissed him off. He barged in on me while I was in the shower Friday morning and was… upset. I thought he'd try something stupid, so I decided to finish the damn job that day-"
"So soon after the last time?" Yuri murmured, placing a concerned hand on Yukito's arm.
"But Touya followed me and saw what was going on, so he did something to scare the kids off," Yukito continued doggedly. "I didn't see what he did. Probably something stupid. Then, the next damn day, he infiltrated the gang's stake to rescue Soichiro." It felt good to not try to hide the rage in his voice when he said the last bit.
There was stunned silence for a moment.
"Hero complex," Sakuko said disdainfully at almost the same time that Yasuo burst,
"Yukito, let me get this straight. You're not angry that this Touya fellow went behind your back and followed you without first asking you what was going on or giving you time to explain, but you are angry that he rescued Soichiro?"
"He could've been killed!" Yukito blazed right back. "I can deal with construc – I can deal with gangs! I have the training, the education, the equipment, the connections, the police back-up when it is necessary." Yukito stopped to catch his breath, and continued at a more normal volume and tone. "He could have been killed. They both could have been killed. And he's given far too much for me already. Call me selfish, but how could I continue my life when I already have to struggle to face my weak little parasitic face in the mirror every day?"
Yuki's four co-workers exchanged speaking glances. Yukito didn't speak much about his past or his personal life, and there were plenty of times when he simply couldn't offer an explanation for strange behavior or a mysterious absence, but spending every working day of the past eight years in each other's company, they had begun to piece some things together. It had been Yuri who had said, after their first two years together, "If you don't believe in magic, two weeks close acquaintance with Tsukishiro-kun will convert you."
This time again it was Yuri who spoke. "You're not a parasite," she said, in what for her passed as a firm voice. "And Touya loves you. I'm sure that whatever he's given for you he would say is absolutely worth it." She had risen to her feet as she spoke, and was now cradling Yukito's head in her hands. There was uncharacteristic silence as her voice rang out, and Yukito found himself trying but failing to avoid the dark deepness in the young woman's eyes. "I'm sure he would say it even now. Things will get better. You'll see."
Yuri blinked, and the spell was broken. Yuki reached up and gave one of her hands a grateful squeeze, and nodded his agreement.
"Yeah," he said a little sadly. "I'm sure it will."
"Well," Sakuko said with a meaningful glance at her watch. "Yukito, I'm glad you're back. This is going to be a busy week for us."
…
"Yukito, can you come in here for a second, please?" Yukito blinked. The other anthropologists in their group swore by his sixth sense, but he had to say that sometimes Sakuko's was much more uncanny. It was six o'clock, an hour after normal closing time, and he and Sakuko were the only two in the offices. He had just stood up to begin preparing his briefcase to take home for the night – Sakuko never, ever, called one of them into her office when they were busy with something else.
"Yes?" he said politely, poking his head out of his office and peering through the evening gloom into the adjacent one. She looked at him for a long moment, fiddling her pen between two not-quite-feminine hands, her short, wavy hair turning into a dark, frizzled halo from the body heat trapped in her tiny office.
"Are you all right?" she finally asked, putting down the pen, a note of uncharacteristic tenderness in her voice. Yukito quirked her a little smile and pulled the tiny spindly chair that was the only other furnishings in her office out of its corner. Straddling it, he gave Sakuko his full attention.
"Not completely," he admitted. "But I will be."
Sakuko nodded. "How's Soichiro?" she asked after a moment. Yukito shrugged.
"He's in good hands. I'm not going to be allowed to see him anymore."
Yukito had spoken with the same evasive syntax and bland tone of voice that he always did when he couldn't explain what he meant. Sakuko's only reaction was to raise her eyebrows almost imperceptibly – but in her case, the blankness to her features wasn't something carefully studied in order to earn a patient's trust, it was simply the way that she was. She respected people's privacy, no questions asked.
"I'm afraid this isn't going to be a good month for you, Yuki," she said heavily. She was the only one of his group mates who ever called him by Touya's honorific-less pet name. She was the only one who had ever tried, but Yukito had found that he didn't mind. The name sounded natural spoken off of her lips. "The Foundation is thinking about axing the funding for the Yasuyuga Project." Yukito stifled a groan. "I need everyone working fifty hours a week to get as much done as possible."
"And then when they do axe the funding, you need me to bargain for more time," Yukito finished flatly. Yukito could be extremely persuasive when he needed to be, but it was something that sat heavily on his conscience, and his conscience was about as heavy as he could bear right now.
Sakuko looked down and nodded.
"Oh, very well," Yukito conceded, and gave his friend a true smile. "If it's for the good of the partnership. And because I know you've been pulling seventy hour weeks for the past three months to try to get the project finished."
Relief and gratitude flooded into the woman's face, pushing the last few ounces of uncertainty out of Yukito's.
"You're to start increasing your time next week, of course," Sakuko said firmly, a note of new life in her voice. "I want you to take it easy this week."
Yukito waved a hand in acknowledgment and thanks. "Mondays from now on I'll be working twelve to eight. Tuesdays I need to take an extended lunch, so I'll work til six. Thursdays I'll work your schedule." It was a bit of a joke. The partnership always said that it was a nine to five job, unless you were Sakuko who simply worked until the work was done.
"Is that for the therapist?" she asked, once again displaying that uncanny ability to know things that she probably shouldn't.
"Yeah," Yukito sighed.
"It might help, a little," Sakuko said gently, seeing the hard look in his eye.
"Yeah," Yukito agreed, slightly more enthusiastically. He allowed himself a few moments of companionable silence before heaving himself to his feet.
"I should be going. You should too." Sakuko waved an ambiguous hand. Yuki already knew that it was hopeless. None of the other four had ever seen Sakuko leave the office, and only once had Yuri ever seen her arrive.
Yukito closed the main suite door with a click, but not before he had thrown every light in their corner of the building on, to keep her company.
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