A/N: Yay, update time! When a leap day falls on a Saturday, I just can't miss an opportunity like that. It's fate. Trying to dredge myself out of Chapter 50, which is a two-parter, but it's kinda like traffic - at least it's still moving. Thanks to ZainR and Seiram for the reviews!
ZainR: Hah! You know me, I do love my crossovers ;D I've honestly been thinking about the social media thing for years, wondering if it was a plot hole... but it just doesn't seem very Battlefront-worthy, y'know? (They never would've found Shiina!) And I'm glad you liked Ushio's little bonding moments with Naoi, Yuri, and Kanade. More cute Ushio bits in this chapter! (Ooh, you're thinking. I will say being led to more than one person is very possible this Battlefront weekend!) (Hah, I had to rewatch the scene myself for this chapter. But it was very validating!)
Seiram: Excellent question. I'd agree the big official concert wasn't her first performance of "My Song" (just the most life-changing), so she's possibly had her memories back for a while. What she has done with them since... well, we shall certainly find out! (Jealous Naoi is such a treat. Green's a good color on him ;D) And thank you! My headcanon is that Yuri's mom has a thing for flower names, so I scrolled through the "Hanakotoba" wikipedia page and Ajisai seemed the cutest. (Paternal Naoi is even cuter than Jealous Naoi - I loved writing him and Yuri like that. Better start coming up with flower names for their kids, eh?)
Enjoy!
[Chapter 49]: Intervention
The Battlefront guys (plus Okazaki) really lucked out that Mizuzaka's little baseball diamond was unoccupied on such a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon. Maybe it was the indirect effects of Locus Felicis, Ayato considered, drawing everyone to other parts of the park or even the pool in this late May heat. Maybe kids were playing soccer or shooting hoops at the basketball court or hanging out at the amphitheater nearby. Mizuzaka's was kind of a widespread park, cut in two halves, with the sports and amphitheater half closer to Ryou's side of town.
Ayato could see the amphitheater from his spot on the bench. Or at least a side of it. It was far enough away that a rogue baseball wouldn't brain anybody in the hypothetical audience.
And to think that barely a couple blocks from the amphitheater, just outside the borders of the park, stood the girls' precious beauty salon.
It'd been a very interesting tidbit to learn. Ayato wondered if Yui could even possibly see it out the window of the waiting section or wherever they were right now. She'd been excited enough to go to a simple salon – if she knew how close she was to a stage that could potentially hold Iwasawa and her musical power, she'd probably spontaneously combust. Or tackle someone. Maybe him for not telling her.
Not that he'd even remembered the salon was there, in his defense. He'd always gotten trims at home. Yuri was his personal stylist, and he was hers. Saved a good deal of money – and really, any excuse to touch her hair…
He reddened, trying hard not to think of the feeling. His fingers carding through carmine locks. That blissful shiver she always did...
Shaking his head like an Etch-A-Sketch, he turned his focus back towards the amphitheater and easily regained his interest. It was still fairly far from here, and angled to him in such a way that he couldn't see the stage or anyone on or around it. Just the bulletin boards on the side, covered in notices and colorful posters probably advertising upcoming performances. Sometimes, if he and Yuri were in the mood for a show, they'd wander over there to peruse the upcoming events. Once in a while their modest Mizuzaka amphitheater would have something or someone impressive in the lineup.
And with Locus Felicis leading Yui so close today, Ayato couldn't help but wonder.
His curiosity piqued, he made a mild effort to listen for the sound of acoustic guitar chords drifting towards their field. He didn't know Iwasawa as well as the other Battlefront members at this point but he could imagine her sitting on the empty stage practicing. If not doing a small street performance nearby.
But if there was anything musical in the air, it was undetectable from this distance over the guys' bantering as they ramped themselves up for their makeshift ballgame. They were chatting amongst themselves, trying to figure out field positions with their limited players. Noda held the bat possessively behind his neck like a halberd, annoying Hinata who wanted to bat first. They'd been arguing about that for a few minutes now, while Okazaki and Otonashi got off track chuckling about what Noda had been like when he first played baseball with him. After knowing the guy for a few months, Okazaki readily believed that even a ballgame could be guerilla warfare in Noda's eyes.
Ayato scoffed and hunched forward on the bench, his chin resting in one hand and Mitsuo's leash tangled around the other. At this rate, the girls would be done with their hair appointments before anyone even set foot on first base.
In part, he could blame this on Okazaki. By the time they'd reached the park, he was already getting along famously with the Battlefront, schmoozing with them like they were old friends. Even Noda seemed comfortable with him, keeping close and turning to him when he had something sarcastic to mutter (though that was probably because he was the only one here he really knew). He was especially curious about the afterlife world they'd mentioned and kept asking questions about it. An effective ice-breaker, it was a topic they just couldn't seem to avoid, and was delaying any actual gameplay.
Not that Ayato was going to be particularly invested in their little ballgame. It was just… Okazaki's presence here was driving him crazy. Nosing around, wanting to know everything, acting like he knew what he was talking about – what anyone was talking about.
That matter-of-fact tone of voice, that domineering way of his. He held himself so coolly and calmly that no one except Ayato seemed to see past his levelheadedness to the aggressive hothead beneath.
None of them had been there a month ago. None of them had heard the things he'd said before Ayato had snapped and made him his first hypnosis victim.
He side-eyed him with a muted glare, carefully wrangling Mitsuo away from a stray baseball. Okazaki was discussing something with Otonashi and Matsushita the Fifth, rubbing his chin and nodding as Otonashi pointed towards the outfield. The two had been playing well off each other from the beginning, bonding earlier over their pasts as cynical delinquents and how oh-so-cute and incredible and inspiring their wives were. Now Otonashi was looking at him like he was a new recruit.
Maybe he was all right, if Otonashi liked him so much. But when Ayato looked at him, all he saw was…
"You have no one. You're alone because you chickened out. Because you're trying to protect yourself by saying you don't love her."
Ayato gritted his teeth as the words slithered from the traitorous recesses of memory and insinuated themselves in his ears. He tore his gaze from Okazaki but the voice followed, curling around him like a shadow.
"Maybe you don't. If you loved her, you wouldn't have hurt her like you did."
His fingers clenched so tightly that his nails dug through the fabric of the leash pressed against his palm. But the feeling in his chest was tighter. It reached up into his throat and crept inside his head, filling his mind with images he didn't want.
In the afterlife, her drenched and bloodied figure weak in his arms.
In the dream, her beautiful face dissolved of all its stubborn strength, crumpling with anguish as the tears began to well.
In Kyuuya, her desperate escape from Masayo's kitchen after he'd first called her an NPC.
"I think she's better off without you."
Ayato bit down hard on the inside of his lip, letting his eyes drift in the direction of the salon before casting them resolutely down at the ground. Mitsuo looked up at him and cocked his head slightly, letting the curly fur of his ear dangle in the dirt. His little face was ripe with question, and small traces of sympathy.
I'm fine, he wanted to tell him. It wasn't real anyway.
But then he'd not only be talking to a dog, he'd be possibly even lying to one. And after already being pitied by the damn thing, this was reaching whole new levels of low.
"Naoi!"
Ayato glanced up abruptly, removing his chin from his palm. Okazaki had turned and was fixing him with an expectant, curious stare. He frowned back suspiciously.
"So you're definitely going to just sit this one out?" Okazaki clarified, raising an eyebrow. "Not into sports, huh?"
Over at home plate, Hinata laughed as he idly dug the tip of the bat into the dirt. "You're talking to a guy who thinks that pottery is a sport."
Unamused, Ayato leveled him with a glare as he tangled Mitsuo's leash around his fingers. "Someone has to keep an eye on the dog."
"We could tie his leash around one of the poles if you want," Ooyama said helpfully.
"With your luck, I think that would be a bad idea," Ayato muttered. He could just see it now – the dumb dog breaking free and darting off to track down his beloved boar friend.
Fujimaki came up alongside Ooyama, clapping a hand on his shoulder and smirking at Okazaki and Hinata. Otonashi had already claimed his place at the pitcher's mound, with Matsushita the Fifth in the outfield. Noda was in position as catcher, too busy making threatening gestures at Otonashi to care about what was going on behind him.
"Aw, let him sulk," Fujimaki jeered. "He's probably just moping because he misses his girlfriend."
Okazaki raised both eyebrows, not from surprise but from heightened interest. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say by girlfriend you mean Yuri," he said shrewdly, with that same barely veiled mirth from earlier when he'd heard him growl.
"She's not my girlfriend and I'm not moping over her," Ayato said, curling a lip at them. Couldn't they just play their stupid baseball? He wasn't a spectator sport!
Fujimaki didn't look convinced. "So you're saying Yurippe has not been on your mind in the last five minutes?"
It was his mistake to, for a fleeting second, in his head try to measure how long this conversation had been dragged out. His expression must've wavered, his hesitation too pronounced, because Fujimaki looked triumphant.
"See?" he said grandly, turning to Hinata and Okazaki. "He's been like this all week. Turned down our invitation to hang out on Thursday." He slung his arm around Ooyama's shoulder and shook his head in disbelief. "Imagine! Not wanting to spend time with us. Sure sign of depression if I ever saw one."
"I told you I was busy," Ayato said lowly. He hadn't the energy to bark at them.
Hinata glanced from Fujimaki to Ayato, frowning as something akin to speculation sparked in his eyes. It faded into curiosity.
"What is it with you, man?" he asked. "What changed?"
His voice was so disgustingly gentle that Ayato almost called up his hypnotism out of some sort of feral instinct. When was the last time he'd hypnotized someone outside of his Battlefront reunion duty? The fact that he couldn't recall was shocking, honestly. He wondered if the ability was like a muscle that occasionally needed to stretch.
If he tried it now, it would be damningly defensive. And it wasn't worth the effort, so he just looked up at Hinata with dull eyes.
"Nothing's changed," he responded, and dropped his gaze to the ground in reflection. "Nothing will."
He'd meant for that second part to slip under their radar. For a moment he thought it did, from the crunch of dirt under their shoes as they finally turned away to start their stupid baseball game. Then Fujimaki sank against a dugout pole with a snort of disbelief.
"Poor bastard's given up," he said, and threw in a mournful sigh for effect. "Now I'm depressed."
Ayato snapped his head around to glower at him, and at Ooyama and Okazaki as well. "Why are you all so consumed by something that was never real?" he demanded. "Just get on with your game and stop obsessing over false love!"
Instantly the words tasted like déjà vu. Like the night of the concert, at first, but then it was like it was eight years ago and Yuri was right next to him on the school bleachers when he'd shouted something similar at Ami Kawata. The memory was so fresh to him, so real he could almost smell the Akuma air. Even here and now, he could taste the oncoming rain, as if his mother had somehow sent it to him after all. See Yuri's green eyes alight with mischief as she dragged him back to his house after the game to get somewhere dry. Feel the warm steam of the tea his mother had served them upon meeting Yuri for the first time.
The memory was so vivid, but still surreal as a dream. It had come from Akuma, which after all these years felt like a whole other world to him. And yet there were times that he still felt tethered to the place and couldn't believe he'd escaped.
The way those truths clashed, how was it possible to simultaneously feel both?
"Here's the root of the problem," Fujimaki grunted out of the corner of his mouth. "Think of it this way. It's like you're still stuck in a place like the afterlife, except it's not the afterlife, it's your own embarrassingly transparent state of denial. And you'll never even get a chance to be with Yurippe if you don't get the hell over yourself. You're just gonna be waiting there forever, stubborn and miserable and alone."
"That's how you move on from the world!" Ooyama said brightly. He clearly liked the analogy. "Just like the afterlife. You have to face the feelings that brought you there and admit they exist. Then and only then will you have the strength to overcome love's purgatory."
"Enough," Ayato said darkly. These pep-talks and heart-to-hearts had got to stop. He felt like he was at the bottom of a well, staring up at idiotic smiling faces as they flashed him an encouraging thumbs up and told him to climb out. "You're wasting your breath, and needlessly distracting Hinata."
Maybe he liked the well. Maybe he'd made himself at home. Maybe he'd accepted that there was no rope.
"But Naoi…" Ooyama said plaintively, and the thing about dogs resembling their owners must be true because he was giving him the same big old sad eyes look. "We know you have feelings for Yurippe. I think she's the only one who doesn't know. What's stopping you from telling her?"
"I know what it is," came Okazaki's voice.
Ayato's body stiffened, immediately at alert as he detected a smug sureness in his tone that he absolutely did not like. It was too perceptive, too confident, and when he glanced over at Okazaki he saw pure recognition. As if Ayato were a movie he'd already seen a thousand times, a book he'd committed to memory.
"What?" Fujimaki asked, before Ayato could push the question through clenched teeth.
Okazaki's mouth curved into a vague smile, reflective and faraway. From his safe distance, he dared to meet Ayato's eyes.
"He doesn't deserve her," he said calmly. "I suspect he just… knows it now."
Ayato's breath hitched sharply. It tripped down his throat, slamming into his chest, and the impact made his heart stumble and lurch. But as his familiar words settled, powerful as they were the second time around, it wasn't the words themselves that shocked him. It was more the way they fit into his mind like a key to its lock, opening the door to a truth that had been there all along.
When Okazaki had first said this to him, Ayato had only vaguely registered it at the time, more viscerally set off by being called a coward that Yuri had to escape from. Now the words were like Iwasawa's magic song as they completely annihilated a wall of mental glass.
Yuri had accepted him into the Battlefront after he'd led a massacre against them all the day before. She had taken his snide remarks and criticisms with little more than an eye roll. She had praised his hypnotic abilities and welcomed his insights, even encouraged them. She had gone alone into the Guild and then the computer room to save everyone from the shadows once and for all.
In this life, she'd taken the wrap for him with those broken vases. She'd sought him out later and befriended him, given him something to live for and look forward to other than another day at work with his father. Made him new friends, encouraged him out of the darkness.
Defended him passionately. Loved him passionately. Left her parents and hometown behind to help him escape his abusive father. Married him and made all the days of their lives together mean something. Even offered him a chance to begin a family of their own.
And what had he ever done for her? What had he done to warrant the life she had given him this time around? To earn the look of curiosity and desire that he dared to believe, even for one moment, he might've seen in her eyes before the lightning struck?
Insecurity was a plague that had followed him for a long time, even into the Afterlife. Developing hypnotism and donning the identity of God never erased what festered underneath. So when faced with this fearless leader, this selfless and headstrong darling of the Battlefront who even had Otonashi's unfailing respect, he had struggled at first. Resented and ridiculed her, coveting her power.
Though in time he came to understand what it was that everyone saw in her (he had never felt it more clearly than when they found her in the computer room asleep among the rubble), by the end of their time together he had hardly done much to show for it. Simply moving from holding himself above her to trying to get a rise out of her. No heartfelt goodbye, no expressed gratitude for the girl who had given him another chance. Just a quip about women crying and a tip of his hat as he made his way to Otonashi and thanked him instead.
In this life, all he'd ever had to offer her was his love, and even that had turned out to be conditional. At the first test of it, he'd all but spat in her face and pushed her away. Because deep down, even then, maybe he'd already figured out the truth.
Okazaki was right. He'd been right about everything. He didn't deserve her.
Resting his chin in his palm once more, Ayato watched Otonashi wind up and Hinata ready himself to swing. When he was sure they were all distracted, he allowed his surroundings to blur as his eyes filled with resignation and despair.
And he murmured, for only Mitsuo to hear: "I never did."
Mizuzaka's beauty salon wasn't packed, per se, but it did seem to have a lot of loyal customers milling about – and just as loyal and determined stylists. So since the girls had arrived early, and an employee apologetically let them know there would be a considerable delay, they'd all filled up the seats in the cozy waiting area and made themselves comfortable.
Yui took one couch's end seat but kept peeking around the corner, searching frantically for the slightest glimpse of magenta hair. (Or brown, or yellow, or lavender. She was becoming more and more desperate with each passing minute and honestly by this point any member of GlDeMo would be golden.)
Eventually the girl had hopped out of her seat enough times that Shiina just kicked up her legs and claimed her spot, engrossing herself in a magazine about cute animals. On the perpendicular couch, Ryou and Kyou sat with Nagisa, who was leaning on the armrest to merrily chat with Kanade in the chair next to her. The two women had been getting along very well on the way here – the Fujibayashis and Yuri had agreed it was the most talkative they'd ever seen their respective friends.
"Do you think so?" Nagisa was saying. "Is mapo tofu really that tasty?"
Kanade nodded fervently. "Yuzuru and I like it very much, it's our favorite food."
Nagisa pondered this, tapping a finger against her chin. "Well, I'll have to try it sometime—"
"No, no, no, no, no!" Kyou, Ryou, and Yuri shouted at once.
Ushio, the brilliant mind that she was, looked up from a picture she was coloring and wrinkled her nose. "Icky," she added wisely.
Kanade and Nagisa blinked in surprise, then giggled in unison and resumed their conversation. Favorite foods paved the path to dumplings, which launched Nagisa on a happy rant about the Big Dango Family. She even took a spare piece of drawing paper to doodle the characters for a transfixed Kanade.
Yuri watched this from her seat on the other side of Kanade, with a distant look in her eyes. Though she'd warily anticipated otherwise, for most of this outing she'd been little more than a spectator. Watching Kanade bond with Nagisa, watching Shiina occasionally throw sad glances at the sight of Botan's face pressed against the front window, watching Yui rock on her heels as her devil tail twitched hopefully.
Ushio got a kick out of the last one; it was the only thing that could make her put down her crayons. Quick little artist that she was, she'd already churned out a cute Botan-brown blob and a pink figure with a long pointy tail. Yuri had watched that too.
"Mommy loves the dango family," Ushio said, scrawling away on her third piece of paper. "She sings to me before bedtime. We have big dango toys at home."
Yuri let a small smile show. Toddler babble had long been one of her weaknesses, and Ushio had been talking to her the most since this Girls Day thing commenced. Having a vague recollection of the dango hype, she considered the forest green crayon in Ushio's pudgy fist and the round face on her paper.
"Is that the green one?" she asked.
Ushio looked confused at first, but then saw what Yuri was pointing to and shook her head. "That's my boyfriend," she said decisively.
Yuri blinked twice, unsure if she wanted to laugh or not. "Your boyfriend?"
How old was she again? Two? Three?
"Yeah." Reaching for the black crayon, Ushio leaned in close to the paper and started scribbling something on its head. Yuri looked closer, watching it take form.
It was a hat. A black hat, on a nest of green hair.
Recognition set in. She struggled to keep her expression perfectly in place. "What's your boyfriend's name, Ushio?"
Ushio thought about it as if it were a very deep question.
"Naoi," she said proudly.
Now that had caught the other girls' attention. Yui, still at her post at the corner, quickly looked over her shoulder with a tiny gasp. Ryou and Kyou made similar startled sounds, and even Nagisa and Kanade had paused their conversation in mid-sentence.
"Hm," came Shiina's airy voice, and the crisp sound of a page turning. "It sounds like Yuri has some competition."
Yuri, who had sat back in her chair in mild bemusement despite expecting the answer, turned to shoot a glare at Shiina. The woman didn't look up from her magazine but Yuri was confident her ninja senses could pick up on the danger anyway.
Although faintly tickled as she peeked at her daughter's drawing, Nagisa soon blushed and put her hands to her cheeks.
"Ushio, I think you're a little young to be having a boyfriend, or liking boys or anything like that," she said gently, albeit with a sprinkle of motherly panic and mild desperation. "Especially older men." She glanced at Yuri and Kanade shyly and gave a nervous giggle. "I don't know where this is coming from."
Yui crossed her arms, turning around more fully to pout at the group.
"It's probably because some of you have already broken the big Girls Day rule: NO talking about boys," she said sternly, and pointed a finger in their direction. "Do my ears deceive me or was that a certain doctor's name I heard come out of your mouth, Kanade Otonashi?"
Chastised, Kanade made a prim apologetic sound and put a hand over her lips. For a fleeting moment, guilty golden eyes flicked to Yuri.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little confused about this rule," said Nagisa, studying Yui briefly before looking around at the others for answers. "I understand the principle of it for Girls Day, but is there a reason it's enforced so strictly?"
Yui glanced to Yuri almost like a reflex, causing the latter to bristle in distrust. In haste she averted her eyes to Ryou and Kyou, while gesturing to Nagisa. "Didn't you two tell her anything ahead of time?"
Ryou looked embarrassed, while Kyou just folded her arms across her chest.
"We told her we were doing this because a friend needed cheering up," she said defensively. "We weren't sure how much we were supposed to share."
"Cheering up?" Yuri echoed, indignant, and promptly turned scarlet because technically nobody had mentioned any names and her own outrage had just given her away.
Kanade was the one to turn to Nagisa. "Yuri went through a divorce back in October," she said, keeping her tone soft but matter-of-fact. "It was very painful, and she drank a potion so she could forget about him, but bringing the Battlefront back together forced her and Naoi to reunite. Since then, things have been very complicated between them."
"That's right, I remember hearing about the divorce a while back." Although somehow unfazed by the potion part, Nagisa's eyes grew sad and sympathetic as they passed over Kanade to Yuri. "Ryou mentioned it was a difficult time for you. And now to see someone you used to love so much, and yet feel so much distance…" She sniffled a bit. "No wonder you can't even bear to hear his name. It must be so hard..."
Yuri sucked in her cheeks. She liked Nagisa well enough, but had tuned out in mild alarm at the first sign of tears.
So Kanade had just told Nagisa the whole story without hesitation, no surprise there. It was her usual winsome honesty, saying things without thinking, and more often than not Yuri found it earnest and endearing rather than tactless.
In this case, though, the former angel's heedless nature reminded her of someone else. The thought struck her just now. She looked at her best friend in quiet appraisal, with a melancholy reminiscent sort of wonder.
But then, her manner was more of an absent and wholesome sincerity. Not careless or insensitive or impulsive, like…
"—been very upset lately," Kanade was saying.
"And it's probably even harder considering she's still in love with him," Yui agreed.
Yuri snapped back to attention, tuning all the way back in as her mouth dropped open in astonishment.
"What?!" she shrieked. "No, I'm not!"
Geez, speaking of careless and impulsive!
Kanade looked at her (actually a lot of people were looking at her now, which was embarrassing), a patient but perceptive expression on her face that had come to stress her out as of late. "But what about the—"
"I told—!" Yuri started to yell, but glanced at Ushio and caught herself in mid-shriek. She didn't want to hurt the girl's ears or make any kind of scene. Surreptitiously, she lowered her voice to a sharp whisper. "I told you it wasn't that deep."
"Wait, what's not that deep?" Kyou asked, leaning forward conspiratorially like she fully intended to be kept up to speed on all the juicy gossip.
Yui motioned to the purse wedged between Kanade and Yuri's chairs. "Oh, she has—"
"Oh wow, is that Sekine?" Yuri cut in, pointing over Yui's shoulder.
Squeaking excitedly, Yui spun around in one swift motion and poked her head around the wall again, checking left and right. It took her about ten seconds to realize she'd been had, and she pivoted on her heel with a whine and accusatory finger point.
"That was a mean trick, Yurippe!" she pouted.
Wow, she called her Yurippe instead of Commander. Obviously she meant business.
"It's just a reminder that you're supposed to be looking for someone," Yuri said, crossing her arms at her. "I agreed to a Girls Day. Not a love intervention."
Not that she hadn't known going in that there was a risk of it turning out like this. Maybe part of it was the allure of getting away from the guys – or, one guy in particular. But today he'd already been doing a pretty good job of avoiding her himself. Hell, he was straight up ignoring her. And that—
Well. That was what she'd wanted, right? For him to leave her alone? Because how was she supposed to... if he kept…
But he probably wouldn't, anymore. Whether from boredom or offense, she could tell that he'd closed some kind of door between them.
Or maybe she'd done it herself.
Preview:
"What kind of weak pitch—?!"
"It looked like there was some pain in your swing."
"Some people deserve to be alone."
"I thought we never should have met."
"I wasn't talking about me!"
"How hard is it to tell a person you love them?"
"You just love them differently."
"Isn't she worth it to try?"
[Chapter 50]: Something to Believe In (Part I).
