Author's Notes: Hello all, and welcome to another update. And presented to you in a little over three weeks from the last one! Progress! Capital!
I think this is my longest chapter to date, and completely different from the direction I had in mind. My prestigious editor, Enact, talked me into taking things in this direction, so the mistakes are mostly mine, and credit goes to us both, but he definitely gets the lion's share this time, for polish and suggestions and critiques.
There's another selective term in the text. Omu-rice is a Japanese meal that is basically an egg omelette containing rice, seasonings, sauce, etc. Kinda self-explanatory, mixing the terms 'omelette' and 'rice', so, yeah. Tasty stuff.
And, as always, huge thanks to my readers. You guys are a big reason why I keep going, and the faves and follows are always encouraging, as are the reviews and PM commentary. So thank you, to each and every one of you for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it. And the usual self-promotion applies – if you like what you see here, found a place where I made a mistake, or just feel like giving feedback and sharing your thoughts, don't hesitate to leave a review or drop me a line.
Chapter 18
After weeks of rain and choking humidity, seeing the sun and the sky was a welcome change in Kofu. School classes felt less like an obligation and more like something the students just didn't want to attend. Souji, on the other hand, took the clear weather with gusto and promptly spent his first rain-free evenings sleeping once his homework was done. He'd wanted to put the episode at the hospital, and the breakdown that had led up to it, as far from his mind as quickly as he could, and by the time he'd gotten his anniversary call from Yukiko, he was almost back to his normal self.
That didn't change the fact that today felt odd. Not in a good way, not in a bad way, not in a way he could identify, but something felt strange in the air when he woke up. And, for it staying in the back of his mind and being easy enough to ignore when his classes required it, it was irritatingly consistent. It wasn't his clothes, despite wearing a light grey summer shirt that almost matched his hair colour instead of his usual white under his school uniform. It wasn't school, since he'd coasted through the half-day without a problem. And it wasn't the people around him: Yuhara had been absent of late, and Yoshiro and Megumi were at practice and attending to family matters, respectively.
By the time classes were over, it was still nagging at him. And dismissing it out of hand was becoming impossible, because it reminded him of particular days in Inaba that had grown to be particularly memorable, like when they'd visited Tatsumi Port Island and hit up Club Escapade. Or when he was helping with the Yasogami Culture Festival, before he knew he'd been volunteered for the cross-dressing contest. He tried to brush it off, however, as best he could. Just because he'd had odd feelings before didn't mean anything was going to happen. He'd managed to convince himself of that by the time he reached the school gates, then stopped when his cell phone went off. He looked down and frowned to himself – who was texting him?
It was strange. The first legs of her trip had gone so smoothly that she barely remembered them. Making plans with Chie to pick up her homework for the half-day she'd be absent, asking Dojima-san where Souji lived, confirming the address she received and buying the train tickets, and fast-talking her parents so she could slip away from Inaba on her own for a few days had been easy. Or easy enough that she didn't remember any complications. But the last thirty kilometres, since she heard they were approaching Kofu, seemed to drag along. Earlier that morning she would have attributed it to seeing Souji again, and that was still largely true. But now she also wanted to get off the train so she could stretch her legs – her only break from the sitting or reclining had been a layover in Kyoto that had lasted less than half an hour. She turned to the window again and caught her own reflection, and glanced over her attire for the day. Eschewing her usual black short-sleeved sweater, she chose a grey summer shirt and a sleeveless pullover and summer scarf, both in her usual red. Her barrette had gone on out of habit, and she'd donned a padded, sensible pair of black flats. If they had the time, she wanted to see more of Kofu, and Souji was bound to know a few interesting places.
The train finally pulled into the station and she wordlessly stepped into the aisle, got her bags, and slipped off the train into the Saturday crowds of Kofu's train station. She pushed her way to the edge of the platform for a little room and slipped her phone out to see if Rise had returned her texts – she knew she wouldn't be able to find her way around Kofu as well without some help. The newest message said 'Look to the right :D', and when she did she saw her friend waving happily and making her way over.
"Welcome to Kofu, Yukiko-senpai!" Rise told her with a quick hug, bypassing the usual bow that Yukiko was about to give. The older girl was a little surprised by the act, but instinctively returned it. "It's wonderful to see you again!"
"You too, Rise-chan. You've been well?"
Rise broke off the hug and stepped back a few paces, nodding happily. "Yep, great as always."
"Thank you so much for meeting me." Yukiko told the starlet, trying to stretch the lethargy of a train ride across the country out of her limbs. "I hope this doesn't interrupt anything you had planned already."
Rise brushed it off, picking up Yukiko's other bag and walking them toward the train platform exit. "Nothing that can't wait. I mean, I'll be busy in a few weeks, and Inoue hasn't been off the phone in days, but I can take the time to see a friend, no problem."
Yukiko bowed a little at her words. "Thank you. How have you been since Inaba?"
"Great!" Rise gushed. "Kofu's got a different feel to it than Tokyo, still the same crowds and fans, but a lot less business people and corporations everyone, you know? It's easier working here, the people are great, and even the concert venues are pretty big. And of course Senpai's here to help me out when I need it!"
Yukiko went quiet as they left the train station and found a table and set of chairs to sit at while Rise popped open her cell phone with a quick "excuse me" and started stabbing at buttons. There was never any doubt in Yukiko's mind about Souji's relationship with Rise; he'd made it clear that they were friends. And he'd said that Rise had helped him pick out the anniversary gift he'd sent (packed away in her luggage – she'd made sure to bring them), so it only made sense that Rise's feelings for him were platonic. But it was hard to tell sometimes…
Rise looked up and seemed to pick up on her expression. Or perhaps had been expecting the subject to come up, because she shook her head once she was done sending whatever message she'd composed. "It's not like that, Yukiko-senpai. Senpai's a great support and a one-of-a-kind friend, but that's all we are." There was no hesitation in her voice. "You and him belong together, and I'm not going to get in the way of that."
That was a relief. And yet Yukiko hadn't expected Rise to be so candid on the matter. "I thought you cared for him? Back in Inaba, you seemed very attached to him."
Rise chuckled and looked away with a wistful smile, thoughtful and perhaps a little sad, but content. "I think we all were, in our own way. Senpai's a real catch, you know? Smart and handsome and a great listener, and he always helped us, no matter what." She shook her head. "But he chose you, and I'm alright with that. You two deserve each other."
Yukiko smiled and nodded in response, a little touched by Rise's words and glad to have the matter clear between them. "Thank you for that, then. For your honesty."
Rise's smile was happier and brighter than before, back to its usual 30,000 watts. "Sure. I know I came on strong before, but we're just friends. And the same goes for you and me, right?"
"Of course." Yukiko stifled a yawn and stretched her arms in front of her before looking at Rise again. "You've been with him often since you came here?"
"Yep! Good times and a few bad ones, but it's good to be around people you know and trust."
"How is he?"
Rise shrugged and shook her head. "I'm not sure. He talked about his family a while ago and said things were sticky, but he never really got into the details. Aside from that, Senpai's just like he always was. And he still doesn't talk about himself much, you know?"
"We've been discussing his family over the last few days," Yukiko offered a little hesitantly. "It seems to be a sore spot for him. And even Dojima-san and Nanako-chan can't offer much information on the matter."
"Sometimes it seems like he's so used to helping us with our problems that he doesn't take time to deal with his own," Rise suggested. "But who knows? Senpai's a mystery in that sense. Is that why you're here though? To talk to his parents?"
"No," was Yukiko's immediate response. "We argued over some things that he feels he needs to keep to himself, and I wanted to get a clearer answer from him. So here I am. But I wouldn't talk to his parents without talking to him first – he'd never trust me again if I did, especially with it being such a sensitive issue for him."
"So you came all this way to talk to him face to face?" Rise looked at her a little oddly.
Yukiko nodded firmly. "Of course. We can't make a relationship work if we don't talk to each other, can we?"
Rise stared at her for a moment, then started giggling to herself. "That's actually kinda romantic, Yukiko-senpai."
That caught Yukiko a little off guard, but she smiled to herself anyway. "You think so?"
Rise nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. Normally when the guy's moody, he'll either take it out on someone and cause problems, or just keep it bottled up. And here you are to help Senpai. That's gutsy and pretty impressive."
"You don't think it's a little, well, pushy?" Yukiko ventured.
"Nope," Rise replied cheerily. "Well, sorta. Some guys might not like the attention, might see it as interference, but so what? You're part of this relationship too, like you said, so of course you should act on what you feel, right?" It did make sense, when Rise put it that way. "And besides," the starlet added with a conspiratorial smile, "it's not like we're normal people, after everything we've gone through. So we can bend the rules a little. And who cares about being 'normal' anyway?" Yukiko smiled her agreement, and Rise suddenly looked over her senpai's shoulder and grinned. "Took him long enough," she told her friend before standing up.
Took who long enough? "What do you mean?"
Rise winked mischievously. "Your guy, of course. Hey, Senpai! Hey!"
Yukiko pulled back, a little surprised but turned to meet the approaching, shocked eyes of Seta Souji.
And he seemed as surprised by her being there as she was to see him appear as if from out of nowhere. "This is why you texted me, Rise?"
"Yep! I didn't know if Yukiko-senpai had made arrangements yet, so I thought ahead a little." She winked once, then grabbed her own bags and stepped back from the table. "Well, my work's done, so have fun you two!"
She disappeared into the crowd. Or maybe Yukiko just stopped paying attention, but she trembled a little at being this close to her boyfriend. She was always a mess when he was near her. Shivers and trembles, running hot and cold, and a rich happiness singing in her marrow. She wanted to rush up and hug him, but also stay there and watch him, near-perfect in grey and black, for as long as she could. And it seemed like he wasn't immune to her presence either – he hadn't moved since Rise left, and just watched her and no one else.
He was the one to break the moment, however. "I'm glad to see you," he began slowly, picking his words carefully and looking flabbergasted. "But I would have met you here if I'd known you were coming."
He was even cuter when he was flustered. Maybe she could play that up? "I know," she answered softly, rising to her feet and taking a few steps forward while keeping her expression as calm as she could. "It was sort of a last-minute decision."
"I see. So, what inspired this decision?"
It came to her in an instant, and she couldn't help it. He looked off-balance just seeing her, and she felt like it was something he'd do. It was just too good an opportunity. She choked backed her reactions to his proximity, stepped up to him and cocked her head to one side, working to keep her face straight. "I thought this would be a good time keep my promise."
It gave him a place to start, at least. Something to respond to, and it showed when his face relaxed a little. "Which promise is that?"
"Back in Inaba, when you were getting ready to leave, I said that I was coming with you. Remember?"
He looked unsure for a moment, then his eyes slowly widened in horrified realization. And his normally pale complexion went more white than she'd ever seen it before. Holding her face steady became monumentally difficult, but she managed. "You… you said you were kidding about that," he replied finally.
She nodded soberly and looked up at him expectantly. "And I was kidding when I said that."
He looked immediately perplexed, like he was suddenly asked the square root of 51,397. She could see his mind working furiously, trying to come to terms with her presence and putting together an answer, but in the end, all he said was "Oh. I see."
Her restraint snapped. She doubled over and burst out laughing, one arm across her stomach and the other hand raised to her mouth to try and hold back her mirth. She tried to pull herself together, but when she looked up and saw him, still puzzled and without any idea of what to say, she laughed even harder. "Y-you should… see… your face!" she told him between laughs and gasps.
She was too busy laughing to see him, but after a few moments she felt him move closer and gently prop her up. His arms surrounded her, one supporting her shoulder and the other wrapping around to lightly stroke her back. She reined herself in enough to hear him say "You're such a brat," under his breath, a wry smile meeting her as she looked up and sending her into giggles again. "It wasn't that funny."
"Sure it was!" she protested through her mirth.
He stared at her, a little bemused, before losing his tense looks and chuckling along with her. "That was a good one though. Excellently delivered, and you really had me going."
"I learned from the best," she replied, finally coming under control but with a lively grin on her face. Souji shook his head and held his hands out to take her bags. "You don't have to do that." He didn't answer, just crooked his fingers a few times, and she handed over one of the two she'd brought with her.
"Are you going to be in town long?" he inquired, shouldering her effects along with his own book bag.
"Until tomorrow afternoon. I thought we could spend some time together."
He nodded with a smile, matching her own. "That sounds great. In that case, we deserve a little more than a reunion at the train station," he told her, and nodded down one street. "I can think of a more comfortable place than this. Come on." And without another word, he led her on to the crowded sidewalk.
"Where are we going?" she inquired as she matched him stride for stride.
He chuckled and tossed her a sideways glance. "That would be telling, and I can have a few surprises as well, no?"
She met his gaze with a small but honest smile of her own. "Fair enough. I trust your judgment."
They made small talk, both deliberately avoiding the obvious question about why Yukiko was there, as they made their way to Souji's surprise. And it was a fair way from the train station – Yukiko looked at her watch when he told her "Just around the corner," and was surprised to see that they'd killed more than half an hour already. But that thought passed when she saw the sign ahead, their destination coming into view.
"Well?" Souji asked, smiling. "How's this?" Kofu Central Aquarium. The crowds were light given the time of day, but there were still groups to be seen, chatting or eating or pointing at the various pools and exhibits.
It had been years since she'd been to an aquarium, and the trips she'd taken to the beach in recent years hadn't been to see the aquatic flora and fauna. "Yes," she replied with an anticipatory smile. "Yes, this will be fun."
He insisted on paying the entrance fee for both of them, by virtue of getting his wallet out faster than she did hers, and they went to the first exhibit, a large pool with dolphins circling with their trainers and a tiered seating area across from them. She became fascinated with the fish, admiring their grace and smooth movements. She heard Souji rustling around next to her after a few minutes, but didn't think of it until he rested against the railing next to her and reached over, slipping his right hand into her left. But what surprised her, broke her interest in the fish, was that he'd laced his fingers with hers, meeting her palm to palm, and she never felt any leather. A glance down confirmed what her skin told her – he'd pocketed his gloves for her, his left hand curled in a loose fist and held close to his torso. She realized then how much she'd missed the touch of his skin. "Thank you," she whispered, genuinely touched by the gesture. He smiled and nodded, but said nothing.
They took their time as they made their way through the various different exhibits, hand in hand and stopping to discuss what they knew from their educations about marine life. And, to the surprise of neither, their knowledge was almost completely matched on the topic. From manta rays and starfish to coral formations and the uses of kelp, whale migratory patterns to depth and pressure preferences of aquatic life, they explored whatever information was presented to them on the tablets at each display. They had just passed the stream system where the oldest koi in the city were housed when he asked if she was hungry. She nodded, and they made their way to the food vendors and chatted idly as they waited in line.
"Udon?" he offered when it was their turn. The menu was broad though still selective. She didn't see many meat dishes to choose from, and that made sense – one didn't want to promote eating animals in an aquarium, after all.
She nodded, a smile that bordered on impish turning her lips up. "Yes, and this time keep your appetite to yourself."
He looked puzzled for only a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. "Still won't let me live that down huh?"
"It was some very good fried tofu," she replied, taking the offered dish. He took a bowl of ramen and paid for them both, and they sat on a nearby bench to enjoy their lunch. Yukiko savoured her dish, tasty and filling after her train ride, but not so much that she'd be full for dinner. She still hadn't brought up the matter of lodging, but that could wait a little longer. She glanced over at Souji, noticing how much he was enjoying the ramen he'd chosen, and also noticing the hard-boiled egg that was sitting innocently at the bottom of his bowl.
It was out of character, but she was thriving on the environment. Seeing Souji, being in Kofu and away from home, even for a short time, and soaking in the surroundings of the aquarium from the people to the fish was loosening her up. She felt free, impulsive, and just a little naughty, and thus didn't bother stopping herself – she slipped her chopsticks past his, snared his egg, and plopped it in her mouth before he could stop her.
She couldn't help chuckling around her hard-won bounty, and he went from surprised to calculating in a heartbeat. He smiled back, but his eyes narrowed and she felt like the only thing saving her from retribution was that he was still holding a bowl half filled with noodles and hot broth. "You," he growled through his bland smirk, "are such a brat."
"That makes us even, right?" She looked up at him innocently, and it didn't change his expression in the least.
"For now," he promised quietly. "Give it time though."
She liked the dark light glinting in his eyes – it sent a shiver through her that was anything but unwelcome. "Promise?"
"Very much so."
She couldn't think of a witty repartee, so she turned back to her own food, smiling to herself when she noticed he was watching her chopsticks and his own food much more closely. But the rest of their lunch passed uneventfully, and they disposed of the bowls before going into the underground tunnels and viewing the massive aquarium displays.
"It's beautiful," she breathed, leaning against the railing watching the schools of brightly-coloured koi and jikin and ranchu flit and flutter by, the gliding of the manta rays and slow-yet-graceful lumbering of the whale sharks. And while she stood transfixed, Souji had shuffled over and wrapped an arm around her back, resting his hand on her waist. When she first met him, she might have been embarrassed about such a display of affection in a public place. This time, she just scooted closer and leaned against him, letting out a small sigh of comfort and happiness.
"I envy them sometimes," he told her idly, like he was somewhere else. The illuminated tank and diffused light in the water cast across his face and caught in his eyes. It gave his features and hair an unusual, almost otherworldly glow. Different from when he summoned his Personas in the TV world. This was calmer, more tranquil and at peace, and it washed over her slowly like fatigue. For a moment, she wanted to close her eyes and sleep against him. "Life seems so much simpler for them," he continued, heedless of her. "And the simplicity doesn't take away from their beauty."
She doubted he was only talking about the fish, and shook off her reverie. "Complex things have their beauty as well," Yukiko remarked. "Especially with the right people and in the right places."
She expected him to continue on that line of thought, but he went silent, absorbed in the fish. "What did you come here for?" he asked finally, cocking his head curiously and looking at her sideways. "I would have made plans if I knew you were coming. Not that I mind the surprise, but still."
She sighed and squared her shoulders, still leaning over the railing. She was having a wonderful time and didn't want it to end, but this was why she'd come across the country. And they had to face the bad times as they came. Or at least learn to deal with them, and now was as good a time as any. "I wanted to discuss what we talked about on the phone last time," she told him finally. "Without any interruptions. I want to know what's going on."
Souji sighed and pulled back a little. Yukiko missed the contact and felt the mood die away, but couldn't help it – they had to work this out. "You mean about my parents," he supplied unnecessarily. "Why do you want to know this badly? I'm not trying to be rude, but it's more my business than it is yours. And it's not that important in the long run."
"You don't talk about it. About them. I'm curious." She kept that she'd talked to Dojima-san and Nanako-chan to herself. At least for now.
"There's nothing to say that I haven't said already. They're workaholics who live their own lives, and I'm busy living mine. We used to work," he paused, seeming to search for the right word, "…passably well together, before I came to Inaba. And now we tolerate each other enough that we leave each other alone."
"It didn't sound like that on the phone," Yukiko pointed out. "You seemed to be arguing with your father." He didn't answer, but his expression soured. "So what about them? What are they like? Give me some details."
"You can't let it go with what I've told you already?" His tone was beginning to deepen, darken with an angry undercurrent.
She didn't let it intimidate her. "I don't know anything about them," she protested quietly, aware of the people around them. "You give me facts without context. You say they aren't important or significant to you, but I don't know why you say that." She turned to him, trying not to come across as needy, but asking with her eyes as much as her words. "Help me understand what's going on."
He looked at her, stoic and stone-faced in the face of her pleas, for a few long moments before he grunted "Come on, let's go," to her and started walking for the exit.
Her softness died under the rampage of her anger, rushing up at his words. She felt the hot taste of fury in her mouth, watching him walk away again without the courtesy of answering her question, or even addressing the matter as a whole. "Don't brush me off," she growled lowly as she followed right behind him.
"I'm not," he shot back shortly. "But there are better places for this discussion." They made their way out of the aquarium, turned the corner at the street and entered a small park. He navigated their way through the people and pointed at a park bench off the main paths, and they headed toward it silently. No holding hands, no cuddling as they walked. Both were treating the matter seriously, and she worked to keep an open mind on the subject. He sat on one side and she perched on the other, looking at him expectantly and holding her anger in reserve for now. "My father's a corporate climber," he told her simply. "Always has been. For as long as I can remember, he's lived for his work. And I don't mean that he just puts in long hours and is otherwise a well-rounded and sociable person. I mean he saves all his sociability, all his energy and time for work but puts deadlines aside for his family. I mean that we've never really had a heart-to-heart discussion about anything before, because all he understands is corporate politics. My mother's the same way. All they can talk about is work. And if it isn't work, then it's my grades, or which university I've applied for and who they might know who can help me get there. I'm not trying to sound selfish, but they've never taken time out of their lives for me, or even each other. No vacations that weren't business-related, no time off for anniversaries, nothing."
"People aren't that one-dimensional," she told him quietly. "You and I know that. We've seen it."
"We saw the struggles of people who knew there was something wrong," Souji countered as calmly as he could. "Chie, Yosuke, Rise, all of them were conflicted at the core and didn't know how to handle it. And it's understandable – they had some things that needed to come out into the open. My parents aren't like that. At all. There's no problem with them, no conflict because they don't see anything wrong with how things are. I spent my first weeks here without ever having a discussion with them about how things were in Inaba."
"That doesn't bother you?"
"No." He said it calmly, without raising his voice, but with a finality that was hard for her to accept. "They have their lives, I have mine. And nary the two shall meet."
She couldn't help herself. He sounded jaded but accepting. He seemed to believe that things weren't going to get better, and yet he was alright with it. She wouldn't say it, but he sounded exactly like what he'd just described – distant from his family and not feeling conflicted about it. His views couldn't be that simple, that final. "You don't want to mend things? They're your parents."
"And I'm their son," he shot back, folding his hands, gloved again during their walk from the aquarium, in front of him. "That didn't stop them." He sighed, looking a little frustrated, though whether it was at her persistence or the topic itself, she couldn't tell. "It's not a simple situation, Yukiko. I spent my childhood on the move, going from one city to the next because of someone's work. Making friends was hard, putting down roots was pointless, and every time I tried to connect with them, I was brushed off or put to the side so someone could put in more hours at the office. All I ever got for my efforts was more encouragement to keep my grades up. They weren't parents – they just paid the bills. And there's nothing I can do about that."
"Is it really that bad?"
He shook his head and sent an unusually grim stare at her. "It's bad enough that I don't want to think about it more than I absolutely have to. It's not worth it." He cocked his head to the side, looking grimly serious but inquisitive now. "But what about you? Why did you come here? I don't want you involved with my parents; it's enough of a mess as it is."
She stared back at him, never budging. "Because we're together now, and that means us working through problems together, no matter what they are. If you don't want me to meet them, then I won't. I came here for you, to help you, and I'll respect that. But you can't keep doing this alone."
For several long moments, the world fell away and they saw only each other. Not the city, not the city or the people around them, but the spirit and steel defiance in the person they cared for the most.
Souji broke contact first and sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. "Seems we have some work to do. But enough of that for now. Have you got a place to stay?"
"Are there any hotels nearby?"
Souji looked at her with a mix of disbelief and borderline frustration. "You're serious? I thought you would've talked to Rise about that; she'd probably love to have you over."
Yukiko shook her head. "Rise said she would be going on tour soon, so she'll be busy. And I don't know where she lives." Souji stared at her. Then the edges of his eyes crinkled and his gaze became a little bit distant. "I brought my own money," she told him finally. "I can look after myself if you're busy. We can continue this tomorrow."
He didn't respond right away, but finally heaved a heavy sigh. "This is a bad idea," he said more to himself than to her before leaning down to grab his book bag. "Come on, let's go." He started down the path, back the way they came.
Yukiko was startled for a moment at his sudden shift in demeanour, but grabbed her own effects and followed him, asking "Where are we going?" when she caught up.
"There's no sense in you wasting money on hotels around here," he replied with the expression of a chunk of rock. "Besides, I don't know of very many that have a good reputation. So you may as well stay at my place for the night."
That caught her off guard, enough that she chose her next words more carefully. "Why? I thought you didn't want me meeting your parents."
"I don't," he responded shortly. "But my father's in the U.S., and my mother's been putting in longer hours than usual at work. It's just for one night, so hopefully nothing goes sideways."
"And if she does come home?"
He slowed down for a moment, then shrugged. "Then we deal with it as it comes."
"If you're worried that it might be a problem…" she began.
"I'm not," he replied immediately, stopping and turning to face her. "I'm glad you're here, Yukiko. Honestly. Whatever inconveniences that might crop up are small matters compared to that. Besides, my house isn't much, but I can at least offer you a clean futon and a decent meal."
She let his words sink in, then nodded. "Thank you."
"That's what guys do for their girlfriends, isn't it?" he asked with a shrug. Neither answered the question since neither actually knew, but they turned back down the road and made small talk until they reached his apartment complex. Souji opened the door first to check the landing pad for shoes, then stepped in and held the door open for her. Once she was in, he untied and shucked his shoes, donned his house slippers and muttered "I'm home" to the empty residence. Yukiko, operating on manners ingrained into her since before she could remember, told him "sorry for intruding" with a short bow before stepping in and removing her shoes. Souji hung up his jacket and book bag before turning to smile at the formality and pass her a set of house slippers. Then he snapped on the lights. "Well, it's not much, but welcome to the Seta residence."
She looked around as she put on the slippers, and took in where he lived for the first time. The sight that greeted her put her on her guard.
It wasn't that the apartment was sterile or devoid of personality. A small couch and nearby table were paired with a large reading lamp and several holders full of books, pens and pencils and coloured sticky notes for marking one's place carefully set in place nearby. The kitchen was clean and had all the markings of regular use, from the cook books and paper notes stuffed into another book holder next to the fridge to the worn knife handles on the block on the counter to the western-style slow cooker that had filled the house with a delicious aroma. A couch and table near the TV were home to a scattering of paper and folders and pens, some with exploded tips, some still in clear plastic wrap, some left where their user had dropped them. She could see a hallway, presumably leading to the bedrooms, a balcony behind a set of sliding doors, and another couch and table facing the TV from a different angle, and that set looked immaculate. She had to wonder if it was because Souji's parents were selectively tidy, or if that couch and table had just never been used.
What set her off of the abode was how segmented things felt. Souji's touch was evident as soon as she walked through the door, but only around one of the couches and in the kitchen: there was no crossover. She couldn't see any influence of his parents on his part of the dwelling, and vise-versa. There were no framed photos on the walls or the tables where she assumed his parents worked. No potted plants or CD racks to show any personal taste. Even the calendar hanging in the kitchen, an apparent middle ground in the home, was sporadically filled. One week was so filled with writing that she had to wonder if the writer was planning their week or using it as a notepad, and the rest was untouched. The whole place felt like she was watching three separate Petri dishes on the same table in science class, so much so that even the lights seemed sterile, lighting the rooms and casting sharp, clean shadows. There was no softness to the place. There was none of the warmth and welcoming vibe she knew so well from Souji. Nor did the home feel critical and inquisitive, like she was an intruder or an unwelcome guest to be watched. It was just a place to rest before moving on. No personal touches, no invested work, and it felt miles from what she expected her boyfriend's home to be like, regardless of what he'd told her about his family at the time.
She thought she understood what his family was like. Seeing their house, the place where they were supposed to be able to take the masks off, so barren of intimacy made her realize how off the mark she'd been.
"How long have you lived here?" she asked without noticing.
"Since April," he told her calmly, turning to check on dinner. It looked like some sort of vegetable stew. "My parents got here before I did, but I don't know how long."
"You said they were overseas when you were in Inaba?"
He nodded before adding some salt and a few other spices. A pinch of this, a dash of that. She admired how he seemed to know what he was doing without needing measuring spoons or directions. "In the United States. I don't know where they stayed while there." He pulled back from the slow-cooker for a moment before giving a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's hard to even remember where we lived before then. Everything's a blur now." He gave a shrug, talking more to himself than to her now. "Not sure if it would have mattered though; it all feels the same."
"I… I see. I'm not sure what to say," she told him finally, moving beyond the landing and sinking into his couch, shuffling to get comfortable and unable to resist looking at the weathered spines of the books before her.
He was quiet for a few minutes while he checked dinner and made a few adjustments. "There's not much anyone can say. It's not that it was terrible," he clarified finally. "It's more that it just… was. My parents have always been working, and that work is central to their lives." He nodded toward the living room, and, more specifically, the TV. "I don't think I've ever seen or heard them watch a movie before, alone or together. News and stock reports, business channels, weather forecasts, traffic, that sort of thing." He chuckled, a drab, humourless sound that sank into the grey walls around them. "I don't even know if we have subscriptions for the movie channels."
"Where does the distance come from?" she asked finally, meeting his eyes. "Nanako-chan and Dojima-san were distant, but nothing like this. Why are you and your parents…" Her words failed her, and she just looked at Souji to communicate the rest.
He gave a dry smirk, but came out of the kitchen and sat next to her, adjusting to the give of the cushions far easier than she had. "Much as I might make it sound, I don't want you to think that my parents are bad people. Not in the classical sense. I've never been hit or starved, ever. It's just that they have different priorities from Dojima and Nanako. And, for that matter, you and your parents. You might get angry and disagree with your parents, might have fights and not talk to each other, but that doesn't change the fact that if you need them, your family will drop everything to help. My parents…" He grunted and looked away from her; the set of his eyes told her he was remembering something. And it wasn't a happy memory. "Or at least my father, need overarching circumstances to put work aside for me. I can't really speak for my mother because I've never really needed her in that respect."
"That's horrible."
He sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "No, that's just how they are. Like I said, they have different priorities. My parents live for their careers, so that's what they want, where they want to go." He gave a sarcastic smirk. "I'm not even sure that they wanted children, so neither really worked me into their schedules. They're just not family-oriented. And Dojima's said that my mother used to sing for me when I was younger. So I guess they tried. It just didn't last."
Perhaps that's where he got his musical talent from. "Did she sing to you?" Yukiko asked.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I can remember someone singing something, but I don't know the song, or if it was even my mother, for that matter." Souji shook his head. "But none of that changes the fact that the word 'family' means something very different for me than it does for you and the others."
She didn't say anything. What could she say? There weren't words for a situation this alien, this strange to her. "I see," was her eventual response.
All she got was a shake of his head and a chuckle. "No, you don't. Not at the core, and I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just not something that I can explain. And there's no point in showing you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's transitory," he told her, turning to look her in the eye. "In a few months I'll be done with high school, and I'll be back in Inaba. I'll do my studying there, find a way to write the entrance exams, and then I'll be off to university. And my parents won't matter by then." He was serious; she could see it in his eyes. No anger or bitterness. Just cold, lifeless fact.
Part of her wanted to argue that it did matter, that he couldn't just leave his life behind. But the other parts of her, the parts that had seen where he was from, were beginning to understand, finally, just how little it would help. He was determined to cut away from his past and live his own life. And she didn't know if she could call it running; it seemed more like he'd accepted his upbringing and childhood, already made his peace and come to terms with how things were, and was simply moving beyond it. "I'll be glad to see you back home then," she told him, letting the subject shift.
He smiled, a gleam of genuine light in the artificiality of his home. "Me too. But dinner's ready. You can tell me what's going on there."
And so, over a savoury vegetable stew with vinaigrette sauce, warm dipping bread and Souji's hand-mixed virgin (it never occurred to her precisely why he hadn't used alcohol – they were alone, after all) fruit cocktails, she told him what had been happening in Inaba in his absence. He chuckled when she told him about Kanji and Naoto, explaining his advice session with her childhood friend and how he was glad Kanji was at least trying. He grew silent when she talked about Nanako, but gave a heartfelt laugh when she mentioned how she'd apparently become his cousin's 'Big Sis'. He asked how Yosuke and Chie and Teddie were doing. Then the topic shifted to her own work, and he listened closely as she explained the goings on of the Inn, how she'd felt more in tune with the people around her, how her parents were slowly letting her take on more and more responsibility, how capable it made her feel when she handled their tasks with grace. She started to think he was just humouring her, sitting there and listening, but his comments were always on the mark, and she realized he was enjoying every minute of their discussions.
She turned the subject back to him, and scooped up a second bowl of the stew (a rarity for her – she usually only had one plate of anything at home) while he talked about his studies and classes, told her about Rise's time in Kofu and recent sold-out concerts. He described his two friends, Takenaka Megumi and Toyama Yoshiro, to her briefly, but went into much more detail when she told him it was the first time she'd ever heard those names. "I'm sure I mentioned them before," he said with a thoughtful frown.
"Not that I can remember," was her reply. He described them both, how they'd met and established an easy friendship. How they'd stuck with him despite his reticence about his past. And how Megumi had given him the advice that had led to the note that had accompanied her earrings (still in her travel bags. She'd have to bring them up when she had the chance).
And by the time he was done his own stories, she'd put away more food than she thought she could. It was even better than his creations during his visit to Inaba, and he chuckled when she told him as much. "I'll give you some pointers when I come back," he promised. "Can't have you going to university without being able to at least cook for yourself."
Her body was still humming on the buzz of his food and drinks, so she took his comments well. "You don't mind?"
"Of course not. We'll make a day of it."
She was enjoying their time together too much to reply with words. Instead she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, and the resulting smile from them both said everything they needed to.
"Let's take this elsewhere," he told her after their conversation topics were exhausted. He took their bowls and cutlery to the kitchen and washed them before putting them away, "hiding the evidence" as he'd told her, then took her and her bags, an arm around her waist and her leaning against him as they went, down the hallway to his room. They were so into each other's company that neither noticed that Yukiko's shoes had been left by the door.
His Kofu room was remarkably similar to the one in Inaba, from what she could remember. Admittedly, the times she had spent time in his room with him, her mind had been on other things. There was a clear space in the corner for a futon, a desk covered in books and writing utensils, much the same as the couch and table before. A low reading table and couch, a chest of drawers and a closet on the other side of the room. And yet it too lacked the sense of belonging that she hadn't noticed his Inaba room possessing. Everything here felt temporary, like he was waiting for the right moment to leave it all behind.
Her introspection had left her near the door while he pulled his futon and quilts out and set them up by the wall. She placed her bags on the other side of the door and helped him as much as she could before turning and sitting on it against the wall, right next to him as he rested back as well. They didn't say anything, but just shuffled next to each other and let the night noise of Kofu surround them, draining out the tension. Yukiko fell into a daze, a state of partial sleep where her thoughts drifted and all she felt was the solid, warm weight next to her. It didn't seem like anything could reach them there.
"I'm home."
The voice was muffled by the door and the distance, but still audible and distinctly feminine. They both stiffened in surprise, Yukiko coming out of her daze while Souji let the mix of a growl and a groan rumble in his chest. He pulled his arm from around her and stood up, making his way to the door before turning and holding up his forefinger. Just a minute. She nodded, and he slid his door open, stepping into the dark hallway.
He should have been angry. Despite the turbulence of the day, everything was going well with Yukiko. The night had finally gotten quiet, the mood reminding of their shared Christmas evening in Inaba, and he was about to bring up where they were sleeping. And then his mother, against the odds, had come home, and he was reminded of just how large the divide between his family and his life in Inaba really was. It wasn't pleasant. And yet he wasn't angry – if anything, there was a cold slither of fear running through him, a fear of what his two worlds colliding might result in. Yukiko could handle it, and of the two parents who could have been there, his mother was by far the less objectionable choice. But that didn't stop the day's events from being blown from his mind, leaving an icy, grim void behind.
"You're home late," Souji remarked as he padded silently down the hallway, meeting his mother as he turned the corner to the main room. She was shedding her coat and slipping out of her shoes. Souji's eyes lowered to the landing.
And fell upon Yukiko's shoes. He was stunned for a second, then shivered a little with dread. If she looked down, noticed them…
"Things wrapped up earlier than I expected," Izumi replied, slipping out of her work heels and slipping into house slippers without a second thought, taking him in after turning on the main lights. She hadn't looked down at all, allowing Souji to breathe a little easier. But he looked at the clock in the kitchen and shook his head. Only his parents would call 10:29pm getting away from work 'early'. "And tomorrow should be lax, if nothing else. What about you?"
"I'm fine," he replied smoothly, making an effort to not sound like he was brushing her off.
She paused at the kitchen, looking in at the leftovers of the meal he'd made, and turned back with a pensive look on her face. "You and your father seemed at odds before."
He hadn't told her about their argument at the hospital. Or anything about that day. Nor had she brought it up, so he'd assumed the topic just never came up between them. Just as well – explaining the details behind a panic attack to someone would have been far more difficult when they cared. "Nothing more than usual," he replied. "Just a discussion that went the wrong way."
She cocked her head to one side. "You two argue because you're so alike; I wish you'd work that out."
He had to struggle to keep the cold anger and contempt from his face, and the effort was enormous. Even then, he wasn't sure he succeeded. "I think he'll be busy for the next little while," Souji forced out. "And between his work and the time difference, a family discussion wouldn't work very well."
She stared at him, her expression unreadable. Souji'd seen it before, and was beginning to wonder what she was thinking and why she didn't say what was on her mind. Did she not want to talk about it? Or not have the words? It was unusual for him to be stymied by people who were normally so transparent. "Perhaps. But, it's been a long day, so I'm going to bed."
"Of course," he moved closer to his couch, freeing up the hallway for her. "Good night."
She flexed her feet as she approached and passed him, but stopped to look at him again. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
Better? From what? "Did I seem sick before?"
"Not sick," she clarified with a smile. "More depressed or exhausted. You seemed like you were burning out when it was raining last week, so it's good to see you up and around."
What could he say to that? Was there anything to say? "It's been better the past few days," he offered a little awkwardly. He hadn't expected her to notice his change in mood like that. They never noticed before, or at least never talked about it. "I think it was from the rain, maybe a change in air pressure."
She nodded, understanding in her eyes, though Souji didn't know what, precisely, she understood. "Probably. But I'm glad you're better now. Good night." And she made her way to her room without another word.
Odd conversation. And odder still how close to the mark she was. Souji let out the breath he'd been holding and shook his head, making a point to be more careful around her – it was easy to forget just how observant she could be. He collected Yukiko's shoes and made his way back to his own room, shutting off the lights and letting his eyes adjust before opening the door.
After droning out the constant traffic outside, Yukiko listened to the entire conversation with mixed feelings. So that was Seta Izumi, as Nanako had described her. It was the first time she'd heard his mother speak, and to hear her voice, she seemed like someone Yukiko might want to know better. Souji had said she might have sang to him when he was young, and Yukiko could easily imagine how that voice would sound carrying a tune. And yet his mother seemed distant and distracted, perhaps due to coming home at this hour. Even when she was asking him how he was doing, she'd seemed awkward and clipped. Yukiko tried not to judge someone she'd never met on things she hadn't been witness to, so she shelved that part of her brain, stored the words in her mind for later examination, and instead listened to Souji and his responses. He was restrained, level, and not delving into the conversation more than was necessary. Considering their discussions earlier, that made sense. She waited patiently for him to return after the voices died down, and hoped he wouldn't clam up or let it sour their day together.
She looked at the door when he slipped back in, noticing that his easy smile from the evening had been replaced by a calm, stoic set of the mouth. Not a smirk, not a grimace, just nothing at all. "I was afraid you might start an argument with her," she noted quietly. "Or does she usually come back home this late?"
"It happens. But it's too late for arguments," he replied through a yawn. "Besides, my father's the one I fight the most with. Mother doesn't get under my skin like he does. Anyway, here're your shoes." He held them up before setting them, upside down, beside the door. "Hide the evidence, right?"
"Right." It was strange. Normally she didn't have a problem talking to Souji about anything. After everything they'd seen and fought together, this should have been simple to deal with. And yet the words weren't coming. Perhaps there were no words. Or maybe they'd said them already. Either way, she could feel that the mood had shifted. Not to the point of being confrontational, like they'd been in the park outside the aquarium, but not open and happy either. He felt distant, ad she didn't know if he was keeping her away from him, or himself away from his mother. "I guess we should get some rest," she volunteered finally. "We've both had a long day."
He gave a bleak smile and nodded toward her bags. "Stepping outside won't work this time, so I'll stand over here." He slipped across the room and stood by the window, looking out into the gloom and giving her as much privacy as he could.
She was touched by the gesture, but it still felt strange to change in the same room as a boy, even if he was her boyfriend. Blushing, she stripped out of her clothes and slipped into her t-shirt, shorts and red-and-sakura-design yukata as quickly as she could. She cleared her throat when she was done, and he turned to look at her with a strained smile that she could see and feel even through the dim light from outside. "That colour suits you," he murmured. "I don't know if I mentioned that in Inaba."
"You didn't. So thank you."
He nodded before kicking his slippers off and moving the reading table until the end nearly touched the couch. She looked at him curiously before noticing that the futon, while large enough for someone Souji's size, would have been cramped for both of them, caught between the wall and the desk. She was about to mention it to him when he beat her to the punch. "Get some rest. I'll show you around tomorrow. And we'll have fun this time."
"What about you? Where are you going to sleep?" He nodded to the couch and table, and she realized with a frown what he was planning. It was suited for an extended reading session, but not a night of sleep. There would be no support for him if he slept like that. "You're going to be cramped if you sleep there."
"Don't worry about me," he replied around another yawn. "I haven't been sleeping well lately, so this will be fine."
"This is your house," she objected quietly. "And we shared a futon in Inaba, remember? This won't be any different."
"If my mother weren't home I'd sleep on the couch in the living room," he pointed out. "But I can't do that without raising questions. This is easier. Don't worry, I'll manage."
"Does she bother you that much?" He didn't give an answer. "You don't need to cut yourself off, you know. It's alright, you know. There's no need to put yourself through that." He looked away from her, his face still somber and distant, and she shook her head with a defeated sigh, too tired to push the issue. "You're going to regret it in the morning," she warned.
All he did was shrug. Stubborn man. "Least of my worries. I'll stretch before we leave." He pulled a spare quilt from the closet, wrapped himself up in it, still fully clothed, and got comfortable on his couch/makeshift bed. As comfortable as he could be, anyway – she saw his feet twitch on the table. His neck wouldn't have any support where he was resting it. But she didn't say anything as he shifted around until he found the right position. She expected more resistance to the arrangement, but far sooner than she thought possible, he was asleep, his soft breathing almost lost under the noise of the city around them. She shook her head again at his silent stubbornness before she slipped under his quilt and rested down on his futon, both of which smelled freshly washed, and let the shadows soothe her to sleep.
Only she couldn't. She's lay there for more than twenty minutes before she realized how much more awake she'd become. There was no drifting off, comfortable in the surroundings of Souji's home. The noise of the traffic outside, steady even at this hour, would normally be white noise, something she could use to drown out everything else. But the harder she tried, the more aware she became. She rolled over to the other side and tried again. Then onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Which left her neck pinched uncomfortably, so she shifted to alleviate it, but twisted her back in the process.
Frustrated, she straightened out and stared at the ceiling again, and let her mind wander over the day, trying to put all the pieces together, but that helped even less. The more she tried to structure the information she'd gotten and figure out the ups and downs, the less coherence she could find. Souji's actions finally made some sense, but then the variable of his mother was added into the equation. What did she think of her? Was Souji right, and both his parents were business-minded career seekers? Had he exaggerated on how little his family communicated? His mother seemed to care about him, enough to notice his shift in moods and express some concern. Was that a new development? She realized she didn't know his father's name, despite Nanako-chan having mentioned Izumi-san in Inaba. Souji seemed most at odds with the man, so perhaps that was why he'd never called him by name. What was he like? She growled under her breath – her line of thinking was informative, but it wasn't helping her sleep. In a disgusted huff, she gave up on her thoughts, pushed herself to her feet and looked for Souji, her night-adapted eyes finding him easily.
It almost wasn't fair how peaceful he looked. He was twisted around on the couch with his shoulder sitting on the arm and his head tilted back, resting where the arm and the back met. She couldn't see for certain, but she had to guess his hip was on or near the edge of the couch's frame, and his legs were stretched out on the repositioned table. All in all, he'd be sore in the morning, and she had no idea how he'd fallen asleep in the first place. And yet he had. And she, with the comfortable futon, remained awake and restless.
She didn't know she was moving until she was standing next to the couch, and she lowered herself onto it as carefully as she could. Watching Souji in the dim light, she leaned against the back of the couch and noticed, of course, how much more comfortable it was than the futon. She noticed how Souji's hair held its natural pale hue, even in the dark. And what surprised her, as she looked at him, was how much younger he seemed in repose. Not that he looked old when he was awake, but she'd never noticed how much of his appearance she credited to his personality. It was different, seeing him vulnerable and at peace, or at least not actively on his guard.
She made a decision then. Comfortable as the futon was, she wasn't getting any sleep there. And if his mother looked in on him in the morning, she'd surely notice her presence. But then, she'd notice something if she saw Souji as he was now, so it hardly mattered. Yukiko slipped off the couch and returned to the futon, retracing her steps easily and picking up the quilt. She padded back to where she was before and lay down next to Souji, the couch cradling her in a cloud-soft hold and immediately putting her at ease. She wrapped herself in the quilt and shuffled over on the couch until she was resting against Souji's chest. Then she curled up against him, taking in his familiar scent, his slow, steady pulse and breathing, and let her concerns slip away. She was asleep before she realized she was getting tired.
And, hours later as dawn broke, Souji cracked an eye open in pain, his neck and shoulders grinding like rusting gears. He tried to move, but noticed an odd weight on his side that wasn't there when he'd gone to sleep, and the scent of new frost, fresh herbs and black tea in his nose. He looked down to see Yukiko cleaving to him, and couldn't help smiling despite being every bit as cramped as she said he'd be. The pain didn't matter as he wrapped an arm around her and revelled in the small sigh he got in return. "Not sure what I did to deserve you, Yukiko," he whispered, so quietly he barely heard it himself. "But thank you." And, still cramped and bound for more, he rested back and fell asleep again.
Sore as Souji would be that morning, Yukiko woke up feeling refreshed and clear-headed. His couch wasn't any more comfortable for her than it had to have been for him, and yet she barely felt any discomfort. She noticed that Souji had turned awkwardly in the night, which meant she'd ended up laying on top of him and wrapped under an arm she couldn't remember him moving. It also meant his head was tilted back on the arm of the couch and had even less support than when he'd gone to sleep. He'd definitely be in pain now. She curtailed her sympathy and just soaked in the feeling of him under her, solid and warm and real. Almost twenty minutes passed with her resting on him before he began to stir. First a few shivers, then a change in his breathing and twitching in his limbs, then a distinct shift as he came back to the waking world. And gave a grimaced hiss when he tried to move. She chuckled silently, watching him blearily open his eyes and try to focus on her. "Good morning," she whispered softly.
He tried nodding in response, but groaned as soon as he moved his neck. "Or something like it," he replied. "You didn't have to come over here, you know. The futon's a lot more comfortable than the couch."
"Couldn't sleep," she told him, snuggling a little closer.
"I hope it was worth it," he groused before eyeing her suspiciously. "You don't seem to be in much pain though."
The scars on her back and hip (her own lasting souvenirs from the TV world) pinched a little, but nothing painful. If anything, she felt better than she had a right to. "You just make for a very good pillow."
He looked sceptically at her cheerful smile, and gave a pained grunt as the couch frame dug into his hip. "Rub it in, why don't you? No, actually, don't," he corrected as soon as her eyes narrowed playfully. She'd been right that sleeping on the couch was a bad idea, and he didn't need the reminder.
"If you're sure," she murmured, still resting practically on top of him. Then she grabbed his hand, running her fingers over his scars while searching for his phone and snapping it open to check the time. She was surprised by how late it was – it had been a while since she'd been able to sleep in this much. "I suppose we should get moving," she murmured. She would stay there all day if it was up to her, but the train back to Inaba left at 3pm, and it was already after 9.
"I guess so," he grumbled, and even when she pushed herself to her feet and stepped over to her overnight bags, he was still moving slowly, carefully, off the couch, and she held out a hand to help him to his feet.
He grunted in pain as he pulled himself standing in a single, almost-smooth movement, and she chuckled when he told her "Never doing that again."
"I hope not. I wouldn't have minded sharing a futon with you, you know," she told him with a raised eyebrow.
"It seemed like the right thing to do at the time," he replied shortly as he nudged his table close to where it had been before. "But you're right, we should get started. I'll make some breakfast and we'll get out of here."
"Do you have a place in mind?"
"Yep. Another surprise," he told her when she looked at him hopefully. "But the washroom's down the hall to the right, if you need to clean up." She nodded and slipped into the hallway with her bags and opened the door he'd mentioned, leaving him to clean up the room as he wished. The washroom was clean, as any should be, and had the same sense of functionality as the rest of the house – it felt like entering a surgeon's room in a hospital. The Western-style shower housed several shampoos and conditioners, but when she popped the caps open and sniffed at them curiously, all she could detect was the scent of cleanliness. No fruits, no unique scents, they were just used to get the job done as part of a routine. She sighed as she thought of Souji and how this was where he lived. She understood him better now – if this were all she could talk about when the topic of 'home' were addressed, she wouldn't want to discuss it very much either. She changed and completed her morning rituals, taking care to brush her hair until it shone. She caught a look of herself in the mirror, head tilted to accommodate her brush and comb, and noticed her unadorned ears. She finished tending to her hair and set her barrette in place before she opened the box containing her new earrings and slipped them on, carefully arranging them to be seen. She packed up her things once she was done, and while she'd been careful not to leave anything behind, there was still the scent of her own shampoo, conditioner and body wash lingering in the air. But it would probably be gone before Izumi-san came home. She looked over the washroom once more and made her way to the main living area when she was done.
He was busy over the stove making breakfast as she entered the main room, and when he turned to greet her, hands still moving over a simmering pot and a hissing frying pan, he caught sight of her new earrings. His face was sallow and showed the signs of his poor sleep that night, but those pained pinch to his brow slipped away beneath the slow smile he gave her when her saw them. "Thought they'd look good on you," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.
She felt a little giddy at his words, and decided to capitalize on the feeling. She took a step forward, then pirouetted a full turn, striking an over-the-shoulder smile that pulled a delighted chuckle from her boyfriend. "So you thought about it more than once? Thought about me?"
He turned the heat down on breakfast and padded over to her, never breaking eye contact. "Yeah, more than once." He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but his smile and narrowed eyes gave him away. "And the thoughts were great, but the reality's perfect. No question."
"Flatterer."
He shook his head, almost enveloping her in his embrace, and it sunk in then just how much taller and broader he was compared to her. "Not flattery. Just honesty."
She was surprised that he smelled so fresh, distinctly minty, and was about to comment on it when she saw a bottle of mouthwash next to a small cupboard on the counter at the edge of the kitchen. She chuckled at the sight of it, and pointed it out to him when he looked at her curiously. "Ahh. It's a useful alternative for two people who work ungodly hours like my parents."
He turned then to throw together a breakfast that consisted of miso soup (extra tofu in hers) and omu-rice, and had her mouth watering within minutes. "It's not going to be much," he apologized when he'd finished and began serving their dishes. "I'm not at my best when I rush."
"It tastes wonderful," she assured him between bites, trying to wait until it wouldn't burn her mouth, but not willing to be patient – it was just too good.
He chuckled, eating at a more sedate pace. "Probably, but I try to make it perfect every time." He watched as she wolfed the food down, and let his own breakfast cool off while he called for a cab to pick them up later. Then calmly put back his food, snapping his chopsticks on hers when she tried to pick at his omu-rice, thinking he wasn't looking. "Let the food digest," he told her pleasantly, steering his food away from her and her reach.
She tried pouting for sympathy. "You're not eating yours though." It was probably the closest she'd ever gotten to a whine since the tofu debacle on the Yasogami roof, and yet all he did was smirk in response.
"Good things shouldn't be rushed," he pointed out, making a show of enjoying the meal to the fullest. She sat back against the couch in a huff, trying to look put out, but then he shuffled his omu-rice back over to her side of the table with nary a sound. "It's better than train station food," he told her without looking over. "But the cab's going to be here soon, so we should hurry."
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before taking up her chopsticks again. "Thank you," she murmured before digging into what was left of his offered breakfast. He chuckled around his soup, but didn't answer. Once they'd finished, they made short work of the dishes before heading out the door to meet their cab. He made a point of keep his voice low when telling the driver where to go, and soon enough they were off the main roads of Kofu, leaving the concrete jungle for less-busy roads and far more trees. Twenty minutes later they were let out at a large parking lot, and Yukiko looked at the "Welcome!" sign curiously. Shosenkyo, it said. "A forest?" she inquired after he'd paid the driver and led her toward the main area.
"A forest with trails, waterfalls, and even a rope bridge," he supplied. "They also have an art museum here, but I think we'll visit that when there's more time."
Yukiko had a passion for museums and old art work – an interest born from living in a ryokan all her life. But she didn't want to be rushed through it, so she nodded and stepped in beside him, taking in the sights, from the small streams to the Buddha statues in the gardens, the small amphitheatre and themed gift shops to the stone plaques and monuments along the main walkway. And the trees themselves made her feel like she was back home, from the vibrant colours, not yet ready to turn for Autumn, to the lush greenery at their feet. The entire place smelled like soil and leaves, and she could pick out the distinctive trills of birdsong if she listened hard enough.
They made their way down one of the main trails, taking in the sights and colours of nature, broken up every now and again by carved stone benches. "It's beautiful," she told him, leaning against his side. "Just like the trails on the mountains in Inaba."
"You'll have to show me a few of those," he told her as they slowly strode down the paths. "Sounds like a good way to spend the day."
"Chie showed them to me," she explained. "She uses them for endurance training when the school fitness tests come up. And she's been going a lot more often lately for her police training."
He chuckled and pulled them both to a stop as they approached a turn, offering a splendid view of a river and waterfall. "That does sound like her."
They continued down the trail, walking close together, and stopped at one of the railings, letting the other people around them pass by more freely. Did they look like a couple? Probably. And she reveled in that feeling. Not having to hide or wonder who would be around to see them. No reputation and family name to uphold, no image to maintain. She could just be herself. "I've really enjoyed this," she told him finally, trying not to dwell on her rapidly-approaching departure time.
"I'm glad you visited," he replied. "It was a surprise, seeing you and Rise there yesterday."
She braced her shoulders a little, preparing herself for what his response could be. "Then you don't mind why I came here?"
His smiled twitched a little, and he looked down. "No. I still don't want you to have anything to do with my family. But I also needed to learn that this is bigger than just what I want. I hadn't thought of that before. And I think we worked through it alright, no?"
"Well enough," she offered, inwardly relieved that there wasn't any lingering resentment or anger. Still, she was pleased with how things had worked out. A few rocky patches, but he'd learned to open up a little, and she saw and understand where he was coming from. "I'm glad we could talk about it like this."
"Me too." He turned and they continued down the trail, but slipped into a recessed alcove, surrounded by trunks and foliage and a broad canopy that cut out the sunlight above, with a view of the bridge ahead. A small section off the main track with some much-desired privacy.
"I'm looking forward to seeing you back in Inaba," she told him, quieter in the surprising intimacy of the place. Her senses started to sharpen as she tuned into him – her skin grew more sensitive, registering every layer of clothing she wore, and the sounds of the forest were starting to die away in lieu of his voice.
He seemed to be feeling the same. He was standing still, perhaps to hold himself in place, his eyes darkened just a little, and his breathing had changed. "So am I. This long-distance relationship thing is pretty over-rated."
"And it would be easier for us to see each other," she offered as she locked onto the light of his pale hair and eyes. She didn't look away. Didn't want to. "No train rides and conflicting schedules."
"We'd still have to work around your parents," he reminded her quietly, shifting a little in place. "I don't think your father likes me any more now than he did when I was there."
She smiled to herself and shook her head, a motion that sent her earrings swaying. "I'll protect you from him. He doesn't scare me very much."
He chuckled at the shared mental image of her staring down her angry father, maybe with Souji standing discreetly but distinctly behind her. "I appreciate the sentiment."
"You're worth a little risk," was her whispered reply.
Their surroundings fell away, each aware of their own heartbeat and the unexpected electricity of the moment. They both came to the same conclusion at once, and neither resisted this time.
He broke first, but not by much. He reached for her, and she pushed forward the moment she felt his hand on her shoulder. The embrace he pulled her into was tight, rough, with his arms nearly lifting her off the ground. Hers dug into the indent of his sides under his ribs, almost as tight as his did. Neither looked, but the both felt where the other was, and the kiss was everything their affections in Inaba hadn't been: hard, messy, and a little desperate. Yukiko felt like her whole body was coming alive at once, warm and intense, like she was floating in the pleasure of close contact with her boyfriend. She shivered at the strength he showed her, and pulled herself as close as she could. The full length of his body pressed against hers, every dip and ridge of muscles and scars she knew was under his clothes making her breasts and nipples tingle at the contact. He was hard and warm and just soft enough to be perfect. The world was falling away in a spin around her, leaving her floaty and disconnected. As if he knew it, he brought one up to cradle her head gently, tangling with her hair.
Their kiss broke, and she had barely opened her eyes before he caught his breath and kissed her again. She wholeheartedly approved, giving little moans and sighs into him as her arms tightened more. When she'd first met him, she admired his lips for the words they formed, how well they showed the depth of his mind. Had she the presence of thought, she would have berated herself for being so unimaginative – his lips were soft enough to entice her, and firm enough to hold her in place. They were telling her two things. Two things she heard and heeded without a moment's reservation: Closer and More. Her hormones were kicking into gear, and she was enjoying herself too much to object.
He was intoxicating. His strength and quiet passion rising to the forefront, his composed features flushed, his controlled, even voice harsh and ragged. She could feel the coiled power in his body, itching to get free, and the thought made her frantic breathing trip. Her hands began to wander, one sinking down to his waist and the other coming around to his front, slipping up his hardened stomach to his chest, resting near his heart. The hand on her hip dipped under her shirt and slowly traveled up her back, cool fingertips on her heated skin sending her into goose bumps. She wanted that intensity. That calm voice worn ragged, muscles and stamina pushed to the limit, argent eyes almost black just for her. She pulled back a little and stared into his eyes fearlessly, thrilling in the desire and passion she saw there. Words were meaningless. Just noise and birdsong. They spoke through body language, through knowing each other like no one else in their lives. With a saucy little smile and a tilt of her head, she asked him why they'd stopped, and he pulled her closer to resume their kiss–
BEEPBEEPBEEP! BEEPBEEPBEEP!
They broke apart as their phones chimed at the same time, the alarms they'd set going off to give them the time they needed to get to the train station for her departure. They stared at the inanimate objects, just circuitry and plastic and noise, and then at each other as the moment began to die away. "Not yet," she murmured with closed eyes as she pocketed her phone. He loosened his arms, letting her stand fully on the ground again, but stayed wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. It took several minutes for them both to catch their breath, but he stroked her back gently, careful to avoid stoking the passions that still coursed through them, put on hold for now. She stepped forward and let him envelope her, hiding her face in his shoulder as he whispered "I know." And what privacy they had was beginning to slip, letting in approaching people and wind in the trees and more reality than either wanted to deal with just then.
They both knew it was coming. Another time, when things were more stable and appropriate, they could have bent the rules or simple tossed them to the ground and kept going. But not now. She had her life in Inaba, her responsibilities she'd been born to and decided to shoulder with all her heart. He had his own plans to see through, between family and education to make certain his ambitions were realized. That didn't make it any easier, especially not since they'd both gotten a taste of what they wanted. But they both sighed and knew that their time together, this little fragment of a dream, was coming to an end. "I guess that's it then," she murmured, hating the sound of her voice making it real.
"For now," he assured her quietly, still rubbing her back soothingly. "Just for now. There will be other times."
"But…" Now. I want those times now.
He rested his forehead against hers, kissing her lightly, gently, like she was made of fine crystal and on the edge of breaking. Another day she might have felt patronized. But not now. "I know," he whispered. "And we'll get there. Soon."
Soon. Yes, soon. "I suppose so," she replied tonelessly. Then their phones went off again, insisting they attend to reality once more. With a shared sigh and look of resignation, they turned back down the path and headed back toward the main entrance, neither letting go of the other, and neither saying another word.
No parting between them ever felt right. This was no different. She shouldered her bags, trying to fortify her mind against leaving him, but it didn't help. For all the wonderful things he'd shown her, from the ups and downs of the past day, she couldn't help the heavy, subdued feel that was wrapped around her. Pulling her away. And from the look in his eyes, she wasn't alone in the feeling.
She didn't bother to wait for him this time – she stepped up and hugged him, hard, and felt his arms envelope her in return. It wasn't a show of affection or displaying their relationship. It was a gesture that said one thing: don't let go.
Both broke apart after a long moment, knowing they didn't have much time left. But not completely – they each held the other at the forearms, both wanting to be close. And both taking strength from the other's support. "So, I'll see you later, right?" she asked in a forced show of levity, moving one hand back to lace her fingers with his.
"Definitely," he murmured. She hadn't noticed it before, but there was a faint shiver running through his hands as he held her. "Sorry the days went by so fast. Seems like we didn't get a lot done, really."
She shook her head, catching his eyes as he watched her earrings sway. "Nothing you could have done about that. Everything happened on pretty short notice."
"Yeah, maybe. But we can pick up from here next time, and you can show me more of Inaba - I'll be there before Christmas."
"Promise?"
He smiled a little, moving the hand she wasn't holding along her arm, down her side, and rubbing a thumb on the curve of her hip. "Yep. No matter what. I'll be there."
That made her feel a little better. She leaned closer to his hand and smiled, as much as she could, at him. "Then I'll be waiting. Don't be too late." He returned her smile, gave her one last hug, which she indulged in shamelessly, and then they parted. It was time to go. "Take care."
"I will," he promised. "Call me when you get back home. Or before then, if you want."
She nodded, then parted from him as the call went up. There was plenty more she wanted to do before she left, but there was nothing left to say. "Talk to you later," she told him awkwardly, catching his nod before turning onto the train, shelving her bags, and taking her seat.
She waved and stared at her boyfriend through the window until the train shuddered underneath her and started to move. But she didn't turn away from the window until Kofu was nowhere in sight.
There she went. As spontaneously as she'd appeared the day before, she was gone again with only memories to tell she'd been there at all. Her voice was still in his ears, her taste on his lips, and he could already feel them getting further and further apart. Him in Kofu, her back to Inaba, and nothing but hundreds of miles between them. He could relate to how she must have felt when he left Inaba back in March, watching the train without any recourse or choice in the matter. Knowing it was happening, wanting to rail against it, and watching it occur anyway without being able to do anything.
It sucked. It really sucked. The sentiment was juvenile, he knew, but it best suited how he felt at the moment. He hated the distance between them, the obstacles that made their time together so rare. He loved what time they could steal – her very presence made his life more vibrant and real. But the brevity and rarity of their time together was frustrating, and even when he was back in Inaba, he didn't know how long things would last. University was coming for both of them, and he doubted they'd end up at the same institution, or even in the same part of the country. Then there was the matter of her father, a topic she'd addressed only long enough for him to know that her parents were still very much on the fence about him. And who knew about his own parents? Would they stay away and let him work his plans as he wished? Probably not, knowing his father. What would happen if they got involved in his life? Were he and Yukiko ready for more challenges on top of this? Could they pull it off?
He shook his head, clearing it of his thoughts for the moment. He tried not to think that far down the line. There were trials ahead, but he'd make it through. They'd both make it through, one way or another. They'd gotten this far. Souji sent one last look down the rail line, wistful words pulling from his lips before he squared his shoulders and turned back toward his house.
"See you soon, Yukiko."