Chapter 5. And Locked it, One Last Time
Mind is a strange thing.
Us humans like its clear state, yet very rarely experience it; too much influence, both from inside and out. Much as we like to think we're in a clear state of mind most of our lives, the doctors actually provide a whole bulletin point list of items that muddle it: first years of our childhood when there's no mind or consciousness to speak of, hunger, anger, being drunk, sadness, stress, infatuation…
Not much left afterwards, isn't it?
That's why it took about forty minutes for the shock to finally subside and my mind to regain its clarity again, and only then a thought emerged; one very clear, very obvious thought that simply waited its turn.
What should a teenager do if a situation beyond their control arises?
Well, it was obvious.
Call the adults.
Specifically, that one adult who I still trusted. Not that I didn't trust my parents but dumping it all on them was more trouble than it was worth.
Now, after guiding Yuki to the nearest sofa, all lifeless, broken down and clinging to me for dear life, I sat down, gently rested her head on my shoulder and let her wrap her arms around me; then I used my free hand to dial a number on my phone.
"'Ello?" Hiratsuka-sensei's voice seemed rather tired.
"Good evening, Sensei. It's Hikigaya."
"Hey there. Driving right now, so be brief."
"Ummm… Not sure I can… Can you stop for a bit?"
"Uhhh… I don't like where it's going. A'ight, gimme a minute."
I heard her car slowly stop, then rhythmic clicking sounds; she turned on emergency turning lights… I think that's what they're called.
"I'm listening."
I made a trembling sigh.
"I don't know if you heard already, but someone sent everyone a photo of me and Yukinoshita."
"Oh geez. Actually no, I didn't. Was in Chiba municipality on principal's behalf the whole day. So you're busted. Well, kinda complicated but- eghh, of course. Yukinoshita's family… Fine. Don't think I'd like the answer, but, erm, how did it go?"
I gulped.
"Yukinoshita's disowned. Should be evicted by tomorrow or something like that." After a moment of hesitation I added: "I'm sorry. I'm really out of options."
Long pause ensued.
"Oh, fffffuck my life." I heard shuffling, then several frantic clicks of her lighter, then a long inhale with a cracking of rapidly burning tobacco. "Alright, alright… Whew. When I graduated from the college that's not quite how I imagined… You sure are the bright spot of my career… Awesome. Don't mind me. It's not your fault. Really isn't. Where are you?"
"In her apartment."
"Be there in twenty. Don't go anywhere!"
After nodding to no one in particular I put the phone back into my blazer pocket.
"Was it Hiratsuka-sensei?" Weak raspy monotone made me turn my head; there Yuki was looking at me, her eyes still puffy and red and hair a messy mop.
"Yep." I carefully stroked her hair, to which she just dropped her head on my shoulder once more.
"Oh."
Silence fell again.
I resumed stroking motions while finally taking a look around, being too concerned about my distraught girlfriend to notice anything else before. The interior looked the same as the last time I've visited, yet the general feel drastically changed. Gone was the almost zen-like clean minimalism; it was pure chaos in comparison. A new lavender aroma was in the air, not exactly strong but annoyingly persistent. Many new items now cluttered previously empty shelves and stands: vials of perfume; a luxurious-looking small clutch bag; aroma candles(why so many?); a dirty dishon the glass table; two bottles of wine scattered nearby; articles of clothing…
My eyes stopped on something purple and lacy, seemingly carelessly tossed on the other sofa. Its design reminded a one-piece swimsuit with pronounced bra cups; judging by their size it clearly was Haruno-san's. For a second I tried to ruffle my memory regarding how it was properly called, then for some reason skipped to remembering Yuki's lime bra when I accidentally walked on her and Yuigahama changing. Then I decided it all really could wait.
All in all Yuki wasn't exaggerating the state of her living quarters back then: for all her undeniable talents Haruno-san was a horrible slob. I couldn't even begin to imagine how much it irked always pedantically prim Yuki. Nevermind that, I now fully understood how she felt when returning to her apartment and realizing it wasn't hers anymore. All that made me give her another gentle yet firm hug.
"What?.."
"Just thought how much trouble it is living with your sister."
"Ah." No more reaction. That made my heart sink again.
"I beg your pardon for the state of the apartment," Yuki half-whispered in that haunting raspy voice. "I couldn't bring myself to clean it before you arrived."
God.
"You don't have to. It's not like it's your fault, is it?"
Yuki just nodded again.
Some time later I heard a chime. What's… oh, it's Sensei. Just as I tried to dislodge myself from Yuki she clutched my hand and looked at me with an expression most helpless and begging.
"Yuki… It's the door. It's Sensei."
It took her a second to comprehend before she nodded; she then stood up and took my hand in hers.
"Together?"
"… Please."
Hand in hand we approached the door terminal. Yuki pushed the respond button.
"Who is it?"
"Oh, Yukinoshita? It's me." Sensei's voice was reassuring.
"Come in," Yuki opened the gate.
Some painfully slow minutes later the door was opened and Hiratsuka-sensei went in, immediately hugging Yuki. She tensed in turn, but then gradually relaxed.
"Thanks for coming," I uttered.
"Ehh…" Hiratsuka-sensei sighed. "I really would want to say 'no biggie', but… yeah."
"Sorry."
"Don't bother. Kinda my fault too, I encouraged you and all." Sensei and took a look around and flinched. "Mother of… Haruno's got some talent."
"My apologies," Yuki weakly muttered.
"It's not your fault. Why are you apologizing?"
SorryhachiforgivemeforgivemeIshouldn'thavedonethatfogriveme!
"…She's been like that for a while." I interjected.
Sensei swore under her breath.
"Let's go sit then. Yukinoshita, can I borrow your kitchen? I think something warm wouldn't hurt."
"I don't mind." Yuki nodded.
Sensei proceeded to the kitchen, quickly locating the grinder and coffee bags in the cupboards. Some time later she returned with a French press pot and three cups. After putting it on the table Hiratsuka-sensei went back with the dirty dish and wine bottles ("Oh for f… Haruno, you're living with a minor!"), then joined us. I took the opportunity to pour the coffee for everyone and hand one of the cups to Yuki; she accepted it with slightly trembling hands and took a gulp.
"Bitter… But warm." For the first time this evening I saw a small smile adorning her face; that made me actually sigh in relief.
"Aaalrighty then," Sensei heavily sat down and took her cup. "Some good news and some… hard news. Dunno if really bad, but hard for sure. The good news is you're most probably not disowned for real."
"How can you be so certain?" Yuki asked looking at in mild wonder.
"Kicking your own daughter out like that is a huge reputation blow nowadays. Times have changed a lot since when it was an accepted practice, you know. Good face more important than honor and all that. Not to mention that's entirely in line with her manner of upbringing you girls."
"What do you mean by that?" I wondered, genuinely curious.
"You're forgetting Haruno used to be my student too. And that meant I got a load of her mommy way before you even enrolled." Sensei's eyes became dull and unfocused for a second, like those of a war veteran. "As if dealing with Haruno herself wasn't enough…"
She took a gulp seemingly trying to shake off the traumatic memories.
"Damn this one's tasty. I kinda didn't check the label…"
"Ethiopian Mocha."
"Oh wow. Sorry for just taking it like that."
"It's alright. This one's Sister's." Yuki actually managed a flinch. She's further thawing, I noted. Good.
"Well then, back to the topic. The good Kei Yukinoshita looved to punish Haruno by grounding her or taking away her allowance. Speaking of that she also loved to talk her down whenever she needed but Haruno's grown a thick skin too fast for mom's comfort, so yeah. Once, when Haruno was late at the party, Yukinoshita-san simply forbade her from coming home for three days straight. Like, if you love it outside so much you might as well stay there until you remember what's right for you. Though, Haruno being Haruno, she just stayed at her friends'. Dunno if she was this much of a slob-"Sensei raised her brows. "oh wait, she was. Never lived more than one night at anyone's place. Wonder how they stayed friends afterwards."
"Huh. I can imagine."
"Naah, you can't." Hiratsuka-sensei waved her free hand at me dismissively and took another gulp. "And don't even get me started on PTA assemblies because guess what? She's the chairperson there."
Ouch.
"By any chance does she ignore you entirely?"
"When she sees fit. Sooo, you too?" When I nodded, Sensei mock-saluted me. "Welcome to the club. If she's ignoring you you're probably a nice lad. Though I know that already. Anyway. Be ready for her to come about a week later to check if you've learned your lesson. Thousand yen on that."
"Not sure if want to bet."
"Kidding. I'm not having bets with my own students. Though that reminds me of the hard news. The kicking out of your apartment part is most probably real. Vengeful bitch for sure, your mommy, the PTA participants have learned that. That means you have to live somewhere for the time being."
"I understand," Yuki finally responded.
"Alright then. Do you have any relatives nearby?"
"I don't," Yuki shook her head. "The closest is father's aunt somewhere in Gunma and I haven't even seen her for several years."
"Nah, that's out. You still have to attend school because arranging anything else would involve your mother again. Hmmm… what about your father by the way? He seems like a decent man."
"He's…" Yuki paused. "He's overseas right now, on a business trip. My apologies, I don't remember his contact by heart and it's in my phone…"
"… That's taken away," I finished. Sensei just groaned and facepalmed.
"Maybe Haruno-san knows." I suggested. "It's not like I want to contact her all that much though…"
Sighing, I took out my phone and dialed her contact. Long dial tones followed for a minute until the call ended.
"Not picking up."
"Let me try then," Sensei replied. A minute later she shook her head: "Not to me either."
She massaged her eyes and downed the rest of her coffee.
"In the meantime, what other options do we have?"
"… I think if I beg my mom hard enough she can live at my place," I slowly suggested.
"No." Yuki suddenly interjected.
"Why? I can lend you my room and sleep on the sofa-"
"No. No more begging." Yuki sat upright; while still raspy, her voice now had familiar angry determination. "Sensei…"
"Yeah?"
"Realistically speaking… worst case scenario… what is the minimum I have to earn to support myself?"
That caught Hiratsuka-sensei off guard.
"Huh… Well, you kinda do live alone anyway…" She shifted her weight and scratched her chin. "Let's see. Worst case scenario means we're including school tution fee. It's submitted at the start of enrollment, so it's probably paid already. Wonder if your mom's petty enough to recall it… But let's say she is. Last time I checked it's 628000 yen for class J's third year. Not sure if you have that much money on you, but I think organizing monthly payments shouldn't be too hard. At least I'm certain that doesn't involve the PTA, thank god."
She counted one finger.
"Next up is apartment rent and utility bills. I'd say aim for under 100000 yen total, there are some nice offers but not really close to school… buuuut I think I know the right guy to call."
Another folded finger.
"That leaves food, transportation and everything else. 50000 is a bare minimum, 100000 is more comfortable. That gives us, ummm…"
"212800 to 262800 yen a month," Yuki finished.
"Yeah, thanks. Hourly wages around here are roughly 1000 yen for part-timers, let's take that as a reference. That makes 215 to 260 hours a month, or at least 52 hours a week of work on top of attending school… Kinda tough…"
"I'll manage," Yuki firmly said. "I have to."
"Wouldn't be so sure about that…" Sensei scratched her head. "Fifty hours a week is more than adults do normally, you know. And you also have school and preparing for the university."
"I'll find a better job then."
"Can you? It's not like…"
I realized I had tuned myself out of the conversation bit by bit; my head was occupied with semi-related but very private thoughts.
There were two forces fighting inside me. One was to hide away because the decision I was making would mean many horrors I'd rather not encounter again. Normally it always had been winning flawlessly and that was how things went in my life.
But now there was that other force. A very inconvenient one, for it demanded me to throw my life principles out of the window and, basically, raise my arse to do something for real. And that was "I care for Yuki too much to leave her alone". And "Yuki is always struggling by herself and I don't want her to". And "I don't want her to suffer".
To be completely honest, I realized, it wasn't so much a battle of two forces as just me trying to fight my own inner five year old's temper tantrum.
"I'll move in too. And take part-timing." I suddenly heard myself saying. "Then it's, what, 25 hours or three hours a day for each of us?"
Silence followed. I felt two pairs of eyes staring at me.
"Hachi…" Yuki flinched. "As much as I appreciate your help I don't want to depend on anyone anymore. I don't want to cry helplessly anymore. I don't need pity-"
"It's not pity!" I replied angrily. Then I caught myself and lowered my voice: "Sorry. Yuki. Please listen."
After a pause she nodded.
"I fully understand you. That was your request. To stand on your own two feet. I know you think I pity you. But…" Clenching and unclenching my fist, I continued: "You also requested me to help you someday. Don't you remember?"
"I…" Yuki's eyes widened. "…I did."
"So I will. Because I want to and don't make me repeat myself."
Yuki bit her lip and finally showed me a confident smile.
"… Yes. Thank you, Hachi."
"As much as I would like to point out a boy and a girl living together is not a good idea…" Sensei interjected. "I won't. It really is the least of your concerns. Though I'm obliged to remind you about protection."
"What protection?" I dumbly asked before it finally dawned on me and my face lit up. A brief glance at Yuki confirmed the same was true for her.
Sensei noticed our state and decided to add:
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Bear with me please… Back to other topics. I can't stay the night with you but I'll return first thing in the morning with the moving guys. Decide what you take with you in the meantime."
"Not much, in fact," Yuki replied. "Basically nothing here is mine."
"Sounds about right… Still sad though." Sensei scratched her head. "This all is… childhood's end, basically. Wish it wasn't so rough for you…"
"Thank you. For your help."
In response Sensei just shrugged, then grabbed her phone and selected someone's contact.
"Pick up, pick up- Hey Sato? Nope, actually not so good. Sorry for calling so late, need an urgent advice…"
After giving us the rest of the necessary instructions and reassuring again she'd return first thing in the morning Hiratsuka-sensei had left. We now were alone in a messy, alienated apartment; I couldn't help but sense the almost palpable silence and discomfort.
The feeling of urgency and anxiety kept prodding me to do something; giving into it, I tried to remember what that would be, yet nothing came up; after some time I finally realized there really was nothing left to do, just stay the night by Yuki's side.
Wasting my time again, that feeling of anxiety. Begone. I now will lean against the sofa, readjust Yuki on my shoulder and make you get out of my mind.
A sudden ringing from my blazer pocket startled us both; Yuki almost jumped in surprise.
"M-my phone," I hastily clarified.
"Oh… Of course."
"I think I'll pick it up."
"A-alright…"
One look at the screen confirmed my suspicion: Yuigahama.
Well obviously. By this time she had probably tried to call Yuki several times and most definitely had a text rebuttal from her mother. Now I could clearly imagine her panicking and calling me to share the news.
"It's Yuigahama," I sighed. "Probably also received some nasty text from your mother."
"… Also?"
"Uhhhh… She wrote you never loved me and stuff."
That actually made Yuki massage the bridge of her nose.
"I don't even… And pick it up already."
"Right."
"Hikki?! Hikki, Yukinon's not picking up and sending weird stuff like-"
"Evening to you too Yuigahama," I replied, making my tone be as measured and level as possible. "No, she didn't actually send all that to you. Her mother took away her phone and chased her away. She's with me right now."
"…Eh? How did you know?" To the right of me Yuki actually put a finger to her forehead and briefly giggled.
"I can read minds. Have you forgotten?"
"Meanie!.. Can I talk to Yukinon?"
"Alright, switching." I spent a second trying to remember where I had put my handkerchief to wipe the phone; after remembering where it was I fetched it and started rubbing the microphone grill only for Yuki to actually cringe and grab it from me.
"Yuigahama-san? Good evening… Yes, I am alright… No, I wouldn't say such things. Please have some faith in me… Oh. No worries. I understand… In my apartment. Hikigaya-kun's with me- no, no, no need to. Not today… No, nothing like that- Yuigahama-san, I am just deeply ashamed of what Sister had turned my apartment into!.. It's that bad. Yes, he's…" She glanced at me. "He's by my side. My apologies for… Oh. I'm honestly glad to hear that. Can we… Can we speak at school? I promise I'll tell everything. I will be fine, Yuigahama-san, please don't torture yourself over me- I… It's… No… No, you are still my friend. I will, I promise… Thank you… Good night… Right… Right… Good night."
After returning the phone to me Yuki quietly exhaled, looking mildly frustrated.
"Yuigahama-san is a wonderful person, really."
"… Just noisy?"
"… Yes." Yuki reluctantly nodded. "If you ever try wiping your phone for me again I will be offended."
"Uhhh… sure."
"And… wait a minute." She looked at the phone again, then at me; her look was most disapproving and suspicious imaginable. "What is this star-heart-star-note-Yui-note-heart-star?.."
"What is?.." Then it hit me. "Hey! That's how she noted her contact down in my phone herself! All the way back! Why do I even have to justify myself- are you jealous again?"
"… That I am." Yuki half-heartedly huffed. "What of it?"
"Alright, alright… see, fixed."
"That would be most desirable."
I tugged her cowlick gently; she gave me a small nudge into my palm.
"Now that I think about it, I gotta call home and tell them I won't return tonight… never done that before… Huh."
"Go on then."
I dialed another contact.
"Hi-hi, what's up Bro? You're kinda late tonight. Staying late with Yukino-san?" I could practically see her brows wiggle suggestively; that smarmy tone didn't help either.
"Yeah. Why?"
Pause followed.
"Heeeeeh."
"You're a 'Heeeh' yourself. It's really serious. I'll tell you later. For now can you just inform the folks I'm staying the night elsewhere?"
"Huh. You're not even flustered… That's serious business." She sounded genuinely surprised, to the point of being dumbfounded. "Something bad?"
"Not bad, just…" I struggled to find the right word for a moment. "…tough. Gotta stay with her for the time being."
"Whoa… Bro, you're kinda amazing. It's like you met just the right girl and changed entirely… I don't mind though."
"If you put it that way."
"Alright, I'll leave it to you. Hang in there, Big Bro. Nighto!"
"Thanks. Nighto."
Putting the phone back into pocket, I noticed Yuki's stare. It wasn't exactly sad, just… longing.
"Have I told you I envy you two?"
"Well… Yeah, you actually did. Remember Saize?"
"Indeed."
With that she carefully hugged my arm and leaned into it once more.
Lean back, check.
Yuki being as comfortable as possible at the moment, check.
My grumbling stomach… what?
"Was that yours?" Yuki asked, mildly surprised.
"Y-yeah…" I admitted reluctantly. "You weren't supposed to hear that… Uh, sorry."
"Are you hungry?"
"…Probably?" The reluctancy was still there and I fully meant it. "No… It's… really no big deal. I maybe should go drink a glass of water or two, if that's alright."
Yuki dislodged herself from me and sat upright.
"I'll prepare dinner."
"Are you sure?"
"It's the least I can do…" After a pause she added: "… to repay you."
"That again," I flinched. "You don't owe me-"
"But I do." She gave me a sternly determined look. "I do. Not to mention it's rather late and you probably skipped your evening meal."
Just as I opened my mouth Yuki interrupted me:
"It really is nothing in particular for me, Hachi. I'm not that bad at the moment."
Yuki was being stubborn again. Just like old times. One thing that kept tingling in mind though…
"For two of us. I somehow feel I should clarify that."
"It's alright," she gently shook her head, "I'm not hungry."
There she went again.
"You are." I pointed out. "You've skipped dinner too."
"I don't feel like eating," Yuki looked aside.
"You should. I know how that feels. I was actually like that too when preparing for middle school exams. Komachi had to kick me into eating."
"It's not the same."
"It is."
She made a long tired sigh; to be precise, it was also a really articulated long tired sigh, just to show me her exasperation. At least that's how it felt for me.
"Stubborn, are you."
That actually made me roll my eyes; something I've only seen in movies before.
"Look who's talking."
"I-"
Yuki stuttered mid-word, then looked at me and blinked several times. Then she dropped her face into her hands and started shaking. Just as I felt my heart dropping at the thought that I made her cry, her giggling became loud enough for me to hear.
"We both are absolutely worth each other," She uttered after looking at me again, with a knowing smile this time. "Aren't we?"
"Yep. Seems like it," I couldn't help but smile back, feeling some invisible spring inside me unwind and bring me relief of sorts.
"Fine. A dinner for both it is then."
Yuki headed into the kitchen, her back upright and steps light. I followed suit.
Yuki's kitchen, unlike the rest of her apartment, still retained the clean look and feel; seemed like Haruno-san didn't frequent it. By the looks of it the cooking space wasn't all that bigger than our home's: a counter facing the living room with with a sink, a rice cooker and a small 3-burner stove, a fridge with a microwave on top, a cupboard, a railing with ladles and spatulas on hooks, a magnetic strip with knives. Not that I was a kitchen expert or anything, but the placement looked neat and, knowing Yuki, was probably well-organized.
"I plan to make some sort of a pasta dish," Yuki interrupted my observations. "Do you mind?"
"You mean like in Saize? Nah, I don't."
"Most probably nothing fancy either. I don't think I have the right ingredients for that. One moment, let me check the fridge…"
Driven by curiosity, I decided to also have a peek over Yuki's head. The inside was half-empty and, aside from a battery of sauce bottles and couple of juice jugs, contained identical labeled containers. Kinda like mom and Komachi did it, just with more idiosyncrasy.
As I was marvelling at yet another testament of Yuki's meticulousness, she quickly assessed the contents and closed the door with a somewhat miffed expression.
"Unfortunately no macaroni and cheese," Yuki informed me, somewhat guiltily. "I forgot to replenish my stock of Gruyere cheese and seems like Sister's finished the milk. No Bolognese either…"
She touched her nose, pondering.
"Umm… would pesto or carbonara be alright with you?"
"Sure."
"Which one then?"
"Err… Carbonara?"
"Carbonara it is…" Yuki nodded and opened another cupboard, then reached for the tin can, but immediately put it back with a frown. This was followed by her quickly checking two other cans with the same effect.
"…not. What happened to pasta?.." Yuki gasped. "Probably out of stock too. That or Sister does secretly cook when I'm not around…"
"You think she can cook?"
"Anything I can do she can do better," Yuki shrugged with a mildly bitter face. "Or so I'm told."
"Not really."
"Thank you for your concern, but it is objectively-"
"You're way more caring, you know."
That left Yuki open-mouthed for the whole four seconds.
"You certainly know your way with words," she shook her head; I noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. A moment later Yuki resumed checking the cupboard: "Surely there should be at least some rice… Oh. Here it is. Arborio, perfect. Would you mind if it'd be risotto instead?"
"Fine by me. Anything you cook is fine by me."
"Y-you're overdoing it." She now was blushing even more fiercely. Shaking her head as if trying to dispel it, Yuki reached for another tin and set it at the table, along with a bottle of olive oil.
"Risotto, risotto…" She opened the fridge again. More containers appeared on the table: shrimp, herbs, cheese, canned peas, garlic. Yuki also took a smaller container from the freezer. "Frozen broth," she explained while closing the door and fetching an apron and a kerchief in one swift motion. All I could do was just stand back, not get in the way and watch Yuki be in her element.
After that she took out a pan and a large pot, set the pan on the stovetop and put the pot into the sink to fill it with water. After half-filling it Yuki headed for the stove only to bang the pot into the fridge door and almost drop it, spilling some water.
Gasping, Yuki took several deep breaths, smiled guiltily at me, put the pot back into the sink and crouched down at the cupboard. There she took a mop and started cleaning up the spilled water. Just as she was standing up, Yuki banged her shoulder into the cupboard door handle and winced in pain, dropping the mop and nursing her shoulder.
"Yuki?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." She gave me yet another guilty smile. "My apologies. I'll be fine."
Somehow I didn't believe that.
Yuki took several deep breaths, moved back to the sink and turned the water on. Another attempt at lifting the pot ended up in her hand slipping. Yuki tried to make several deep breaths again; they turned out shallow and fast instead.
A definition straight out of a textbook suddenly emerged in my head: panic attack.
"H-hachi, please pardon me I'm not like that it doesn't happen I-"
I abruptly hugged her, trying my best to soothe.
"Sorry… Sorry…" Though her breath steadied, her voice indicated she was about to cry again. "I'm… useless again…"
The hug won't cut it this time. That much was obvious to me now. I had to do… something.
Go to the combini for a bento? Quickly fix something myself? Give up on the idea?
No, I realized with an uncharacteristic clarity. All of this would only serve to send Yuki into a downward spiral of self-loathing. Just like the one she had been in recently. Something else… Oh.
"Yuki?"
"… What is it?"
"… How about I cook by your directions?"
That made her look at me.
"You mean…"
"Yeah. You give directions, I follow." I shrugged. "Shouldn't be too hard, right?"
She kept looking at me for some time, then hesitantly nodded.
"Then… please take this apron."
"Alright."
Yuki untied her apron and handed it to me. I clumsily put it on, trying to figure out how to tie it.
"Reminds me of Yuigahama-san." Yuki suddenly laughed. "Hold still."
She reached out for the knot, untied it and tied back again.
"Like this."
I nodded; Yuki squeezed my hand a bit.
"Well then…" She took a deep breath and put a finger on her chin. "Start with putting the pot in the stove top and turning on the fire."
"Mhm." I did as instructed, then paused trying to figure out which knob it was.
"Rightmost. Turn it all the way right and push." I did as instructed; the stove emitted a hiss, then several clicks, and finally blue gas flame appeared.
"Good. Now adjust the flame so it all would be beneath the pot."
"Done."
"Good." Yuki massaged her temples, seemingly collecting her thoughts. "Now put the broth container inside. We'll have to wait for it to thaw, this should take no more than ten minutes."
"Got it." I returned to Yuki. "Now we wait."
"Wrong," she smiled, a bit mischievously. "Now we use the meantime more rationally. Start with chopping the garlic. Half a head should be fine. Use a chef's knife. Do you-"
"I do." I pointed at a rather hefty knife in question. "This one."
"Correct." Yuki nodded. "You are apparently better than I thought… marginally. The cutting board is over there on the railing."
"Oi." I half-heartedly countered, took the knife, settled the cutting board on the counter and pried off several cloves from the garlic head. Yuki put it back into the fridge.
"Good. Now crush them with the knife, clean and mince. Can you do that?"
"Mhm."
Remembering how Komachi did it, I crushed the cloves with the knife's flat side, peeled off the skin and paused, trying to remember how to mince it properly.
"You don't know the knife techniques, don't you?" Yuki noticed my hesitation. "Just finely cut it then."
"Alright. Sorry."
"I'll make a cook out of you someday at this rate," Yuki sighed showing me a content smile.
"If you say so." Unable to find any more words, I just concentrated on chopping.
"Good. Now put out all the other ingredients into the saucers… one moment." Yuki put several plates on the table. "They won't need cooking, but it's handy when they're laid out before being added."
"Mhm."
After I did so, all we could do was wait till the broth warmed up. I used that time to return to Yuki, who scooted up to me. Together we waited, her head on my arm, watching the pot, feeling no particular need to talk.
"I think it's time," Yuki finally said. "Turn the gas on under the pan and pour some oil."
"On it."
"Alright. Now add the garlic, wait till it's fragrant and pour the rice… this much." She took a measuring cup and filled it.
"Okay. Like this?"
"Better than Yuigahama-san, I guess," Yuki nodded approvingly.
The rest of cooking was rather repetitive: scoop some broth, pour into rice, wait till it was absorbed, repeat till we were out of broth. As a final step I've added the rest of the ingredients, let it simmer for a minute, turned off the gas and mixed in the cheese.
"One final step," Yuki noted. "Mince the parsley."
"Okay." I started cutting the leaves.
"Not quite like this…" Yuki approached me. "I think it's time to teach you knife rocking now. So, you have cut the leaves. Now arrange them into a pile… Yes, like this."
She now was basically hugging me from the back.
"Now put your hands on the handle and the blade closer to the tip… like this," her hands gently guided mine. "Now just make the rocking motions."
"O-okay."
Left, right, left, right… oh. Easier than I thought.
"Don't leave out the pieces. Precision, then speed, not the other way around."
"Like this?"
"Yes," she put her hands off mine, then suddenly hugged me firmly.
"Yuki?"
"Please don't mind me," Yuki gently laid her head on my back.
"You sound happier now."
"Probably…" She peeked from the side. "Looks good. Now it's done. Divide it between the plates and garnish with parsley. I think I can do the latter now… And Hachi?"
"Hm?"
"I don't mind living with you. At all."
"… Huh."
"Let's eat," I said the ritual phrase.
"Let's eat," Yuki repeated and took a fork. Just as she was about to taste the food she noticed my stare.
"You are staring… are you by any chance apprehensive?" Yuki giggled again. "Don't worry, it takes a special sort of talent to ruin something like this."
"… oh." I forced myself not to fix my stare at her and finally dug in. The risotto indeed was very tasty, creamy, with the scent from the aged cheese, garlic undertones and parsley freshness.
"It's good, Hachi," Yuki said. "Almost perfect for a first-timer."
"Almost?"
"Maybe save for the coarsely chopped garlic."
"Sorry."
"It's alright, Hachi. You really did well. Thank you."
"Eh… you're welcome," I managed, feeling my cheeks burning. Since when did I become a typical shoujo heroine?..
"By the way…" I decided to switch topic. "Is it me or are you kinda inclined to the Western food?"
"I probably am," She replied after chewing up and taking a sip of her juice. "My Western dishes are self-taught."
"From that time in America?"
"Correct. Call it acquired taste. My family only acknowledges Japanese cuisine. For me, though… Macaroni and cheese is my go-to comfort food… Is that weird?"
"Mmmm… no." I shrugged. "No more than your other quirks, anyway."
"Quirks?.." She tilted her head.
"Too many to count."
"Oh. So quirks…"
"Hey. I never said it's bad thing."
"… Ah."
"Yeah, well… Been meaning to ask. Are you against Japanese food?"
"I… don't think so?"
"Oh, good then."
We finished our dinner in silence.
"The detergent bottle is to the right."
"… eh?" I paused. "Oh. Of course. Gotta wash my own dish?"
"Please do."
Sighing, I took a sponge and the bottle she pointed at, squeezed some of the detergent and started soaping up my plate.
"I'd like you to also rinse the pot. I'll wash the pan afterwards."
"… Okay."
Uncomfortable silence fell.
"M-my apologies, I probably shouldn't-"
"No, it's fine."
Now that I thought about it… it only seemed fair. I said myself I would live with her; no one forced me to offer that. And that meant doing the chores. And living up to Yuki's strict householding standards. She was in no state to properly watch the house and… for the first time in my life… I felt ashamed for wanting to slack off of those.
"Gotta warn though…" I slowly uttered. "I'm kind of a slob."
"So I noticed, not to worry."
"Seriously though, compared to you everyone's a slob."
"Is that an insult or a compliment?"
"… Probably both?"
"Oh." Yuki squinted. Then a teasing smile slowly appeared on her face; the one I missed so much.
"Nya!" She pointed at the dish in my hands, still unwashed.
"What?"
"Nyaa!" She actually put her hands on her hips and looked at me with a stern expression.
"Alright… I brought it upon myself, didn't I."
"Nyan."
I washed the dish, making sure it actually squeaked when I put a finger to it.
"That good?"
"Nya." She nodded in approval, then went to the sink to wash her plate. Afterwards she took the pan, filled it with hot water, carefully set it aside (steady hands now) and pointed to the pot.
"Nya."
Smiling to myself, I took it, worked my sponge thought its surface and rinsed.
"Good?"
"Nya!" She practically beamed now.
"Need help with the pan?"
"Not really," she spoke normally. "Not that much space by the sink. Would you mind helping me put it back though?"
"Sure."
"Thank you."
The utensils were on their places, the stove sprayed with the detergent, the counter wiped clean. The kitchen was back to its initial state.
"Yes, it has to be like that after every cooking session," Yuki noticed the look on my face and decided to add insult to injury.
"Sure, sure… Nice to see you back to the norm."
"Is that sarcasm?" She tilted her head to me, lips slightly curling upwards.
"You know me long enough to determine it on your own, don't you."
"True." She lifted her hands and stretched. "It's getting late. I suggest we take a bath and sleep."
"Yeah. Tomorrow's… moving?"
"Correct." Yuki nodded. "Though as I said, I won't be taking much. Let me also remind you you'll have to move your necessities too."
"Sure. Don't wanna think about it now, really."
"I understand." Yuki suddenly made a complicated face. "For now I need to use… b… bathroom."
"Oka- Ahhhh…" My mind went blank for a second. Oh, right. Even in her expensive condo the soundproofing was probably so-so. What to do, what to do-
"One moment, gotta grab my earplugs."
"Thank you." Yuki frantically bowed. "S-sorry."
Compared to that, entering the bathtub Yuki had previously used wasn't that much of a shock in comparison. Frankly, I tiredly mused letting the hot water relax my muscles, I was basically too overwhelmed by everything to care at this point.
That extended to the rest of the evening; I saw Yuki in a cute long blue nightgown shyly laying her futon beside mine in the living room, explaining with a stutter she was afraid to sleep alone after all. I discreetly undressed under the blanket. As we lay down she curled up and slowly took my hand; we both drifted to sleep, no anxiety, no excitement, just an engulfing feeling of fatigue and the need to rest.
The only thought that briefly flashed in my head before sleep took over was: where the hell had Haruno-san been all this time?..
"As I thought… it is you after all."
A woman turned her eyes to us and stood up from her seiza position, in one refined elegant motion showing years of training. Her long well-cared hair were styled into a classic marumage, straight from old paintings; they were adorned with small chrysanthemum pins, beautiful yet disturbingly unsettling when looked up close. Lithe crimson cranes on her ash-gray kimono kept moving, rearranging themselves into intricate patterns with the woman's every move. A wrapped fan in her right hand, onyx black with bright red highlights at the edges, had a small droplet on the tip. Her eyes, golden-yellow eyes of a Shadow, were following us closely, yet showed no malice or threat.
There she stood before us, a picture of rich elegance, in a middle of a big spacious room with wooden beams, bamboo paper walls and hay mats. Her name was Kei Yukinoshita and she was the mistress of her Palace.
"You have come too, Yukino," she addressed Yuki beside me. "I appreciate that, for it spares me the pesky trouble of finding you myself. All's left for me is to properly punish you for thinking you can act on your own volition. Would you be so kind as to come here, put that vulgarly unfitting clothes off and gladly receive my whipping?"
Before, this would make Yuki panic and despair. Not anymore: Yukino Yukinoshita was skilled, smart and fearless, a deadshot with her compound bow, and a drop-dead stunner in her archery jacket and pants, thigh boots and gauntlets. The only part unnecessary in her fashion choice were cat ears popping out of her freely flowing hair, easily betraying her mood and constantly tempting everyone in the team to scratch behind them. That even included Alan Milne: time to time the famous writer's Persona deliberately materialized behind Yuki and scratched those enticingly moving ears, calling her Tigger and receiving his righteous punishment whenever she caught up.
… I swear, I never showed her Fate's Atalante design. Honest.
And this Yuki found it appropriate to just shrug, tilt her head and reply:
"Do make an effort. Come and take it."
Kei Yukinoshita's eyes flashed.
"Why are you making it harder for yourself? Don't you know better than to anger someone you're in the rightful possession of?"
"Sorry, Yukinon," Yuigahama said in mild shock, "Your mom's really a jerkass. Sorry for not believing you and Hikki."
"It's alright, Yuigahama-san. Few people do."
"Still…"
Don't let her adventurously short frilly pink dress and lace-trimmed gloves deceive you: even though Yuigahama's morning star club was also pink, it was no less deadly than a morning star of any other color. Blunt, heavy and spiked; is this how Yuigahama wanted to be, I sometimes wondered.
"Eh, well, punching the bitch will be even more satisfying," Hiratsuka-sensei added flexing her hands clad in shotgun gloves and rolling her shoulders nicely accentuated by a black trench coat. I'd recommend anyone to stay away from the Fists of Fury; add to that her M60 machine gun now peacefully slung behind her back and you get a lethal beauty. The only detail undermining the whole "beautiful valkyrie" image was her Persona: Erich Maria Remarque, author of the one book that will make you hate war, any war.
"Why aren't you on the floor yet?" Kei Yukinoshita meanwhile went on, motes of flames appearing around her one by one and face twisting into a menacing horned mask. "You are forcing me to take drastic measures. You are what's rightfully mine, meant to be used to achieve what's rightfully mine! How dare they all be wealthier than me! More influential than me! Thinking they're better than me!"
The more she spoke, the less was left of the coldly elegant woman who met us. Now this creature more and more resembled a fiery demon, cranes turning into intertwined snakes, flowers nauseatingly convulsing and spitting what looked like poison, her fan, while still wrapped, was now spilling real blood.
"Accept my wrath and be joyous about it! I leave you no other choice!"
"Heh. No choice," I sounded more giddy than I probably should given the circumstances. "What do you think of that, monsieur Sartre?"
"That you are getting quite cocky, young man," my Persona replied chidingly, "I agree with the rest, though."
We all had received supposedly the most fitting Personas, and by some whim of some unknown deity they all turned out to be writers. Either that Phileon fellow was absolutely wrong, or there was more to us than even we ourselves knew.
Wasn't it true for anyone though?
As Kei Yukinoshita's Shadow turned into its true form of hannya honnari, given in to her jealousy and superiority complex, I just calmly checked the bayonet mount on my Arisaka Type 99 rifle; no sheer firepower of Hiratsuka-sensei, no Yuigahama's blunt force, probably no Yuki's finesse, but instead full versatility; just like my working fatigues, hoodie and body armor, making me look some sort of a shaggy guerilla fighter. Well, if some of my enemies preferred form over function… they died disappointed.
"You know the rest, people," I addressed my team. "Engage."
Well, as far as vivid colorful dreams go, I groggily pondered after opening my eyes, this one sure takes the cake.
This particular awakening felt very different from the norm. The first rays of sunlight were falling from a different side than I was used to. The room was bigger, the futon instead of my bed was lower, and beside me on the adjacent futon was Yuki, still holding my hand in her sleep, curled up under her blanket the same way as the night before.
There were no brave individuals changing peoples' minds by beating their Jungian subconscious selves while looking flashy, no famous writers' Personas to assume and use, no weapons. Just me and a girl who was about to relocate to a new unknown place and live there.
Those happy-go-lucky protagonists had it so easy, dammit.
That was second last thought before I fell asleep again. The last thought was: what's Yuigahama's Persona?..
The room now was considerably brighter and sparrows were now avidly chirping outside. That plus incessant beeping of my phone's alarm clock indicated it was morning. Reflexively turning it off, I assessed my surroundings.
It was still Yuki's living room, same as the evening before, yet very different and unsettling. After a minute of pondering I realized it wasn't the room's fault; it was me. I very rarely slept outside my cozy bedroom, and that was either when mom and dad visited their parents in Fukuoka or we went out for a trip. So this was that nagging feeling of everything not in the right place, not exactly painful or unbearable, but annoyingly buzzing in the back of my mind like a particularly evil mosquito out for my blood. Or death by exhaustion.
Taking several slow breaths to chase the feeling away, I turned right to be greeted with a bundle neatly wrapped in the blanket on the neighboring futon. The only things sticking out were strands of long black hair loosely tied with a ribbon for the night, and a petite palm lying on top of mine. Quiet measured heaving was heard from inside.
Yuki.
Events of the last day resurfaced in my head. Us being exposed, talking with Hayama, talking with Haruno-san, dealing with the fact that Yuki had to move out into the unknown now… All in one day. That's probably a three months worth of events and I had an impression we both had to catch up to them.
A familiar feeling of dread slowly emerged; it was met with a rather level reception. Either sleeping helped or I was too numb for anything.
The measured heaving nearby meanwhile stopped. For some time there was no movement, then the hand on mine twitched, paused and felt my palm up. After another pause the hand disappeared into the blanket bundle, which then was set slightly ajar to reveal me Yuki, still curled up and eyeing me in a mix of wonder and anxiety.
"Morning," I uttered, my voice still hoarse after waking up.
Yuki blinked, looked around me, frowned, widened her eyes and curled up even more, but then uncurled back.
"Oh… Good morning," Yuki finally responded while adjusting her blanket and tucking herself in again. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah." Weird dreams notwithstanding. "You?"
"Same," Yuki replied, slowly blinking and hiding a yawn behind her palm. That made me yawn too.
"It's contagious."
"It's supposed to be," Yuki hid her palm under the blanket again and showed me a sleepy smile. "According to some theories it helps synchronizing sleep patterns in herds."
"You and I aren't a herd."
"Technically we are." Yuki yawned into her palm again. Definitely deliberately this time.
"Sure," I responded after yawning again, "I got it loud and clear. Let's go back to sleep."
"Unfortunately I have to move out today…" Yuki's expression saddened. I reached out for her cheek and gently caressed it, to which Yuki cupped it with her palm and kissed it.
"I'm better now," Yuki finally said, slipping out of my hand and sitting up on her knees. Gently tossing the blanket aside, she raised her hands and stretched.
A tied mane of long flowing hair, still unruly after sleeping, slid down along her sleepy face and slender neck, gently following the shape of her lithe figure, stopping just shy of her thighs. Her fingers involuntarily curled into paws. Her nightgown, while rather modest, did nothing to hide no curves, drawing attention and mesmerizing.
I realized I was staring; short time later Yuki realized that too. Opening her eyes, she glanced at me, then squinted again and slightly blushed; the stretching, however, went on.
"You… look nice," I finally said.
"My, aren't you flirty early in the morning," coy expression adorned Yuki's face again as she dropped her hands on her knees. "I suggest I'll go wash first so you won't wait while I prepare breakfast later."
"Well… if you're up for it."
As I finished washing and drying my face with a towel Yuki had provided, the nice smells from the kitchen had finally reached me. Roasted toasts, eggs, bacon… Seemed like Yuki had settled on the classical English breakfast.
The thought proved right. She had just finished setting the plates with toasts, bacon, eggs and simple tomato salad. I reflectively flinched at tomatoes but decided to let it slide; no need to ruin the mood by being picky.
"Breakfast's ready," Yuki, now in comfy long skirt and an oversized blouse, notified turning to me. "Please wait a moment while I bring the teapot."
"Let me grab it."
Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but then simply exhaled.
"Please do. Just so we don't bicker over it again."
The only adequate answer for that was simply to shrug and go to get the teapot. Which I did.
By the time we heard door com's chime signalling the arrival of Hiratsuka-sensei and the moving crew we were fully ready. The futons were stowed back into their compartments, kitchen had been cleaned, Yuki was fully dressed and three big cardboard boxes awaited at the entrance. A minimally necessary set of clothes, Yuki's text books and stationery, hygiene supplies and a kitchenware set. Nothing more.
Compared to the rest of the furnishing this really was laughably little. Most of Yuki's apparel, decor and novelty items were going to be left behind, which included the eponymous wardrobe full of her dresses. When asked if she would miss them, Yuki simply shrugged.
I had also been invited to her room for the first and, ironically, the last time. The most distinct feeling was a strange mix of awe from being in my girlfriend's room and quiet marvelling at how neatly functional it was; on par with the rest of her apartment, it seemed. Otherwise it was, while definitely a girl's room with pastel palette and nice mixture of aromas not unlike what Komachi's one had, just an ordinary room.
And she was going to leave it all behind. We both were.
The door opened revealing Sensei and two stocky men in the moving company's uniform.
"Morning." Sensei went in and took turns gently grabbing both me and Yuki by our shoulders. "How do you feel?"
"Better, thank you," Yuki nodded back; not exactly perkily, but definitely closer to her normal affect.
"Nothing untoward, I hope?"
I found myself sighing and sending a very expressive look in her direction.
"-is that the only thing on you mind?-"
"-Sensei, what example are you showing to your own students?-"
We both said that at once. All Hiratsuka-sensei could do in response was look sideways with a surprised face.
"Nice. I'm the horny teen now. You know your looks right now were identical, you damn lovebirds? Did you train? Tell me you trained."
Me and Yuki just looked at each other, then at her again.
"That was kinda obvious," I finally replied.
"And old," Yuki decided to add, touched her temples for a second and continued: "I strongly suggest we proceed with moving the boxes."
"Yeah… sure." Sensei turned to the movers. "Go on, I guess."
"Will do," one of them replied and headed to the stack.
"Hachi."
"What?" I turned back to see Yuki looking at me disapprovingly.
"Step away. Don't be a nuisance… at least any more than usual. It's not like you have to be entrusted with moving now."
"Oh here they go again," I heard Sensei mumble. "It's like they're married for three years already."
"At least I have enough stamina to actually carry stuff," I shot back automatically.
"… make it five years," one of the movers grumbled under his breath.
Behind me Yuki sighed and briefly leaned to my back.
"At least I know who I need when I come undone," she gently whispered, to which I turned back and gently stroke her head.
As the last box, the one with the kitchenware, was being carefully carried to the elevator, all three of us exited the now empty apartment. Yuki took out her keys to lock the door, but for some reason paused looking inside. Several seconds later she deeply bowed.
"Thank you for your hard work. Farewell."
And locked it, one last time.
A/N: Yay, I'm still alive! Just double workload and a minor procrastination bout and a tiny bit of Spring depression and... uhhhh... nevermind.