July 30th, 2019

Yosuke felt exceedingly stupid.

His hair had been pressed down flat against his scalp, giving him the distinct air of a used car salesman. The tuxedo he'd been forced into, while okay, had obviously fallen on the wrong side of their budget. His awkwardly lanky form (another great source of frustration for him -- he was twenty-four, for God's sake!) forced the sleeves to hang higher than intended while too-narrow shoulders only emphasized the glaring tailoring error. The jacket was used and had obviously been hemmed and rehemmed multiple times by primarily unskilled hands, leaving Kanji unable to lengthen it properly without tripping over other stitching.

He looked like an overgrown child playing like he was an adult and there wasn't a single thing Yosuke could do about it.

His only consolation -- a single, solitary hope that no one would look good in a suit like this -- was promptly shattered when a familiar figure slipped through the door to his room.

"You decent?" Souji asked, unnecessarily, while waltzing up to the mirror with a wide smile. Yosuke merely rolled his eyes at his best friend while tugging at the cuffs of his shirt, trying in vain to force everything to line up properly. He was forced to note, with considerable envy, that Souji looked fantastic in his lumpy thrift store tux.

Upstaged, even on his wedding day. Figures.

"Ha ha," he grumbled, not looking up at his friend beyond the initial cursory glance. Yosuke didn't even bother to censor the traces of bitterness bubbling up in his voice, "Didn't I ask you to go ask my father about-"

"Did it," Souji interrupted, smiling in that faint, strange way that put Yosuke a little on edge, "Got them right here." With minimal flourish, the ash-haired man pulled out a small box, turning it over carefully in his hands before flipping the top open. Two simple gold bands caught the light, shimmering ominously while Yosuke's stomach turned.

"You alright?" Souji asked, although the buzzing in Yosuke's skull made it sound like his friend was whispering through cotton. All the frazzled brunette could do was shake his head vaguely while Souji lowered him into one of the inn's overstuffed armchairs and made his way to the minibar.

"Do you want Second Maid or something a little stronger?" he asked, although after a beat he reached for the beer chilling near the back, despite Yosuke's lack of answer. They'd known each other long enough to have a handle on the other's favorite brand of tissue paper, let alone drink.

"Dude, don't…," he finished with a sigh, seeing the uselessness of his protest once the cool surface of the can was pressed into his hand. He popped the top, wiping some of the condensation on his hand off onto his pants, "I've got to pay for this now."

Souji sank down in the chair adjacent to Yosuke's, producing his wallet from inside his jacket. "Here," he smiled, holding out several hundred yen, "It's on me. Consider this my wedding present."

Yosuke scowled, but there was a faint note of amusement in his face -- one that gave way to a full on smile as he bat Souji's hand away and took a deep sip, "Nah, forget it. I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of eating out in my future. I should get used to overpriced drinks."

"Chie hasn't gotten any better then?" Souji frowned, faintly, "I offered to teach her, but she yelled me out of the kitchen."

"Just be thankful she's not catering this…'event'," Yosuke swallowed, unenthused air quotes held over his head in a feeble effort to minimize the step he was about to take, "She tried it, the first time our families met. I think my parents would have paid me not to marry her after that."

They shared a laugh, allowing a little nostalgia over what must have been the millionth mockery of Yosuke's wife-to-be's (that is, to-be-in-about-an-hour) culinary skills. Souji's voice still rang with laughter when he spoke, despite being markedly quieter, "And yet here you are."

Yosuke paused to adjust the cuff of his tuxedo for the hundredth time, "Weird, huh? I always thought…" He trailed off, hoping against hope they would lapse into a comfortable silence and he wouldn't have to finish his thought.

"Mm?" Souji murmured, curious but not invasively so. So much for silence.

"Oh, nothing serious, man," Yosuke dismissed by way of introduction, "It's just…I don't know, I figured you'd be in this suit instead of me." A pause. "I mean, not this suit, but you get what I'm saying."

"You thought I would be marrying Chie?" Souji asked, with the barest hint of teasing in his voice. Normally Yosuke would have taken his cue to let the conversation devolve into banter, but something at the back of his mind made him ignore the bait.

"You know what I mean, though, right?"

Souji's smile dropped a moment, although it seemed more in response to Yosuke's directness than the question itself. Still, he paused, oozing thoughtfulness and consideration -- just like he always did. Yosuke had to look away, fiddling with a tassel on his arm rest.

"I guess I just haven't found the right person yet," he finally explained, despite not looking thoroughly convinced of that himself. Yosuke was about to voice his own skepticism (after all, how could someone who could feasibly take anyone they wanted have trouble "finding" someone?), when Souji cut him off with a belated afterthought, "No, that's not it. It's more like…" He stopped, smiled thinly, then chuckled.

Yosuke was all for being the patient listener (although he was pretty new at it -- Souji had hogged all the experience in that department), but all the self control he had to spare couldn't prevent a curious, "…Like?" from leaving his lips. Souji didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, his smile grew a little.

"I don't want to get married," he finally shrugged, "Some people need it. I mean, I always knew you would get married someday--don't look so offended, it's really not a bad thing." Yosuke closed his mouth, letting half formed words of protest die on his lips while looking none too happy about it. "I doubt I would feel right marrying someone, anyway. I'm as good at getting people to love me as you are."

A soft silence hung in the air, broken only by the gentle scrape of a maid pulling her cart down the hall, and then it was Yosuke's turn to laugh. Small hitching giggles that turned into outright guffaws once Souji gave him permission with a smile. Several false starts and relapses into laughter later, Yosuke finally managed to speak semi-coherently, "You haven't been drinking this early, have you?" Another laugh. "No! Wait, I got it, Chie kicked you in the head for stepping on her train!"

Souji was laughing now too, quieter but no less genuine, "Not quite."

"Seriously, though," Yosuke continued, finally leaving his giggles behind in favor of a large smile he just couldn't seem to shake, "I thought you were going to reveal some big secret about yourself or something, man!"

"You don't believe me, then?" Souji asked, sounding a little more knowing that Yosuke would have normally liked.

"Dude," Yosuke smiled, suddenly aware of just how much more comfortable he was now than he had been before Souji came in, "If that was true, you wouldn't have been a best man three times already. Four, counting this one."

"That's not quite what I mean," he chuckled, examining his cuticles critically, "It's complicated. And you've got a wedding you're going to be late for."

Yosuke's smile waned just slightly as he watched Souji stand, dusting off his heinous suit (what had Chie's mother been thinking?) in his delightfully familiar, fussy way. Years ago, he might have pressed further, said 'fuck the wedding!' and forced Souji into an uncomfortable, ultimately pointless conversation. But back then, where Souji was concerned, Yosuke was all curiosity. He wanted to know everything, from why Souji dyed his hair to how it felt when he missed in battle. That's just what he figured best friends did -- tell each other everything, no matter what, in excruciating detail.

But he knew better now. Knew Souji better now. Knew him well enough to guess at what his best friend was trying to say. It was hard for him to understand, sure, if only because he was the exact opposite. Where Yosuke was an open book -- free for anyone to waltz in and leave their own mark -- Souji's pages were clamped firmly shut. Occasionally he would let a personal detail slip, but only to make you feel better about yourself or soothe your own fear. Of course it would be hard to accept the love he received as real -- if someone hardly knew you, how could they love you?

Souji was heading towards the door, but slowed his pace when he heard no footsteps behind him, "Yosuke?"

The brunette looked up, considering his best friend for a long moment. What Souji had said was mostly right, if he were to be honest. There were always going to be people who loved the mask Souji wore for them instead of Souji himself. But he wasn't completely right. Their first year as friends had been marked most notably by Yosuke's own issues, but here and there a memory would surface. Souji's shoulder pressed warm against his own while they sat alone in a hospital corridor, the crack and pop of joints when they wrestled by the Samegawa, the cooking lessons Yosuke all but forced Souji into giving him -- if only so he could get his best friend to actually do some grocery shopping as December wore on and Souji's face grew pale.

There were times after that too -- too many to count -- on the phone or after a lengthy separation, when the mask would slip and fall, leaving only Souji in its place. Yosuke loved those moments. Savored those moments. Let those moments carry him through times, quite like this, when Souji shut himself off.

"You're not getting cold feet again, are you?" Souji tried again, a faint smile playing across his lips. For his part, Yosuke finally got to his feet, taking a deep breath before offering a smile of his own.

"Nah, I'm done with that," he waved, gathering a few pieces of paper (his own pathetic attempt at vows) from the vanity before hurrying to join Souji by the door, "My groin would never recover if I left her at the alter."

"Point," Souji chuckled, resting a hand on the knob, "But if you're late, she's going to blame both of us, so I-"

He was cut off by the feel of arms encircling his waist, holding him in place while the door remained shut. There was no resistance from him, even when Yosuke's knuckles went white from gripping the fabric of his suit jacket. They stayed that way for a while, both of them clinging tightly to the other with nothing but the steady soundtrack of their own breath in each other's ears. It was Yosuke who finally pulled away, red faced and embarrassed, while Souji blinked at him in confusion -- an unspoken "what was that for?" echoing across his features.

"I…," Yosuke began, blushing anew, "It's stupid, but I just…"

It didn't take Souji long to get the hint, smile growing almost to the point of bursting. It was a good look on him, Yosuke had to admit.

"We should get going," he finally said, this time successfully opening the door without interruption.

"Dude," Yosuke scowled, looking every inch the petulant teenager he thought he had left behind in Inaba, "I was sort of trying to tell you something."

Souji pressed a hand to Yosuke's back, gently pushing him outside into the hall and down towards the lobby where a small crowd of friends, relatives, and relatives-to-be were already gathered to meet him.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered, leaning down next to his ear just before Yosuke was intercepted by one of his large, teary aunts, "I already know."

We are nearing the end! Thank you for all the amazing feedback -- it really brings a smile to my face. :D