"Permission to speak freely?"
Yoshino stirred from the introspective silence into which she had lapsed.
She looked around. The interior of the car was a world of contrasts: between the darkness reinforced by the shaded side windows, and the staccato lights of the city pouring in through the front windshield. At her right, Uchida watched her, her expression indiscernible in the gloom.
Yoshino sighed.
"You always have it, Arisawa," she said. "You know that."
"Formally, though?" he asked, not turning his eyes from the road, eyes shrouded by the cap he always wore.
"Then yes, formally," she said, hesitating only briefly.
Arisawa insisting on "permission" was never the start of a relaxing conversation.
"It was a terrible thing to do," he said, voice deliberately level.
Yoshino clenched her teeth.
"Obviously I know that," she said. "It wasn't exactly a paradigm of good decision-making. But what's done is done."
Arisawa shook his head slightly.
"I'm sure I don't need to explain to you all the reasons it wasn't a good idea, both for you and Uchida-san. But…"
He fell silent, and Yoshino wished it were possible to see his face directly to read his expression.
"It was a terrible shock, you know," he continued finally. "To her. To all of us. I told her she was wrong about you two, but I see now that I was being willfully blind. We all were."
He took a breath, gathering the willpower to say it.
"When you were a child, you once told me you wanted us to be your family. I don't know if you still think that, but I've certainly done my best, as much as possible."
He gathered his thoughts.
"For you to fall short would reflect on us—no, not just that. It would hurt us. We've been waiting for you to take on your family's mantle, to take the seat your father left so conspicuously empty, to make the Yoshino name great again. It was once a household name. Now it is an afterthought."
He paused.
"It's an exceedingly selfish thing to say," he continued. "But it's not just about you. I think you forget sometimes. Some of us have invested our lives here. I—"
He stopped, and Yoshino became suddenly aware that his voice, normally professional and detached, had been steadily growing more emotional.
"What does any of that even have to do with this?" Uchida began. "You can't—"
Yoshino cut her off with a hand gesture.
"I know," Yoshino responded. "I do forget, sometimes, but I think I'm still young enough that I can justify it, a little."
He didn't respond.
"You love her, don't you?" she asked quietly.
At her side, Uchida sucked in a sharp breath.
Her driver straightened his cap.
"Yes," he said. "But I don't delude myself."
He chuckled drily.
"How do I put this…" he began, taking a breath.
"There's someone in her heart already," he said, "and I know that, no matter what I do, her little girl will always be more important than me. I'm just an old codger who fell in love with the new hire."
Yoshino cast her eyes downward, so that she felt, rather than saw, him smile wanly.
"I'm okay with it, though," he finished. "What can I say?"
A few minutes passed in silence.
"If it's not too much to ask…" Uchida began.
Yoshino sat up and turned to look at her.
"What are you two talking about?" Uchida asked. "What is this about household names and all that?"
"You see?" Arisawa commented sourly. "The younger generation has no idea anymore."
"Alright, I'm sorry for cutting you off earlier," Yoshino said. "But there's a lot you don't know, still, I would have explained it to you earlier, but…"
She cleared her throat.
"I already told you about the will and all of that, so you should know that I can't wield my full inheritance without finding someone to marry," Yoshino said somberly and carefully. "But that's not all of it. It's only the start. I did some research when I found out about all this. Looked at some records, that sort of thing."
"The family businesses are collapsing," she continued. "They at least managed to tread water until the big downturn in the 80s, but since then, it's been nothing but slow disintegration. Red ink everywhere and, without leadership, the subsidiaries do nothing but backbite each other. A few have already gone bankrupt."
"It's a mess," she finished. "I'll be able to live comfortably no matter what happens, but I can't help but feel it's my responsibility, somehow."
Yoshino clasped her hands, kicking her heels together, feeling again that the world was too big for her.
"Many now ask: 'Where is the family? Where are the owners? How could they let it fall apart like this?'" Arisawa explained. "Only a few of the directors know the true state of things, or even whom among the family is still alive. The mistress's existence here is a well-kept secret. But even those who knew what's going on, those who know that all they have to rely on now is a fifteen-year-old girl from a degenerate family, are eager to see her take responsibility. They left us alone in the past, but the moment we mentioned that she wanted to see some records, we started receiving a flood of inquiries on her status, her health, her academics, things like that. It's been nothing but telephone call after telephone call. Some of them even asked for a personal meeting."
Yoshino heard Uchida inhale to say something.
"I've put them on hold, for now," Yoshino explained, before she could start. "They're desperate. The moment I'm old enough, they want me as a figurehead, even if it turns out that's all I'm good for. Corporate unity, for whatever that's worth."
"But even given all that, they're not likely to accept someone who doesn't even own anything in the companies involved," Arisawa continued. "It'd spark dissent. Ownership is necessary. And that requires—"
"—marriage," Yoshino finished. "I don't get any of it until I marry, because that's what the will says. And it's not just that. How many corporate leaders in Japan do you know who are female? The workers, the board, the media, will demand at least a husband, a male presence somewhere, to reassure them."
She swallowed.
"Even my parents' sudden reappearance might have something to do with this. They've never shown any signs of caring before, but why else would they suddenly show up, demand I transfer to a better school, demand I start scouting the marriage market? It's all rather too convenient."
She shook her head sadly.
"I don't really believe that," she said. "Somehow I can't see them caring about the family legacy, not after all that happened before. But then why? Is it what you suggested, that they remember me after all these years? That they care again? I'm not sure I want them to."
She looked up, at the sunroof.
"And that's how it is. Funny how, even in this day and age, people still believe in princes and scions. I really wish they didn't."
Uchida's expression was shrouded by the darkness.
"Do you think you can handle all that?" she asked. "I had no idea. It's—it's like…"
Her voice trailed off.
"I don't know," Yoshino said, looking out her window. "I don't know. But expectations are high."
She picked at a stitch in the leather seating with her fingernail.
"So many people are depending on me. I can't let them down. That's not who I am. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what my life will be like. Even if everything works out with the schools, in the long run, even if I stay here, I—I don't know how I can keep you."
Yoshino hoped that her bangs, carefully cultivated, were doing a good job of hiding her face.
"But I—" Uchida began. "I—I don't want—"
She stopped.
Yoshino knew what Uchida must fear: that Yoshino's life-course was already determined, and it had no room for a girl named Uchida Yuka. She didn't know how to prove that fear wrong.
"I wanted to tell you, earlier," Yoshino said, "but there was just so much, the sheer magnitude of it all. There was so much to tell, and I was so tired, and then you, uh—"
She hesitated, shifting uneasily.
"Well…you didn't really give me a chance to…what with the…well, since—"
Arisawa cleared his throat loudly, cannily realizing from Yoshino's tone of voice where the topic had gone.
"We're here," he said sharply, looking away to hide embarrassment. "Just a reminder."
The car had indeed been stopped for quite a while, Yoshino realized.
"There's no need for you to get off," Arisawa said, when Yoshino moved to unbuckle herself.
Her cowardly fears told her to do as Arisawa said, but how could she leave Uchida alone? How could she even consider something like that?
Why am I scared? What's wrong with me?
No. I dragged her into this. I won't let her suffer like this, not alone. I'll find a way to make it all better. Somehow.
She clenched her hands, painfully swallowing her anxiety.
"I'll be back soon," Yoshino said. "There's some things I need to say."
She could feel Uchida's eyes watching her, and was glad that she couldn't see them, that Uchida probably couldn't see the conflict on her face.
Arisawa turned in his seat to look at her, eyes glimmering.
"Alright," he said.
Uchida's father struggled against his wife's anger, and the weight of recent revelations.
"You mean to tell me you knew? That you were keeping it from me?" she demanded.
"No, of course not!" he shot back. "Are you paying attention at all? I told you. I had some concerns, I shared them with Yoshino-san's servant, we discussed it. That's all. I just thought it was suspicious, the way Yuka left today."
"So you discussed it with her before discussing it with me," she repeated bitterly. "And here I thought we were married with kids. But I guess I'm not important enough to discuss your concerns with."
"I did discuss it with you!" he said. "You said—"
"I thought you were joking!" she said. "That's what you made it seem like."
"Look, I just didn't want to be flinging unfounded suspicions around. Imagine if I had been wrong, then—"
"I would have overreacted, is that it? I would have acted all hysterical, gone about it with no tact—are you stupid? I told you before, stop disrespecting me like—"
"Well, maybe, if you'd stop losing your calm like this," he began, his voice escalating. "Then I would—"
She held up a hand to silence him, ears pricking at the sound of the lock in the front door turning. He stopped immediately.
"What the hell do we do?" she asked, eyes meeting his, their mutual anger dissolving instantly. "We spent so long arguing about this that we're not even ready."
"We do what comes naturally," he said decisively, turning to head towards the doorway.
Because I have no idea what else to do, he appended privately.
For a moment, they were able to hold on to absurd hope.
After all, no one stood waiting at the door for Uchida to come home. They opened the door to a completely empty sitting room and kitchen. Perhaps Uchida's parents hadn't been informed after all, and Yoshino's household had preserved secrecy. If that were really true, all that was necessary was to finagle an explanation about why Uchida was home suddenly, and with Yoshino, to boot. Yes, they stretched plausibility more and more with each lie, but any amount of suspicion from her parents was better than the reality of what could lie in front of them.
And then her parents emerged from their bedroom, and their faces told them to lose all hope.
Uchida dropped her bag—packed by Yoshino's maid full of her jackets and boots—next to the door, bracing for the worst.
"You've got quite the nerve to show up here," her mother said, watching Yoshino intensely, voice as cold as icicles.
Uchida was visibly frightened of her mother's face, which displayed a frozen anger she hadn't seen since…ever.
Nonetheless, she swallowed hard and spoke up.
"L—look, it's not her fault. I—"
"Shut up," her mother snapped, and she recoiled—but not enough to evade the woman's grasp.
Her mother grabbed her by the arm and pulled her bodily behind her.
Yoshino dug through her emotional reserves, keeping her face expressionless.
Her father appeared over his wife's other shoulder.
"It is pretty bold of you," he said, "to show up and expect us to tolerate you, I've got to admit that. Don't tell me you were expecting to stay the night here. That's just plain unrealistic."
"Hate me if you want," Yoshino said, managing even to sound arrogant. "Place all your blame on me. It's better that way. This is entirely my fault. Remember that. "
"No!" Uchida said, shoving her mother aside, trying to step forward. "That's not why you're here! Look—"
She turned to face her parents, as if she could somehow shield Yoshino from their condemning looks.
Yoshino held her gaze fixed with effort. Her previous statement had been half-hearted, because she knew Uchida would never stand for it. Still, it was worth trying.
Uchida gestured at Yoshino with one hand.
"She's here because she cares. She's not a bad girl. I—If I had noticed sooner—"
She struggled with the words, voice shaking, and looked down. Thus, she didn't see her parents eyes soften, infinitesimally, before hardening again.
But Yoshino did.
They still love her. They are who I thought they were. I guess that's good enough.
She turned to leave.
"I'm not welcome here," she said, walking towards the door. "See you tomorrow, Yuka . Be well."
"Wait!" Uchida exclaimed, turning, restrained by her father's hand on her shoulder.
It turned out to be unnecessary, as Yoshino spun immediately back around and grabbed Uchida's hands within hers, uncaring of the audience, regretful she hadn't mounted the courage to say what she wanted to say before leaving the car.
"Yuka, whatever happens," she said, words rushed. "I promise you I'll think of a way out of all this. Somehow. That's—"
Making a pained expression, she struggled to continue, before giving up and dashing for the door.
Uchida was left blinking in her wake.
Finally, she nodded to herself.
See you tomorrow.
"Young mistress?" Arisawa asked, a minute or so into the drive onward.
"Yes?" Yoshino asked, looking down at her knees. The dark gloom suited her mood perfectly.
"Are you alright?"
"I am," she said, hesitating only slightly.
There was a period of silence which Yoshino was perfectly happy to let stretch on.
"Are you sure?" Arisawa asked finally.
"Yes," Yoshino said, this time decisively.
She waited to see if he would say anything further.
" Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but honestly, I'd feel much better if you started crying," Arisawa said. "That's what I would expect, after all. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
He risked a glance backward, his expression making it clear that he was trying to lighten the mood.
Yoshino smiled slightly.
"As if I would cry in front of you," she said.
"That's hurtful," Arisawa said flippantly. "Consider my feelings. Why, I remember when you were young, er—"
Arisawa stopped himself, his attempt at cheering her up running into a brick wall.
"I never did cry, did I?" Yoshino said, slightly mockingly.
"Only twice," Arisawa said, with a trace of sadness. "And I remember both times."
"And that's how it will stay," Yoshino asserted.
The car slowed to a stop at a signal light. Yoshino expected the conversation to end there, but Arisawa surprised her.
"You were such a strange child," he said. "I don't think I've ever heard of any like you."
"I wasn't exactly happy about being different," Yoshino commented.
Another long pause.
"I always thought you were unnaturally calm," Arisawa said. "I used to wonder if you were really that calm, or if you were just bottling it up. I expected it to all explode some day. I waited years and years, and it never happened. I guess I was wrong."
He hesitated a moment.
"But are you really alright?" he asked. "You're under a tremendous amount of stress."
"You want to know why I was so calm?" Yoshino asked, addressing only the first issue. "That was why Yuka was there. She's stress relief."
Yoshino paused thoughtfully.
"Any innuendo you might see there was unintentional, yet probably still true," she added.
Arisawa snorted.
"Times change, don't they?" he said. "My parents would have locked me up for years for vaguer implications than that. Now, in some countries, it's not even all that eye-raising."
"There's no guarantee that isn't happening to Yuka right now as we speak," Yoshino rebuked.
"Right, right, that was careless of me," Arisawa apologized.
Arisawa flashed a dirty look at a driver who had cut him off. Yoshino couldn't say she blamed the other man; Arisawa was driving at a snail's pace.
"And these eccentric friends of yours," Arisawa said a moment later. "Is it a coincidence they're all so strange?"
"What is it, Arisawa?" Yoshino asked, annoyed and slightly worried. "Why are we sitting here, digging around in my psychology? What kind of question is that to ask?"
It was unlike him to be so rudely inquisitive.
Arisawa stiffened, picking up on her displeasure.
"I apologize," he said, voice suddenly torn, "but I'm worried for you. I just want to make sure you're alright. The pressure you're under should break a girl your age, yet you keep insisting you're fine. I'd be a lot more confident in that if I understood why."
She was surprised as he jerked the car over to the curb suddenly, pulling over, even though they were nowhere near their destination.
He put both his gloved hands on the top of the steering wheel, abandoning his driving position.
"I'm just trying to understand you," he said, turning to look at her. "Monitoring you is one of my secondary duties, but even if it weren't for that…"
He shook his head ruefully.
"None of us understands you well enough to be confident in your happiness. The Boss loves you as her own daughter, yet you remain a closed book, even to her. I just want to understand you."
He stared forward.
"I don't understand what's with you and Uchida-san. I don't understand what you think about your future. I don't understand why it's so hard for you to speak to your parents. If I had an understanding, perhaps I could help. Perhaps she could help."
Yoshino stayed silent.
"Right now the Boss is still too confused to think clearly, but when she finally does, she'll be as worried as I am. I'm confident in that. And then she will want to ask the same questions."
"You don't have to talk to me," he added, a moment later. "But please, at least talk to her. Seriously talk to her. She is your mother, for all intents and purposes. Despite all that happened today, she's still there for you. I know that it is difficult to see how things will be, after today, but that's still true. Maybe, somewhere in all this, there's a way out."
"I have a hard time imagining one," Yoshino said bitterly, finally.
She took a breath.
"I love her as a mother, too," Yoshino said. "You know that. That's why it hurts so much, that all this had to happen. But if I understood myself well enough to answer your questions, that alone would solve much of my problems."
Arisawa turned, watching her.
"But alright," Yoshino concede, before he could say anything. "I'll try asking her for advice. I promised tomorrow at noon, didn't I?"
She smiled painfully.
"Thank you," Arisawa said.
It was Touma herself who opened the door, thankfully. They watched each other, Touma's face silhouetted by the lights behind her.
Touma knew to expect her, of course. Yoshino owned a cell phone.
"You'll have to forgive my brothers," Touma said, as Yoshino crossed the threshold. "You came rather late, so they're asleep."
"It's alright," Yoshino said.
Touma grabbed her bags, despite her protests.
"We also can't share rooms, unfortunately," Touma said, leading the way up the wooden stairs. "You see, I'm banned from sharing rooms with any girls."
"I see," Yoshino said, after a pause.
"So I take it you've both got some parent issues?" Touma asked, looking back with one eye.
Yoshino stayed silent.
"Ah, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want," Touma amended hastily, as they reached the top.
"They took it about as well as you'd expect," Yoshino said.
Touma stopped, pushing open a door leading to the small guest room.
"How bad?" Touma asked, watching her from the corner of her eye.
"Oh, I've got parent issues alright," she said, brushing by Touma into the room. "Among other things, I can't decide how many I have, or even who they are."
Touma looked at her with a puzzled expression, but Yoshino wasn't going to enlighten her.
"It's nothing I can talk about," she said, placing her bags on the floor near the bed.
"Do you want to talk anyway?" Touma asked. "About other things, that is. It's not as if any of my brothers are actually awake to check on what I'm doing."
Yoshino thought about it.
"Why not?" she said. "But, honestly, the only thing I can see you maybe helping with is in dealing with Uchida's parents."
Touma smiled.
"Even that is something," she said, turning back for the door. "Expect me, then. Unlike you, I'm polite enough to ask first."
Yoshino snorted.
"There's extra towels in the hall cupboard if you need them," Touma said, waving her hand in the right direction.
The door closed with a thud.
A moment later, Yoshino collapsed on the bed, turning to look at the ceiling.
I have no idea what to do, do I?
Uchida swallowed hard before turning around.
"I'll just go straight to my room then," she asserted meekly, without daring to glance up at her parents faces.
She headed for the back of the house, walking briskly.
She only got three steps before feeling her father grab her shoulder.
She let out a breath. Well, it had been worth a shot.
"Don't think you can get off that easily, Uchida," her father said, scowling down at her. "We're talking about this."
Uchida turned and looked at their faces. Yes, they were angry, but not quite as fiercely as they had been earlier.
It occurred to her that they had been acting a little, to scare Yoshino.
…which didn't help her at all, considering they still looked quite angry.
I'm still going to get my head chewed off, she thought morbidly.
Her mother gestured with a hand, and the three filed over to the sitting room, seating themselves carefully around the kotatsu in the middle.
Uchida looked around meekly, at her father studying her with his eyes, and at her mother, looking at her as if she were some exotic animal.
It was not a pleasant experience.
"How much do you know?" she asked quietly, finally.
It's a great probing question, Yoshino had said once, long ago, drilling her on the finer points of arguing with her parents. People are always more than willing to yell at you about just what exactly you did wrong—and then you can make sure not to mention anything they don't talk about.
That had been for much more innocent topics, though.
"That you lied to us about where you were going," her mother said, falling into the question easily. "That you risked your life in the snow and cold. That Yoshino's servant found the two of you in bed together, and I don't mean sleeping."
That's basically everything, Uchida thought, grimacing.
Uchida briefly considered pointing out that what her mother had said was an exaggeration: that, technically, there had only been really strong circumstantial evidence. There was no point to it, however; she wasn't going to deny it, since they wouldn't believe her, so why waste everyone's time on technicalities?
Her mother leaned forward onto her elbows, putting her head in both hands, and Uchida could see that she was not merely angry, but worried and confused.
"Why?" her mother asked. "Even though I said all that to Yoshino-chan, it can't possibly have been all her, could it? So why?"
Her mother's eyes were beseeching, almost begging Uchida to say that no, it really was all Yoshino's malign influence.
"Of course not," Uchida said painfully, knowing she couldn't avoid telling the truth. "There's no way it could be."
"I don't understand," her mother said, to herself more than to Uchida. "Is there something we did wrong? I never imagined—my own daughter—"
She made an inchoate gesture.
Her father looked at his wife, then back at her.
"What were you thinking, doing something like this?" he asked, eyes hard.
Uchida looked down at her hands, and made a show of shrugging.
"You know how it's been between us, these past couple of days. I was only trying to do what you told me. I snuck in, and I made her tell me. I know it was risky, but I did everything I could to avoid danger. I even took mom's cell phone, just in case. I know there's reception up there."
To accentuate this last point, she pulled the missing cell phone out of her pocket and placed it on the table.
"That's what I thought," he said. "And that, on its own, was acceptable, though I never would have admitted it. But you know that's not what I was talking about."
"What do you want me to say?" Uchida said miserably, after a moment. "It's not something that's very much about thinking. It's just what we wanted to do. I was just so happy after making up with her, and then…"
Her voice trailed off, and she squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her hands to keep the sudden memories from overwhelming her.
She took a deep breath. She couldn't let blame accrue to Yoshino, regardless of what it mean for her. Besides that, her parents also deserved to know a bit more of the truth, if only to prevent any misconceptions.
"For what it's worth, I started it this time," she said, looking at the ground next to her. "So don't blame her."
"This time?" her mother asked incredulously.
Uchida nodded, eyes shut.
"So there must be some real lust involved here," her father said thoughtfully, his sonorous voice ringing in her ears. "It can't be just a one-time experiment."
"How could you suggest something like that?" her mother asked.
Uchida stayed silent, out of both mortification and fear, but managed to turn her head back to watch her father with wary eyes.
"Let me check right to the chase, then," he said, pressing onward. "Are you attracted to boys?"
"Of course she is!" her mother said, glaring at him with sharp eyes. "She's the one who's always joking about getting a boyfriend and things like that. Don't you remember the prince?"
"I don't know," Uchida contradicted. "I've never had any crushes, nor have I ever really been attracted to any of the boys in my class. All those jokes—I was just playing around, really."
She tugged at her pants nervously.
"I've gotten my share of love letters," she explained, "but I've never seriously considered any them. None of those boys really interested me, so I turned them down. It was fun to talk about and gossip but I never really felt the attraction, even to the ones my classmates drooled over. It was just a game, really. You should have seen their faces when I turned down that one soccer player…"
She let her voice trail off. Despite the situation, it felt good to get it off her chest, all these thoughts she had been keeping from everyone—even her mother, even Yoshino.
"Sometimes, I wondered about it," she continued, looking up warily. "I thought about asking you, but I really didn't want to. Honestly, I never thought about it too deeply. I just assumed I wasn't old enough, or I wasn't ready."
"But if I'm old enough to lust after my own best friend, then how can I not be old enough?"
She swallowed, letting the question hang in the air, the two of them studying her with strange, pained looks, her mother especially.
It took her a moment to realize what it was.
Her mother was looking at her with the same look she used on her friends, the first time Uchida brought them to the house. It was a searching look, one meant to evaluate someone she had never met before. Here, it was spliced with hurt, as if she couldn't believe that she had to look at her own daughter with those eyes.
Uchida had never seen it directed at her before, and it tore her to see.
"I've heard enough," her father said suddenly, decisively, grabbing both their attentions.
"You're grounded for a week," he said, "for lying to us and pulling a stunt like that. And another week for sleeping with someone without, you know, at least hinting it to us or something. I'd make some comment about using protection or something like that, but obviously that isn't relevant here. Let's be thankful for that, at least."
He spoke levelly, and her eyes were firm, but his fingers tapped the tabletop nervously.
"As for Yoshino, we can't realistically keep you two from seeing each other at school," he said. "But no more of this nonsense of sleeping together, or even in the same room. If she visits, you're going to be sleeping in our room. That's if we let her visit. Don't expect much freedom of motion."
"Are you crazy?" her mother said. "How can we just leave it at something like that?"
"Do you have a better idea?" he snapped, revealing a bit of emotion. She glared at him.
"I'm sorry," he said, a moment later. "But do you? What would you suggest? Locking her in her room and transferring her to an inferior school? Sending her to live with your sister? Would you be happy with that? I wouldn't."
Uchida watched them stare at each other.
"Of course not," her mother said. "But I can't—I just feel like we should be doing something. I have no idea. We—"
"We'll think about it later, okay?" he said, patting her on the back, and the woman nodded.
Then he turned back to Uchida, and took a moment to formulate his words.
"I don't have to explain it, do I?" he continued. "Something like this is obviously unacceptable. Think about us. Think about Yoshino. Think about yourself. Think about the consequences. Long-term, it can't happen."
"I don't even know what you're talking about," Uchida said. "Long-term what? What could possibly follow? Where could we go with this?"
She spoke bitterly, remembering what was expected of Yoshino. Marriage, a future in the public eye—where did Uchida fit into that? Nowhere that she could tell.
But her father was talking.
"—and I don't know, try to give the boys in your class another chance. Who knows? Maybe you just haven't been looking."
Uchida was filled with sudden, unaccountable rage.
"Screw them," she said. "What does it even matter? So what if Yoshino and I have a little fun for a few years? You said it yourself: there's no risk of anything. It's not like I can stay with her. Keep your damned suggestions to yourself!"
It was wholly uncalled for, but she had nowhere else to dump her emotions.
Her mother slammed the table with an open palm, in preparation to rebuke her, but Uchida didn't give her a chance, getting up and storming out of the room.
As she walked, all she could think of was what Yoshino had said, about shielding her from Yoshino's problems, about how Yoshino wanted to spare her the pain. She hadn't fully understood, then.
She understood now.
You promised, she thought. Now let's see you do it.
"Though for what it's worth, I have met them," Touma said, kneeling on the bed. "They don't seem all that rigid. I doubt they're going to send her away. You're at least safe from that."
"That's good to know," Yoshino said drily. Even though she hadn't really expected much from Touma, she had been hoping for a slightly more informative answer than "It's really hard to tell how they'll respond to something like that, even when you know them. You just have to kind of find out."
"Persistence is helpful, I guess," Touma continued, oblivious to her disenchantment with Touma's advice. "If they don't draw a hard line and hire someone to stalk you twenty-four-seven, it'll be nigh impossible for them to control her life to an unlimited degree."
"Right," Yoshino said.
Touma watched her, and Yoshino chose to watch her foot dangling over the side of the bed.
"I suppose I should tell you, since you'll find out anyway," Yoshino said drearily. "I'm suspended for the rest of the week."
She could feel the bed shift as Touma stirred in surprise.
"Suspended? You? Why?" she asked.
Yoshino stayed silent longer than was necessary.
"Some boy insulted Uchida," she said. "I snapped. I'm lucky I didn't send him to the hospital. You know how it is."
She waited for Touma's reaction. Touma, out of everyone she knew, probably would be the one most likely to "know how it is".
Touma shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I do understand, but…it's just impossible to imagine you snapping at anything. Ever. Frankly, I'd have an easier time picturing Makoto or Uchida going crazy. It's just…wow. What did he say?"
"It seems some interesting rumors have been traversing the school about us," Yoshino said, studying her fingernails. "He merely used them to give vent to some related insults. Had I kept my head, I could probably have gotten him suspending just for saying it."
Touma digested that in silence.
"As for snapping," she said, gathering up her knees so she could hug them. "It's merely a side of me I never show anyone."
"No, it's totally understandable," Touma interjected, sensing the bleakness of her mood. "You're not a bad person or anything."
Yoshino looked at Touma, and Touma recoiled slightly at the look there.
"You think so?" she asked.
"Y—yeah," Touma responded.
"That's good, I guess," Yoshino said, going back to staring at her feet.
Perhaps a minute passed, Touma's quiet breaths punctuating the air.
"Well, maybe it's not all bad," Touma ventured.
"How do you figure?" Yoshino asked, watching her from the corner of her eye.
"Well, you know, you might be able to use the time to think," Touma said, raising a finger to accentuate her point, clearly making it all up on the spot just to keep Yoshino talking. "I mean, it was surprisingly useful for me to get some time to think, that time I stayed at your place. It really made things clearer."
"As I recall, you spent most of the time sleeping," Yoshino said drolly, turning to face her completely.
"No, I mean, I, uh, well, I definitely did some thinking while there," Touma responded weakly, clearly unprepared for such a direct rebuttal.
"So, think of it like a vacation, huh?" Yoshino said.
"I guess," Touma hedged.
Yoshino lapsed into thought.
Touma waited a moment.
"Will you be okay here alone?" she asked.
"Probably," Yoshino said.
"Don't be naïve," Yoshino interrupted, spotting Touma opening her mouth. "Don't offer to stay. Really. Think about it."
"I wasn't—" Touma began, clearly lying.
"Tomorrow is a big day. You should get some sleep," Yoshino said. "I mean it."
Touma watched her carefully.
"Alright," Touma said, a moment later, getting up off the bed. "Good night then. You should sleep too."
"Good night."
Yoshino spent the night staring at the ceiling, the gears of her mind turning and turning, but unable to generate an answer.
Yoshino took a deep breath, standing in front of the impassive wooden door.
It was noon the next day. As promised, she was back. Arisawa, normally an ever-present shadow, was conspicuously missing; she had sent him on a series of long, pointless errands, hinting rather blatantly that he didn't actually need to finish any of them, so long as he was somewhere else for a while. He got the message.
It was an interesting feeling, roaming the halls of her mansion again after what had happened last night. Though she was sure none of the people involved had spoken a word about what happened, she knew that the remaining staff had more than enough information to piece together the story, especially given how loud they had been talking the night before.
Though she had tried to appear nonchalant, she had carefully studied the reactions of the servants she passed. Some made no attempt to hide their curiosity, studying her just as carefully. Others made a good show of pretending that everything was normal. A few showed signs of trying to avoid her, but that could have been natural caution—she had been practically breathing fire the night before. It was far too early to tell if there were going to be problems.
She stroked the door with her left hand. Her chief servant's bedroom.
So many memories…
As a child, the room had been her default source of comfort whenever she had been struck by one of her periodic bouts of loneliness. The woman never questioned her when she appeared, something which Yoshino appreciated, but she had always felt the woman's eyes on her, wondering what tore at her ward's heart.
To be perfectly honest, she had never really stopped the habit; she had only slowly transferred her dependence over to someone else. That way, at least from the outside, it appeared that she had conquered her demons.
Today the door appeared only as an impassive barrier, one that she feared to cross.
Maybe I shouldn't have insisted on meeting here, she thought.
"Nervous?" Nakanawa asked, appearing at her side.
Yoshino startled, then looked up, at the slightly lined face of her personal handmaid. A title that had been granted when she had first moved here, as a reward for long service, it meant less than might be expected. It was supposed to mean that she was a personal assistant, brushing Yoshino's hair, carrying her bags to school, helping dress her, things of that sort.
Some of these tasks Yoshino had never asked for; others had been long ago absorbed by her de facto mother. Instead, to Nakanawa it meant a higher salary and a slightly subtler role; besides performing odd tasks around the house, she was the one who discreetly took care of Yoshino's discarded laundry and tidied her room when she was away. She anticipated Yoshino's needs, showing up with Earl Grey when she was doing homework, appearing with a jacket whenever Yoshino headed for a doorway, coordinating meals with the kitchen. She was also uncannily good at guessing when Yoshino was craving sweets, especially when Yoshino had decided to control herself by not saying anything.
In short, she made sure Yoshino's life was never inconvenient.
"Of course," Yoshino said, going back to staring at the doorknob pensively.
"Say, Nakanawa," she began, interrupting Nakanawa, who had been about to say something.
"Yes?" the woman responded when Yoshino didn't continue.
"What do you think of me?" Yoshino asked quietly. "For disappointing her expectations like this. For everything."
Nakanawa waited a moment before speaking, thinking over her words carefully.
"To be honest, I should confess something first."
Yoshino looked up with mild surprise.
Nakanawa looked away.
"The fact is, I've known for a quite a while," she admitted. "I don't know precisely how long it's been going on, but at least two years."
Yoshino's expression changed to one of total surprise.
Nakanawa met Yoshino's eyes, then smiled broadly.
"You really thought you could fool your handmaid?" she said teasingly, trying to dispel the tension. "It's practically my job to read your mind. I make your bed and do your laundry. Trust me. It wasn't that hard."
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Yoshino asked, voice sounding uncertain, worried, and slightly betrayed.
Nakanawa dropped her faux-careless attitude abruptly.
"I've been here longer than anyone," she said, avoiding Yoshino's gaze. "I was there when you were born, and to see your nursemaid get fired. I remember what you were like before Uchida-chan arrived. I was one of the ones who tried so hard to make you happy. The last thing I'd want to do is take that away from you. I knew that, someday, it would all come out and there'd be a reckoning. I just thought that, for now, there was no need to ruin things by telling anyone what I knew."
"You could have told me, at least," Yoshino commented bitterly.
"I didn't want to embarrass you. I knew you were ashamed of it."
Yoshino fell into a thoughtful silence.
Nakanawa inclined her head, gesturing at the closed door.
"My job is much easier than hers," she said. "She has to worry about your personal development, and your future, and raising you to be a strong woman. Things like that. I just have to keep you comfortable and, as much as within my power, happy. I won't judge. I won't ever judge."
A moment later, Yoshino's head snapped up, her eyes demanding and inquisitive.
"But you're a mother too, aren't you?" she demanded. "You should have some idea of how she feels. Tell me."
Yoshino waited impatiently as Nakanawa pondered her answer.
"We all see reflections of ourselves in our children," she said carefully. "We love our children for who they are, but we all dream of who they could be. Unfairly or not, we place our aspirations upon them. I doubt she's disgusted with you, or condemns you. But you've shaken her dream of the future, and that can take a lot to recover from."
"Remind her why she loves you. That's my advice."
Nakanawa paused, then nodded to herself.
"Now if you'll excuse me, my guess is you'll want some tea and snacks after all this, so I'll go arrange that."
She turned to go.
"Nakanawa," Yoshino interrupted.
"What is it?"
"How are things?" Yoshino asked. "I feel bad that I never ask, despite everything you do for me. How is the family?"
Nakanawa smiled slightly, closing her eyes.
"Fine, more or less. Nothing much to report. I don't see them as much I'd like, since I'm stuck up here—no offense. But uh…well, if you want news, apparently Ta-kun is working up the courage to ask some girl out in person and keeps asking me for advice on how to do it."
She sighed, pressing her face into a hand.
"I don't know why he's so fixated on the girl. She ignores his love letters and probably ignores his very existence. Frankly, I'm not even sure how I feel about a relationship at his age. I wish he'd at least tell me who she is, but he's so secretive about it…"
Yoshino was sorry she asked.
"Well, I didn't really get the best impression of him when I met him…" Yoshino commented, finding an interesting wall to look at.
Nakanawa seemed to snap back awake.
"Well, yes," she said, grimacing. "Wow, you still remember that? I'm so, so sorry about that. But that was years ago, and I told you he's sorry."
"Right," Yoshino said drily.
"Well anyway," Nakanawa said, after an awkward moment. "Typical teenager stuff. I'm sure you're absolutely fascinated. I'll stop boring you and go make that tea, but you—"
She stuck a finger into Yoshino's forehead to accentuate her point.
"—need to stop procrastinating and open the door already."
Nodding to herself, she turned to leave.
"Nakanawa," Yoshino interrupted again.
"Like I said—" Nakanawa began.
"No snacks," Yoshino said. "Just the tea. Really."
Nakanawa narrowed her eyes at her, peering into her face.
"You'll want the snack," she concluded finally. "I'm thinking some French cookies today. With chocolate. The chef's very proud of them. You'll love it, Yo-chan, I promise."
Without excusing herself this time, she walked away briskly.
"But I'm telling you—" Yoshino began, raising a finger.
"Not listening~" Nakanawa said in a sing-song voice.
Yoshino watched her walk away, sighed, then turned back to the door.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come in," the voice said. "It's not locked."
She turned the doorknob and stepped in, closing the door behind her.
"Who were you talking to out there?" her servant asked, face mild, walking up to meet her.
"Nakanawa," Yoshino said. "She wanted to talk."
Well, it wasn't a lie, and she doubted it was possible to hear any details through the door.
"I see," the woman said.
Yoshino stepped forward and surprised her with an embrace, the kind of which she hadn't given for years. She wasn't short enough to bury her head into the woman's chest anymore, but this was close enough.
"What is this?" her servant asked, surprised and suspicious.
"Psychology," Yoshino said, using her grasp to pull the woman in the direction of the bed.
"And I guess that's why you asked to meet here instead of in the office," the woman added, not really resisting. "I should never have agreed to that."
"That's right," Yoshino agreed, using her body weight to drag the other person down, collapsing them both onto the bed. "Mother."
"You're not even being close to subtle," her mother snorted, sitting back up straight with one forceful motion, "daughter. And I told you to never call me that."
Yoshino didn't respond to that, instead burying her face into her mother's shoulder and hair. Surprisingly, the woman acceded, embracing her back for a moment before letting go.
"I'm not that easily manipulated," she said, pulling back and looking Yoshino severely in the eye. "But you knew that, didn't you?"
Yoshino nodded.
The woman sighed, and it was as if the weight of her burdens was suddenly visible. She no longer looked stern and composed, but instead stressed and confused.
"To think that just recently I was worrying about you bringing a boy home, and what I would do if that happened," she said. "I had no idea how I would deal with such an unsuitable match. I even took the time to grill Yuka on who there might be. How naïve."
She said the last two words with disgust, but Yoshino went with the flow as best she could.
"Did she mention anyone?" she asked, buying some time.
"No, not really," the woman said blankly, looking at her fingernails. "Maybe some boys with crushes, but it didn't seem like you were interested at all."
Wait, what? Yoshino thought.
"That loose-lipped little—" Yoshino began, raising a fist.
"Yoshino," her mother interrupted, grabbing her shoulder. Yoshino looked up, eyes wide, dreading the moment.
"It's not that I was really that clueless," the woman said, looking into her eyes. "You might not be as open with me as I'd like, but certain things I can tell. I know my own daughter—or I thought I did. I could tell when you were looking at her in that way. I knew you were tempted. Why else would I have spent so long trying to get you to go to those social events? You know, the trips to Hawaii and such."
"You wanted me to get into one of those social circles, and find some suitable male friends," Yoshino said with distaste, looking away.
"My heart wasn't in it either," her mother said. "But what else was I supposed to do? You know the issues involved as well as I do, and I don't like it any more than you do. But what else is reasonable? Who knows? Maybe if you just gave some of them a chance…"
The woman shook her head, as if to shake off the side topic.
"I should have put a stop to the sleeping together business years ago," her mother said regretfully, "but I was too scared of the effect it would have on you. I know how dependent you are on her."
Yoshino looked up at the woman from the corner of her eye.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked.
"I thought I understood you," her mother said, ignoring the question. "I thought that no matter how tempted you were, how much you wanted to, you would never do it. I don't have to explain to you why it was a bad idea, both for you and for her. You know very well. That's the kind of the girl I raised."
Yoshino looked up in surprise at the fierce tone of voice, and found the woman looking at her accusingly.
"Why would let yourself do this?" her mother, eyes quavering. "Is this what I taught you? Is it?"
Yoshino stared back, mind working to formulate a response, but her mother spoke first, eyes averted.
"I wanted you to be educated, well-spoken, and strong. Brilliant and unbreakable. Just like the Old Man would have wanted. I wanted you to be capable of taking on the immense burden of being this family's heir. I wanted to be the one to finally raise a Yoshino worthy of the name. Is it a curse? Must they all have some vice they can't resist? I thought you could do it, but—"
"Mother!" Yoshino snapped, and the woman turned instantly to look at her again.
Yoshino took a breath, and spoke carefully.
I have to do this.
"I thought so too," she said, softly. "I thought I could make myself so worthy of admiration. But it turns out I couldn't sacrifice this. Not this. I wanted to do what you said, but I couldn't. I'm just not that perfect."
She took another breath.
"All those things you said, about brilliance and strength—those are valuable in their own right, but so is happiness. It turns out, I can't be happy without her."
She swallowed.
"I can't even explain properly what it was like, meeting her for the first time. She was the first child I met who didn't let who I was affect her. She didn't make fun of me, try to treat me differently, or pester me about what it was like having no parents. She was just there, and she worked so, so hard to talk to me, that I—"
She closed her eyes briefly, to hold her composure.
"Looking back, I can see that she can't have been the only one worth talking to, but she was the only one persistent enough to break through. I was so grateful, and once I met her, I started to admire how happy and pure her life was. She never thought the same things I did, never said the cynical things I did, hated no one."
"You were too smart a child to be abandoned like that," the woman across from her said. Her mother's eyes were misty, but Yoshino was too deep in her own story to notice.
"Maybe it was something like that," Yoshino agreed absently. "Sometimes I wonder what I would have become like without her."
Yoshino shook her head to clear it.
"I don't know when that gratefulness and admiration caused me to fall in love, but I suspect it happened almost the moment I met her," she said. "There's nothing wrong with a platonic love like that. But the obsession, the time I spent with her, all of that—"
Yoshino took another breath, aware that she was losing her calm.
"I don't know when I started to lust after her," she said, avoiding her mother's gaze. "It was gradual. I didn't even know what was happening. Maybe I should have asked, but I didn't how to bring it up. How was I supposed to admit that I found it fascinating to watch her without her shirt? How was I supposed to talk about something embarrassing like that?"
Yoshino paused, then pressed on.
"It was a stupid idea," she said. "But I've always been curious why adults seemed to find so much enjoyment in alcohol. I couldn't stand not knowing. So I snuck some of the alcohol from the New Years party two years ago, and convinced Yuka to try it with me."
Yoshino didn't even want to glance at her mother's face.
"It had the results you'd expect," Yoshino said.
"Want to hear a secret?" Uchida asked, leaning in close to Yoshino's face.
"What?" Yoshino asked, feeling more uncomfortable than she wanted to admit by Uchida's proximity.
"To be honest, I don't even see what the big deal is, about boys," Uchida said, slurring the words slightly, and making a wild dismissive gesture with her hand. "Everyone makes such a big deal about it, and yeah, it's embarrassing to talk about dirty things. But that's because of how embarrassing it sounds! Not because I want to do it at all. I don't see where the appeal is. Oh, wow, it's so hot in here. Can't you turn the heater down or something? Why did I let you convince me to try this stuff?"
Uchida pulled loose yet another button from the top of her nightshirt, then refilled her cup on the stand, drinking half of it.
"I couldn't control myself," Yoshino continued.
Yoshino swallowed sharply, trying to avert her eyes without being obvious about it.
"Are—are you sure you aren't just too young to understand?" she asked, trying to mask with levity how flushed she was feeling, at the combination of Uchida's exposure and the topic of conversation.
"That's just the thing," Uchida asserted. "I do understand. I, er—"
Uchida coughed in embarrassment.
"Alright, this is definitely a secret," Uchida said.
Yoshino nodded, breathing heavily.
"She basically admitted she wouldn't resist it if I tried," Yoshino tried to justify.
"Sometimes I think about stuff like that," Uchida said. "And it's…fun just like people say. It's just that, I can't understand why the boy is there. If I focus on myself, then it's fun, but if I try to put any of the boys I know there, it just makes me cold. I must be doing something wrong…"
Uchida looked up.
"Is something wrong? You look really red."
"It's—it's the alcohol," Yoshino explained.
"Makes sense," Uchida shrugged.
Uchida looked as if she were struggling to think clearly.
"Alright, what about you?" Uchida demanded, leaning forward. "I've told you this much embarrassing stuff. It's only fair for you to say something."
Yoshino struggled to keep her composure. What was she supposed to do? Lie?
"I—I think the same way," Yoshino said.
"Really?" Uchida asked, laughing weakly. "How funny. I thought for sure it was just me."
Uchida frowned.
"You really don't look alright," she said. "Stop being so uptight and just unbutton a little. It won't matter."
"No, Yuka, I—" Yoshino began.
"Yuka never was the biggest on personal space," Yoshino said.
"You know, it's funny," Uchida said, unbuttoning Yoshino's top two buttons. "This sake must be some pretty potent stuff. You don't look like a boy at all, but I—"
Uchida dropped her hands suddenly, tilting her head, looking confused.
"—I feel strange looking at you like this," she said, furrowing her brow.
That tore it.
"Damn it! You know what I'm trying to say!" Yoshino finished, covering her face with her hands in mortification.
"That's how it happened," she said, head in her hands. "It's been going on for two years, and I hated myself the whole time."
She swallowed one last time.
"I can't be the perfect daughter you're imagining. I'm sorry."
She listened to her own breathing as she waited for a response.
A while later, she forced herself to look up, not having received one.
Her mother was crying.
Yoshino looked at her in shock.
"I—I'm sorry!" she said. "But—"
"No, it's alright," her mother said, trying to wipe her eyes with one sleeve. "I—I always knew I was being unfair, asking so much of—of you. I just—just thought you could do it. I wanted–"
She shook her head, and fell silent, trying to recover her composure.
Yoshino struggled to make sense of her reaction.
"What are you saying?" she asked in confusion, leaning over, as if somehow getting closer would help.
"I'm sorry for placing my unrealistic desires on you," her mother said, lip trembling. "That's right, you don't have to be perfect. I love you anyway. I just wish…"
Again she fell silent.
"Wish what?" Yoshino asked, grabbing the woman by the shoulder, but the woman only shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Can you leave? I want to be alone for a while."
"I—" Yoshino began, but stopped.
It hurt, she realized, the gap of comprehension. Her mother had thought she understood Yoshino, but she didn't. Yoshino had thought she understood the woman, but it was clear now she didn't either.
This lack of true comprehension shook her view of her life.
She swallowed and nodded, painfully.
I'm sorry, Arisawa. How am I supposed to ask this woman for advice? We don't even understand each other! I—
"Alright," she said. "If that's what you want."
She got up, turning for the door.
I can't leave her crying like this. She's my mother and it's my fault.
"Mother?" she asked.
"Yes?" the voice behind her asked.
Yoshino turned back around.
"I promise you, mother," she said shakily, looking at the woman. "I'll make it up to you somehow. I just need time."
Her mother looked at her with surprised, red eyes.
Why would I say that? Yoshino lamented. I can't—I don't know—
She took a breath to calm herself.
"I have a plan. Sort of."
At the end of the school day, she found Uchida emerging from one of the side entrances to the school, as they had arranged.
She had asked for their whole circle of friends to meet, but Uchida was alone. Apparently, the others would be delayed.
In truth, she was glad. She wanted the time to speak to Uchida alone, but when she tried to say something, Uchida put her finger to her lips and gestured towards the café near the school where they were going.
It wasn't until the server brought their drinks that Uchida cleared her throat and started to talk.
Yoshino nodded in affirmation.
"They really weren't as bad as they seemed in front of you, yesterday," Uchida said. "They were unhappy, obviously, but they weren't as angry as I expected. I guess it's good news, but honestly it's pretty bad feeling their disappointment. My father seemed more resigned than anything."
She paused, trying to be a little coherent.
"Bottom line, I guess, is that I'm grounded for two weeks. It's better than I expected."
Uchida looked down into her fruit juice.
"What really hurts is how my mother responded," she continued. "You know how it is; she always wants to talk to me, and we always understand each other. Last night, she kept looking at me like an alien, like she doesn't understand me. I wish I knew what was going through her mind."
As Uchida spoke, her words brought forth in Yoshino's mind echoes of her own conversation with her mother.
"I'm not sure if that made sense," Uchida finished.
Yoshino shook her head decisively, looking down into her own cup.
"No, I understand perfectly. It's—we're the same way."
They shared a moment of mutual contemplation.
Uchida leaned back into the padded booth of the café, holding her cup up in the air with both hands to stare at it.
"On a different topic," Uchida said, "Chiaki asked me to remind you that she's not your personal messenger girl, and to ask why you didn't just tell Touma in the morning about this meeting."
"Tell her she needs to get one of you to get a cell phone first, and then I'll try calling someone else," Yoshino said, leaning over the table toward Uchida. "And I did tell Touma. But I didn't have everything thought through in the morning, so I didn't ask either of them to come."
"Tell Chiaki yourself," Uchida said casually, sipping her juice through a straw.
Yoshino shook her glass of iced tea, watching the ice cubes rattle against the glass sides.
"So what does it mean to be grounded anyway?" Yoshino asked, watching Uchida slurp her juice. "I see that you're here, and I didn't have to sneak you some elaborate note, so it can't be all that bad."
"Only because I lied to them and said it was a preplanned study session for entrance exams," Uchida said around her straw. "Despite everything, my mom is still worried about which high school I'll be going to, and wants me to milk you for all you're worth. She places a surprising amount of value in that."
Yoshino scrutinized Uchida's neck.
"Honestly, I thought things were going to be a lot worse," Yoshino said carefully. "Instead you're sipping juice in a café, your parents don't even care about us meeting for a study session, and they haven't sent you to some sort of nunnery. I didn't think it'd be this easy."
Uchida set down her glass with a clang, and Yoshino realized she had misstepped.
"What do you want me to do?" Uchida asked, looking at her with ill humor. "Start crying on your shoulder? What would that change?"
Yoshino opened her mouth to respond, but Uchida turned away to keep talking, and Yoshino realized with relief that Uchida hadn't really been angry at her.
"And we're not out of the woods, not by a long shot," Uchida said, peering forward intently. "They're still watching me, no matter what it seems like. They called Chiaki in the middle of lunch to grill her up and down about this 'study session'. She gamed them into believing that yesterday I lied to her too. I can't believe they still trust her that much."
"Some girls just know how to sell it," Yoshino shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. "She say anything about not being your personal lie-verifier?"
Uchida smiled slightly.
"In more colorful language than that," she said. "Also something about being a doctor—I didn't quite catch it."
They took a moment to drink their respective beverages.
"There's one more thing," Uchida added.
Yoshino inclined her head.
"The thing is," Uchida continued, "my parents are acting really suspiciously. They're being way nicer than they should be. This morning, when I got up, it's like nothing even happened. They just shuffled me off to school like always. My mother even smiled at me! It makes me nervous."
Yoshino thought for a moment.
"I guess we'll just have to take things one at a time," she said, levelly. "If they want to act like nothing's happen, it helps takes the pressure off for now. We'll cross that bridge when we get there."
Yoshino paused.
"I'm glad, actually," she said. "It means what I'm planning is actually plausible. I was pretty sure I'd have to change my mind the moment I talked to you."
"And that plan would be…" Uchida asked, gesturing for her to move on with one hand, holding her empty glass with the other.
"When the others get here," Yoshino, waving her hand dismissively.
Uchida looked annoyed, but assented.
"I still don't like it," she said, putting her head on the table glumly. "There must be a catch somewhere."
"There probably is," Yoshino agreed.
She grabbed Uchida's shoulder across the table, trying to be reassuring.
"But let's hope it doesn't arrive for a while, at least, hmm?"
Uchida nodded.
With serendipitous timing, Touma and Chiaki appeared in the window next to them, pointing. Uchida waved awkwardly, managing to smile in her usual manner.
Yoshino and Uchida shifted to make room as the door to the café opened, the little attached bell ringing, and the other two walked up to their booth.
"Where's Makoto?" Yoshino asked.
"Delayed," Chiaki said acerbically, sitting down next to her. "Something about one of his friends. I told them we couldn't wait any longer."
"I see," Yoshino said blandly. "Let's just start then."
"At least let us order first," Touma said, with a trace of annoyance, thumbing the menu that an arriving server had just placed in her hand. She didn't appreciate being rushed.
"I would have thought you guys would be more curious," Uchida commenting, subconsciously absorbing a bit of the negative mood. "Weren't you bugging me all day about it?"
"Well, I ordinarily would be," Touma said, giving Chiaki a look.
"Alright, guys, can we calm down?" Yoshino asked.
Chiaki returned Yoshino's look, then glanced at Touma.
After a moment, Touma nodded, and they dropped their tiff with an alacrity akin to flipping a switch.
Yoshino waited for them to order and for the drinks to arrive before pressing onward, observing the three of them make small talk.
Finally, detecting a lull in the conversation, she cleared her throat quietly, grabbing their attention.
"As I implied earlier, I have some things I want to say," she announced.
"Yeah, what exactly is going on?" Touma asked bluntly, leaning onto the table with one elbow. "I still can't believe you guys slept together."
"You told her about that?" Uchida asked, looking at Yoshino incredulously.
Yoshino kneaded her forehead.
"Can we please exercise a little discretion?" she asked. "This isn't exactly private, Touma."
"Ah, yes," Touma said.
Chiaki glared at her from across the table, making it clear that had they been on the same side, Touma would have received a punishing elbow in the ribs. Uchida looked absolutely mortified, looking down at her lap, probably wishing she could suddenly acquire teleportation powers.
"Look," Yoshino said. "They were going to find out eventually; I figured it might as well be from me."
"You could have asked me first!" Uchida complained, cheeks burning, looking from side to side.
"I wanted to ask Touma's advice," Yoshino tried to explain.
Touma shot some inexplicable look at Chiaki, who immediately folded her arms arrogantly and looked away.
"Just so you know, we haven't been quite so degenerate yet," Chiaki said.
It took Yoshino a moment to understand what she was talking about, but when she did, she felt obligated to put her forehead back in her hand.
"I wasn't asking," she lamented.
"Well, it is kind of awkward," Touma admitted. "What with Makoto and all. Uh, which is not to imply that there's some sort of three—it's just confusion, is all. I mean, er—"
Touma paused, trying to recover the sentence.
Yoshino wanted to bang her head into the table.
"Anyway, so, uh…how was it?" Touma asked thoughtfully, a moment later. "You know, was it…interesting?"
Touma wore a look of curiosity.
Uchida looked like she was ready to hyperventilate.
"No," Yoshino ordered, head still down, slamming her palm into the table. "We are not talking about this. Touma, shut up."
"How rude," Touma said, folding her arms and curling her lips in imitation of Chiaki, who in turn was opening and closing her right fist, clearly mulling over whether or not she should punch Touma, and with how much force.
"Would you guys just listen already?" Yoshino asked, looking up desperately.
To her and Uchida's immense relief, the other two nodded slowly.
Yoshino took a breath, sitting up.
"Alright," Yoshino said, laying her hands on the table in a gesture of openness. "Here's how it is."
"There's a reasonable chance I'll be forced to move out of the area soon," she said. "It's complicated, but, in a nutshell, it seems my prodigal parents have finally decided to remember that I exist. This is not, in my view, good news."
"Seriously?" Touma asked, but Yoshino waved her silent.
"Not good news," she continued. "Especially not given what they think I should be doing. According to them, it seems I should be attending some sort of prestigious private school instead of the grungy one I'm actually in. They want me to move in with them to do it, and they believe I should be actively in the process of scouting for future husbands, since it's part of my family obligations. They believe in this so strongly that they consider me delinquent for not having started, and are trying to foist options upon me."
Finishing her explanation, she let out a breath and opened her eyes again.
She had expected them to be surprised, but didn't quite expect the utterly stunned expressions she got. They were both staring at her: Touma with jaw slack, and Chiaki wiith eyes wide, implausibly managing to keep her mouth fixed in a pugnacious scowl.
"And that is how it is," she finished unnecessarily, trying to prompt them into speech. "I figured you should know."
She waited.
"Well," Touma began, breaking the silence." Uh…"
She looked down.
"No offense," Touma said. "But I am suddenly very glad I was not born into a rich family. They sound crazy."
"Do you have to do it?" Chiaki asked, looking at Yoshino. "You said 'forced'. How much leverage do they have over you?"
"It's an exercise in will-power," Yoshino said, looking between the two of them. "Except that if they are sufficiently determined, they have the law on their side. It's a giant mess, and I might be able to take them to court for negligence to declare myself emancipated, except that it's hard to prove negligence when you have over a dozen servants at your beck and call."
She shook her head rapidly.
"Anyway, the details aren't important," she continued, rushing through her explanation. "What it comes down to is, they want to meet me soon to discuss it. Everyone around me says I should do it, and that I might be able to convince them to change their mind on some things. It's at least worth the try."
She waited for them to digest the explanation.
"So when are you meeting them?" Touma asked, finally.
Yoshino eyes shifted, and she heard Touma suck in a breath, realizing her mistake.
Uchida glared at Touma, but it wasn't really her fault; it was a reasonable question, and one she expected.
Yoshino looked down.
"You have to understand," Yoshino said quietly. "I've never seen these people. They're complete strangers to me. I've hated them my entire life. I still hate them. It's not something I can just do, even if it makes sense."
"I'm sorry," Touma apologized.
Yoshino shook her head.
"Don't be."
"I should have—"
Yoshino shook her head again.
"Well, anyway," she said. "In case you're wondering….regarding recent events, I am confident that none of my servants will let leak that anything happened. Regardless of whether they approve of me or not, they approve of my parents less. Loyalty is a valuable thing."
She waited through a long moment of silence.
"I'm not really sure what else to add," she said, privately remembering all that she was leaving out. "I think that covers it."
"Those bastards," Chiaki snarled with unexpected ferocity. "The way they abandoned you would only be acceptable if they were dead."
They looked at Chiaki with surprise at the sentiment, but she didn't endeavor to explain.
Yoshino looked around the table to catch their eyes, and their attention.
"Besides all of that, I have an announcement," she said, and this time Uchida leaned in to listen carefully.
She took a breath.
"I'm taking a trip," she said. "A vacation for the next four days, while I'm suspended, I'm not sure where yet, but nowhere far."
She glanced at Uchida. Uchida looked at her with surprised eyes.
"I know this probably seems sudden, and a bit random," Yoshino continued. "But I'm actually under quite a bit of stress. I just thought…I should try to relax a little, before I go crazy. I took your advice to heart, Touma."
Touma and Chiaki looked at her with confusion.
Yoshino laughed sheepishly.
"I guess that seems hard to believe, but it's true. I need the time to think, with so much going on. I just thought it was a good opportunity. I'd bring Uchida with me, but there are obvious problems with that."
"How irresponsible," Chiaki commented, with sudden venom. "So you're just going to leave her here?"
"I—" Yoshino began, before swallowing sharply.
That's Chiaki for you, she thought. Straight to the point as always.
"I feel bad, of course," Yoshino said. "But it's only four days, and I can rush back at any time. Uchida's parents seem to be leaving her alone, for now, and I'm always in contact by phone. I just—there's things I need to do, and plans I have to make. And I think…I just need to get away from it all for a while. My family, my servants…you know how it is."
"I guess that's one of the perks of being rich," Touma commented facetitiously. "You can just make decisions like this on the fly."
Yoshino nodded, watching Uchida with one eye. She had been silent the whole time.
"I understand," Uchida said, nodding to herself. "I'll be waiting."
A while later, they waved the other two goodbye. Yoshino had offered to walk Uchida home, a gesture that attracted smirks from Touma, and dispassionate interest from Chiaki.
Is everything I do now going to be scrutinized like that? Yoshino thought.
"You know, I was thinking," Uchida began.
"Hmm?" Yoshino asked, dropping her previous line of thought.
"That boy who stalks you sometimes, do you know anything about him?" Uchida asked.
Briefly surprised, Yoshino turned to look carefully at Uchida.
"That reminds me," she said, changing the subject. "Who told you you were free to mention that to my servants?"
Uchida's eyes widened.
"She told you about that?"
"Yes," Yoshino said.
Uchida grimaced, then pursed her lips.
"Is it that a big deal?" she defended. "It hardly matters if she knows, especially not now. You never told me it was verboten to mention!"
Yoshino sighed, facing forward again.
"No, not really," she said. "Just—that's the kind of thing that could have really set something off. Not that it matters anymore, as you said."
They stopped at an intersection, Uchida pushing the button for the signal light.
"What brings this up, anyway?" Yoshino asked.
Uchida scratched her head nervously.
"Well, I know you don't like talking about it, so I didn't mention it, but actually, on the way out, I spotted him and Makoto arguing down the street from the café."
"So that's what he was doing," Yoshino said. "And why you kept looking behind you. That's right; he's one of Makoto's friends, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Uchida agreed. "Makoto kept grabbing his arm and trying to drag him somewhere too. Maybe we should ask about it."
Yoshino snorted.
"It's none of our business. The last thing I want to do is get anywhere within a hundred feet of whatever that is."
"Yeah," Uchida agreed. "That's true."
The light changed, and they began to cross
"So…" Uchida began.
Yoshino tilted her head to indicate she was paying attention.
"If I could somehow, miraculously talk my parents into letting me go with you, would you be okay with that?" Uchida asked. "I mean, I know you're supposed to be retreating to a fortress of solitude, or something like that, but would it be okay?"
Yoshino blinked.
"That'd be amazing," she said. "Remember, I told you I'd bring you if I could. But it's basically impossible now."
"Yeah," Uchida said wistfully. "I was just wondering."
Author's note: My original intention was for the entire rest of this story to be one chapter, but I knew that was unrealistic even by last chapter. This time, right when it passed nine thousand words in the middle of Yoshino's meeting with Uchida, I cracked the obligatory Vegeta joke to myself…and completely gave up on making it all one chapter. It was laughable anyway.
Trivia: There was a deleted scene in this chapter. It was kind of fun to have, but it just didn't fit in with the rest of the story; it was too random and out of left field, and had nothing really to do with anything. I might be able to reincorporate the best aspects of it later…