Chapter Two: And That's The Way Life Goes
When Naoto offers Yukiko to sit first, she does, so she can take the seat by the window and stare out it for - well, maybe the rest of her life.
Naoto, for her part, recovered quickly enough, though now she drops herself into her seat fast and winces well after.
The train is emptier than Yukiko expects: most seats are unoccupied, and the ones that aren't carry only one person.
It's a lonely sight, but then today the ones who aren't lonely wouldn't be running out of town.
"Where does this train go?" Yukiko asks Naoto, still surveying their surroundings.
"I haven't – tch – " she shifts and grimaces " – I haven't the foggiest. We didn't quite get the chance to check."
Yukiko hums, then looks out the window feeling sleepy.
She should have seen it.
Maybe she did; Yukiko realises she's not the most observant – that would go to the person sitting beside her – but maybe she knew all along, somewhere not so deep down, that Souji-kun doesn't feel the way about her that she does about him.
What she felt, exactly, is complicated: she thinks it could be love, but she doesn't have much to go by. Her parents had an arranged marriage, and they seem happy enough; she doesn't watch much television, and the movies she goes to with Chie focus on fighting, maybe at best with an undeveloped romantic aspect.
But, her inner fire argues, it makes it that much more certain that it's love she feels when she isn't building it on someone else's image of it.
She thinks the drive to cook better to impress him – or just to have him taste her cooking at all – must be something. That fighting by his side through thick and thin must be something. That the way her heart races and the words become so easy and too hard when he's standing right there must be something.
And it did; it's something – more than just something – to Yukiko, and, it seems, less than that to Souji.
That leaves Yukiko with it all, and without anyone to share it with. And she thinks that these things – feelings – are things meant to be shared.
"You should at least eat a bit," Yukiko hears Naoto say, and it sounds miles away.
She pulls herself out of her thoughts and away from the window, and feels her elbow push against something warm.
"Ack – " Naoto flinches, pulling a black plastic box away from Yukiko's arm. After Yukiko folds her hands into her lap, Naoto holds out a pair of chopsticks to her. "Please?"
Yukiko tentatively takes the chopsticks, and looks at the bento box held out to her – filled with rice, pickled vegetables, and a chunk of grilled salmon on top. "What's this?"
"Food," Naoto answers simply, picking up her own pair of chopsticks. "The lady came by, but you seemed…preoccupied, so I ordered something to eat." She pokes at the rice a bit. "These bentos are quite large, and I know I wouldn't be able to finish one myself, so I thought…we could share?"
Naoto says that part meekly, and Yukiko can't help but smile a bit. "Oh, I don't mind at all. I'm not very hungry now myself, either."
Naoto nods, then says, "After you."
Shuffling the rice a bit with her chopsticks, Yukiko thinks to say "Itadakimasu", but can't decide if Naoto would take it as stiff or too formal. Instead, before she eats, she says, "Thank you, Naoto-kun."
It tastes good, Yukiko thinks once she digs in: she prefers sharper flavours, and the pickled peppers are just that. She also taste – "Beef?"
Naoto swallows and covers her mouth before she speaks. "I hope it's to your taste. You wouldn't – didn't answer me when I asked."
"Sorry," Yukiko says, and she wonders how long she was lost in thought for. Still, beef is more expensive, and maybe Naoto can afford to spend like that. "You shouldn't have, though. Anything would've been fine."
"I thought you may as well eat something different than usual."
"I always have beef with Chie."
Naoto pauses, morsel lumped in her chopsticks. She drops it back in defeat. "I…didn't consider that."
"Oh – no, it's all right, really!" Yukiko says quickly – she's sad herself but doesn't mean to make anyone else so. "It's great! I wish I could cook like this myself."
Naoto peeks at Yukiko from under her hat, then stares back at the bento. "I'm certain you can cook far better than this."
Yukiko perks at that; she's never heard it before. "Really?"
"Yes," Naoto says, and she's pushing the rice around. "Regardless of what I've been told, I see you as someone who has a very refined palate."
And now Yukiko's smiling wider than she thought she could after today, and she's about to offer to cook Naoto something – but then she hears herself say the words to Souji, and she doesn't want to share them with anyone else, so instead she says, "Thanks."
Then there's unsettling silence, because they both seem like they're out of things to say. Yukiko goes back to the window, only looking back when she's taking a bite, and she thinks maybe Naoto's stopped eating.
But she doesn't want to go radio silent on Naoto again, so she grabs at their last conversation and decides to say, "What sort of food do you like?"
It looks like Naoto wasn't expecting the conversation to pick up, so she raises her eyebrows and pauses before answering. "Well – I'm not picky." Then she pauses again, scrunches her brow in thought, and adds more as though she thinks she's expected to: "I usually eat out, so I enjoy home-cooking like a delicacy."
It makes sense, Yukiko realises: Naoto must not have much time to cook for herself, and maybe there aren't many people to cook for her.
Naoto must feel lonely most of the time, then; Yukiko imagines Naoto feeling the way she feels now, but every day. It's soul-crushing, very fast.
"Do you miss your mom's cooking?" Yukiko asks softly, and she doesn't know if she should be asking at all.
Naoto shakes her head, but barely moves. "I don't remember it very much, but – " she hesitates, and smiles just a little " – somehow, I vividly remember her baking. Fluffy, sugary French sweets. She loved baking, did so all the time."
There's a pause, and Yukiko can see Naoto's eyes glass over as they watch a memory like a nostalgic film.
Then, in a quiet voice, Naoto adds, "I haven't had anything baked in so long."
Yukiko remembers the banana bread one of the inn's chef prepared for her lunch earlier today. "Kanji-kun's a really good baker. He would love to make you something."
Naoto shrugs, but she's staring still at something far off and isn't exactly there anymore. She's lost in her reminiscence, and probably looks like Yukiko did just a while ago.
As much as Yukiko wants to leave her be for a bit, she knows how easy it is to fall inside yourself. She touches Naoto's shoulder softly. "You said you'd tell me about how your mom and dad met."
Like being pulled out of a dream, Naoto blinks, and her eyes focus on Yukiko's hand, then on Yukiko herself. Then, maybe by habit, all the sadness in her eyes is gone, and her face hides all emotion.
"I suppose I did," she says then, like business.
If years of loneliness can condition you to push everything under the surface, Yukiko decides she never wants to end up that way.
Yukiko slid her hand away from Naoto and takes the bento out of her hands – they seemed done with eating anyway. "Anything is fine."
"I'll share what I know. Their old friends used to tell me a lot about them, perhaps so I wouldn't forget." Naoto shrugs then. "But that was many years ago."
Yukiko distantly notes how upright Naoto sits, and takes solace in knowing they've both been raised with perfect posture
"Well, do you remember where they met?"
"Paris," Naoto says. "My father was there to catch a suspect, actually. They told me – " she touches the brim of her hat, and looked self-conscious " – well, I assume they exaggerated, but they would tell me that the moment he walked past her – outside a café – he immediately stole flowers from a man nearby and gave them to her."
"Aww," Yukiko purrs, and when she pictures the scene in her mind, she sees a jollier, taller Naoto punch a well-dressed man in the jaw and wrench flowers out of his hand, then hand them over to an unsuspecting, snow-skinned blonde woman drinking coffee.
"I suppose there's an irony in a detective committing a theft to flatter a woman," Naoto says, smiling just a bit.
"It's romantic," Yukiko suggests, even if she isn't sure.
"…You would know better than I," Naoto says. "However their chance encounter started, it ended badly."
"Oh?"
"She was meeting with someone else at the time."
"Oh."
"And when he couldn't understand her telling him that in French, she slapped him to ensure the point meaning conveyed."
"Oh!"
"Indeed," Naoto agrees. "But," she continues, in a tired tone, "My father was persistent, as detectives are."
"So I've noticed," Yukiko mutters under her breath, but Naoto doesn't seem to hear.
In fact, Yukiko reflects, Naoto seems contently invested in the story.
"I was told he put his casework off to pursue her; frequenting her favourite café, befriending her friends – he was a very charming man, see – and complimenting her every time they saw each other." Naoto shakes her head lightly. "He couldn't learn French fast enough, and his English was better and more formal than hers, so I assume it never quite did the job."
Yukiko wonders what she would do with someone who was so adamant on her – or if she could be driven to do as much. "He sounds quite love-struck."
"He hardly knew her at best," Naoto mutters, sounding almost accusing. "I can't imagine what could have possessed him so. It's ridiculous, really."
Well, Yukiko has much more history with Souji than Naoto's parents with each other, and ended up with less.
"At one point – and I'm not certain how correct this is – my father had a piano placed in front of her residence one evening and played her favourite songs until almost dawn." This time, Naoto hummed a laugh, then added, "He acquired a lot of information from my mother's friends, and he was classically trained on piano. She just happened to love the piano more than she did baking."
Yukiko doesn't say it, but for not hearing about it for years, Naoto seems to remember most things. It comes with being a detective, maybe.
"Anyway, my mother eventually called the police on him – rightfully so, I might add – but some of them recognized him as a Shirogane, and they helped him even more."
On that, Naoto scoffs just slightly, and Yukiko can't help but think that maybe she's jealous of how much respect her father got from the authorities that would only put her down.
Or maybe Naoto just feels like she's failed to live up to her name that way.
"Then what happened?" Yukiko asks.
Naoto composes herself visibly: sits straighter, and folds her legs over. "My grandfather hears that my father was shirking his responsibilities, for a foreign woman no less." Naoto smiles wryly. "As expected, he was furious."
Yukiko gets the impression that Naoto's grandfather is stiffer than she is, and that Naoto may not have always been that way. Still, Yukiko can't remove the image of a stony-faced kid Naoto from her mind.
"From there, it goes as expected: Grandfather sets my father straight, forbids he meet my mother again, and my father rebels in secret."
"Wow." Yukiko's having trouble reconciling her image of Naoto and this enchanting, daunting man that is – was – her dad.
Naoto purses her mouth into a thin frown. "It's childishly rash, honestly: he put his livelihood and heritage on the line for someone who didn't want him."
Yukiko wants to argue that it worked out in the end, but she figures they'll get there soon enough. "Does your grandpa ever find out?"
"Of course: he's no fool, and I would think, more than that, he knows his own son."
It's striking to hear that from Naoto; Yukiko wonders if her own mother could guess she would jump a train with a barely-friend in the wake of a heartbreak. "What does he do?"
Naoto hesitates to answer. When she does, she does so with that tired voice. "Grandfather cancels my father's ticket and withholds all accounts, effectively stranding my father. One of my father's closer friends said my father hadn't ever been very good with saving money, so…"
Yukiko starts to think overdramatic responses runs in Naoto's bloodline, as well as tenacity – and good-looks, it would seem.
"This is a roller coaster ride," Yukiko sighs.
"Quite," Naoto agrees. "I suppose you can deduce what happens next."
"Go on," Yukiko prods, because it's far more distracting listening to Naoto speak.
"If I must…well, my father isn't one to give up, so he takes up a job as a piano player at a restaurant – he apparently wins over the owner very quickly."
It doesn't take much time for Yukiko to compare Naoto's father to Souji in terms of charm.
"And he worked to learn more French – I believe at this point he decided to be more clever with his approach, and he left my mother be while he worked things out." Naoto sighs and uncrosses her legs. "Sorry, I don't think I've ever told a story at this length before."
At that, Yukiko feels a bit of pride. "It's a wonderful story."
Naoto rubs her eyes and looks down the train's corridors. "It's hard to believe it happened at all. These sort of things often only happen in movies."
"They had to come from somewhere."
"Perhaps. There isn't much left, though: after a few short weeks, my mother and her then-fiancé – she got engaged in the time my father was working – they had dinner where my father worked, and – I don't quite know what happens next."
"Hmm?"
Naoto taps her finger against her arm. "I think they changed the story so I'd understand it better, but I've heard different variations of this part: mostly that my mother was just highly impressed with my father's playing and broke her engagement off on the spot."
"Really?"
"It doesn't seem correct," Naoto says, forehead creased. "She wasn't won over by his playing before. I've also heard that my father started a fight with her fiancé, and even that he sang to her right in front of him."
Yukiko tilts her head. "A mystery, huh?"
Naoto laughs bitterly. "Irony, the great revenge. Regardless, from what I gather, I think she was just moved to see him at work – when he wasn't doggedly chasing her around, my father was astoundingly assiduous – and maybe she wanted to know him better.
"And I think…I think she did. Perhaps it-they may have just talked at first – she didn't learn Japanese until after they married, but both were very intelligent and picked up on languages fast – but then…"
As Naoto trails off, she becomes almost anxious to even speak. Yukiko remains silent.
"Well, no one ever said anything, but evidence shows she had an affair of sorts with him – that my mother was seeing my father while still engaged. For a fair time, at that."
"Oh," Yukiko says softly; she finds it a little hard to reconcile that revelation with the rest of the story.
But then, as Naoto put it, maybe the story was changed – even a bit – to fit a more pleasing picture. Maybe the harder times, the bad decisions, the lying and cheating was smoothed over.
Yukiko wonders then if maybe that's what the movies did as well.
Naoto slips off her hat and pushes her hair back. "However it happened, the rest goes fast: she eventually breaks of her engagement, she and my father begin to build a life together, and they get married."
"Without your grandpa's blessing?" Yukiko knows both she and Naoto are both traditional.
"He kept ties cut with my father for a few years. I don't know if my father ever tried to change his mind, but eventually, well…"
Naoto fidgets with her hat in her hands, and looks sheepish, if a bit red in the face.
Yukiko is effectively perplexed. "What happens?"
Naoto doesn't look up. "I happen?"
"You hap…oh! Baby Naoto-kun!" Yukiko squeals happily, and brings her hands to her mouth.
Naoto shrinks in on herself, self-conscious. "Yes. Well."
But Yukiko doesn't let it go yet: she pictures a beautiful couple holding up a blanket-wrapped baby, wearing a blue baby cap and curling her fists as she yawns. She gushes over the mental image at Naoto's expense – "Aww, baby Naoto-kun!" – because it's cute to see a Naoto not turned cold by the world, and it's mind-blowing to think that this story of two people she's never met lead to the person telling it.
Maybe, in part, it's her motherly instincts kicking in. And maybe it's an effect of heartbreak withdrawal.
"Amagi-san, please," Naoto implores, flushed poppy-red. "It's-I-we- everyone's has once been a child, please don't make such a commotion over it."
It takes Yukiko some time, but after she giggles and gushes and peeks at Naoto to compare her to Baby Naoto-kun, she reels herself in, still smiling. "Okay – okay, I'm done."
"Than – "
Yukiko gasps, suddenly realizing that – "Baby Naoto-kun drank from a baby bottle, didn't she?"
Naoto deflates. "I-no- I mean, all babies – "
"Awww~."
"Amagi-san!" Naoto says weakly. "I expect this behavior from Rise-san or even Teddie, but you're supposed to be more composed."
"Sorry – " a giggle escapes Yukiko at the thought of a baby playing with a toy magnifying glass and drinking from a detective-themed bottle " – I'm done. This time for real."
"Well I suppose I am too – "
"Naoto-kun, please? I'm sorry – "
" – not that, it's just – there isn't much left of the story. After I'm born, and grandfather hears – well, babies just have a way of changing people. As you demonstrated," Naoto adds pointedly.
Yukiko smiles back.
"A while after I turn one, grandfather visits, and I suppose he reconciles things with my father and…" Naoto shrugs again. "The rest just happens. They move back to Japan. Mother learns the language. Father teaches her his work. They work together. They raise me." Naoto pauses, then slips her hat on and the brim's shadow covers her eyes. "They die. The end."
And it goes from a happy ending to a sad, unfinished story too quickly for Yukiko to settle with. She tries to gauge the look on Naoto's face, but its back to a blank stare.
For a moment, Yukiko can put away her own grief. When it isn't holding her captive, things are clearer, easier: someone's hurting, trying not to, and leaving them alone just isn't right yet.
Yukiko leans forward. "Naoto-kun," she starts, but she doesn't think she can think of any words Naoto couldn't find a hundred better ways to say.
So she wraps Naoto in a hug – Naoto flinches, stutters, squirms uncomfortably – and leans her chin on her shoulder. Naoto feels even smaller in her arms, and stays still except for her soft breathing. She smells like aftershave.
Naoto whispers something, too softly for Yukiko to hear. Yukiko wonders if she'll ever know what Naoto said.
For a little longer, the only sounds they hear is the train over the tracks. Then, Yukiko pulls away, and takes Naoto's hands with her.
"I'm sorry – I forgot," she says, holding Naoto's hands in hers. They're cold and bony. "I forgot that – didn't think – "
"It's okay," Naoto says simply looking down. "Even I forgot for a time there, somehow." Then, she huffs a bitter laugh. "I had dragged you out here to help you, but instead I've turned it around. I'm sorry."
Yukiko shakes her head, and rolls her thumb over Naoto's knuckles – motherly instincts indeed. "Not at all. I – I needed this too."
Naoto says nothing, and slowly draws her hands away from Yukiko. She holds one in the other, and looks at them like they've been replaced. "Very well."
And there isn't much else to say or do. Yukiko watches Naoto for a moment longer – she looks sad – then turns her attention to the passing landscape outside.
She stares out the windows until the scenery slows down, and stops at a train station. There's an announcement playing, but the sound is muffled and she can't make out what it's saying.
"We've arrived," Naoto says, in a stale tone that Yukiko's used to hearing from her.
"Where?"
Naoto stands, straightens her shirt, and stands – carefully, still wincing just a bit – to the side of the chair, holding her arm out. "I suppose we'll have to find out."
Yukiko stands as well, and feels her bones click. She carries the mostly-empty bento with her, and walks ahead of Naoto to the exit.
"We'll get some drinks," she hears Naoto suggest from behind, "and then you can tell me what's been on your mind."
Yukiko looks back and starts to protest, but Naoto speaks as well. "My stipulation, for sharing my story."
It's fair, Yukiko thinks as she nods. She feels a breeze dance in her hair, and turns to the exit as she steps out into the cold.
She hugs Naoto's coat closer, and looks out to a completely unfamiliar town. Somehow, she feels like a different person now – someone who's still changing, just like the world around her.
A/N: I lied about it being a two-parter. Expect a chapter three, or complain here before that!
