Reversal
"We're going in today! Right after class! Nothing's stopping me!" Kanji said, pacing on the roof of the school.
The Investigation Team met at their usual spot to discuss Naoto's disappearance during lunch. There was a mixture of worry and tension as the Midnight Channel claimed a new victim even though the killer was behind bars. As the Investigation Team buzzed about the latest victim, Yua was caught up in her thoughts about the previous night and what she would do with Adachi.
Yua felt distant. She wanted to be there mentally. She wanted to be talking about Naoto and figuring out this case, but she couldn't bring her swirling mind to focus on the issues at hand. Adachi took over her thoughts, and the fact that he hadn't texted her yet had her on edge.
Yua knew that she wasn't being subtle about it either. Rise had offered her a surprising hug when she got to the rooftop and sat beside her during their lunch. Yosuke had said some reassuring words earlier about Naoto, but she just couldn't focus on it.
"Yua, what do you think?" Yukiko asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You didn't join the group chat last night. Did your phone die?"
"Um…" Yua paused for a moment. "I fell asleep early. The weather must have made me drowsy." Yua felt a weight inside her chest. This was the second time she'd told that lie, and she knew she'd have to repeat it many more times.
"Oh, that's ok," Yukiko misinterpreted her bashfulness.
"Yeah, Yua, you don't have to worry," Yosuke said sincerely. "We'll get Naoto back."
"We'll get him back," Rise repeated.
"Yeah, it's three to zero so far," Chie assured. "Haven't failed yet, so this'll be just like the other times!"
"Hell yeah, we're getting him back!" Kanji declared.
They were hopeful, but tension still held in the air as Naoto's disappearance was so out of the blue. Really, no one expected what was to come next.
Yua smiled and nodded. They continued to make plans and eat; her thoughts drifted back to Adachi. She wanted to talk to them and ask for advice on how to deal with this. That's what friends did; they were supposed to support each other. But she knew they couldn't help, not with this. Even if she could talk about Adachi freely, none of them had been in this situation. And she couldn't pull them away from the investigation for this.
"Forget lunch again, Yosuke?" Chie asked as she chewed on a mouthful of beefsteak.
Yua snapped up. She was supposed to make him lunch. They made eye contact for a second.
"Um—yeah, don't worry about it," he shook his head. "There are more important things going on right now."
Chie very, very reluctantly spared him the vegetable portion of her lunch.
"You too, Yua? Take part of mine," Rise offered.
"No thanks," Yua smiled politely. "I'm not hungry."
Yua's fingers tightened around her knees. How could she forget that? She made a promise to bring him something; he relied on her. She let him down—too wrapped up in everything. And he wasn't the only one; she could feel the team compensating for her lack of input. There were pauses in the conversation, places where she knew she should say something encouraging but didn't. She just didn't feel like a leader.
They lost track of time and were only alerted to the end of their lunch period by the sound of a chime.
"Crap! We're going to be late!" Chie jumped to her feet.
Everyone packed the rest of their lunches haphazardly and rushed to get downstairs. But before leaving the rooftop, something occurred to Yua. Yua remembered that she had told Dojima that she was staying at Rise's house and sighed, realizing what she needed to do.
"Hey, uh, how are you feeling?" Yosuke sidled up beside her. "We could walk back to class together if you need to talk about—"
"Thank you, but I—um, I want to talk to Rise-chan alone."
"Oh…" He muttered. "Well, I'll go on ahead."
"Thank you," Yua nodded, and he disappeared down the stairs.
"Rise," Yua pulled the idol back and hesitated until the rooftop cleared. "I need you to do me a favor."
"Huh? Sure, anything for you," Rise caught the uncertain look in her eye. "What is it, senpai?"
Yua felt her cheeks redden as she thought about how to phrase it, "I—I need you to know that I spent last night at your place to wait out the storm. If someone, er, my uncle, asks, could you say that I was with you?"
"But, I don't—" she cocked her head. "I mean, I can do that. But why—" her eyes widened. "Senpai!~ You didn't stay the night at your—"
She quickly waved her off, "I did; it was an accident. The storm came in fast."
"So that's why you missed the Midnight Channel…" Rise clapped her hands over her mouth, "Did you—"
"I didn't. His parents were home," She lied. Again, another lie. So many lies.
"Oh, but you stayed there," A smile crossed her face for the first time that day. "I need all of the details. Did you sleep in the same bed?"
The memory of his body pinning her down, restricting her breath, played in her mind, "I don't want to talk about it. I want to focus on Naoto for right now."
"But this is about," something stopped her, and Rise looked puzzled. "But if you were with your boyfriend, and Naoto disappeared before last night, then how…"
"Hey! What's keeping you guys!" Chie called from the staircase.
"Coming! Just having a little girl talk!" Rise turned back with a newfound curiosity. "But seriously, you're telling me everything when we get a moment. Got that?"
"Oh, sure…" Yua said, making a mental note to develop a better cover story.
Rise headed down with a new pep in her step, but Yua took a second to check her phone. No text. Maybe he was busy, possibly embarrassed by what happened. She just wanted to talk about it and know what he was feeling. She pulled up messages and started typing.
Adachi could not focus on work. His head throbbed under the relentless sensory attacks from his surroundings. Every shuffle of paper or office conversation teamed up with the glaring fluorescent lights to make his hangover that much worse. It made him want to crawl under his desk and fall asleep.
Despite the hangover, Adachi did find one solace. Shirogane had disappeared. His grandfather had called to let the police know to keep an eye out. If the texts from the Investigation brats were anything to go by, Naoto was currently in the TV. Well, at least the little pissant would be out of Adachi's hair for a while or, at most, dead. Shirogane's unwelcome visits to the station, showing up with endless questions and suspicious glances, rubbed him the wrong way. Adachi could rest easy for a while. Good to see such a pain in the ass gone.
Thinking of pain, Yua came to mind. His fingers brushed against his jaw where she had slapped him. He could still feel the sting, feel her pull herself away from him. He reflected further on the sporadic memories following the slap. She hadn't said anything. Then all of a sudden, she was apologizing, going on and on about all her excuses and nonsense. And then she grabbed his hand.
"I know this isn't you."
How could she be so blind? Even after everything that happened, even after he had decided to get rid of her, even after he'd torn off his mask, she still didn't see it. Somehow, she still trusted him enough to stay. Why? Hell if he knew. Maybe she really was just that stupid—or maybe she realized that she had overreacted.
Now that it was a new day, he knew he needed to apologize. He figured she had already forgiven him, being the kind little pushover she was, but it would help to blame it on alcohol and get right back on track. She would still be his. He still had control of her heart.
Adachi's phone pinged with a message.
Hey, we need to talk about last night.
He made a face before typing back, Alright. Sorry about leaving so quickly. Want to meet?
Yes.
Come over tonight.
It took her a few minutes to respond. I've got a lot of work I need to finish for school. I can't come over. Can we meet somewhere else?
Adachi frowned and typed, Sure. How about the riverside? It's cloudy today, so I doubt many people will be there. Meet after work?
Yes. Let's do that.
Adachi put his phone down; her straightforward and hesitant texts didn't give him confidence. What had once been a surefire apology seemed to be more complicated. Maybe he overestimated her forgiveness, or Dojima's sudden appearance made her doubt their relationship. Adachi realized he might have to do more than just apologize. As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, he felt something fluffy and pulled the plush bunny charm, twisting its broken cord between his fingers in irritation. To think, such a small thing had the potential to cause so many problems.
"You should take her flowers for running out on her."
"Yeah," Adachi mused, "Maybe that would help with it—" Adachi snapped over to Dojima, who was focusing on something. Adachi summoned all his strength to put on the dumbest, most ignorant face he could muster: "Say what, sir?"
"Adachi," Dojima eyed him from his periphery, "I'm not an idiot."
"Well, I assumed that," Adachi muttered.
Dojima rolled his eyes, "You had that girl you had a crush on in your apartment when I was there this morning." He shrugged, "Hey, good job. I wouldn't have expected it to go that fast. I thought she would have been scared off by the lumpy futon, but you managed to pull it off."
"How—"
"You had playing cards on your table; it looked like blackjack? Also, you had some pots drying on the counter, and I know you don't cook—at least, nothing that would require that many dishes. I'd noticed you've put some meat on your bones in the last couple of weeks. You're also hungover."
Adachi buried his face in his hands for a second, feigning embarrassment to hide his anger. Of course, Dojima would notice; it was his job to notice things! At least he didn't notice too much to piece everything together. Dojima had drawn the attention of half the room with his jabbering. It wasn't enough that he was a slavedriver; now, he was nosey too.
"I didn't say anything when I was there because I didn't want to embarrass her. Also, it was pretty funny to see you rush around and try to hide it. It's not every day that a girl shows interest in you."
Adachi squeezed the phone charm in his hand, quelling his quiet fury.
"You should get it fixed." Dojima nodded toward the squished bunny. "Maybe take it by Tatsumi's. It looks like one of his. I've noticed they're pretty popular with girls around here."
"Yeah, maybe," Adachi knew Dojima was right. He didn't have money for flowers, but he was sure he could fix the plush charm with a little effort, a small gesture to win back her affection and earn her forgiveness. What a headache.
Yua had just parted from her friends, leaving Junes with more questions than answers and heading towards a new destination. Adachi had sent her another message, saying that he was waiting by the riverside. The anticipation felt like a rock in her stomach. Part of her wished he would have something to do and just call it off.
"Hey, Yua," Yua jumped, whirling around to find Yosuke jogging up behind her. Yosuke stumbled to say something as he gauged her surprised reaction. "Are you ok—I mean, um, do you want to talk about it—er, Naoto? I could walk with you if you want."
Yua recovered from the surprise and tried to end it quickly, "Yosuke, I'm fine; I just want to walk alone right now, ok?"
"Ok, I'll let you, um, be alone," Yosuke nodded slowly. "But, uh, you have my number, right? If you need to talk about anything—anything—I'll be there. Ok?"
Anything. She could talk about anything… while she knew it wasn't a reality, it was heartening to know that he was there to listen. And yet she had already let him down.
"About the lunch, I'm really sorry—"
"Forget about it. There's so much more going on, so don't feel bad about something that small. I wasn't all that hungry."
Yua didn't feel like it was small but nodded anyway. They said their goodbyes, and Yua continued down the street. Even though she trusted Yosuke to not follow, she checked over her shoulder once or twice to ensure no one was trailing her.
As she approached the floodplains, Yua's heartbeat picked up.
The clouds clustered in the dark overhead, and it looked like it might rain. The potential storm reminded Yua of the previous night, and she hesitated momentarily. She felt like she'd thought about the event for hours, but it didn't help her understand it anymore. She hoped to have a breakthrough, a moment of clarity, some plan of action, but it never appeared. She sighed and decided to press forward despite her doubts.
Adachi was sitting on a bench along the walkway. A cigarette hung from his mouth, and he was staring at his phone with a muted expression. He saw her just as she reached the bench.
"Hey," Adachi offered with a smile, and she nodded.
"Adachi-san."
Adachi frowned a little. Maybe she was too tense, but she didn't feel like smiling. She stepped over to the bench before taking a seat, looking out to the river below. There was a moment of silence as Adachi glanced around before he spoke.
"Look, Yua, I'm sorry about," he cautiously lowered his voice, "last night."
Yua kept her eyes on an indefinite spot in the distance, unable to meet his gaze.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tapped the ash off the cigarette, "I don't remember most of it, but I know that something happened. And I'm sorry for that."
Didn't remember. He didn't remember what had happened. Yua didn't know what to do with this information. She didn't feel relieved or angry; it was numb. Why did she feel so numb? He was apologizing, trying to set things right, but she couldn't feel right. She felt his eyes on her, picking apart every twitch in her expression. Yua didn't know what she felt.
"Yua, it won't happen again. I was careless for drinking so much, it really—I don't know why it happened, but never again. I swear."
Adachi looked at her sorrowfully and sighed. He didn't remember, but he was sorry. She wanted to believe that he would never do it again and forgive him.
So why didn't she feel anything?
Adachi let his cigarette fall to the dirt. He let it smoke a while longer before rubbing it out with the sole of his shoe. She still didn't know what to say.
"Yua, you said you wanted to talk to me, so let's talk."
Her gaze remained on the river, "Does your cheek hurt?"
His hand reached up to his cheek as if investigating her question, "A little, but it's getting better."
"Good," Yua nodded. "I'm sorry that I hit you." It didn't come with the sorrow that Adachi had displayed. It was blank—emotionless. It cost nothing to say. Yua realized that, once again, she had told a lie.
"Well, we've both said it, so let's just—" he reached out to touch her arm, fingers brushed against her skin, and it felt like a lightning bolt had hit her.
Yua gasped and tore her arm away. Her hands trembled, and Yua felt the pit in her stomach grow deeper. Adachi's touch was meant to be comforting, but she reacted like his hands were covered in acid. She knew he was trying to be kind, but… she caught a glimpse of him through the periphery.
Adachi looked so confused.
Yua gripped the bench. This whole thing was a mistake. They weren't talking, really; they were just stating phrases, hoping it would make the issue disappear. But it wouldn't. Not unless they dug deep into what was bothering them. But she couldn't do that while the scars were still fresh. Yua needed time to think of a solution.
"Adachi-san," she muttered and took a deep breath before saying, "I think we need to take a break."
His eyes shot open, "Woah, Yua, let's slow down here! Tell me what you're feeling."
"I don't know what I'm feeling right now. We need some time away from each other, some distance to slow things down," Yua sighed. "I need to think about what happened."
"Slow things down? Yua, you're overthinking it. We're taking things slow. It was just a little out of hand. We can work it out."
"It wasn't just a 'little out of hand.' It was—" Yua hesitated for a moment. He didn't remember; she needed him to remember, "Tohru, I was afraid of you. You hurt me! I have bruises on my sides. And I was afraid that you'd…" The word caught in her throat. "That you'd… that you wouldn't stop."
Adachi recoiled, and mixed emotion flashed in his eyes. Hurt. Shock. But it rested in something close to disbelief.
"You were afraid?" He shifted in his seat and checked the perimeter before muttering, "Come on, Yua, that doesn't make sense. If you were so afraid of me, why did you stay? Why did you stay in the apartment if you really believed that I 'wouldn't stop.' Did you really think I could do that?"
Yua paused, reflecting on everything. She stayed. Yua knew she could blame it on the weather or something else, but she knew there was only one reason why.
"Yua, look at me," he grumbled again. "Why'd you stay? If it was just that bad, why did you stay?"
"I was worried about you," Yua finally turned to look him in the eyes. "I knew you were drunk, so I didn't want to leave you. I thought you might hurt yourself by accident."
To her surprise, he huffed, "Come on, Yua, don't lie."
"That's not a lie," she quickly added, "I care about you."
He paused again. Teeth grit together. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Until finally:
"God—you're confusing," he pressed his face into his palm. "Off and on! You kissed me. Then you're all, 'it's a school night.'" Yua tensed. "Then you kiss me again, and now you want a break—"
"I thought you didn't remember anything from last night."
Adachi paused, "I remember spots here and there. I especially remember the slap. It's not that—"
Adachi went quiet and sat back up as a couple came within earshot. He pulled out his phone and scooted back from her. Yua crossed her legs at the ankles and looked again towards the river. The elderly couple strolled past, utterly oblivious to the spat. The sound of sparks alerted her to Adachi lighting up another cigarette.
Why was he lying? He remembered something. Why didn't he just tell her? Something ignited in her chest. Yua felt her hands tighten into fists as she thought about it.
When the couple finally shuffled down the way, Adachi took a drag and spoke calmly, "Look, I've done my part, and I don't like being accused of things. We don't need a break. I've apologized, so let's just try to—"
"You wouldn't have to apologize if you didn't drink so much," Her words surprised her just as much as they surprised Adachi. She was suddenly seized by a mix of emotions, and new strength coursed through her.
"Yua, that's not the issue here—"
"It is! You scare me when you're drunk. You hurt me when you're drunk. You weren't yourself. You weren't Tohru. And now you're lying to me!" A ball twisted in her chest. "I don't want you to drink anymore."
"Yua," Adachi growled, "You're being unreasonable!"
"I'll never come over again if you drink," the words tumbled out of her mouth.
Adachi sank back into the bench and scowled at her. Yua thinned her lip and looked down.
"I won't. I won't do it. I promise you. I'll never set foot in your apartment again."
Adachi puffed his cigarette a couple more times before throwing it on the ground and hissing his frustration through his teeth.
"You slap me, now this. Just forget it, then," Adachi got to his feet and rubbed the cigarette into the dirt. "You don't need to come over anymore. Fine. Let's just take this break. I'm clearly not important enough."
As Adachi walked away, Yua felt something in her heart that she hadn't experienced before. It became clear a second later: a reversal. The Jester Arcana reversed, and her bond with Adachi weakened—like a valve being shut off.
Yua's heart sank, and she fought the urge to call out to him.
Reversal. Could the link break? Could all of her links break? The eternal bonds she had were now mortal as she realized this new dimension to their relationship. Her frown melted into a pained expression.
Water droplets rained onto her hands, but she knew it wasn't from the stormy clouds above. It had been a while—almost six months—since she'd let herself cry.
When Adachi got home, he started downing beer. It seemed like a fitting middle finger to her demand. Don't drink? What man didn't drink? Adachi took another swig, turned on the TV, and dropped onto the couch.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered, along with several dozen curses. "Damn bitch comes into my house—"
So entitled! She was the one staying the night with a man; what did she think would happen? She expected it—and turned him down for the fun of pulling him along. Well, he wasn't going to play that game.
Adachi knew the break was somewhat counterintuitive, but he had to keep his dignity. She couldn't tell him what to do. And it was temporary, too, meaning that she still wanted him. As much as he wanted to take extreme measures, he wouldn't lose it over one of her mood swings. A fisherman let the fish swim with the current before snapping it back. He wasn't above showing her her place and turning off the affection she'd become accustomed to seemed like the best way to reel her in. She'd realize her mistake soon.
"She'll come back. She'll come begging!" he declared to no one in particular.
So, Adachi tried to sit with that knowledge, live from the high ground, but he kept revisiting it—a memory that was a mixture of titillation and embarrassment. She demanded he stop drinking over just a little groping. Bitch—she was so self-conceited—so arrogant. She thought she could tell him what to do!
After about an hour more of wallowing and grumbling, Adachi decided to be petty and reached into his pocket to find his phone to snap a picture of his beer can to send to her. Instead of finding his phone, his fingers grasped something soft. He pulled it out to reveal the mended bunny phone charm. It had taken two hours of work to fix the stupid thing.
His mind wandered as he dangled it from the cord. She'd gotten the rabbit from that Tatsumi weirdo. Boys were all over her. He gripped the rabbit in both hands and started mashing it with his thumbs, pulling at the seams. Why so many guy friends? He felt sick thinking about it. She was probably seeking out the comforting arms of Hanamura—throwing herself at him and justifying it because of their break. That's why she was doing this—an excuse to cheat. Hanamura was getting his chance while Adachi was sitting drunk off his ass in the dog's house—just like his father.
Adachi's thoughts were interrupted by the bunny's violent decapitation.
Stuffing fell out, and the rabbit's head deflated. Adachi blinked, drunkenly wondering if he could fix it and squashing the two parts back together. No, he wouldn't be able to sew that back without her noticing. Well, he could explain a lost bunny, but he couldn't explain the state it was in. Better get rid of it.
Adachi tried to get to his feet but surrendered to gravity after the room spun. He felt nauseous and regretted his rebellion for the first time that night. Groaning, he slid off the couch and down to the floor to avoid vomiting. After several moments he opened his eyes and sighed, thinking of the easiest way to dispose of the bunny corpse.
A thought struck him as he looked ahead to the brightly flashing screen. There was no better way to lose something. Taking both pieces of the bunny in hand, he reached out, and his fingers vanished into the TV. He felt the pull against the bunny as if the TV recognized the sacrificial offering. He let go, the bottom half tumbling in, but the cord snagging his finger, dangling the head. Pausing for a moment to savor it, he tilted his hand and let the bunny slip through his fingers into the TV.