Control
"Really, it's been a bit since you've visited. Did'ja get lost out there? Or did you just not want to hang out with me, stupidjerkleavingmeherewithlongnose."
"Glad to see you too."
"Marie, please be kind to our guest."
The Investigation Team had completed their mission just like the last. Naoto was safe—flustered but safe. She was resting at home, and the team had slipped back to their default: waiting for the next person to appear on the Midnight Channel. Yua hated the thought of the IT being on their heels yet again after what seemed like certain victory. But waiting was all they could do as no new leads came out of their recent adventure.
The waiting gave her some time to sink back into normal life, and the issue that came first and foremost to her mind was her fight with Adachi. Yua had never gotten a reversal before; she needed expert advice.
The day after Naoto's rescue, Yua sat on the comfy blue limo seat of the Velvet Room. Marie was being her typical self. After berating Yua for her absence, she sank back into her seat and scribbled something down, muttering so briskly that everything turned into a mono-word. Igor was uncharacteristically absent, but Margret was glad to answer in his stead. She didn't seem surprised by Yua's questions. Yua half expected that Margaret already knew what she was going to ask. The girl always wondered how much Velvet room attendants saw of her daily life. She hoped it wasn't too much.
"Reversals occur when a social link is at a standstill, either due to a lack of contact or a disagreement between the two parties," Margaret nodded. "It is not irrevocable and may be restored with reconciliation."
"Alright," Yua sighed with relief. It could be repaired.
"However, there is also the event of breaking a social link, in which the link will return to its lowest state and render it useless. In that case, you will not have access to the personas of that broken link. Reconciliation may also be used to repair the link, but it will take much more time and healing. Is there anything else that you wanted to know?"
"No, this has helped a lot. Thank you." Yua started to stand.
"Yua, if I may," Margaret held up a hand.
"Yeah," The Wild Card raised an eyebrow, half expecting a request. "What is it?"
"You understand that I am not allowed to interfere with your fate, and while I gain a glimpse of the future, it is not clear."
"Yes?"
Margaret pondered her words. Her golden eyes flickered to where the master of the room usually sat before returning to her guest. "I feel that I must inform you that social links are merely a tool of the Wild Card. While they can be used to measure a bond, they are often incomplete and do not account for what kind of bond is formed. It only gets stronger as the two understand each other more, and while they might reach the highest level, the bond formed with that person may be one of the most important in your life or simply someone in a season of it."
Yua thought about her previous hypothesis, anxiously wondering how much of her life was on display for the residents. Her lip thinned into a nervous line as she thought on the advice: someone in the season of her life. Was the attendant telling her to let the relationship go? Was that all Adachi was to her: a first love—one to move on from? Or did that mean that it was a relationship for her lifetime? Yua knew better than to ask and expect an outright answer. These were words to ponder.
Margaret looked like she would say something, but the words just didn't seem to form. Finally, she said, "Yua, you understand as a guest of this room that you are responsible for your actions and that your actions have consequences for others and yourself."
Yua nodded, "I signed the contract."
Margaret smiled politely, "As long as you understand that you have nothing to worry about and can determine your destiny."
Yua raised an eyebrow. "Ok" —her eyes lit up as she concluded— "It's my choice, isn't it."
"It always has been."
It was Yua's choice of what to do with Adachi. Part of her felt like that was a very obvious statement. But in a world where everything seemed tied to some vague, determined future, there was a terrible weight that came with Margaret's words. Yua could form extraordinarily powerful connections with others and see those connections' status in real time. Adachi's link didn't reverse until their argument. Everything was alright until then. Everything had been building until then. Yua let that level of emotion and fear overtake her. She should have chosen her words better and—
Marie snapped her book shut, "Hey, enough talking. Are you going to take me somewhere or what?"
"I never said that, but sure," Yua muttered and shrugged. "I'm finished here. Let's go. Thank you, Margaret."
The two left the room without further delay.
Margaret was left alone in the Velvet Room. It was a rare moment of solitude since the master was away. While she tried to distract herself by reading through the Compendium, fruitlessly searching for new information; a question slowly formed. She sighed—she might as well follow the instinct since she had the time. With that, a deck of tarot cards appeared on the table. She moved her hand, and the cards shuffled on their own. Three cards were dealt.
"Hmm…" Margaret flipped over the cards one by one.
Queen of Cups.
Fool Reversed.
Tower.
It always ended in Tower.
"I do not think that you truly understand how far your actions reach, Yua."
Adachi spent the evening as the king of his castle, a goblet of beer in one hand and a TV remote scepter in the other. Neither were doing a good job of distracting him from his problems.
Problem, really.
She was the one who just couldn't get over the whole thing. He had left her alone, given her more than enough time to think things over, to come crawling back to him when she realized the error of her ways. If only she had enough sense to realize her fault. If only she had enough shame to stick to her word.
"I promise."
Liar.
She went back and saved Naoto. Her promise to stop investigating was forgotten, and Adachi had to do extra paperwork. That was enough to justify doing away with her, and the more and more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him.
Adachi gulped down some beer; the usual taste soured with his thoughts. With a dissatisfied huff, he slammed the can down on the arm of the couch and shuffled over to the kitchen. He had better things to do than spend his free time griping.
The refrigerator shelves had become bare over the past week, Adachi realized as he grimly scanned its contents. It had been a few weeks since he'd shopped; the girl's steady supply of meals had been keeping him going, aside from the odd instant noodle lunch. He snatched a few left-over ingredients and slammed the door shut. He had gotten along just fine before she began meddling in his life; he'd go grocery shopping tomorrow.
Thirty minutes and a small house fire later, Adachi was able to make a half-burned something or other. He scraped off the char, put the remains on a plate, and plopped himself down on the couch with his food in hand. This was the freedom he had been missing. No one told him what he could or couldn't do in his own place.
Adachi bit into his food and chewed victoriously. His complexion turned a gross green; he gagged and spat the masticated gruel back onto the plate. Somehow, the word "burnt" didn't quite cover the appalling taste that coated his tongue. He coughed and tried to wash it from his mouth with his beer. The flavor stubbornly clung to his taste buds. Whatever that was, it wasn't food. He got up and dumped it in the trash. He glared at the mess in his kitchen. The dirty dishes he had discarded to the sink sat mocking his efforts.
She made it seem so easy.
The taste of the Mystery Food Y lingered, and Adachi decided to get the flavor out of his mouth with a smoke. He grabbed a pack off the counter, but when he opened the door to his apartment, he was met with an unpleasant sight.
"The hell are you doing here?" Adachi glared at the cat perched on the railing opposite his door.
"Meow," Atsuki responded matter-of-factly and jumped down to the ground.
"She's not here." Adachi glared at the cat. As if not trusting his information, the cat tried to push its way in. Adachi stomped his foot in the crack of the door, stopping its advance. The cat looked up and flicked its tail. "You're not coming in here."
The cat sat down in front of him and expressed its disapproval in a half-hearted hiss.
"Outta the way," Adachi kicked his foot out, causing the cat to retreat a distance as he exited the apartment and closed the door right behind him. He went to the railing and tapped out a cigarette. He glanced over to the cat as he stuck the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "Get out of here before I call animal control."
The cat meowed in response and started to clean itself. Adachi eyed it through a scowl and took a drag. He couldn't even smoke his cigarettes in peace. He took another long drag, burning through the cigarette quick. He scoffed. If he had stayed with her long enough, she would have probably demanded that he stop smoking. He rubbed out the stub. Stupid girl. He glanced back down at the pack to grab another one.
Don't smoke more than two a day, please.
The curse was written on the back of the cigarette pack—the cigarettes she had given him.
Her cigarettes.
Her food.
A meow came from his legs.
Her cat.
"I said go away!" He swung his leg out at Atsuki once more. The cat jumped and backed away. He took the offending cigarette pack and threw it at the cat. The pest scurried away, disappearing down the stairs.
Adachi stormed back inside. His stomach growled, and he went back to rummage for food. Something, anything. And he found it tucked away in a hidden corner of the fridge behind beer. He pulled the container out and sighed. A box lunch.
A little note was on top.
Have a great day! (*^▽^*)
Her food.
Adachi opened the box on the counter and found a treasure trove of mouthwatering food. His stomach growled, betraying his hardened heart. The week-old refrigerator-tasting food was better than anything he could hope to cook on his own. He chomped on the food with the voracity of a man who had been denied food for days.
He couldn't help that it tasted so good. It pissed him off! Dammit, he had gotten himself addicted to a higher form of cooking.
He grumbled in anger but couldn't bring himself to throw it away.
The food, cigarettes—she'd wormed herself into his daily life, slowly dissecting it until he was hopelessly hooked on every bit of her. Even after their fight, he kept trailing back to that stormy night: the excitement, the tension, her soft lips and quiet sighs.
He shook his head, trying to dispel the feeling. He was just a little drunk.
She wasn't the only one.
Adachi abandoned the last bit of his food in the trash to satisfy a different hunger. He would just go to his other lovely ladies. It had been too long; he craved the feeling of Saki's soft hair wrapped around his fingers again.
But, when he opened the closet, he paused. On top of his treasure sat the folded-up remains of the pajama set she had borrowed. Adachi reached down to remove it, to throw it aside and return his focus to the others. But the moment he grabbed it, he knew he had made a mistake. He couldn't help but notice the silky feeling he'd felt just a week ago. His fingers followed the creases, running over the torn strands of the busted buttons. He was there again; it was as real as Saki or Yamano. As tempting as a whiskey bottle in an AA meeting.
He decided to indulge the feeling.
Adachi pulled out his futon, making sure to spread it out on the ground exactly as it had been that night. He laid out the pajamas as best he could, straightening the clothes, smoothing the wrinkles as if he were going to fold the material. He pulled the window curtain shut and plunged the room into darkness with the flick of a switch. Then, he laid down, being careful not to disturb the clothes just yet.
He sat there for a long while; the only sound was his breathing. In the dark, he could be there again. She was there, too. He was back to that night, feeling her heat, rubbing up against her; he could even smell her. And there he was, completely intoxicated.
Invading the front fold with his fingers, he imagined soft flesh meeting his touch. He dragged the shirt closer, wrinkling it as he experienced that moment again. He pressed the collar to his lips and inhaled deeply, breathing in that strawberry shampoo.
A self-aware thought entered his mind as he realized how pathetic he was acting. He blamed her for causing such sexual frustration. If she wasn't such a prude, he would have thought she was doing it on purpose, leading him on, twisting him around her little finger, teasing him. But, no, her guilt was in denying him. If only she would let him take over, he'd forgive her. Just hand over control.
He growled his frustration, pinning the cloth beneath him.
Control.
Adachi was in control—he had been in control that night. He remembered the way she had blushed at his advance, at the way he had coaxed her to look up at him. He had her underneath him, complete control over her. It had only been a moment, just a taste, and it wasn't enough. He needed more. He wanted to push her boundaries further and further, watch her spiral. He would make her break.
And he couldn't rely on this girl to take action. He glanced back at the half-empty can of beer balanced precariously on the arm of the couch. Just one little shameful bargain, one false repentance was all it would take, and he would be back in her good graces.
He just needed to till the garden a bit.
Adachi flicked the light back on and went to his phone.
He punched in a number, then pulled it up to his ear, "Hey, do you have time to talk tomorrow?"
"Dad's late," Nanako muttered.
Yua looked up from her plate. Another dinner, another no-show. Her uncle had been getting better about letting them know, but tonight, there was no warning. She glanced at the long-since-cold dinner placed at Dojima's side.
"I know," Yua breathed, pulling out her phone. "He didn't say anything about work tonight. I'll try calling him again."
There were a couple of rings before she heard the voicemail. Yua frowned, and Nanako's expression darkened, too.
"Dad's busy?"
Wanting to rescue Nanako from that pitiful expression, Yua started dialing again, "He didn't pick up. I'll try the station; see if his phone died."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"That's him!" Nanako jumped up and flew to the front door. Yua heard it open and the sound of shuffling in the doorway, and Nanako's cheerful: "Welcome back!"
Yua sighed in relief as she heard Dojima mutter something to Nanako. She stood to greet him as well. "Welcome—" A familiar face followed close behind her uncle. Her heart skipped a beat. "Home?"
Adachi stood in the doorway with a bashful expression; slung over his shoulder was his boss, absolutely drunk.
Adachi gave a weak smile, "Oh, hey, um, just returning your uncle. It got a little crazy at Shiroku's Pub tonight."
"Who—er you callin' crazy," Dojima slurred.
"No one, sir," Adachi sighed; he stumbled forward as Dojima tried to enter the home on his own.
"Um, thank you for bringing him home, To—Adachi-san," Yua said.
"I coulda' walked, it's not that far," Dojima complained. "You just wanted to drive the car."
"Well, I only get to drive it when you're smashed, sir. So, I had to take advantage."
"Smashed?" Nanako looked confused. "Who smashed Dad?"
"Oh, Nanako, you should head to bed; it's late! You have school tomorrow," Yua ushered the young girl towards her room. She tried to avoid eye contact as she crossed Adachi's path.
Adachi strained to keep his boss on his feet, "You should go to bed too, Dojima-san—"
"I'm not a child, Adachi," Dojima grumbled. "I'm just a little—" he stumbled as Adachi walked with him. "This is all your fault for taking me out drinking. If I have to hear about your girlfriend one more time—"
"Dojima-san!" Adachi protested.
Yua froze.
"It's just 'cluck-cluck-cluck' with you," Dojima made a mouthing motion with his hand. "Worrying like a damn schoolboy. Grow a pair and fix your problem and stop whining about it like you do with everything else!"
"Ah," Adachi glanced back, "Bedtime! Now! You're really super drunk! You don't know what you're talking about!"
Nanako blinked, "Dad's super drunk?"
"Hey, let's go Nanako!"
With that, Yua led the girl to her room and started to get her ready for bed.
Yua's thoughts were racing. The unexpected visit was… she didn't even know how to categorize it. She wanted to talk to Adachi. She spent the majority of study hall that day writing down what she wanted to say to him, but he'd just been out with Dojima. He could not be in the mood for it; he could even be a bit tipsy himself. Drinking again. Yua's heartbeat picked up at the thought. Why did it hurt?
"Are you fighting with Adachi-san?" Nanako shrugged on her pajamas without too much fuss, but her expression seemed apprehensive. "You didn't look happy when you saw him."
"No, no," Yua responded quickly. Was the tension that obvious? "We're not fighting. I'm just surprised that, um, Uncle Dojima is feeling a bit sick."
Nanako grabbed her Loveline magnifying glass and examined her Big Sis for a moment before yawning and making a final declaration, "No fighting."
Yua couldn't help but smile, "No fighting."
When Nanako was sufficiently tucked in, Yua said her goodnights and left her room, returning to the kitchen. Adachi was already waiting out by the kitchen table.
"I put your uncle on the bed. Tucked him in as much as I could. Well, um, I guess I'll get going." Adachi ducked his head and made for the door.
"Wait." Both of them paused. "Would you like some tea before you go? I want to talk."
Adachi rubbed his neck, "Uh, sure… I guess."
Yua gestured to the kotatsu table for Adachi to sit, and he followed after some deliberation. She made tea in silence. Adachi and her uncle went out drinking together, but, taking a better look at him as he fidgeted with his phone, she didn't see any of the symptoms of drinking on him. He seemed just as nervous as she was when she placed the tea in front of him.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
They sat opposite each other. A charged silence held precariously between the two of them, neither willing to look up from their tea. The hours of pondering her feelings seemed useless as Yua struggled to find a starting point. Finally, she decided to start with the most recent event.
"You, uh, went drinking with Dojima," Yua cringed. The statement was more pointed than she intended.
"Well, umm… kinda. We were going out to celebrate Shirogane being found, but when I got there, I just—I just didn't feel like it." Adachi sighed. "I mean, I didn't want to. It didn't seem… right."
A spark of hope lit in her chest. She gripped her knees for support.
"Dojima mentioned that you have a girlfriend?"
"Oh, uh, yeah," Adachi glanced up at her. "Dojima kind of figured out that I was hiding someone in the room—you know, that morning. He doesn't know who it was—that it was… y'know. So, I had to make something up. We're safe."
There was an awkward pause. Adachi took a sip of his tea, slurping it a little.
"This is, uh, really good. Thank you, Yua."
Yua nodded.
He examined the cup in his hand. He put it down, hands shaking. He cleared his throat twice, and his expression fell.
"Yua, I can't express in words how sorry I am for everything that happened that night," his words were slow, barely above a whisper. "You should never have to be afraid of me. I failed you. I've failed you twice. When you told me you were afraid of me, that I hurt you, I just didn't want to accept it. The spots that I remember are like a horrible nightmare—but I was the monster. I didn't want to think that I'd done that to you. So, I got defensive instead of focusing on your feelings. I couldn't hear what you were saying. You should never even question feeling safe around me. I care about you. And if alcohol can make me ignore that, make me a different person, then I don't need it. I won't miss it."
Adachi pressed his palms into the table and bowed his head.
"I miss you. It's just not the same without you. You filled my day with so much light. I want you back. Please forgive me."
Yua was speechless. Seeing him so torn up, on the verge of tears, wounded her heart. Yua felt guilt rise in her throat. This man wasn't capable of the things she accused him of. He had never wanted to harm her, and she felt horrible that she had brought him to this. She wanted to take that burden from him.
It was her choice—it always had been. And she chose to have an honest relationship.
"Never again?"
Adachi snapped up, "Never, I'll never touch another drop."
Yua nodded solemnly; she swallowed before speaking, "I'll make a promise, too. It wasn't all your fault. When we had our argument, you said I was 'confusing.' I feel like—I know I'm not always clear about what I want. And I did want to be with you." She felt her chest tighten, and she lowered her voice even further. "But, you were drunk, and I was scared and confused, and that made you confused. And afterward, I implied such horrible things when I was... I'm… I'm so very sorry…"
"Sh, sh," his hand gripped hers, running his thumb over her hand.
"I don't want to be confusing, but sometimes I'm not sure about how I feel about new things. But I do know that I want to see you again. I miss you too. And I promise to be better at saying what I mean."
Adachi shuffled over to her on his knees until they were on the same side. He laced his fingers with hers, the nervousness and fear gone. Her grip tightened, and she gave in to the urge to be near him.
Yua leaned into Adachi, and his arm wrapped around to catch her. His embrace felt much more comforting. He pressed his lips to her forehead. That kind, patented Tohru smile returned.
The jester arcana was set right again.