infinityneverlasts: I sincerely apologize for the cliffhanger. Sadly, as a writer, I have no morals.
argenteusvipera: Thank you so much! Always appreciate your reviews!
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mmmgirl13: Thank you so much!
Oh, boy...I'm very sorry for the wait, guys. School ran me over like a truck, and looped around to do it again. At last, the school year is winding to a close, and I finally have actual daytime to myself again. Anywho, please let me know how you guys like this chapter. I struggled with how I felt about this chapter for a while, but hopefully it isn't a disappointing payoff of a long hiatus.
Every day of her life, Kosuke worries that everyone can see right inside of her, like a window. That they always know she isn't as strong or smart as she tries to convince them…and herself.
Except today. She is utterly opaque today.
Which, in all fairness, she did to herself by never mentioning Kohta even in passing. Probably, when everyone saw how she'd squirmed at their reunion, they'd decided that that could only mean this was a sour reunion. When the twins leer at him, and the Zukas glance at him sideways, and even Reiko seems wary of how close or far he stands to her, that's her fault. (Renge, though, is definitely not her fault.)
But Haruhi knows, Tamaki knows, and Minami knows, and they're not seeing, either. Haruhi is being the most normal about it all, as always, but every now and then she'll flick her eyes to Kosuke, and it leaves her rifling through her memories for every time she ever mentioned Kohta to her.
As for Tamaki and Minami? It's nothing short of horrifying.
And of course Jet—Toshi and Tomoko and Okina can't see her because they don't know her anymore.
But worst of all, truly, is that Kyoya doesn't see. Completely and undoubtedly her fault.
Kosuke is not heartbroken, or forlorn, or "waging a fiery battle with the feelings that stir in her heart like a tempest," or whatever the heck she'd seen in Renge's notepad.
No. She's guilty. She hasn't stopped being guilty ever since Kohta left; she just made herself stop thinking about it to focus on other things.
She'd wasted Kohta's time. Him alone was never enough to make her try harder for him. She'd spent more energy telling him that she cared than showing him. It wasn't fair to say that she had ever missed him, because she didn't just get to miss someone she could never lift a finger for.
Seeing how different her former friends are now, inside and out, opposites of the Karuizawa teenagers she used to know—it makes Kosuke realize that she has changed, too. But also, that that lazy, selfish, uncaring slob had still once existed, and that was how they remembered her. For Kohta, that lazy, selfish, uncaring slob had been his girlfriend, who always promised to do better but never did.
So no, she hadn't brought up Kohta before, and had hardly brought up Okina or the others before—because to do so would mean remembering what she used to be. It is her fault.
It's just that she's used to Kyoya seeing her. But she'd never told him, so it is her fault.
And this stupid, childish fight is still ongoing, and they can hardly mutter a syllable to one another. That's her fault, too.
Kosuke needs a minute, but there's none to be found. And when they walk into the arcade? Listening to a jackhammer pound at a gravel road would be more relaxing.
There's dancing lights, bubbly music, laughter and conversation, which she could normally take in stride, but right now, her brain is turning everything up to ten on the dial. She curls her toes in her shoes; tries to make herself heavier, closer to the earth. She wishes the pain in her arm would flare up again.
There has to be something she can focus on besides Kyoya, or Kohta, or Okina, or Tamaki, or Haruhi, or Karuizawa, or herself.
"Kosuke, look, look!"
Thank you, Hitsuji, my dearest. Kosuke follows, and has to stop him from mashing his face and hands against the glass of a claw machine. Inside are large, fluffy stuffed animals; foxes and wolves and lions, all with big shiny eyes and button noses. Hitsuji's targets are set on a red panda right in the middle.
"Look," he says again. "It's perfect. Can I get it?"
"Alright, step aside." Kosuke rolls up her sleeves and bends over the control stick. "Let's see what we're working with…"
"Can't you just, like…" Hikaru waves a hand around. "Give them some money, have them take it out for you?"
Before Kosuke can answer, Hitsuji declares (exactly what she was going to), "No, I've gotta win it! It's not the same."
"Looks like you're going to need some coins before you win anything."
Someone taps on her shoulder. Okina jabs a thumb behind her, her other hand jostling a cup that chimes and clinks. Geez, Kosuke thinks, that was fast. "You can get 'em over there at the front. Come find me when you get some, okay?"
She walks off, shooting finger-guns as she goes. As everyone else starts to spread, Kosuke sees that they're down by two—and the most worrisome two, at that. "What happened to Kyoya and Kohta?"
Tamaki presses a hand to her back and urges her forward, a semblance of his usual self. "Don't worry about it. Come on, now. So much to do, so little time left!"
Everyone takes their turn buying their cups full of coins. Toshi and Tomoko turn in Haruhi and Tamaki's direction, but Tamaki is already leading Haruhi away, declaring, "We must move quickly now, Haruhi, if we want to try everything here. Now, explain—why did we have to swap our real money for fake money?" Tomoko and Toshi shrug and go off on their own—but Kosuke knows by the glance they give one another that they have long ago picked up on Tamaki's cold shoulder.
Minami falls into step with the Zukas and tells them, "Kosuke says that every time I play a game with someone new, I have to warn them that I get really competitive, and I may need to be left alone for a minute, but I'm not trying to be mean."
Hitsuji hunkers down in front of the claw machine the second he gets his cup. The twins flank him on either side, cheering him on at the contraption they'd been sneering at just a few moments ago, "You've got this! Eyes on the prize!"
That leaves Kosuke to find Okina—and continue to wonder where her ex-boyfriend and current-fiancé are.
Kohta was right behind us...And why would it take Kyoya so long to buy candy?
She passes by two boys firing at digital monsters with plastic guns, pow-pow-pow! Between shots, they shoulder and push at each other.
Emiko had never let Kosuke play such games. She remembers years and years ago, maybe before Minami was born, Marti had gifted her a video game console for her birthday—a gift Emiko had not been very happy about, and only accepted under the condition that she approve every game Kosuke got. However long Kosuke had that console, she only ever remembers playing three games on it—one was a cooking simulator, another was a platformer with a princess protagonist and heart-shaped collectables, and the last was a block-stacking puzzle game.
Emiko had still sneered at the first game after approving it, saying all the steps in the recipes were incorrect and "watered-down." The second one was a gift from Emiko herself, and Kosuke only ever played it out of obligation, because it was a million years under her age demographic. The last one, though, she remembers playing a lot—they'd bought more controllers just so Marti and Emiko could join her, and battle each other for who could stack the fastest. Kosuke can safely say that Minami inherited their mother's competitiveness. She vividly remembers the lackadaisy music entwined with Emiko's growls…
Ah, great. From one bad line of thinking to another.
Just find Okina, and then you'll finally be able to get your mind off of—
Wait.
Is that…?
Kosuke steps off her course, further into the arcade, past a line of racing games with buckling seats, all the way to the back. There, she finds it.
Her white whale.
"Kosuke!" Okina calls for her, but Kosuke doesn't even turn. "Kosuke, there you are! Come on, let's…Oh."
Okina sees it, too, and places a hand upon Kosuke's shoulder. If anything, it makes the seething hate inside of her just burn hotter.
"What's wrong?"
The sound of Kyoya's voice jostles her out of it, for just a moment. Maybe Kohta is back, too—but she doesn't see him. Kyoya looks at Okina's hand on her shoulder, her fists curled at her sides. He peels the cup of coins out of her grasp before she can break it. Kosuke can't blame him for thinking she's gravely upset.
Because she is. Because of this—blight upon the earth's surface.
"Bad memories," Okina explains for her. "Lots of tears, and anguish. Some scars just don't heal, you know?"
Kyoya follows their eyes—one pair wary, the other acidic—to the source.
"'Loop-da-Whoop'?"
"Don't say its name," Kosuke spits.
Okay, she knows that she's being embarrassingly unreasonable and childish right now, but—
Actually, no. Her fury is righteous.
"So it is the children's game that caused you 'lots of tears and anguish'?"
"Don't say it like that!" Kosuke points a finger at his chest, but he doesn't even look down at it. "I have an incredibly valid reason to hate this thing with every fiber of my being!"
"Do tell."
Kosuke takes in a breath like smoke.
"Once, for my birthday, my mom took me and some friends to the arcade for the day. She gave us all our coins and set us free to do whatever we wanted. But this was the only thing I had my sights on." She circles her finger at the top of the machine, a great glass dome. Underneath, three lights spin in three layered loops. "You press the button to make the light stop at a certain spot. Do that for every ring, and you win."
Without any coins, the button does nothing when she presses it now. Oh, how she'd like to keep pressing in, until she tears the stupid red thing right out of its body and crushes it in her grasp.
"I tried. I played and I played and I played. Time and time again. But I just—could. Not. Get it! Always one light off. Got the first two, but missed the last one!"
"So, you didn't win."
"I didn't just not win, Kyoya." She follows one light with her eyes, and she swears she can feel it taunting her. Just try it! You'll never catch me! "That thing ruined my birthday! Before I knew it, we were leaving, and I'd wasted all my time and coins on one game. And then Mom was all annoyed with me for crying! 'You did it to yourself. I told you to try something else.' Which…Yeah. She was right. But I was eight. And sad."
Her fingers are pressed so hard into the button, they've gone white. She lifts her hand. Stares at her palm.
"This isn't healthy, is it?"
"Not at all," Kyoya affirms at once.
"I'm just going to walk away now. Yep." Kosuke wipes her hand on her pants leg, as if to brush away that little episode of hers. "There has to be something at least a little calm here, right? Like one of those things where you just sit down, and the screen shows you going up a rollercoaster, and the seat moves a little? Do they still have th—?"
"WINNER!"
Kosuke whirls around.
There's Kyoya and three lights, stopped right over the green markers. And lots of other lights, twinkling along to a victorious tune. Then, a little capsule, sliding from a chute at the bottom.
Kyoya pulls it out and pops it open. It's a keychain decoration: a cartoonish bowl of ramen, with a cute little face on the bowl, licking its lips.
"If it's any consolation," Kyoya says, as he dangles the ornament from his fingertip, "I don't think an eight-year-old would enjoy this very much."
He steps forward and takes Kosuke's limp hands, puts them together, unfolds her fingers, and drops the ornament inside.
"Not my taste," he says.
Kosuke curls her fingers around it.
And slaps her hand down on the button.
"Take that!" The lights are already circling again, but Kosuke keeps laughing. Yes, she's getting some weird looks, but she's been getting weird looks all day and she has never felt so alive! "Ya stupid hunk of metal! That's for my birthday! Great job, Kyoya!"
Maybe she's been low on dopamine, or adrenaline, for too long—because she throws her arms around him, pulling him into a hug, without any warning.
Again.
She throws herself off of him, bows, and says, "I'm very sorry that I did that." She hustles away.
Again.
She doesn't even know, or care, where she's going or how fast she's walking. She completely forgets about Okina, who jogs to catch up with her. "Do you always apologize to your fiancé for hugging him?"
"Every time," she answers without thinking. Uh-oh. She flicks her hand forward, so humiliated she's losing control of her limbs. "There was something you were wanting to play, right?"
"Oh, yeah! C'mon!"
Okina takes her by her wrist—realizes it's the one attached to the braced arm, and switches—and leads her away. Away from Kyoya. But not from her stupid, stupid, stupid brain and her stupid, stupid, stupid arms and her stupid, stupid, stupid huggy self!
On their way, they come to the claw machines again. Hitsuji is still there, determined as ever. The twins, too, but looking more haggard.
"Hitsuji," Kosuke calls to him. "Are you still after that same toy?"
"Yes," he calls back.
"Have you done anything else?"
"NO," he, and the twins, call back.
Okina pulls her forward again. She's clearly beelining for a destination—but then she spots something, and stops so quickly that the momentum has Kosuke walking a few steps ahead. "Hey, Haruhi. What'cha doing?"
Haruhi turns around, a hand to her face. Tamaki is on some kind of platform beside her, standing in front of a wall of buttons. At random, one lights up, and Tamaki strikes like lightning to catch it. 32, 33, 34…The high score is 302. Judging by the ferocity in his arms, Tamaki is planning on beating it. Sweat is pouring down his temples—but he still looks great, which is just plain unfair.
"Cheerleading, I guess, but I don't think he can hear me." She raises a hand like she's going to wave it in front of his face, but thinks better of it. "So much for trying to do everything."
"Come join us! Just over here!"
Okina pulls Kosuke along without waiting for an answer, but Haruhi follows. When Okina finds the game, there's only one of them left, and she dashes (with Kosuke in tow) for it. Kosuke remembers it, but the logo's characters have always been so bubbly she never quite made it out. Each game has two sides with a pair of bongo-like drums, with drumsticks to match. When was the last time she'd played it? Doesn't matter, she supposes. Not now that Okina and Haruhi are less than ten feet away from each other.
Ah, yes. The other, other, other thing that was turning her nerves to mush. The chance that it might slip that Kosuke and her friends had not, in fact, met up in Tokyo to hang out. Why had Kosuke lied, they might ask? Oh, for no real reason, except that she needed Haruhi and Ranka to babysit Hitsuji and Minami so she could go on a compensated date with a group of men in hopes of paying off a loan shark.
It hasn't come up yet, Kosuke tells herself. And if it comes up, just—redirect the conversation. Or something. Anything.
Okina slides the coin in and picks a song before Kosuke can even blink. She flips the drumsticks like a pro, and waves Haruhi forward. "Come on, you're up."
"Oh, I'm not really good at these things. Kosuke can go—"
"Think fast!"
The other pair of drumsticks come flying, and Haruhi just barely manages to catch them from the air. She takes her place next to Okina, but not without a sigh.
Off to the side, Kosuke tries to hide her cringing. She's sorry to say, but her ex-best friend and now-best friend just don't seem to mesh well. Of course, Haruhi loves her friends to death, but considering how prone they are to wrangling her into things she wants no part of, Kosuke more than understands that she doesn't need or want another person like that.
Even better, Okina has gone ahead and picked one of the harder difficulties, and while she pounds at the drums without missing a beat, Haruhi is left scrambling just to hit one.
Somehow not at all out of breath, Okina says, "Alright, now come on. Tell me some stories."
Haruhi's drumsticks stutter in the air. "Um—Well—"
"Come on, you've got to have some. What about from school?"
"Uh—" Bad! Miss! Miss! The screen flashes the words so many times, they seem stuck there. "We—ah—"
"Do you guys go travelling a lot? I bet. Where all have you been?"
Miss! Bad! Miss! Haruhi's teeth are gritting and her brow is starting to get dewy. "I—Uhhh—!"
Kosuke can't take it anymore. She jumps in to save her. "We actually just got back from a trip to the beach! I can tell you all about that!"
She does, and about halfway through, she realizes that wow, this game is going to go on a lot longer than she'd thought. At least Haruhi, though far from improving, doesn't have her attention split. After that story, Kosuke talks about some of Haruhi's trips to Karuizawa, the hikes they took, the places Kosuke had tour-guided for her. She keeps going as long as the game does, from things as big as the Great Snowball War (they both shiver) to as small as the bistro they visit whenever Haruhi is in.
Okina pops in with a few questions and laughs, but even then, Kosuke forgets for a minute that Okina is not new—or supposed to be new to her. Or that, hypothetically, Okina might have already known all these things, if she hadn't moved to Wakayama, or if they'd tried harder to stay in touch. Or that she and Okina, too, used to take hikes around the mountains and stop in town for their favorite bites to eat.
The two screens flash, respectively, YOU'RE A MASTER! and That was sad. Haruhi wipes her brow with her sleeve.
"Oof. Ah, well." Okina shrugs a bit too smugly. "Better luck next time."
Haruhi only gives a half-hearted laugh. Next time…
"Alright, Kosuke. You next." Okina waves her over. "You still got it?"
"We're about to find out, aren't we?"
Muscle memory (or aural memory? Kosuke thinks she remembers this song) takes over, and Kosuke doesn't even come close to Okina, but her screen flashes a mix of Bad!, Good!, and Great! Even one Perfect! That doesn't mean she doesn't feel the burn, though. Especially in her injured arm that she and Okina had both forgotten about.
"Hey, since you're such a good storyteller," Okina says over the music, "You should tell Haruhi about that time we got locked in the antique store!"
Kosuke frowns, but doesn't look away from the screen. "That time we got locked in what?"
"You know, that antique store a few streets away from Kohta's old place. The one with the creepy dolls and—Oh…" Okina trails off (but her rhythm doesn't). "I don't think you were there for that one."
Kosuke laughs it off. Okina tries again. "Okay, what about that time we went to that boutique and Toshi ruined one of those super-expensive cashmere sweaters?" Kosuke frowns again. "Remember? He shoved his head through one of the sleeves and stretched it out?"
"Uh…I don't think I was there for that, either."
"Huh. My bad. Well…Oh! Oh! You were definitely here for this—that time Tomoko brought her console to the pool and she thought she lost her stylus in the water? And she made them dredge the whole thing before she realized it was tucked behind her ear?"
"Um."
"No?"
"No…"
"Hm."
This time, Okina doesn't try again.
Thankfully, very much so, Haruhi catches how the mood has plummeted. She turns away from them, exclaiming, "Oh, hey! Tamaki's close to the high score!" She jogs away.
Okina and Kosuke finish the rest of the game in silence. Kosuke manages to get Not bad! Just like last time, however many years ago it was. But she used to beat Okina every time, and now Okina is putting her name into the high score list.
"Hey." Okina puts the drumsticks back and tucks her hands into her pockets. "I wasn't trying to embarrass you or anything. I'm sorry."
"No, no. It's okay." Kosuke waves her off. "If anything, I'm just jealous I wasn't there to join you guys. I would've loved to see how J—Toshi got his way out of that one."
"Speaking of 'Jatoshi'..." Okina raises her chin to the other side of the store. Tomoko, Toshi, and—there, finally—Kohta are lined up at the skee-ball lanes. Tomoko pumps her fist in the air as she rolls a ball into the highest score. "Want to join us in destroying him at skee-ball?"
"You go ahead. I may catch up in a bit."
"Alright. Hey, make sure you give Kyoya a proper smooch for that keychain, yeah? That's what you're supposed to do to your knight in shining armor."
She's already walking away as she says it, so Kosuke doesn't have to try too hard to hide the heat that takes over her cheeks.
She steps off the platform, muttering a quick excuse me to the teens who take her place, but then she goes nowhere. She still has her cup of coins, but no desire to use any of them. When she's been begging for distractions all day…
She shouldn't, but she looks back to the others at the lanes. Toshi shakes his head as he lands in the gutter again. Okina jumps in the air when she lands in the lowest score. Kohta lands in the highest, and only cracks a smirk when Okina curses him for it.
Kosuke isn't jealous. Mostly, because she has no right to be. If she'd tried harder, they wouldn't be strangers to her.
But…Well. She wasn't trying very hard when they weren't strangers, was she?
No, not today.
Nah, I'll pass.
'M too tired. Go on without me.
How many times did they try to be her friends, and she chose literal nothing over them? Were their invitations ever just obligatory?
A group of tweens pass, pressing her into the side of a machine—she can't just root herself to the spot like this. Maybe five steps later, she spots just what she'd been asking about earlier: a game with just two seats and a screen, with a point-of-view video of a rollercoaster ride. It's probably the oldest machine here—maybe why customers are avoiding it, in favor of the shinier, brighter things.
Kosuke climbs in, but doesn't buckle up, or even put in a coin. She just sits.
You've really got to stop feeling sorry for yourself when you see the consequences of your own actions…
But, no, she isn't feeling sorry for herself, she's holding herself accountable. She took the people closest to her for granted. She only gave them the time of day when she felt like it.
Kosuke knows she doesn't talk about the past very much. Everyone seems to pick up on it eventually—they stop asking after a while. Of course, a large part of it has to do with the two people who only live in her memories now. But it's shame, mostly—that in-between all the blank spaces where she couldn't be bothered to even try, are all the times she just ignored how everyone pleaded with her to just be better.
Including those two people.
The screen is on a still image of the rollercoaster track. She has that memory, at least—some summer or another, a day trip to another town. Okina only being brave enough for the carousel. Jet scarfing down so much candy that he's stuck leaning over a trash can while the rest of his friends continue the rides. Herself, clamoring for Kohta's hands even as the bars hold her firmly in place, as the rollercoaster plummets down.
Yes, she could have had more of that.
Familiar voices break through the cacophony of music. Kosuke shrinks back into her seat, begging not to be seen. Staring at an unmoving screen would obviously beg some concern.
"This one." Minami leans over the game, but stops herself from pressing against the glass. All Kosuke can see are what look like to be two nets, the handles jutting outside and the loops behind the glass. "You have to catch them with your net and put them in the basket."
She's expecting Hani or Mori to follow behind, not Kyoya, who is rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. "Are you going to be angry if I win?"
Minami recites again: "Yes, but I'm not trying to be mean, and I'll just need to be left alone for a minute."
"I have been warned," Kyoya quips.
Minami puts the coin in, and the game starts up. Balls start bouncing up in a torrent. Minami flails her net around to snatch them and bring them to her basket, but Kyoya keeps his composure, methodical in every movement. The corners of his lips are turned up. Kosuke feels hers do the same as she watches them.
She remembers she's supposed to be mad at him. Which she certainly is, but she'd like to stop now.
So now what? Minami does a little dance as another ball goes into her basket. Kyoya tuts. Do I just wait until we have some time alone? Pull him aside? What if he's not ready to stop being angry? I can't do that to him again, he was so upset last time.
There's another game between her and Minami and Kyoya, and the boy playing at it whoops as he scores. It makes Kyoya glance at him, much too close to Kosuke, and she shrinks back into the seat. Once he's focused again, she creeps out of the game.
As she puts her back to it, the skee-ball lanes fall into sight again. Kohta stands to the side—she wonders if he got kicked out of the competition for being too good. That's what usually happened. He seems unbothered, just laughing and shaking his head as the others fight for the gold.
Ah, maybe that was it. Jet was a tornado on legs, and Toshi is just your average, mannered man. Tomoko used to be inseparable from a game screen, and now she's a down-to-earth entrepreneur. Okina used to be a demure little ballerina, and now she's an in-your-face punk.
Kohta seems happier, now.
Kosuke peels her eyes away, and they land on her reflection, slightly blurred in the machine across from her. Today, she got out of bed, put on decent clothes, and walked outside of the house—all before three in the afternoon, and because she wanted to spend time with her friends and siblings.
I've changed a lot, too, I suppose.
Except…
Hold on.
She stares at herself. At what she's doing.
No.
No, I have not.
That's when Kosuke realizes, like a punch to the stomach: she is, truly, pathetic.
Because here she is, moping about how she just should've tried harder, when she's not even trying now.
Why did she wait so long to make Airi and Sugimoto tell her about Emiko? Because she didn't try. Why did Kyoya manage to get Minami to talk about her hatred of him, when Kosuke couldn't for months? Because she didn't try.
She's still just a giant coward who tells herself she's standing strong, when really, she's running away at the smallest upset.
And—God, this is what Kyoya was talking about. She couldn't face the fact that she's a human being, and when unexpected things like injuries happen, she has to deal with them instead of just ignoring it and calling that the best she can do!
She can't even tell a pushy makeup seller to leave her alone, for crying out loud!
Why do I have to keep realizing I need to be better? Why can't I just—
Kosuke raises a hand to slap herself, but stops. Instead, she presses her hand into her reflection, feels the cold metal under her fingers.
No. No more of that. Just do it. Keep going and be strong.
As she walks to Kyoya and Minami, she feels like she's burning. She's angry, and ashamed. And determined. It all fills her to burst, and when Kyoya turns to her, she almost lets out every tiny thought that comes to her. Each and every apology, and promise, and worry.
"Hey, Minami! Check this out."
You've got to be kidding me.
As he strolls over, Kohta tosses something back and forth between his hands. It looks like some kind of fluffy alien toy, which he bestows with a flourish to Minami. "Just won one of these; but it looks more like your style than mine. How about it?"
Minami's nose wrinkles like an accordion, and she sticks it up and away from the toy like it's something foul. "No."
"You sure? I really had to pry this away from Okina for you."
She barks, "I said no!"
"Minami," Kosuke exclaims, but Kohta waves a hand to her and says, "Hey, hey, it's okay. She's right. No means no. Wouldn't want to get her on Okina's bad side, either."
He gives her a comforting wink, and Kosuke cannot fathom how he could be so blasé about being hated by the same little girl he used to give piggyback rides to when she was too tired to get up the stairs.
With all the other sounds going off, Kosuke doesn't realize that Kyoya's phone has buzzed until he has it up to his ear and answering. He gives a nod to them, and quickly walks out of the arcade, out of sight.
Then comes a rigid hand on her shoulder, and a bright grin that is very intentionally blocking Kohta's face from view.
"Kosuke! Did you see that balloon-popping game? I think you'd enjoy it!"
Tamaki points, and she knows just the one he's talking about: all the way on the other side of the arcade, single-player, alone.
Before she gets too angry at Kohta, Tamaki, and whoever is calling Kyoya now, she reminds herself that there wouldn't be an interruption to begin with if she'd figured this out ages ago.
However…
"Speaking of." Kohta turns on his heel, waves over his shoulder. "I have to go protect my spot in first place."
As he goes, Tamaki keeps leaning into Kosuke's line of sight, blocking her view until they're both at forty-five degree angles, all while gritting his teeth behind a smile.
Fine. I'll deal with this, first.
"Actually!" Kosuke takes a gentle but firm hold on his elbow. "I saw a photo booth in here! Let's go do that!"
"Really? Great! Lead the way!"
"Minami, come along."
Minami frowns and holds up her cup of coins. "But I was supposed to go back and play more games with Mori and Hani and Reiko."
"You can after this. Come on."
Tamaki doesn't even question why she keeps a hold of his elbow on the way. At least, not until they pass Toshi, who cheerily invites Kosuke to come join them.
The side of Kosuke's body that Tamaki stands by goes cold as he clips out, "Kosuke is busy, so please carry on your way and stop bothering—Ah, ah, ah!"
That's when Kosuke pinches his arm, just enough to keep him from fleeing. She waves to Toshi kindly. "Thanks, but maybe later!"
Minami has to almost jog to keep up with her as she pulls Tamaki to the photo booth, which she all but stuffs him into. Kosuke doesn't have to do nearly as much for Minami—just one now look, and she scampers inside.
It's large, as far as photobooths go. But Tamaki is also tall, as far as men go, and three seems to be this booth's capacity. There's hardly a palm's worth of space between Kosuke and Tamaki on the bench, and his knees are almost against the wall. Minami sits haphazardly on his lap. However small they're trying to make themselves to fit, they still shrink when Kosuke draws the curtain shut and rounds on them.
"What has gotten into you two today."
Only Minami has room to fold her arms. Tamaki instead turns up his nose and tuts, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Kosuke pulls a leaf out of Emiko's book:
"One."
They frown.
"Two."
They quail.
"Th—"
"Okay, okay, okay!" They frantically chorus together, waving their hands for her to stop, when she hasn't budged an inch.
Huh. That really does work.
Tamaki holds up a hand like he's taking a pledge. "I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I have been acting unseemly, and going forward, I shall do my best to correct that. Please forgive me."
Minami mumbles something that sounds like sorry, but Kosuke shakes her head at both of them.
"I don't want you two to just apologize, I want you to tell me why you're acting like this. Why are you two being so temperamental around the others, huh? You've been snapping at them like dogs all day!"
Minami crosses her arms again. "Why aren't you being tempah—temmer—tem—" Tamaki whispers it to her. "Why aren't you being temperamental around them?"
"Answer me."
"I don't want to talk about this."
"Well, we are. Because clearly there's a problem, and we have to figure it out. So talk to me even if you don't want to, for just a little bit, and then we can try and do something to fix it. Alright?"
Minami does not verbally reply, but the strength that she hugs herself with weakens. Tamaki shifts behind her, and if he wasn't part of the problem, Kosuke might feel apologetic for making him part of an argument that has some history to it.
"Why are you two so angry at everyone?"
Tamaki's lips purse. "I'm not trying to go around in circles, Kosuke, but really…Why aren't you?"
Kosuke takes a deep breath. "Because I don't even know what I should be mad at them for to begin with. Whatever has you two all wound up, I have no idea!"
They both look troubled to hear this. Tamaki even looks pitying, which is not what this was supposed to become.
Tamaki opens his mouth to speak, but Minami beats him to it.
"They left."
"You're angry at them for leaving?" Minami nods. "Sweetie, Okina moved away. And Kohta went to college."
"She doesn't just mean literally," offers Tamaki. "Kosuke…I'm sorry, but I really don't think those people are your friends."
"What?"
"They did leave. When you needed them the most, I'd say. Friends don't let friends go through the things that you went through alone. They don't just—go, and then invite you to a random night out just to go again!"
They didn't.
Kosuke swallows. So that's what it is…
In all the time that's passed, she's never felt anger at Okina, Kohta, or the others. Just at herself. It had never once crossed her mind that they'd done something wrong.
"That's oversimplifying things."
"Is it? Did Tomoko and Toshi move away, too? Why didn't they keep in touch?"
"I was never really close to them to begin with. They were more Kohta's friends than mine."
"Speaking of…"
She huffs. "We'd broken up."
"Yes, Kosuke, it's the timing that I'm upset about."
"Well, what was he supposed to do, Tamaki? Stay with me even if he didn't want to, just to keep me happy?"
"No, he could've still been by you, not with you—to make sure you were okay."
So Kosuke decides to tell him more truth than she's comfortable telling herself.
"Kohta broke up with me long before that. He tried to. I didn't let him."
"Didn't let him?"
"Kohta isn't the villain in all this. I was selfish. I knew he wasn't happy—that I wasn't making him happy—but I guilted him into staying with me by making a bunch of fake promises. I told him I'd try harder, but I didn't. I never did. That's why he wasn't happy."
Kosuke looks down at her hands. When Kohta had broken up with her, they had been pink. Raw from all the cleaning. They'd stung, and that was all she had felt.
"He asked me to try for him, and I didn't. So why should he have done anything for me after that?"
When she raises her eyes, Minami's eyes are still downcast, but Tamaki looks stunned. It occurs to Kosuke that perhaps that was the most truthful she'd ever been to him—not redirecting conversation, or brushing off concerns.
Has she always been a liar?
Eventually Tamaki purses his lips, looks away to nothing. "Even so. I wouldn't have done that."
"I know. But I don't need you to be angry for me."
To which Tamaki replies with silence, and Kosuke thinks she's sedated him. For the rest of the day, anyway.
"What about Okina?"
Minami gives the side of the booth a small kick.
"She didn't have to go like that."
Suddenly Kosuke remembers.
The letter.
Minami had written Okina a letter, to be delivered by Kosuke on their "night out." She'd made Kosuke promise not to read it, and she did anyway. In crayon, Minami asked Okina to call Kosuke more, invite her to more parties, because Kosuke didn't smile as much anymore.
After what had happened at the end of that night, Kosuke had forgotten about it almost completely—enough that she didn't even think about putting on an act, even just a white lie here and there of a phone call. As far as Minami knows, she'd asked Okina for help, and Okina had answered with silence.
There's one curl on Minami's forehead that just refuses to stay in any tie, but still Kosuke brushes it back from her face.
"Sometimes," she tells her slowly, "People just grow apart. That's all. It's not that they leave, or that they stop trying. They just…fade away from each other."
"But you didn't have to."
"No, we didn't have to. But, we did. And the same goes for you. You don't have to be angry for me. Okay?"
She has to tap her thumb on Minami's cheekbone for her to respond. "Okay."
Tamaki and Minami's sullen faces mirror each other. But…Oh, what was that thing Marti used to say? "You can fix a broken plate, it'll just have cracks." Something like that.
"You guys don't have to be friends with any of the others. You don't even have to be friendly. Just be calm. No snapping, no blowing up in the middle of stores." She playfully bats at Minami's face, her hand a dog's maw, and she gets a giggle. "No biting! Just play nice until they leave."
"Okay," they affirm again.
"Good. Now let's take some pictures."
They can't fit all three of them into the frame no matter how much they try, but Minami fixes the photos with the little edits on the screen. That is, she covers the pictures with so many stars and sparkles that no one can be seen. Equality! They split the reel between the three of them.
Minami immediately catches sight of the Zukas when she steps out, and takes off with them without another word. Briefly, a hand rests on Kosuke's shoulder. But when she turns, Tamaki is already walking away.
Which leaves her to resume her mission. She just hopes that Kyoya isn't still on a call.
Aaaand here comes Hitsuji.
"Kosuke! Look, look!" Hitsuji swings the red panda stuffie all over the places, dancing in circles towards her, corralled away from crashing into the machines by the twins. "I did it!"
The twins cough. Hikaru snips, "We helped."
To which Hitsuji asks, wide-eyed and confused, "How?"
Kosuke ignores the twins' outrage. "Great job, buddy! What are you going to name him?"
"Uh…His name is…" His lips pout, then O, then cry, "Green Apple!"
"'Green Apple'?" Kaoru parrots. "For a name?"
"Green Apple is a perfectly respectable name for a perfectly respectable red panda," Kosuke corrects him. She takes Green Apple's paw and gives it a shake. "Welcome to the family, Green Apple."
A low, admiring whistle. Kohta, Okina, Toshi, and Tomoko all come bearing spoils. Okina has the most, tiny toys and little stuffies that don't really seem her style and were maybe wrangled from Kohta, who tosses a sparkling bouncy-ball up and down with one hand. He nods at Green Apple. "Look at you! Beat all of us by a landslide."
"Thanks," Hitsuji says, with the same simple politeness he always uses for strangers being nice to him. He doesn't hate Kohta because he doesn't remember Kohta, or what he did or did not do.
The twins look at Toshi and Tomoko—the former with nothing but a finger-sized figurine in a pod, and the latter with nothing at all. "Looks like you guys got smoked, huh?"
"Oh, I didn't win anything. I just got this from a vending machine." Toshi holds it up for them. A little wizard bounces against the plastic. "I thought it was quaint."
"There aren't a lot of non-electronic games to choose from here," sniffs Tomoko. She pulls her bulging messenger bag higher up on her shoulder. As she does, Haruhi joins them. "I already make a lot of effort to minimize my screen time to no more than ten minutes a day. I wouldn't want to compromise my efforts."
Oblivious to the flat looks the twins give to one another, she pulls her sleeve away from her wristwatch and grimaces. "Uh-oh. I think we should be heading out."
"Out?" Kosuke parrots dumbly. "Like—out-out? Away?"
"Yeah, we have to hop a few buses to get back," Kohta explains with a sigh. "We're probably going to be late getting back as-is."
Haruhi grimaces. "Oh, man. Sorry that we kept you guys!"
"Not at all," says Toshi.
"We're just happy we got to see you guys." Okina shifts the load in her arms so they can see her smile. "We were really lucky!"
Kohta nods his head to the side. "Do you guys want to walk with us to the bus stop?"
They all reconvene, Kyoya saying nothing about his call. As they all shuffle their way out, with Kosuke holding one of Green Apple's paws to hammock her between her and Hitsuji, she feels her mouth starting to go dry.
She had just worked up the long-overdue spine to actually open her mouth and speak, and now the people who led her to do so are leaving again. It's like they didn't really reunite; they just passed each other on their ways.
Even then…What is Kosuke supposed to say? Does it even matter to them now?
When they all make it outside, Minami points out the sky to them all in awe. It's in swathes of purple and pink and gold, and it truly sinks in just how long of a day it's been. The passengers waiting around the stop are sleepy-eyed and heavy in their shoulders. There's a father gently squeezing his son's hand to keep him from falling asleep right where he stands, and a woman clearly dreading the struggle she's going to have getting all her bags on the bus.
Everyone starts exchanging goodbyes, it-was-nice-to-meet-you. Tamaki is civil, as promised. He nods in acknowledgement, says a simple, "Take care." Okina complains that she's just now realized she's in two different shades of black, and Reiko sympathizes. Minami stays away from Kohta, and Hani stays away from Tomoko, so Mori stays away from both of them and just tells Toshi, "Safe travels."
Kosuke's fingers start to twitch at how wrong it feels. Isn't it?
"M'kay, you two." Okina bends down in front of the children and shows them her silver-ringed, black-nailed fists. "You keep up the karate, and you keep up the claw-machine-robbing. Got it?"
Hitsuji has Green Apple bump Okina's fist, but Minami does it herself—a little tap and a fleeting smile. Just not a forgiving one.
"And you two," Okina says to Tamaki and Haruhi, "You try to keep Kosuke out of trouble, yeah?"
"We'll do our best," Haruhi promises kindly. Tamaki nods.
Of course Okina saves Kosuke for last, but whether for the bittersweetness or the awkwardness, Kosuke can't tell. They both just stand in front of each other for a moment.
God. Kosuke has déjà vu.
"Do you still have my bike?"
She does; but it's collecting dust back in Karuizawa. "Yes. As for using it…"
"Hey, there's a reason it got to you in the first place."
"I still have Panjaboo, too. He sits in my window. Three arms and all."
"Eugh. You can keep him. That thing always creeped me out."
"You made him!"
"Badly!"
They both chuckle, and that seems to be what Okina needs to finally pull her into a hug. Spikes dig into Kosuke's skin, and her braced arm stings in protest, but she ignores it all.
Okina says, low enough that no one else hears, "I'm sorry that I stopped calling."
Okina's hair is a rich plum color. When they were younger, and both blonde, she and Kosuke would be mistaken as sisters.
Kosuke hugs tighter until the leather of Okina's jacket makes a quiet crackle. "Me, too."
When she pulls back, Okina swipes under her eye, but no tears are falling. She gives Kosuke's good arm a little thump with the side of her fist, and it's so new that Kosuke can't help but smile.
"You'll be okay?"
Kosuke nods. "Yeah. Don't worry."
She can see from the corner of her eye that Minami is still half-hiding behind Mori—watching, watching, watching, until she realizes she isn't going to get what she wants. Okina had given an apology, but no promise.
Which probably means that this was indeed over—again. Which also means that whatever regrets Kosuke has don't matter anymore. They've said what they needed to say, and now they move on, truly this time.
"Alright, guys, let's go." Toshi is walking sideways, trying to stay in the flow of people boarding the bus as he waves goodbye. "Take care!"
Tomoko falls in step behind him (mumbling about the gas emissions of the bus), and Okina blows them all a double-handed kiss.
Wait. Hold on—
Kohta grins at them all and salutes. "Fare thee well."
But—
Then, to Kyoya: "Keep an eye on her, yeah?"
He turns and boards the bus.
That can't be right, it can't be, but—now Kohta's gone. He steps through the door, becomes a shadow through the glass, and then nothing at all.
An arm wraps around her and rests on her opposite shoulder, startling her, but it's just Haruhi, giving her a comforting side-hug. The bus doors fold shut, and the engine purrs to life.
"That was a nice surprise, huh?" Haruhi asks.
No one verbally agrees. Hikaru coughs, and it sounds suspiciously close to "thank goodness."
But that can't be it, can it? This day was stretching so long just a while ago. Why, when Kosuke finally realized what she needed to do, did it begin to rush?
The bus creeps away from the curb, and though it's nothing more than a crawl, carefully merging into the traffic on the road, it might as well be long gone. She can't even understand that Okina and Kohta are still in there, settling down for a long way home.
A hand gently touches her shoulder. Kyoya is waiting for her, and Minami, too, but everyone else has already started walking away, moving on with their lives.
"Are you alright?" Kyoya asks.
"Yes," Kosuke answers without thinking. She didn't even mean to lie this time. It was as instinctual as pulling her hand away from a hot pan.
She turns away from the bus stop, and Minami takes her hand in hers, and Kosuke knows it's not just because that's the rule when they're in a crowded place.
Kosuke tries to keep moving on like everyone else, but every step just feels wrong, like the ground is uneven. She's…embarrassed.
At first she starts to scold herself again—You're just going to keep doing this, aren't you? Saying you'll be stronger and then bowing at the first breeze—but as she thinks about how Okina had looked at her, soft but resigned, she thinks that she's misunderstood. That for how much Kohta has changed, inside and out, it may be foolish to assume that he hasn't let go.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you're still just thinking about yourself.
Her footsteps slow to a stop.
"Kosuke?" Minami gives her arm a little jostle.
Goodness, she'd forgotten she wasn't walking alone. Kosuke looks down at her sister, then up ahead, past her friends as far she can see in the mall. It's a long stretch to the other side, and still so many people.
But if she remembers right, the buses stop at one end of the mall and then the other before taking to the streets.
Haruhi has slowed down to look back at her, and Tamaki too, but this time Kosuke doesn't wait for someone to call her name to snap her out of it. If she's going to do this, she has to do it now.
She turns to Kyoya, who's already looking at her, as he has been all day. For just a split second, she feels almost wretched—because he should have been her priority all day long and before then. Now she's putting him on the backburner again, but now she really, really has to. It's not a lie anymore.
"Minami, go take—" Haruhi's hand, she almost says, but Minami comes and takes Kyoya's instead. It shocks a brief smile onto Kosuke's face, but she sets it straight again as she speaks to him. "I'll be back. I just need to do something. Okay?"
Of course, he's worried. She's got to stop doing this to him.
But he trusts her, too. "Okay."
With that, Kosuke leaves them for the nearest exit.
The pavement that wraps around the mall is much sparser with people. She thinks she can almost see the other side, but not the bus, which went the other way.
It's nearly a clear shot, and Kosuke begins to walk. Then, a little more briskly.
Then she realizes that there's no way she's going to make it in time, so—knowing that she's going to look like a fool, but hey, she's been doing that all day—she runs.
Her sneakers pound against the pavement, and soon her heart against her ribcage. Her injured arm aches in protest, but she keeps going, never minding the baffled looks she's getting from passerby. She shouts apologies to anyone she comes near. An older woman lets out an "Oh, my!" as she dashes past her. A little boy sitting in the crook of his father's elbow laughs and shouts for her to "Go!"
The end of the pavement is coming closer and closer, but not fast enough, she fears. She just won't stop. Keep going, keep going…
She makes it. But the bus is the finish line—and there it is, sitting at the stop, and just as she rounds the corner, its doors fold shut once more.
"Wait, wait!"
Kosuke wrings what little adrenaline she has left and beelines for the bus, with much more bobbing and weaving now, one person asking if she's crazy, another barking at her to watch it.
She really doesn't mean to crash against the doors the way she does, but it sure does get the driver's attention. He's only startled for a split second, and then his face flattens. How often does he deal with this kind of stuff?
"Doors are closed," he says, like Kosuke can't see that. "You'll have to take the next one."
"No, no, I don't want to board—"
"Please step away from the doors."
"I don't want to board, there's someone in there I—"
Kohta appears.
He pops out from the rows of seats, blinking at her, and then turning to the bus driver. Kosuke can't hear them, but they banter for a bit, until at last the driver sighs and pulls the lever to open the doors again.
"You have thirty seconds," he warns them.
Kohta trots to the bottom step, looking like he's about to jump out. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
Of course he'd assume that there was some kind of emergency. Why else would someone marathon after him like a madwoman, the way she had? But Kosuke shakes her head, panting for breath, wincing as a flare of pain goes up her injured arm.
"No, no. Listen—I just—I just need you to listen."
His lips purse—obviously confused, and no less worried. The man in the front seat of the bus leans forward to watch them, interest piqued. The bus driver drums his fingers on the wheel. Around her, people are glancing at them, worried or fascinated or some mix of the two.
For a moment, Okina appears behind Kohta, just as wide-eyed and alarmed. She must see something on Kosuke's face, though, because she doesn't say a word. She moves back, and presumably returns to her seat, knowing that this is between the two of them.
Kosuke takes a deep gulp of breath because she doesn't want to stumble over a single word.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."
"What do you—"
"I'm sorry for the way I treated you when we were together. I'm sorry that I never listened to you, or made any effort to do anything to show that I actually cared about you. I'm sorry that I wasted your time. And I'm sorry that—that—" Well, she's stumbling anyway. There has to be something else to apologize for. It surely feels like it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Why can't she be more like Kyoya, and read someone's thoughts on their face? Kohta looks down at her from the steps of the bus and she doesn't know how. He could be annoyed (too little, too late) and he'd be entitled to that and Kosuke would accept it, but she just needs to know.
He extends a hand to her, palm-up.
Kosuke lifts a hand heavy with uncertainty, and just before it touches on the rough callouses of his fingers, she remembers that this is what she used to do to him. It meant, stop and listen to me.
But I never did much listening, did I? Kosuke thinks, just as Kohta curls his fingers under hers, almost daintily, and taps her knuckles with his thumb.
"Thank you," he says. And, "Take care."
Forgiveness, and yet his smile is still sad. Maybe he still pities her, after all this time. Maybe he just wishes it could have ended differently. Or maybe he, like she, knows that they are no longer part of the other's story, and there is no way of knowing if they will see each other again.
She doesn't know, and it doesn't matter—because he turns back onto the bus, and they wave at one another through the glass doors that shut between them, and the bus is gone, and all the history inside of it.
Just like the last time Kosuke had parted ways with them, she heads back into the present. She has a new life now, with new responsibilities, and there are things that she has to hold onto and things that she has to let go of.
It takes a minute to regroup with the others, and Kosuke can't blame them for the way that they look at her. Kosuke does not explain herself, and they do not ask. But what a pretty thing, she thinks, to have people who want to know.
It's her who asks a question. "Where's Kyoya?"
Haruhi winces. "Something came up at work. He had to go."
She must have sensed before Kosuke (she senses everything before Kosuke, her and Kyoya both, it's not fair) that she was finally ready to talk. Borderline needs to, after the day's events.
Kosuke's insides sour once again. "Oh."
Hikaru clears his throat. "I think there's still a few places we haven't stopped by, if anyone wants to?"
"Oh, yes, yes, we haven't much time left." Tamaki beckons them forward with both arms, definitely not glancing at Kosuke as he does so. "Come on, now. Who remembers the map?"
Kosuke appreciates that they leave her be—which is really ironic, now that she thinks of it, after all her agonizing about speaking up. But God…she's exhausted. And she thought that she had just enough left in her to fix this mess she'd made.
She trails at the rear of the group with Hitsuji by her side, but when she holds out a hand for his, he instead gives her Green Apple. Along with a pat on the arm.
The love and understanding only a six-year-old little brother can bring. Kosuke tucks Green Apple into the bend of her arm and gives Hitsuji's curls a ruffle. "Thanks, kiddo."
She has to be better. For herself, and the people she loves.
Chapter summary:
The group continues to the arcade, and things continue to be as tense as ever. The more time that Kosuke spends with everyone, the more she thinks about how much she'd missed out on because of her selfishness and laziness. This leads her to realize that despite all her guilt, she isn't trying as hard as she should with her friends and family now - she still runs away from the things she's supposed to be taking care of, especially her relationship with Kyoya. This newfound determination first leads her to confront Tamaki and Minami about their iciness to the others, and they confess that they are angry at them for abandoning Kosuke. The three of them talk things through, but shortly after, the Karuizawa group announces that it is time for them to leave. Kosuke and Okina exchange bittersweet goodbyes, but Kohta boards the bus before Kosuke can make any closure with him. She chases the bus to its next stop and apologizes to Kohta for her behavior in their relationship. Finally she and her old friends part ways, apparently for good. She returns to the others, now eager to settle things with Kyoya, only to discover that he has had to leave for work. Though disappointed, Kosuke still holds onto the determination to try harder for the people she loves.