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You should be sleeping, instead of lying tangled in your sheets, staring at the soft glow of your cellphone screen. Midnight has come and gone and nothing showed. Just the soft buzz of static and your own reflection staring back at you. It must be over, you think. It must have been Mitsuo, if the midnight channel doesn't show anyone else.
There is a small, very small but very dark part of you that wishes it wasn't true.
Because if someone had shown up on the screen; if there even a hint of a shape, or something different, a minute after midnight your phone would ring. A minute after midnight your phone would ring, you'd answer and it would be him. All flustered and panicked, looking to you for advice. It would be nice, to talk to him for a while. You haven't been able to hang out with him much, and you don't want to sound like you're favouring him but if you're honest with yourself he always has been your favourite friend. But lately...
You should be sleeping, instead of waiting for a phone call that won't come.
---
You should be taking notes, instead of glancing back at him out of the corner of your eye, nibbling on the end of your pencil and wondering if you'll have time to hang out with him at lunch. His uniform looks rumpled today, you think, and you wonder if he's had trouble sleeping too. Even if you know it's not for the same reason as you.
For once you're not prepared as the teacher calls on you to answer a question. You stand sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, what was the question?"
There's quiet, gossipy murmurs spreading throughout the class. You ignore them.
"Which line can a typhoon never cross?" The teacher repeats, patience cracking a bit around the edges.
Your mind is blank. You have no idea. "Uh-"
"The equator." His voice coughs quietly.
"The equator." You repeat, not daring to look down. The teacher frowns at you suspiciously.
"Correct. Now-"
You take your seat, warm gratefulness gathering in your chest. You tilt your head back subtly to whisper your thanks.
He leans forward, flashing you a small smile. "Anytime, partner."
Even though he's said it before, it still sends thrills down your spine.
You should be taking notes, instead of sitting there with a stupid grin on your face.
---
You should be restocking shelves, instead of watching him scowl and curse at an aisle full of mislabelled prices. When he called you you had a thousand things you should have picked instead, but you found you couldn't say no to his desperate tone. You still haven't had time to hang out with him; there's just too much to do. But you were called here to help, not to stare and certainly not to socialize. You adjust your precariously balanced box of canned peaches and try not to think about how cute it is when his nose wrinkles in exasperation as he stamps over prices with a mark-up gun. He hears you and looks, eyes wide and frazzled.
"Oh, you lost?" He asks, pausing to wipe sweat from his forehead. You grimace guilty.
"It's still a bit confusing." You answer noncommittally.
"Canned goods are two aisles over. I'd walk with you but I gotta fix this mess." He frowns. "I don't understand why we don't just fire them. Fricking useless." He mutters, mostly to himself.
You should be restocking shelves, instead of watching him work like a lovesick schoolgirl.
---
You should be asking around town, instead of hovering by his side, frowning at your shoes as he smiles through a rambling old man's rant. He's shooting you odd looks, but he doesn't ask, and you're tired of wandering around aimlessly asking people slightly suspicious questions when your Uncle has already been on edge.
"You okay?" You flinch, startled out of your thoughts. The old man left and you didn't even notice. He's looking at you, smile gone and eyes crinkled with concern. You smile at him tightly.
"Yeah, sorry. It's just been a long day."
He hums in understanding. "Yeah, you've been crazy busy lately. You should take a break sometime."
"Yeah," you mutter, wishing it were that simple.
He smiles sympathetically, clapping you on the shoulder. "Hey, after we finish asking around, why don't we go get Aiya with everyone? I'd say we've earned it, and it's not going to be foggy for a while, according to the forecast."
His attention warms you and you can't help but smile back. "I'd like that."
He nods, pulling out his phone. "I'll text everyone and let them know."
You should be asking around town, instead of wishing the day was over already.
---
You should be focused on getting Naoto out, instead of worrying yourself senseless over the large gash across his neck and collarbones. Just a little deeper and you don't know if a healing spell would have done any good. He's grumbling and rolling his eyes as Yukiko fusses, healing the wound in stages to avoid scarring. He's fine. You repeat to yourself. He's fine, and you don't need to worry. You should be worried about Naoto, limp in Kanji's arms from the shadow's trauma. But that seems more routine now, you muse, and gashes to the neck are not quite as common an occurrence.
"Normally I'd love the fact that your hands are all over me," He grumbles as he slips out of Yukiko's grip, "But seriously Yukiko, I think you got it all."
Yukiko's persona dissipates in a shower of light and feathers. "Don't be so rude. I'm done now."
He looks to you, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. You snicker. Yukiko's fan snaps threateningly, and you both look away. You don't feel like risking a fan to the face today, it's true, but mostly you take the opportunity to hide the fact that you're blushing. You're not sure how you'd explain it if he noticed.
You should be focused on getting Naoto out, instead of wondering if the wound left any mark on his skin.
---
You should be running into the TV world, armed to the teeth with your friends at your side, instead of slamming your fists helplessly into the door of interrogation room. It was her on the TV, you know it now. You don't understand how you missed it before. You're her family. Her big brother. You should have known.
"ADACHI." You scream and kick the door. "LET ME OUT."
You hear the detective mumble something about protocol and Dojima. You don't care.
"Come on!" You whisper desperately. All you get is more apologetic murmurs.
You wait, nervously pacing the length of the room. You shouldn't still be here. All you can think about is how alone she must be and how dangerous it is. It seems like an eternity before you hear a commotion outside the door. It's him and the others. You can hear his voice, demanding that you be let out. The door whips open and they all storm in, your Uncle angrily in pursuit.
"What's the meaning of this?" Dojima demands. He ignores your Uncle and turns to you instead.
"Nanako is missing." He says, expression stony.
"I know. I saw." You answer, eyes flicking towards the door.
"What?!" Your Uncle is angry. You're going to have to explain things. You're going to have to explain things and it will take more time. More time than you have.
He looks at you for direction, ever the right-hand man. You're not sure you have any.
You should be out the door and gone by now, instead of standing here in an anxious stupor.
---
You should be heading back to the entrance, instead of pushing everyone far past their limits, gripping your katana with cracked and bloodied knuckles. Your head is spinning and you've been making more and more mistakes. You don't think washing your uniform will make it presentable this time, you might have to buy a new one. One without rips and tears and blood. The shadow advances on you. Chie lies on the ground, unconscious from the last blow. Yukiko is racing to the rescue, flames scorching the floor. There isn't anyone to stop it, and you still haven't caught your breath. The shadow looms and reaches for you, and you brace yourself for the blow you can't lift your blade fast enough to prevent...
And he's there, shoving you out of the way, raising his knives in a flash of metal and a curse as the shadow's long claws rake down his forearms. He slashes it once, twice, and it's down, melting back down into the ground. He's yelling at you now, body shaking with adrenaline.
"Dammit, get a grip! We can't keep doing this!" He throws his knives on the ground and you flinch as they bounce, landing inches from you. "We're done." He growls. "We're done, we're going back. We can finish this tomorrow."
"But, Nanako..." Your voice is weaker than you thought it would be and you let it trail off, not trusting yourself to speak.
"I know," He says, kinder than a moment ago, "I know, but we still have time. We can finish this tomorrow; you're no good to her dead, right?"
You nod noncommittally. You let him pull you to your feet.
You should be heading back to the entrance, instead of making him drag you there.
---
You should be going home now, instead of standing outside the hospital in the gently falling snow. You're freezing, so much so that your shoulders are shaking and your fingers are numb, but you can't summon the will to leave. You can't bear to go back to that empty house, not when she should be happily perched across the low table as you help her with her homework, your Uncle sitting behind you reading the newspaper, sighing with contented exhaustion.
All the others have left but he lingers, hovering over your shoulder. You want to tell him to leave. You can feel your carefully crafted control crumbling and you don't want him to see. You open your mouth to tell him to leave, but there is a needy party of you, just big enough to stop you, that instead asks, "Do you think we made the right decision?"
He doesn't answer right away and your stomach drops. He must be angry with you. You know what Namatame took from him.
"I'm sorry I stopped you." You begin, words suddenly spilling out of your mouth. "I thought I made the right choice but what Namatame did...I can understand why you...especially because Nanako might not..." You stop, covering your face with your hands. Tears are falling down your face and you're not sure when they started. You dimly register him wrapping his arms around you, patting your back and telling you that he wasn't mad, and that you did make the right choice. When you don't respond he repeats it, over and over as the street lamps light up and the sky darkens.
You should be going home now, instead of quietly crying into his snow dusted shoulder.
---
You should be leaving now, instead of standing in your living room, duffle bag abandoned on the floor as you pace, agitated. He's here. Knocked on the door earlier than you ever thought he could wake up with a casual grin and a bag of bagels. You can't remember the last time you ate a bagel but now you're holding one, lightly toasted and buttered. He's sitting on the couch nibbling on his own, eyes tracking you as you pace back and forth.
"So," He mumbles around his bagel, "You're leaving today."
You pause. You finally take a bite of your own bagel. It's nice. He's watching you intently, waiting for you to respond. You don't remember him being this patient. It's frustrating.
"Yeah," You mumble back, mouth half full. You raise a hand to cover it and finish chewing. "Thanks for the bagel. It's...good."
He nods, face oddly tense as he stares at you. You've never felt more awkward in your life. He seems to notice and takes another pointed bite. You try not to notice as some crumbs cutely dust the end of his nose.
You should go.
"I should probably head out, I want a chance to say goodbye to everyone before I go." You place your bagel on the dining table and walk quickly back across the room to grab your duffel bag from its resting place in front of the television.
"I came here this morning because I wanted to tell you something." He says quickly, suddenly panicked. You look at him, bag half slung over your shoulder. His expression is sombre, but you can't help but notice the crumbs gathered now not only on his nose but also around the corners of his mouth. You force your eyes up.
"You can tell me anything." You reply honestly. Surprise crosses his face but is gone in an instant.
"I..." He trails off, looking away. "I don't know how to say it." He looks desperately at you, as if you should know what he's trying to say. You rack your brain. You can't think of anything, and you're no mind reader. Trying to figure it out only adds to your irritation.
You don't want to be angry with him right before you leave, so you compose yourself and smile at him, brimming with the compassion you've worked hard to cultivate. "You can walk with me, if you like. The train's not coming for a while yet so we have lots of time before I leave-"
"Don't go." His eyes look like they can't believe what his mouth is saying. "I-I..." He trails off and all the colour drains from his face. You panic and step forward, thinking he might pass out. Was he sick or something? How did you not notice?
"Yosuke, what-?"
"I like you."
You pause, blank white shock suddenly filling your mind. He stares. Though you didn't think it was possible his face goes a shade paler, then flushes all at once. He jumps up as though burned, arms crossing defensively.
"Sorry, I shouldn't," He stammers and stops, voice cracking, "That was stupid, I-"
Your mind finally catches up. "Yosuke-" You try to interrupt.
"-don't even know what I...can we just forget this ever happened? I mean, I...shit, Souji I'm really sorry-"
You try to step around the coffee table to get closer to him, letting your bag fall to the floor. He skitters around the opposite way, still babbling nervously. Anxiety hits you, but it can't overcome the lovely warmth and disbelief blossoming in your chest. "Yosuke-" You try again.
"I mean, I totally understand if this freaks you out but you know, I don't want-you know with us being friends-I...you know you can hit me if you want I probably would and-!"
He glances away from you and you seize your chance. You reach across the table and grip his collar, pulling him firmly forwards until you're nose to nose. He squeaks, then swallows nervously, eyes still wide with panic. "Yosuke," He blanches a little bit, so you soften your voice. "Yosuke, I like you too."
He blinks. "Oh." You both stare at each other for a moment. You have the sudden urge to brush away the crumbs still sprinkled across his face but he's looking at you blankly and you're not sure what that means. Your standoff is broken when his face abruptly scrunches into a scowl. He pushes you away and you let go of his collar, struggling to keep on your feet as you stumble over your duffle bag. You don't have time to feel anything as he advances around the coffee table, eyes flashing with irritation.
"What the hell man?!"
You fight to keep your face neutral as you try to figure out exactly what you did. Did you read the situation wrong? Maybe you should backtrack and take it back. He backs away from you, running his hands through his hair. "Um-"
"Seriously I thought I was going to die! Who just stands there when...geez dude." His voice lowers and he covers his face, shoulders trembling. It dawns on you, what it must have looked like while you were sorting out your thoughts.
"I'm sorry." You don't really know what else to say, for once. He peeks out at you from between his fingers, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Your heart breaks a little as you reach out to him, pulling him into an embrace. He doesn't object, nestling his face into the crook of your shoulder as he tries to calm down.
"You're leaving." He says, muffled by your shirt. You tighten your grip, trying to ignore the swirling thoughts of regret and frustration and the endless pull of loneliness that hasn't plagued you since you arrived here.
"I know. I'm sorry."
You should be leaving now, instead of standing in your living room trying desperately to think your way out of the trap time has made for you.
---
You can't help but think there's something you should be doing now, but when you ponder it nothing comes to mind. You walk slowly through the gathering mist, a closed umbrella in one hand and his arm in the other. He's carrying your duffel bag, clutching it as though holding it hostage might prevent you from leaving. It's cold for the season; your breath gathers in clouds and the tips of your nose and fingers are already numb. You intended to stop by everyone's houses before you left but they have already gathered at the train station, eager to see you off. Your Uncle won't make it to the station, desperate to run to the hospital and hover by Nanako's side. Recovering, but still weak, had been the answer when you asked about her.
You're almost at the station. You stop. The street is deserted and thick with fog. In the distance you can hear the man with the gas mask screeching about Junes. You sigh. This weather can't clear soon enough.
"Partner?" He's looking at you with a question in his eyes, but you know if you didn't answer he'd still fall in step beside you, comfortable with your silence just as well as your speech. Your relationship might be changing now but he's been your right-hand man since the day you met. You can rely on him. You tighten your grip on his arm and his gaze grows sharper, concerned. You can rely on him, almost to a fault.
"I'm going to come back, during my breaks." You glance away, suddenly nervous but mostly determined. If this goes wrong, well, you won't be here for long. The distance would heal what your apologies wouldn't. "So," You lean forward and he swallows, eyes flickering across your face, but he doesn't move away and it's easier than you thought it would be, to close the distance and press your lips gently to the corner of his mouth. His cheek is warm against your nose, but his lips are cold and dry and they tense under your touch. He hums lowly, but you don't linger long enough to figure out if it's approval or not. You pull away, heart thudding somewhere in your throat and you're sure you're blushing. "Will you wait for me?" You ask tightly, almost breathless. You don't think anything's ever mattered to you more.
He lifts his other hand to touch his lips, the corners twitching into a small smile. His face lights up and practically glows with happiness. You go weak in the knees with relief as he nods feverishly. You open your mouth to say something, but you quickly forget it as he grabs you by the collar, pulling you gracelessly into an attempted kiss that has your noses clashing painfully together. You tilt your head and let him pull you closer, his fingertips suddenly pressing cold against your hot cheeks. He doesn't miss this time and presses his lips to yours, uncoordinated and a little too harsh as he boldly deepens the kiss past what you dared earlier. An electric tingle zips down your spine to your toes, stunning you before you realize that the kiss is over and he's pulling away, murmuring something about not knowing what he's doing.
Your face breaks out in an uncontrollable smile and you laugh, dropping your umbrella into a puddle with a splash. You pull him into a tight embrace, ignoring his indignant protests and half-hearted flailing.
You can't help but think there's something you should be doing, but right now you can't bring yourself to care.
---
You got on the train, just like you should have. Your parents are returning in three days and they expect you to be there. You try not to feel bitter about it and don't quite succeed. You feel nervous, more nervous than you feel is appropriate for leaving Inaba. You've never been this anxious when leaving a place before. It's almost as though there's something you've forgotten, something so incredibly important that you're feeling pre-emptively guilty for missing it. You dismiss it as a side effect of Yosuke confessing his feelings for you only hours ago. You don't want to leave him, but you know you have to. You don't have a choice this time.
As the train pulls away from the station you glance back through the window, squinting to try and pick out the shapes of your friends in the fog. All you can see is their barely shadowed outlines. Your phone chimes. It's a text message from Yosuke.
See u soon, partner.
You clutch your phone to your chest, trying to ignore the irrational coil of dread settling in your stomach.