Chapter Text
Yuuji’s world was spinning.
He had no idea how long it had been since they had stumbled into the bar; an hour, two hours? Music vibrated through his body as he swayed with the beat to some pop song that he didn’t know. His arm was slung over Megumi as they wobbled together, the remains of Yuuji’s drink sloshing precariously in his cup.
Their group was scattered across the bar. Toge, Yuuta, and Panda were at the other end doing god knows what, but they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Panda was sandwiched between the two, arms looped with each one. His eyes were trained on Toge, likely worried about the repercussions of his sticky fingers.
Nobara and Maki were on the dance floor a couple of feet away from them. From the looks of it, Nobara was talking her fiancee’s head off, while Maki was looking at her like she hung the stars.
To be honest, Yuuji was pretty worried about Maki, especially with how argumentative she had gotten with the bouncer, but as soon as they made it in, she softened up. Nobara usually seemed to have that effect on her.
Yuuji took a deep breath, resting his head in the crook of Megumi’s neck. His eyes could barely focus. In hindsight, Yuuji really should not have gone shot for shot with Maki. That woman was a tank. Now, he was facing the consequences.
He had to admit it was nice, though, to have an excuse to lean against his best friend like this. Megumi didn’t seem to mind either, swaying lazily with him. The man had also taken quite a few shots, which was unusual for him; the bride had gotten what she wanted on her special day, and Yuuji definitely wasn’t complaining.
He couldn’t remember the last time they were both drunk like this. Megumi rarely indulged, and on the days he did, Yuuji usually didn’t mind stepping back and staying sober for the night, if only to thoroughly enjoy Megumi’s drunken ‘flirtations’. It was usually more hilarious than sexy, and he always looked forward to teasing him the next day.
But now, with both of them swaying under the bar’s dim lighting, it felt more … dangerous. With Megumi’s body pressed against him, Yuuji could delude himself that this was normal. That he could slowly drop his hand from his friend's shoulder, lower and lower, until it was circling around his waist.
Before he could stop himself, Yuuji’s hand travelled down to Megumi’s belt loop, hooking his finger to pull him closer.
Megumi hummed at the movement. He looked down at Yuuji’s hand, then shot him a lazy smirk as best as he could in their odd position. “Am I a belt? Because I think you’re hooked on me.”
Yuuji laughed, pulling his head up to look at him. There was a dopey smile on Megumi’s face, the expression so foreign, yet somehow natural on his features. Yuuji wanted to etch it into his memory. “That one doesn’t even make sense, Megumi.”
“It does, you’re just too drunk to get it.” Megumi’s smile didn’t fade as he pushed back against Yuuji, looking up at the ceiling above them. “Ok, ok, let me try again. I think my belt is broken, because I can’t keep my pants on around you.”
A shocked laugh erupted from him, rumbling deep in his chest as Yuuji stumbled back, taking Megumi with him. “Really? That’s the one you’re going with? Your pants falling off?”
Megumi nodded. “Yup. Not just that. They disintegrate. Straight up explode. Boom.” He made a small explosion motion with his hands in front of him, nearly losing his balance.
“You might need to get that checked out,” Yuuji giggled.
Megumi pulled Yuuji close, his breath hot on the shell of his ear. He grabbed Yuuji’s spare hand and guided it to the cold metal of his zipper. “You wanna check it out for me?”
The tips of Yuuji’s ears burned, his face feeling warmer than it had all night. He jerks his hand away from his hold, as if burned.
He’s drunk. He doesn’t mean it. Pull yourself together, Itadori.
“I-I think I need some water.”
Megumi blew a raspberry straight into his ear right as pulled away. “Prude. Get me a rum and coke.”
“You’re getting water, too” Yuuji said, already sobering up from how fast his heart was beating. I’m not going to survive this. “I’ll be right back.”
He pushed through the throng of bodies as he beelined towards the bar.
Water. Water would be good. And a nice cold shower.
There was no way that Yuuji was going to make it through tonight with his dignity intact, not while Megumi was talking like that. Yuuji could barely conceal his crush when he was sober, but now? With Megumi’s inhibitions lowered and Yuuji’s better judgement completely offline, it was a recipe for disaster.
Don’t throw away nearly a decade worth of friendship over one night out. Megumi flirts with everyone. It’s famously his thing. He wouldn’t be saying this to you if he were sober.
I just need to make it through the night.
Yuuji braced himself on the bar, taking a deep breath in. The bartender finally made his way over. “Two waters, please–”
“Hell no!” Yuuji whipped his head around to find Nobara storming up to him. Where did she even come from? “Two – what? Vodka crans?”
Yuuji sighed. Might as well get a drink he liked. “Rum and cokes.”
“Two rum and cokes!”
“And a glass of water, please.”
The bartender nodded, already disappearing somewhere behind the bar.
Nobara punched his shoulder, the gesture a bit too rough for Yuuji’s nauseous state. “You better not be sobering up asshole, my bachelorette party just got started!”
“Don’t worry, I’m at like … a six.” Yuuji assured her, grabbing a random stool to sit on. He had been at an 8, but that zipper comment had basically deleted two shots from his system. His face warmed up just at the thought of it.
“Oh wow, that’s high on the ‘Itadori drunk scale’. The highest I’ve seen you at is a five,” Nobara mused as she sat down next to him.
“Maki’s fault,” Yuuji said, resting his head on his hand. “That woman can drink.”
Nobara turned to look at him, her lower lip suddenly beginning to warble. “Have I ever told you how good of a friend you are? You’re really such a good friend Yuuji. I don't know what I would do without you. You’re here getting wasted for me. Like, what would my life even be if we never met? I would be so sad and depressed and no one would hold my shopping bags or my hair when I threw up–”
Yuuji threw his hand over her shoulder to pull her into a hug, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. It was always so sweet when Nobara got all rambly like this, even though she would vehemently deny her words the next morning. “I love you too, Nobara.”
“And you’re such a good guy, like, anyone would be lucky to have you. And you and Megumi would be perfect together–”
Not this again. Yuuji ran a hand down his face. “Nobara–”
“I know! I know!” Nobara said, holding her hands up in defeat. “You’re going to ask him out at the wedding. We have it planned, I’m going to pass you the bouquet, I remember. But you better go through with it because he’s not gonna wait around forever, you know! Megumi is hot! Don’t give me that face, he gets bitches! Look, he’s getting a bitch right now!”
Yuuji whips his head around, following Nobara’s line of sight. There, at the bar, Megumi was talking to some guy. From this angle, Yuuji couldn’t see the guy’s face, but Megumi seemed engaged in the conversation. Was he already too late?
Nobara seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she nearly shoved him off of his stool in Megumi’s direction. Yuuji would’ve fallen if he hadn’t already been gripping the bar so tight. “What are you waiting for? Go to him!”
“Right, yeah,” Yuuji nodded dumbly. He chugged half of the drink, and stumbled his way over.
Megumi was engrossed in conversation with the guy, eyebrows knit in concentration, when Yuuji slung his arm over his shoulders. He pulled him close, levelling his gaze at the man across from him.
The man was average looking, his hair in a ridiculous ponytail with two chunks pulled out, and was wearing the most painfully bright Hawaiian shirt that he’d seen in his life. This guy was Megumi’s type?
“Is he causing you any trouble?” Yuuji asked, squeezing Megumi’s shoulder to emphasize the question.
Megumi smirks at him, eyes darting from where his hand was resting on his shoulder to Yuuji’s lips. “No, but I wouldn’t mind if this guy did.”
The man’s gaze flitted between the two of them, then down to Yuuji’s arms, which were flexed tight against his shirt. Color drained from his face. “Oh-sorry, I- look, it’s really not like that—”
Megumi rolls his eyes, tapping Yuuji’s arm. He loosens his hold, albeit reluctantly. “He needs our help.”
“Huh?”
“Tell him what you told me,” Megumi said a little too loudly, leaning against the bar.
“Do you happen to know a ‘Toji Zen’in’?”
Yuuji’s brows furrowed. It sounded so familiar … “Oh! Zen’in! Like Maki!”
“Do you where he is?” The man asked, leaning in closer.
“Oh, Maki’s over there, I think,” Yuuji said, pointing in the general direction of the dance floor. “Or, maybe not. Huh, where is she?”
“No, not Maki. He’s looking for a guy named Toji,” Megumi said, his words slurring together slightly. “Does it ring any bells?”
Yuuji frowned, concentrating. It was hard to focus in the midst of loud chatter from the bar and the thrum of the music in the background. Toji, Toji. He’s heard that name somewhere before. He’s seen it somewhere, it’s right at the edge of his memory. “Wait, think I’ve met him.”
“You have?!” Two heads turned to him, twin expressions of shock.
Yuuji shook his head. “I don’t remember, I can’t think straight… but it’ll come to me! I promise! We’re gonna help you out, dude!”
“Thank you, but really, if you don’t know the guy–”
Yuuji shook his head, pulling the other guy into a half hug. “No! I swear, I’ve heard that name before. It’ll come to me, it’ll come to me.”
Megumi rolled his eyes. “Sure. Somehow, you know him and not me, and I’m apparently related to the guy.”
The other man seemed unconvinced, eyes flitting between the two of them. “Really, it’s no trouble, I can get going–”
Indignation surged through him. Yuuji faced the guy, frowning. “Are you calling me a liar?”
The contents of the cup sloshed as he turned, soaking the front of the man’s shirt with the dark liquid.
Yuuji’s eyes widened. He began to pat the man’s chest profusely. “Oh shit, oh fuck man, I’m so sorry.”
The man frowned, pushing Yuuji up and away from where he was pawing at his chest. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“No dude, this is totally my fault.” Yuuji looked around for napkins, to no avail. “Look, we can just switch, it’s no big deal.”
“Switch what?” Megumi asked.
“Switch shirts, obviously.” Yuuji had already started to pull his shirt over his head, when the man pulled his hand down.
“Really, it’s not necessary, I don’t care,” he said, while Megumi muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Do that again.”
“But I do– wait, what’s your name again?”
The man sighed. “Kamo.”
“I do care, Kamo. I’ll be upset all night.” Yuuji gave him his best puppy eyes.
“I have the feeling you’re gonna follow me around all night if I don’t switch shirts with you, right?”
Yuuji nods vigorously.
“Ok, whatever. Fine. But let’s not strip here, ok?” Kamo’s eyes shifted down the bar, before pushing past him toward the back by the bathrooms.
Yuuji was about to follow, shooting Megumi a concerned glance. “Do you want to come with?”
“Nah,” he said, half heartedly chewing on his straw. “Don’t need to piss.
Yuuji nodded and took note of where Nobara and Maki were sitting not too far away. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m fine.” Megumi paused, looking Yuuji up and down, eyes landing down south. “Unless you’re putting on a show, then I’m happy to join.”
“Freak,” Yuuji laughed, not even flustered by the sheer ridiculousness of Megumi watching him piss. He pushed a glass of water toward him. “Drink that, I’m serious. You’re making less sense than before.”
Megumi rolled his eyes and shoved him toward the bathroom. “Don’t get lost.”
By the time Yuuji made it to the bathroom, he was feeling dizzier than before. Thankfully there wasn’t a line, and Yuuji pushed through the door without resistance.
Kamo was standing by the sink, messing with his hair. Yuuji found that funny, as if there was anything he could do to fix that disastrous hairstyle he had. Maybe he was trying to make it worse on purpose?
Not wanting to waste any time, Kamo unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it into Yuuji’s hand. Yuuji returned the favor, and began buttoning the stained one.
“Be careful with that shirt,” Yuuji started, watching as Kamo pulled it on over his head. “It’s a privilege to wear Megan’s name.”
Kamo frowned. “Thank you. We really didn’t need to do this, but I appreciate it. I guess.”
Yuuji pulled him into a hug, squeezing tight until Kamo clapped his back for surrender. “No problem dude! And we’re going to find that guy!”
He pulled back, almost tripping over himself. Yuuji’s vision turned blurry, his eyes struggling to focus. The floor twisted and turned as he blinked, a kaleidoscope of dirty white tiles. Bile rose to his throat, while something sinister stirred in his stomach.
“I’m heading back out,” Kamo said, giving Yuuji a quick once over. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Yuuji smiled. He leaned back against the stall door, closing his eyes. He tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the rising nausea and the spinning in his head. “Just need to take a dump.”
The bathroom door slams shut. Yuuji screwed his eyes tighter, focused on not gagging. He hated throwing up, and he would not be yakking in a bar bathroom if he had anything to say about it.
Yuuji stumbled into the stall, fumbling with the lock. His head was spinning worse than before, and he was barely able to stay upright.
His thoughts, as they often did, drifted toward Megumi.
What if Kamo had approached Megumi to ask him out? It wasn’t that outlandish to assume. Nobara was right; Megumi was hot.
No, hot wasn’t the right word. He was beautiful. He was the kind of beautiful that made Yuuji believe in God, because how else could someone be so ethereal without a divine being sculpting them with the utmost care? He was the kind of beautiful that Yuuji wanted to tattoo onto his eyelids, just so that he could see him every time he blinked. He wondered if that would hurt. Like, eyelids are really thin, right? Could a tattoo needle even pierce that? Yuuji’s not sure. But he would do it. He would go through that pain, just to see Megumi. Or maybe, he could just stare at a really bright image of Megumi and then the image of him could be burned into Yuuji’s retinas, like when you accidentally stare at the sun for too long and suddenly you’re seeing a blue spot everywhere. Except it would be Megumi everywhere. That would be nice.
But the afterimage of Megumi wouldn’t be enough. No, Yuuji was too greedy. He wanted to have him, he wanted to hold him, he wanted Megumi to be his. But, unfortunately, so did everyone with eyes. Yuuji needed to act, he needed to tell Megumi how he felt right fucking now.
He stood up abruptly, fumbling way too long with his zipper because his fingers felt like sausages that were duct-taped to his hand. Were these even his fingers? What if they really were sausages? What would sausage fingers taste like?
His eyelids felt heavy as he struggled to orient himself. Yuuji pulled himself to the sink, staring at his hands in wonder as they tingled under the warm water.
As he grabbed a paper towel, he caught sight of his own reflection. His hair was mussed and his eyes were droopy and dazed. He did a double take of his own outfit, confused as to why the hell he was wearing a god awful, obnoxiously bright, Hawaiian shirt, until the events from a couple minutes ago dawned on him.
Jesus, just what was in that last drink?
He splashed his face with water, and slapped his cheeks. Get it together.
The door opened again, and Yuuji whipped his head around.
There, framed in the shitty bar bathroom lighting, was Megumi.
Yuuji blinked, making sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Then launched himself at the other man.
“What the hell?” Megumi mumbled, but Yuuji ignored him.
“Megumi!” Yuuji exclaimed. Well, tried to exclaim, but it came out muffled as his face was pressed into his best friend’s chest. Yuuji’s arms wrapped around his torso tightly. Had Megumi grown taller? Was the alcohol making him shrink? Is that a thing that happens when you get too wasted? Yuuji had never been over an 8 before on the drunk scale. Do you start shrinking when you get to 9? “I was just thinking about you.”
“Get off of me.” Megumi tried to pry Yuuji’s hands away, which only made him grip tighter.
“No, I need to tell you something.” He had to say it now, or else Megumi was going to go away. Forever. If Yuuji didn’t say it now, then he would explode, and he was way too young to explode.
Megumi grunted, pushing forward into the bathroom and taking Yuuji with him. “What the hell are you even talking about?”
Yuuji buried his face even deeper into his chest, unwilling to look Megumi in the eyes. Just say it, rip off the bandaid, you can do it, Yuuji, said a voice in his head. It sounds suspiciously like Nobara. You’ve felt this way for almost six years, just do it, tell him!
“I said, get off of me, brat–”
“I’m in love with you.”
The car ride is uncomfortably silent.
Yuuji stares outside the passenger window, drumming his fingers along the edge. He tries to take in the city passing by, but his mind is elsewhere, swept up in the chaos of this morning.
It feels like Yuuji is going from one heart attack to the next. Waking up next to Megumi half-naked with absolutely no memory of it shaved five years off of his lifespan. It might’ve been fine if he had even a minute to process that, but then found out that Maki murdered some guy, the guy was wearing Yuuji’s shirt, Nobara started crashing out, and suddenly Yuuji was getting dragged to the car against his will.
It’s too early for this.
Blacking out also has him kind of freaked. He’s never forgotten an entire night like that. The more he thinks about the gaps, the more questions he has, and the worse his headache gets.
The car takes a sharp turn at the light. Yuuji uses the dashboard to brace himself, and Toge nearly falls onto Yuuta in the backseat.
No one addresses it.
Maki’s hands are tight on the steering wheel. Her knuckles are white, and her jaw is tense as she stares at the road in front of her.
The silence is nearly oppressive now. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and Yuuji feels like he’s choking on it. He makes eye contact with Yuuta in the rearview mirror, who is sporting a similar concerned expression. They have a silent war through eyes alone, which Yuuji unfortunately loses.
Yuuta nods his head toward Maki, and Yuuji holds back a sigh. He squeezes his eyes shut, and prays to all the gods he knows that he doesn’t end up the second victim.
“So,” Yuuji starts, glancing over to the driver’s seat. “You and Nobara.”
In the rearview mirror, Yuuji can see Yuuta facepalming.
A muscle jumps in Maki’s jaw. “What about us?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Yuuji mumbles. “You guys just seemed a little … off this morning.”
“We’re fine,” she seethes, hands gripping the wheel even tighter. “Drop it, pinkie.”
“Right, sorry.” Yuuta glares at him from the backseat. Yuuji gives him his best puppy eyes. It doesn’t work. Reluctantly, he tries again. “It’s just– I was wondering, why didn’t you stay back with her? You know, instead of Megumi?”
Maki stays silent.
Against his better judgment, Yuuji continues. “I mean, Megumi’s great, don’t get me wrong, but pep talks really aren’t his thing, you know? I just feel like, as her fiancee, you would–”
The car takes a sharp left turn, and Yuuji’s head slams into the window with a thud.
“We’re here.”
Maki climbs out immediately. The three of them jolt as the car door slams behind her.
“Well, that went well,” Yuuta sighs. Toge is wearing a matching exhausted expression.
Yuuij shrugs. “I tried, dude.”
“What, are you idiots waiting for an invitation?” Maki snaps, voice muffled through the glass. “Come on. Panda’s car isn’t here.”
The three of them share a look, and file out of the car immediately.
They scope out the entire parking lot, which isn’t much more than a couple of slanted, way too cramped rows, to no avail. Despite their checking, there are no signs of Panda’s Prius anywhere.
“This is bad,” Yuuji mutters. “His location is still not popping up?”
Maki frowns at her phone. “Nope. His last location was here.”
The bar itself is empty, as to be expected on a Saturday morning. The neon signs lining the walls are dull, and the light streaming through the windows illuminates the grimy state of the scuffed up floors. They check each booth and under each table for a sleeping Panda, a phone, a clue, anything.
Yuuji frowns. The bar feels familiar, tugging at something in the back of his mind. Scenes and images flash across his memory, too short and incomprehensible for him to parse. They feel almost like a dream, fleeting and fuzzy, a reality that he had observed rather than experienced.
God, how fucked up was he last night?
He makes his way to the back and spots the bathrooms tucked into a small corner. Bingo. Hopefully, Panda’s passed out in a stall, just like in college.
The bathroom is tiny, with grimy white tiles, a line of urinals and a couple stalls. There’s writing on the walls, most likely drunk ramblings the bar was too lazy to paint over. Yuuji kicks open both of the stall doors. Empty.
Something niggles at the back of his brain, a memory bubbling up unbidden. For the first time this morning, Yuuji remembers being here last night. He remembers seeing his reflection in the mirror, and then Megumi was here and—
Oh.
Fuck.
Yuuji’s heart stops.
Did I actually confess to Megumi last night?
He winces at the memory. The way that Megumi had stiffened immediately. The look of palpable disgust written on his face. It was more than clear that Megumi didn’t feel the same way. Yuuji remembers the feeling of his hope disintegrating, of looking at his best friend and seeing a stranger staring back.
His heart sinks to his ass.
It’s ok, Yuuji tells himself. He grips the edge of the sink, catching his breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s fine. Megumi told you he doesn’t remember anything from last night, which means he doesn’t remember the confession. This isn't the end of the world.
Bile rises in Yuuji’s throat, and he braces himself against the sink. Even if Megumi doesn’t remember, a rejection is still a rejection. Alcohol might make you more impulsive, but it doesn’t change your feelings.
It’s fine, honestly. Actually, it might be better this way. At least now Yuuji won’t make a fool of himself at the wedding. He knows what answer to expect, so he can just avoid asking the question. Megumi doesn’t like him like that, and that is ok. He will be ok.
Yuuji gags again.
A knock at the door pulls him out of his spiral.
“Dude? You in there?” Maki calls
He runs a hand through his hair and slaps his cheeks. Pull yourself together. We need to find Panda.
“What’s up?” he asks, hoping that his voice comes out more casual and less like he’s two seconds away from breaking down.
Maki, to her credit, either doesn’t seem to notice or ignores it. “The bartender is back. He might know something.”
Yuuji nods, following her to the bar.
Yuuta and Toge are already there, nodding politely as the bartender speaks. He’s an average looking guy, with brown hair and a simple black t-shirt with the bar name written on the front.
“–like I said, I remember him here, but I have no idea where he went. I think I saw the three of you leave together though.” The bartender says, eyes landing on Yuuji and Maki. “Oh, you two. You were here last night, too.”
“Did we leave with Panda, too?” Yuuji asks.
“No, the five of you left a bit later, I think. I remember the pink-haired guy ordering a round of shots right before, and the big guy and these two weren’t there for that. At least, not on the tab.”
Maki frowns. “The five of us?”
“Yeah. You two, the girl with the sash, the spiky haired guy, and the guy with the Hawaiian shirt. Yelling something about ‘sakuras’.” His gaze drops down to Yuuji’s stained shirt, but he doesn’t say anything. “That’s all I know. Sorry, I wish I could be more help.”
Yuuji swallows. If the dead guy was wearing his shirt, and Yuuji was wearing a Hawaiian shirt—
“You’ve been really helpful, thank you,” Yuuta smiles, eyes crinkling. “Just one last thing — I know you said nothing has turned up, but did anything go missing last night?”
“Oh yeah, a bunch of stuff actually. My fucking keys and wallet for one, and a ton of shit from the vending machine. Why? Did you guys see anything last night?”
Toge shifts next to him, not meeting the bartender’s eyes.
Yuuta’s smile never falters. “Oh, no reason, just wondering. Thank you, really.”
Once they’re out of earshot, Yuuta holds his hands out toward Toge expectantly. “Give it.”
Reluctantly, Toge pulls out a worn leather wallet, car keys, a couple stray Hello Panda crackers, and an ornamental frog.
“Dude,” Yuuji chastises, while Maki just snorts.
“Panda was watching you the whole time, how did you even swipe these?” Yuuta asks.
Toge just shrugs in response.
“Stolen wallet aside,” Yuuji clears his throat, “it seems like you guys left with Panda and we left with–”
“The dead guy.” All eyes shift to Maki. She continues. “I know, I know. We need to figure out what happened. You two follow the leads on Panda. We’ll try to find out where we went.”
Yuuta nods. “I saw some of those same crackers on the floor of the parking lot, so maybe we’ll start there. We’ll keep you updated.”
The two of them make their way out of the bar. The vending machine by the door is cleared out, a large crack splitting the glass. Toge eyes the broken vending machine with guilt as they leave and Yuuta lets out a heavy sigh.
Yuuji slumps into a booth, holding his head in his hands. This is bad. They were seen leaving with the guy by the bartender. Whatever happened to the Hawaiian Shirt guy, they were probably part of it.
It’s all too much, his head is pounding, he’s wearing a dead guy’s shirt, and he might have fucked up the one relationship that means the most to him in the world. Great day, overall.
“What’s got you down in the dumps?” Maki asks, sliding into the booth across from him.
He eyes her, frowning. “What’s there not to be down about? We might have murdered a guy.”
Maki purses her lips into a line. “We don’t know that,” she says, but her arms are crossed tight against her chest.
“How do we even begin to find out where we went from the bar? We took that guy with us too,” Yuuji mutters, mostly to himself. He turns to Maki. “You’re a notorious heavyweight, you have to remember something about last night, right?’
“I still remember the bar,” Maki admits. “Even if it's a little fuzzy at the end. But after you ordered that last round of shots, it’s all blank.”
Yuuji nods. So Maki remembers a little more than the rest of them. They could work with that. “Do you remember why we were talking about ‘sakuras’? Or why we took that guy with us?”
Maki pinches her eyebrows together in thought. “He was looking for someone, but I don’t remember who. He thought we could help, for some reason. I don’t know much past that.”
Looking for someone? Yuuji searches his memories, but they come up frustratingly blank. “Maybe we left to look for whoever it was?”
Maki shrugs. “It’s possible.” There’s a tension in her movements, a sort of anxiety that she’s trying to hide. She’d been like this all morning.
“Hey, for real though,” Yuuji says, pursing his lips. “Are you and Nobara ok?”
For so long, the two of them had been the golden couple. Throughout college, Nobara and Maki had managed to stay stable, consoling the rest of them with their relationship woes. Hell, they’re getting married soon. Yuuji had never seen them fight like this – it was something he had no idea how to approach.
“I don’t know,” Maki admits. Her gaze is concentrated staunchly on the wood grain of the table. “I don’t think she remembers what we talked about, but I do. And I think that’s worse.”
Yuuji lets out a dry laugh. “Believe me, I get it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Does that have anything to do with the round of shots you bought for your ‘broken heart’ last night?”
“Is that what I said?” Bitterly, Yuuji realizes that means the rejection was probably real and not just a dream he confused for a memory. It hurts, but Yuuji expects it.
“That and ‘If I remember tonight, then I’ve failed’.”
Yuuji snorts. “Jinx’ed myself there. I remembered the one part I wanted to forget.”
“The curse of having the highest tolerance. Megumi and Nobara get to live in ignorance, while we’re burdened with the truth,” Maki remarks, resting her head on her hand.
“I’ll drink to that.” He looks over to the bar, contemplating if it was too early to grab a drink.
There is a new figure there, perched on one of the stools. The man is nursing a beer, wearing some sort of uniform. He isn’t talking, but the bartender doesn’t seem bothered by his presence.
“Maybe he knows something,” Yuuji muses, already shuffling to get out of his seat.
Maki tugs him back roughly.
“Idiot,” she hisses. “That guy is a police officer!”
“So?”
“So, two people who might be implicated in,” she looks around, dropping her voice to a whisper, “a murder, probably shouldn’t go talking to the police.”
“I know,” Yuuji huffs. “But, there’s something so familiar about him, something that I can’t place. I think we met him last night.”
“That’s a lot riding on ‘I think’,” she frowns.
“But do we have any other leads? It’s either this, or waiting around for Yuuta and Toge.” Yuuji crosses his arms over his chest.
They lock eyes, both refusing to blink in a silent battle of wills.
“Fine,” Maki finally says and Yuuji pumps his fist. “But we keep it vague, ok?”
He nods, following her lead over the bar.
The man seems unbothered by their presence. He’s wearing a typical police uniform with a light blue button up and dark navy pants, but the tie and hat are missing. His hair is dark and unkempt, falling over his face in messy strands. Yuuji notices a scar at the right edge of his mouth, faded and dull.
There is a single golden star pinned to his shirt, and a small nameplate underneath it, that reads Officer Kong Shiu.
He looks up, meeting Yuuj’s gaze with sharp green eyes. It’s unnervingly familiar. “Can I help you?”
Yuuji swallows, regretting the decision to come over here already. An odd feeling crawls under his skin, gnawing at his subconscious.
Thankfully, Maki responds for him. “We were wondering if you’ve seen or heard anything about a friend of ours. Big bulky guy, goes by Panda.”
The man, Kong, gives Maki a once over, before returning to attention Yuuji. “You were here last night.”
“I was,” Yuuji says. Maki gives him a warning look, but Yuuji ignores it. “Were you here last night?”
He grunts and takes a sip of his beer. “I’m here most nights.”
Yuuji looks to Maki, who gives him a shrug. The man returns his attention back to his drink.
“Do you happen to know about sakuras nearby?” Yuuji tries again.
“Come back in spring, kid.”
Yuuji falters. He didn’t think about that.
“Not actual sakuras,” Maki huffs, shooting Yuuji a pointed look. “But any people with that name? Or anything in town?”
Kong pauses, tapping his finger on the can. “There’s a small chapel nearby that runs overnight. Called ‘Sakura Lane’. Could be what you’re looking for.”
Yuuji and Maki lock eyes. It sounds familiar, and by the glint in Maki’s eyes, she remembers it too.
“Thank you,” Yuuji says, torn between whether to bow or not. The man doesn’t seem to care, giving him a disinterested nod.
“I hope you find your friend. Though, I would be careful if I were you,” he says. His expression turns dark.
Yuuji swallows thickly, and Maki tenses next to him. There’s a sort of unease hovering over them, a swallowed secret they’re both choking on.
“Don’t go poking around things that you’re not involved in.” Kong takes a long swig of his beer, then crushes the empty can in his fist. “It might be the last thing you ever do.”