Chapter Text
It was irritating really. Suddenly having to go out of his way to print off a bunch of stupid papers he shouldn’t even need. He had been sitting at his kitchen table for at least twenty minutes, cutting the bottom of each paper to separate the repeating phone number. Perhaps he had printed too many of them.
A loud groan escaped Yosuke as he leaned back in his chair to stretch his arms, fingers clasping his hands together to emphasize the movement. The front legs of his chair left the floor, as he continued to lean further back. His knees met the bottom of the table, the thing preventing him from falling over completely. Cracks similar to that of popcorn could be heard from his back and neck as he stretched his limbs to their limit.
Kicking his left foot in a downward motion, he flung himself forward, chair firmly planting itself on the ground with a loud thud. Another groan left him, as he glared at the scattered pile of fliers.
“This is bullshit!”
Fumbling hands compiled all of the papers into one sloppy heap of a pile as he quickly shoved them into a bright red messenger bag, grumbling in the process. He ruffled his hair in an irate fashion then leapt off the chair, swooping the strap of his bag onto his shoulder in one fluid motion. The floor boards creaked loudly in protest as Yosuke marched toward the apartment door, slamming it behind him.
The outside air was unbelievably chilly, causing him to shiver in response, his hair standing on end. For a brief moment, he considered grabbing a jacket, but figured he wouldn’t be in the cold long enough for it to matter.
Once he made it inside his small car, the heater was set to it’s highest, compensating for the low temperatures. Tossing his bag in the passenger seat, he let out a small huff of annoyance before proceeding to back out of the parking stall.
___
Yosuke was suddenly grateful he hadn’t decided to wear a jacket, as the room he was in felt like it was on fire. He grasped his dark v-neck and pulled it away from his collarbone as he stared down at the disheveled pile of papers left in front of him. They felt as if they were glaring back at him somehow- damn smug pieces of dead trees. A sigh left his body again, for what must have been the thousandth time that evening, as he thought about the aggravating conversation he had a few nights before.
___
“You have got to be kidding me, dude.”
The response resulted in a hard kick to Yosuke’s shin, a loud hiss of pain escaping him from the assault. “Ouch! Dude, seriously?” He leaned down to inspect the injury.
Chie puffed her cheeks and pulled her arms close to her chest. “Oh shut up, just let me finish what I was saying,” releasing her arms, she proceeded to place her hands on her hips, face turning serious. “It’s not like I was trying to abandon you or anything you know.”
Yosuke leaned against the kitchen counter, losing interest in the minor damage she had left on him. He ran a quick hand through his hair to swoop his messy bangs out of his face, only to have them slide right back in place, tickling his cheeks. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t change the fact that I can’t afford rent on my own here.”
The shorter girl retracted a little at what he said, guilt creeping up her spine. “Can’t you just get another roommate? Don’t tell me you’re that low on friends,” she chuckled.
His face contorted in offense, and he scoffed, voice cracking a little. “Wha-I, of course. Of course I have more friends,” he paused, “just not anyone that isn’t already living somewhere.”
Chie joined Yosuke in leaning against the counter and hummed in thought. Her fingers thrummed against a cabinet before she spoke. “Well, can’t you just ask the landlord if there are any smaller apartments available for lower rent?” She smiled over at Yosuke for a second, only to have it falter as she took note of his furrowed brows.
He sighed, leaning his head down to stare at the cheap kitchen flooring. His head was starting to pound. “No. That only changes rent by like, a whole five thousand yen. I’ve checked.”
An awkward silence loomed over the two. Chie fiddled with the jacket clinging to her waist, staring tensely at the wall in front of her, eyeing a crack invading the tiling. She desperately wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to break the silence.
Yosuke pushed himself violently off the counter, twisting to stare Chie in the eye. He then proceeded to slap his hand against his face, breaking the silence, and sliding it to the bottom of his chin. The sound was abrupt enough that to cause Chie to jump.
“Look,” Yosuke quietly spoke, “I understand that Yukiko wants to try to fend for herself, and you offered to help her, but seriously?” He grasped his face with his hand again, squeezing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “A little more notice would have been nice, and now I don’t know what I’m going to do about this lease.”
Chie looked up at him, a strange expression on her face. “...I’m sorry.”
Yosuke laughed, with no sign of amusement. “Yeah, I get it.” He turned away from her to step out of the kitchen. “I mean, I actually get it. It’s...” His expression turned dark, “fine. You probably just got sick of dealing with me.” A huff of air passed his lips. “I get it.”
“Yosuke, what the hell?” Chie walked to stand behind him, holding a hand out to touch him, then quickly pulling away. “That’s not it.” She clenched her hands into a fist, glaring at her feet. “Why do you always do that?”
Yosuke sneered. “Do what? Tell the truth?” He stormed toward the couch and slumped hard onto the old cushion. His brain was fuzzy, filling with all sorts of negative thoughts seemingly out of no where. A hand went in the air, attempting to swat the thoughts away in a frantic movement. He let out a long shaky breath.
Soft footsteps hit the ground as Chie followed Yosuke toward the couch. She remained standing near the arm, silent but fidgety.
“Ugh,” Yosuke swallowed passed a lump in his throat, taking a deep breath. “Just ignore what I said. I don’t know, man.”
Fingers nervously tugging at her sleeve, Chie stared at the side of Yosuke’s scrunched face, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t very good at being serious with people, and her lack of good input was starting to bite her in the ass. “You’re not the reason I’m leaving, Yosuke.” A pause. “I mean, sure, you’re super annoying sometimes-okay, most the time-but it’s kind of, um...” She looked away from him, awkwardly. “It’s kind of just how it’s been with you. It’s not bad, though. It’d be weird if you didn’t annoy me, to be honest. So...uh,” another pause, “can we stop having this weird heart to heart thing? It’s creeping me out.”
A small laugh left Yosuke. Listening to Chie attempt to console him was genuinely funny. “Oh man, you’re terrible at making people feel better.” He leaned over, laughing a little more heartily.
Chie looked over at Yosuke, giving him a sheepish smile.
“I think I can figure out the apartment.”
Large brown eyes connected with Yosuke’s. “What?” Chie leaned against the arm of the couch, hand bracing her chest in a dramatic fashion. “What made you suddenly come to that conclusion?”
Yosuke rose a brow at her, accusingly. “I wasn’t exactly given much choice.” He smiled up at her, trying to reassure her that he wasn’t mad anymore. “I’ll figure it out.”
___
A loud insistent beep brought Yosuke back to the present, his heart pounding a little from the startle. His hands had balled into fists, unknowingly destroying the flier in hand. Figuring it was ruined now, he crumpled it more-so, tossing it toward the trash bin a few feet away, only to miss it entirely. Huffing loudly, he shook his head at the lack of accuracy he had, walking over to place it nicely in the trash.
His nostrils filled with a mix of chemical smell and filth as he proceeded to lean against an unused washing machine. The air felt muffled and suffocating around him, causing him to breath heavily. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck, followed his collarbone then disappeared into his shirt collar.
He was the only resident in the facility at the moment, though a few machines were running alone without supervision. Yosuke felt strangely out of place, as he had no real business there, aside from needing to use the community cork board. His hands fiddled with the bottom of his worn shirt as he stared at a swirling washer in front of him, focusing on the flurry of colors.
All Yosuke had to do was place a few pieces of paper on the wall, then he was free to leave. However, his stubborn brain wasn’t listening to logic. Instead, he found himself fretting, sweating, and breathing heavily alone in a stuffy laundromat at eleven o’clock at night. He almost wished someone were there, because it would probably force him to actually do what he came for.
A foot made contact with the machine behind him, as he threw himself away from it. Damned if he were to stay there all night, letting his stupid brain scream at him. He was going to plaster the fliers all over the cork board, even if it left a bad impression, then leave the smothering place.
Returning to the mess of papers he had left on the folding table, he growled under his breath and aggressively smacked one of them against the cork board. His eyes darted all over the place searching for a thumb tack, irritated to discover there were none. Not even an old flier he could steal one from. The board was, in fact, completely empty. The paper fell out of his hand, landing lightly back on to the table.
Slowly curling down to the floor, he grasped his knees and stared underneath the table, huddling in a lose fetal position. His eyes were burning as tears began to form in the edges of them, sloppily brushing them away with his fingers. “Damn it.”
A small jingle forced Yosuke to jolt up, slamming his head hard on the bottom of the table above him. “Jesus Christ! That hurt!” Tears actually slid down his cheeks at that point, from the sheer amount of pain he suddenly found himself in. His hands were clutching his hair so firm, that his knuckles were paling, head starting to pound profusely.
“Is someone else in here?”
Yosuke’s heart leaped into his throat, as he heard a stranger calling out in the open. He freed one of his hands from his hair to grip the table, yanking himself up from the ground. The movement caused his head to spin. “Uh, hello.”
Footsteps echoed throughout the facility, and Yosuke assumed the new presence was making their way toward him. He slid his hand through his hair quickly, attempting to clean it up from the incident a few seconds before. It didn’t do much good, as his auburn hair flung itself free as soon as his hand left his head. Sighing in defeat, Yosuke rubbed his fingers over his cheeks to rid them of any sign of tears before, his free hand gripping the table behind him for support.
A few tense moments passed before Yosuke allowed his vision to clear up and view the person now just a few feet away from him. Odd silver hair caught his eyes before Yosuke spoke up. “Um, do you need this table or something?”
The stranger shuffled his feet a little, a tiny smile finding his lips. “Are you alright?”
“Huh, what?” Yosuke stumbled out, confused at the sudden question.
The young man standing in front of him was skinny and slightly shorter than Yosuke, sporting a simple white button up shirt, and slick gray slacks. He was well put together, aside from the odd styling of hair the man was wearing. It almost covered the top half of his eyes completely, and his bangs were sloppily placed across his forehead, ruining the otherwise very clean look he had overall.
The strange guy stared intensely at Yosuke for a moment, studying his slightly rosy cheeks and glossed over eyes. “It seemed as if you hurt yourself a moment ago.”
Yosuke blinked a few times in response. “Oh, uh, a little.” He met the stranger's eyes for a second before looking awkwardly to his side, eyeing the crumpled paper he put in the trash a few minutes ago. “Don’t know how, but I somehow slammed my head into this table,” a small laugh left his chest, “I’m very clumsy.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I don’t know. Just did somehow,” Yosuke shrugged, and turned around swiftly. The stranger was being awfully chatty, and Yosuke wasn’t particularly in a good mood. His hands hovered over paper, intent on simply gathering them up and trying again another day. He desperately wanted to go home.
“What are those?”
Yosuke flung a few papers into the air at the sudden voice, screeching elegantly as he did so. He could hear the man behind him laughing at his antics causing Yosuke’s face to flush violently as he frantically fumbled to grab the loose papers.
The back of his neck was burning, as he could feel eyes boring a hole into him. His shoulders hunched over, beginning to feel incredibly uncomfortable. Couldn’t this guy just leave him alone?
Shoving the fliers aggressively into his bag, Yosuke turned around briskly, eyes closed ignoring the guy next to him. His feet pounded against the worn out tile as he practically ran toward the exit, flinging the door open harshly. He shouted in objection as the freezing air assaulted him, goosebumps instantly forming on his skin.
Slamming the car door, he tossed his bag aside, and smashed his forehead into the steering wheel. Eyes closed, he took a long, deep breath. He found himself suddenly exhausted after trying to post his stupid roommate wanted fliers. It was typical that after all of that work he put into it, that it was for nothing. Silently cursing the laundromat for having no thumb tacks, he leaned back, shoved his key into the ignition, and revved up his car.
As he was about to back out, he heard a loud thud, jumping viciously at the intruding sound. He flung his vision over to his car window, hair swinging with the movement. One of his fliers was plastered against the window, and he rose a confused brow at it, before rolling it down.
The silver haired stranger stood in front him, shivering fiercely as he held out the flier toward Yosuke’s face. “I know you didn’t end up posting these, but does this offer still stand?”
Yosuke’s chest got tight at the question, and a chill ran up his spine as the offending air crept into his warm car. He stuttered out a response, “oh, y-yup. I mean, yes. Yeah.” Smooth one Yosuke. How many different versions of yes do you really need? He found himself anxiously criticizing his own speech patterns, cheeks flushing a little.
The other guy simply chuckled in response. “Now, do I have to call you for the details, or can we just make this quick at a nearby diner or something while we’re both free?”
“What?” Yosuke spit out, surprised at how direct this man was. “I, um, I mean, it’s kind of late, but if you want to we can...uh,” he found himself suddenly distracted by the man in front of him, who was letting out a low guttural laugh at Yosuke’s demise. “There’s a twenty-four hour diner about a block from here. If,” pausing to take in the expression of the stranger’s face for a second, which had changed from slightly amused to extremely amused, Yosuke continued, “if you want to.”
“Okay then. Shall we?” The odd man began walking around Yosuke’s car, and prompted him to open the passenger side door by tapping on the window. Yosuke nervously fumbled for the lock mechanism on the door panel, then found himself staring at his gear shift.
A sudden slam of the door caused Yosuke to spring his eyes upward, making contact with silver ones, before he quickly looked back to his dashboard.
“Man, you sure are fast to jump into a strangers car.”
“Well, you unlocked the door for one.”
Touchè.
Yosuke took in a shaky breath, hands white knuckling the steering wheel as he peered from the corner of his eyes at the stranger who was making himself comfortable in his car.
All Yosuke had to do was place a few pieces of paper on the corkboard, then he would have been free to leave. But now there was a stranger sitting in his passenger seat, insisting to go to a diner at eleven o’clock at night.
“So,” the unfamiliar voice chimed, “what’s the likelihood of this diner having a decent cup of coffee?”