Work Text:
Lay me between Love and Hope
So that in my darkest moments
I may be in reach of both
Yashiro Nene let herself into the apartment and called a quiet hello, only to be met with silence. It was odd for it to be like this on a Thursday afternoon, when there was usually a riot in the kitchen as dinner was being prepared.
But this was nice too.
The day had been just awful. She’d been called in early and had to work a double shift. The wedding they were catering added ten guests at the last minute, and the bride had decided, after confirming her menu (plated, beef and fish, after three brutal menu tastings) the week before, that she was now vegan.
Now, usually Nene enjoyed whipping up vegan dishes and relished the challenge her chefs would set her. But not for a bride who was notoriously picky. Not ten minutes before entrees were supposed to go out. And not when the new cook had just dumped half a container of limoncello beurre blanc on Nene’s shoes.
So she’d squished her way into the cooler to find something, anything , she could give this bride to match the plated dishes they had planned. Luckily, there was pressed tofu waiting, and just enough vegetables to make a pretty confetti to go over rice.
It was not Nene’s best work, but the bride had loved it, and that was all that mattered.
Now, her feet ached, and her head, and her back. All she wanted to do was sink into the couch and sleep until someone came home to make dinner. But the scent of lemon, butter, and cream was starting to make her sick, and a shower was necessary.
She detoured to the bedroom to scrounge up a clean t shirt, before digging through the laundry basket she’d told someone to put away to find shorts and panties. The bathroom was just as she’d left it in her hurry to get out the door this morning; towels heaped over the side of the tub, and her mascara haphazardly shoved in the toothbrush holder.
She took a minute as the water warmed to put everything into its rightful place, before climbing into the spray with a delighted sigh. Heat seeped into tired muscles, and Nene knew she’d have to hurry or she’d fall asleep here.
She scrubbed at her hair and skin, wiping away the day in a haze of strawberry scented bubbles and warmth. Sleep was nipping at her heels now, movements sluggish as she climbed out of the shower and into her towel.
Everything here was muscle memory. Moisturizer and lotion, into her night clothes, brush her teeth and towel dry her hair. Her towel went into the hamper with her work clothes and she headed straight for the bedroom to her left.
Nene face planted into the mattress, dragging herself under the star patterned quilt before falling into a dreamless sleep.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before something tugged her to the edge of waking. There was a heavy weight pressed between her shoulder blades, and the gentle thump-thump of a heartbeat beneath her cheek. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know who was where.
If someone had told her, back in middle school, in high school even, that she’d fall in love with Yugi Amane, she would have called them a fool. He was short, and pervy, accident prone and just barely on the mischievous side of being an asshole.
But, when he wasn’t being a menace and teasing her about her “lovely daikon ankles”, he was actually a very sweet and kind boy. He was fiercely loyal to the few friends he had, and would do absolutely anything to make them happy.
He loved space, loved the stars and the moon, and had wanted to be an astronaut. A career suggestion by their homeroom teacher, Tsuchigomori-sensei, had backfired on the man. Now Amane was a science teacher, molding minds in the same classroom he’d tried to skip classes in as a student.
But falling in love with Amane, as much as Nene had resisted, wasn’t just falling in love with the boy. It was learning, at times, she would come in second to his twin. Yugi Tsukasa was outgoing where Amane was shy, and loud where his big brother was quiet. It was learning to love Tsukasa too.
Amane had sat her down one evening, when they had finally taken the jump from “I think I love you.” to, “I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” and spilled the whole sad story of his and Tsukasa’s childhood. How they’d only had each other for so long, before Tsuchigomori had swooped in and adopted them.
Amane and Tsukasa had been AmaneAndTsukasa for so long, they’d forgotten how to separate themselves. “You learn,” he said after she’d soaked two handkerchiefs and bundled him into her arms, “that you can only rely on the person who's always been beside you.”
They’d learned, under Tsuchigomori’s gentle hand and Yashiro’s persistent friendship, that they didn’t only have to rely on each other from here on out. That Minamoto Kou and Mitsuba Sousuke could be dragged along for anything, and that Nanamine Sakura, who’s blank expression was often mistaken for disinterest, was Tsukasa’s favorite person, right after Amane and Nene.
Amane had explained that sometimes nightmares and memories would haunt them, and if Tsukasa needed him, he’d have to go. Nene couldn’t say she completely understood, having grown up an only child, but she’d grown to love Tsukasa, and she refused to lose Amane.
The first night she’d stayed at Amane’s, Tsukasa had teased them both, winking at them from his own bedroom door. It was a few weeks later she’d woken to the sound of a muffled scream, and Amane had vaulted over her and out the door.
It happened again, after a few weeks, and this time Tsukasa had gently nudged his way between her and Amane. The next time, terror in both of their amber moon eyes, Nene had dragged them both into her arms. Amane tucked his face against her neck, and Tsukasa wound his arms around her waist, hiding himself in the frills of her shirt against her belly.
She’d run her fingers through their hair, murmuring nonsense until they’d both quieted back into sleep. Nene had considered unwinding herself to sleep on the couch, when the thought crept in; why? Sure, to a lot of people, (even her at one point), this was weird. But it had somehow become normal to her, to fall asleep and wake up with one or both of them curled around her.
And that's where Nene found herself now.
Amane had managed to wedge himself under her, his left hand cupped around her shoulder, the other more than likely resting on Tsukasa’s back; the gentle rise and fall of his chest meant he’d more than likely sleep through the night.
Tsukasa was curled against her back, one arm thrown over her side to curl in Amane’s shirt, the other was tucked between them. Every breath, slow and steady, fanned against her shoulder. It was moments like this, when he was silent and asleep, that she was hard pressed to recall this was the same boy who’d gotten them thrown out of two bars.
She loved Tsukasa, couldn’t imagine her life without him or Amane now. One of the best parts of her day was being tackle hugged (because hugging was a contact sport in this family), and the bright call of “Nene-nee!” which had embarrassed her once upon a time.
Tomorrow she’d wake up with her hair in tangles, and whatever teasing they’d heap upon her. (Amane’s quip about buttered daikon would leave him with a bruised cheek courtesy of a headbutt, and Tsukasa would fare no better when she kicked him off the bed.)
But Nene wouldn’t trade this for the world now, cuddled between her two favorite people. This was where everything was right, where sorrow was turned to happiness, and loss was turned to love. Nene reached out and threaded her fingers through Tsukasa’s, and curled her hand around Amane’s shoulder.
She sighed as sleep caught her again, the twins breathing like a lullaby in her ears. There was a brush against the top of her head that may have been a kiss, and all Nene could do was smile.