Work Text:
Feelings, Amagi Yukiko decided, were annoying.
Of course, it should have been obvious how she felt from the very beginning of this messed up hero’s journey she was on. The malevolent manifestation of her innermost thoughts referred to Chie Satonaka as “my prince~”, if that wasn’t some kind of bell ringer right there then what the hell was?
Well, if Yukiko decided that question was worth answering, she would say, do you really want to know? followed by something along the lines of getting transported to an aethereal cinema and then subsequently trapped there with not only her friends, but two groups of people—persona users at that—that she’s never met.
She fiddled with the charms on her cellphone as Kirijo led their group through the labyrinth. It wasn’t clear to her why, but she really admired the red haired woman. Despite being only a year older than her (technically, quite a few more, but time was wonky wherever they were) she held a level of professionalism and sophistication Yukiko could only dream of.
But there was another thing that caught her attention. Whenever she saw Kirijo outside of the labyrinth, she was always in animated discussion with one of her team members, Takeba. Takeba was far different from Kirijo; more animated, more social, and more prone to bursts of laughter and joy than Kirijo ever was. They appeared to be really good friends at face value, but Yukiko could tell that wasn’t it. She didn’t really know what it was, but she knew ‘friends’ wasn’t the word.
And then there was the other one: Niijima. She was the opposite of Kirijo when they entered the labyrinth; where Kirijo was collected and quick-witted, Niijima was aggressive and relentless. It showed in their combat styles, where Mitsuru wielded a thin rapier with exceptional poise and Makoto resorted to martial arts. But once they exited the labyrinth, Niijima had a level of poise and sophistication similar to Mitsuru. Not completely identical, but it was clear she was the more serious member of the Phantom Thieves. She excelled in her classes, and was focused and determined to find a way out of the strange cinema they were all trapped in.
(Of course, Satonaka was incredibly drawn to Niijima as well. Because Niijima was good at fighting. Yep. That’s definitely how she felt, as she claimed with a much higher pitch to her voice.)
And, similar to Kirijo and Takeba, Niijima had someone else she could always be found with: Takamaki, a girl who was similarly completely different from Niijima, and yet their companionship was much deeper than the “good friends” they appeared to be.
In this strange world, and under these strange circumstances, their group had been graced with two student council presidents who, for whatever reason, Yukiko felt unreasonably drawn to. She didn’t understand why, but there was something about them both. They were so remarkably different from each other, and yet, they consistently attracted Yukiko’s attention.
“Amagi!! Duck!!”
Yukiko pulled herself from her thoughts just in time to dodge a blast of electricity headed right for her head. She summoned her persona, ready for a counterattack, but the compatriots in her party were already disposing of the shadows with elegance.
She stood in stunned silence as she watched. Kirijo held her blade loose in her hand, dancing around both the Immortal Gigas’ attacks and the arrows shot from Takeba’s bow—no, Takeba was aiming in sync with Kirijo’s movements, trusting (and in turn being trusted) in full she wouldn’t hit her friend. Takeba drew the pistol-shaped implement from her hip, aimed it at her forehead, and pulled the trigger. The sound of shattered glass filled Yukiko’s ears as Io apparated from the aether, calling up a hurricane from under the shadow and tossing Kirijo into the air.
And for a moment, it looked like Kirijo would be flung off and away, but she quickly drew the evoker from her thigh and fired at her head. Penthesilea burst forth just in time for Kirijo to land on her blade. With a swing of her sword, she shot forth a barrage of ice, as well as sending Kirijo flying back towards the shadow and slicing its head from its shoulders with her rapier.
She landed on the ground with a roll as the shadow burst into ash, completely composed.
Meanwhile, Niijima was up close and personal with the other shadow, throwing punches and kicks and dancing around the attacks of the Blue Sigil, weaving between flying papers and blasts of frost as she punched and kicked the witch-shadow. Takamaki was close behind, striking the ethereal pages with her chain-whip.
"Panther!!"
Niijima called out Takamaki’s codename, and the crimson-covered girl nodded before running up to Niijima. The fighter ripped her mask away from her face, summoning the motorcycle-form persona Johanna under both her and Takamaki and flooring it. The bike raced around the shadow as Takamaki called on Carmen, sending bolts of fire off from all around. Suddenly, Johanna swerved, somehow riding directly up the wall of the corridor they were in. Simultaneously, Niijima and Takamaki jumped from the persona. Gripping Niijima’s waist, Takamaki cast her whip, wrapping it around the shadow’s throat, and yanked, pulling both her and Niijima down onto the shadow and finishing it off with a dramatic kick.
Niijima landed first and caught Takamaki in her arms, letting the girl down gently as the shadow burst into smoke.
Yukiko’s jaw dropped. She could almost feel her chin hit the floor. She watched in awe as Niijima and Takamaki exchanged a high five and Takeba pulled Kirijo into a hug.
“Was that battle insanely cool or is that just me?” The quintet heard Sakura’s voice directly in their minds, the power of her persona reaching deep into the labyrinth.
“No, that was most certainly a spectacle,” Kirijo agreed. “Should we return for now? I feel as though we’ve explored thoroughly enough for today.”
The rest of the group agreed, and then Kirijo’s eyes fell on Yukiko.
“Amagi-san? Would you like to return, or would you prefer further training?”
“U-uh, I think heading back is okay!” Her throat suddenly tensed at Kirijo’s gaze meeting her eyes. Her chest tightened and she had no explanation as to why.
They returned, regrouped, and went back into the labyrinth with a different composition. Yukiko remained in the party, now joined by Satonaka, Shirogane, Shiomi, and Kurusu (or as he was referred to within the labyrinths, “Joker”).
“Joker” decided he wanted to take on one of the F.O.Es. They were absurdly strong, even the ones from previous labyrinths significantly outclassing their abilities now, but he felt they were strong enough to take on one from Kamoshidaman. He prepped them with a simple command: if it’s too strong, don’t hesitate to fall back.
Something in Yukiko’s heart took that as a sign of doubt, as a challenge. She could tell Satonaka, and even Shiomi felt similarly.
“Aw, come on! We’re totally strong enough to beat this guy!” Shiomi was the first to put her thoughts to words. She twirled her glaive in her hands. “I mean, we took down that big bad in A.I.G.I.S pretty easily. How much harder could one of these guys from the start be?”
“Let’s not push our luck,” Shirogane chided. “If Rise-san, Fuuka-san, and Futaba-chan say these guys are tough, we gotta be careful.”
“You better! I don’t want you guys coming back dead, okay?!” Yukiko flinched at the ferocity of Kujikawa’s voice in her mind’s ear. “Especially you, Naoto-kun.”
Shirogane rolled their eyes, but the smile on their face was evident. “I’ll keep ‘em in check. Don’t worry, Rise-san.”
Something familiar hid under their voice, but Yukiko didn’t know what it was.
Joker snapped his fingers and adjusted his glove.
“Let’s go.”
When they returned, Yukiko collapsed almost immediately. She was eternally grateful that exiting the labyrinths healed them of all ailments and wounds, for otherwise she might have had to spend an extra few minutes healing herself up, and she desperately wanted to collapse into bed. She forced herself to return to the Velvet Room (the place they’d assigned to be the sleeping quarters while they were trapped in the theatre) before falling unconscious into her bedroll.
By the time she woke up, it was already night. The rest of the team seemed to be either already out, or still asleep from earlier.
Despite the cinema’s warmth, the night still felt cold and lonely. Yukiko huddled close in her sleeping bag, her arms held tight to her chest, trying desperately to will herself to sleep, but it was no good.
The dark of the theatre was too oppressive right now. That F.O.E battle was tough, and she still felt the flashes in front of her eyes—the critical damage Satonaka had suffered protecting her still made her shiver. Satonaka was sleeping just fine a few feet away, exhaustion from the fight likely still lingering in her bones. They barely got her out, the only thing keeping her from bleeding out being the strange magical protection from physical injuries that personas gave their wielders. Though, that meant that all of the damage she took was on her mind, and it terrified Yukiko.
(“Yukiko!”)
Fuck it. She wasn’t sleeping.
She pulled herself from the sleeping bag and stood. Quietly, she checked on Satonaka, finding her still sleeping soundly. The goofy smile on her lips warmed Yukiko’s worrywart heart and let her feel a little bit calmer as she stepped out of the mysterious Velvet Room and into the cinema lobby.
A few people still lingered in the lobby; Kirijo, Takeba, Narukami, Niijima, Takamaki, and the ever mysterious Kurusu. Elizabeth and Theodore were there as well, though they remained behind the counter. The steam rising from their individual mugs enticed Yukiko. She could use a drink.
Elizabeth gingerly handed her a mug of hot chocolate and she took a seat in the circle. The conversation was fairly quiet, the crew simply relaxing with a warm beverage, taking in the calm and quiet atmosphere of the enigmatic Cinema. Quiet music unfamiliar to Yukiko played over the speakers, its complex chords crackling as they were shoved through a soundbox far too inferior to capture their true sound. It was nice, though.
She took a sip from her mug. It was perfect, or at the very least, better than anything she could make.
(She wouldn’t stop trying, though.)
The song faded out and into a new one just as Kurusu looked over at her. “Good evening, Amagi-san. Sorry I didn’t notice you.”
Yukiko shook her head. “I have quiet footsteps, it’s okay. Working in an inn means I have to move quietly at night or I’ll wake up the patrons.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s become a bad habit. Unfortunately, it means I end up unintentionally sneaking up on people, and it can scare them sometimes.” She recalled the many times she’d made Chie jump from her seat because she approached so inaudibly.
“That’s not a bad habit by any stretch,” Kurusu said. He stood and extended a hand to Yukiko. “Care to dance?”
Yukiko raised an eyebrow at him.
“The song. It’s called ‘Dance!’ so I think I’m obligated. Besides, I wanna show you what quiet footsteps really sound like.”
She was hesitant, but she took his hand anyway. They moved slowly at first, finding each others’ rhythms and learning how they moved, but Kurusu quickly took the lead and picked up the pace as the chorus struck. He spun her around, spun himself around, moved with such ease and grace for someone so tall and limber, and she found it so easy to follow. The other members of the circle looked on in fascination, Narukami seemingly far more interested than the rest of them (which was fair, since he’d never seen her dance.)
“Can you hear them?” Kurusu asked.
“Hear what?”
“My footsteps.”
Her eyes widened as she realized his footfalls had been completely inaudible. The music wasn’t loud enough to drown them out, no, this was something practiced, something on purpose. “I-I can’t.”
He grinned slyly. “Don’t feel bad for your habits, Amagi-san. They can be fairly useful at times. If our footfalls were too loud, we wouldn’t have been able to hear the music.” Another spin. “Right?”
Words failed her.
“You’re a strange one, Kurusu,” Narukami teased. The rest of the circle laughed.
“You’re right about that,” Niijima chimed from her corner.
The song faded into the next, and Kurusu continued the dance. Yukiko fell into the rhythm, comfortable in the groove that Kurusu led. The movements they shared were smooth, flowing freely and never feeling unnatural. She felt like she could follow his movements easily, never having to guess or accidentally step on his shoes.
Maybe he was reading her mind though. Who knows. His crew, the “Phantom Thieves” as they called themselves, were definitely a unique sort. The fact that their outfits changed when they went into the film labyrinths, that Kurusu could detect things nobody else could—even Narukami couldn’t—and that she could have sworn she saw Takamaki using her finger as a lighter and Sakamoto charging a phone with his mouth outside of the labyrinth, it all made them to be the most bizarre group of persona users out of the three that were trapped together here.
“You’re calm.” Kurusu’s subtle tenor drew Yukiko from her thoughts. “You don’t strike me as the type to not be in a situation like this.”
Of course, she could just say Kurusu had an air of relaxation to him. But that wasn’t the whole truth, was it?
But the whole truth… it wasn’t any of his business. “You’ve got a calming aura to you,” Yukiko answered.
She looked up at him and she could have sworn, for a split second, she saw his eyes flash red behind his glasses. The opportunity to look was cut short as he spun her again, before pulling her close, his mouth right up at her ear.
He whispered, “I know you’re hiding something, Amagi-san.”
The song finished there, and he stepped away to take a seat. He grabbed his mug before dropping himself on the floor once more, crossing his legs and leaning back against the counter. “You are right though, it’s none of my business,” he added, but his lips didn’t move. The voice travelled directly from his thoughts to hers, like Rise’s voice when they were in the TV world. She wasn’t aware he could do that.
What couldn’t he do?
Who was he?
“We can all keep a secret,” he said, aloud this time.
Slightly shaken, Yukiko returned to her seat and picked back up her drink. It was still warm, almost burning her lips as she took a wary sip. Her eyes glossed over the room once more, and she noticed a change in the rest of the circle. Kurusu and Narukami showed no changes, but the people who were sitting closer together—Niijima, Takamaki, Kirijo and Takeba—were more relaxed. Niijima had her head in Takamaki’s lap, and Takeba was seemingly asleep on Kirijo’s shoulder.
Her mind instantly flashed to Satonaka; to nights they’d spent together, huddled under Satonaka’s covers in close proximity, to Satonaka falling asleep herself on Yukiko’s shoulder on the bus on field trips, to the tight hug Satonaka gave everytime Yukiko left her house after a fruitless study session that dissolved into jokes and watching movies, and to the aggressive beating of her heart each and every time she was near Satonaka.
(“Chie is my prince.”)
She’d been dancing around the topic for as long as she could, but she knew it was inevitable she’d have to confront it eventually. The way Satonaka laughed when they were alone as opposed to when they were with others. The way her heart tripped over itself in her chest when Satonaka called her name, and the way it raced when she turned to see the girl chasing after her through the rain. The way her gaze always seemed to draw to Satonaka at the call of Tomoe, taking in for just a second the peace in her face as she focused on her persona.
Satonaka—no, that wasn’t right. Chie had a sort of catchphrase she liked, one she picked up from somewhere, but Yukiko didn’t care to know its original source.
(“Don’t think. Feel.”)
Yukiko wished it was that easy.
But her mother had always spoken highly of common sense in her household from the first day she could walk. “Think before you act,” she’d say. And it became ingrained in Yukiko, to the point of her frequently overthinking meager things as purchasing a beverage on the walk home.
But… you can’t really overthink this, can you? Her best friend, the relation- friend ship she had with her, the feelings in her heart that were becoming too potent to ignore, the… desires she’d had lately. On one hand, she wanted, yearned, to give in to Chie’s mantra—to not think, but to feel these things. But on the other, the consequences of it were fatal. She was the only daughter of the Amagi family, and the heir to the Amagi Inn. Sure, she wasn’t Kujikawa or Shirogane, but she had a lot riding on her reputation. To… to feel that way for Chie? She would be destroy—
“Kirijo-san, may I ask you a question?”
Kurusu’s voice yanked her from her thoughts. She blinked herself back to reality and found herself staring across the circle and meeting Kurusu’s eyes. And once again, she felt as though she saw them flash red for a moment behind his glasses. It didn’t help any suspicions Yukiko may have been harboring at the moment that he wore a particularly ominous smile. Nothing malicious, it was… knowing .
“Go right ahead,” Kirijo said calmly.
Kurusu’s eyes left Amagi’s and fell onto the wine-red-haired woman. “Forgive me if this is rude, but when did you and Takeba-san begin dating?”
With a jolt, Takeba’s eyes shot open. There was a panic in her eyes, a sense of danger lurking around the corner. The panic was not present in Kirijo’s eyes, instead they were wide with a sense of shock. Even Narukami looked surprised.
Yukiko’s eyes widened the same.
“H-how did you know we were—” Kirijo started, but she cut herself off.
Niijima and Takamaki, contrary to the rest of the group, looked almost pleased. Takamaki visibly suppressed a laugh, and Niijima smiled in amusement. Clearly, this level of shenaniganry was not abnormal for them.
Kurusu simply shrugged in response. “Just a hunch. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He crossed his heart as he spoke. “That, and I happen to know some girls who are… well, let’s just say their situation is pretty similar.”
“Hey!” Takamaki shouted. Niijima went from smiling to giggling amusedly. “Don’t call me out like this!”
“It’s not a callout if it’s literally exactly the same,” Kurusu retorted with a laugh. “You and Takeba are both the Lovers arcana, you’re both dating the class president, you’re both a year younger, and your girlfriends are both secretly badasses when it comes to fighting shadows. I mean, the only difference is that Takeba isn’t a model yet.”
“Yet?!” Takeba blurted. “What do you mean, yet?!” But the only response she received was Kurusu’s vague shrug and Kirijo’s laughter.
“You’ll see,” Kurusu said ominously.
“Yeah, well— uh. You— you shouldn’t just out me to a bunch of strangers!” Takamaki interjected. Niijima was practically in hysterics in her lap as she puffed out her cheeks and pouted.
“Ann, it’s fine,” Niijima managed to say through her laughter. “I’m pretty sure no one here is straight anyways. I mean, have you heard how Kujikawa-san and Shirogane-san talk to each other?”
Something about that comment seemed to resonate in Yukiko’s chest.
Niijima sat up and wrapped her arm around Takamaki, pulling the girl close. “And if anyone here is mean to you, they’ll have me to deal with,” she said peacefully. Takamaki seemed to calm down, and even leaned into Niijima.
And then Niijima leaned closer and kissed Takamaki on the temple, and that set Yukiko’s heart on fire.
She’d never seen two girls kiss before. Well, that was something of a lie. She’d of course seen girls and women kiss each other on the cheek in friendly greeting, but it had never been with the emotion Niijima had. It was such a simple act, a short and chaste kiss to the temple, but it was deeper than what Yukiko knew.
The feelings exchanged between Niijima and Takamaki were different. If one of them were a boy, the feeling wouldn’t be there. It would be something else, something less, something Yukiko would write off and ignore. But witnessing such a simple act of affection between two people—two girls —who trusted each other to an absolute, it held an emotion that was powerful, calming, resonant, and nameless.
And Yukiko yearned to feel that emotion.
She wanted to know its name, to know its feeling, to know what it meant. She wanted to feel it herself, to find everything that made her feel the same, to—
But, she cut herself off, that would most likely mean kissing someone.
Kissing a girl.
But she couldn’t.
But it looked so right.
But she was the heiress to the Amagi Inn.
But it made so much sense.
But she had to marry a man.
But she just couldn’t imagine that feeling with a man.
But she was a girl!
… so?
“You might not want to tell Yosuke, actually.” Narukami’s voice pulled Yukiko from her reverie. “He’s, uh… well, we’re working on him.”
(Yukiko could certainly vouch for that.)
“Weirdly homophobic for no reason despite the fact that he’s probably a bit gay himself?” Kurusu asked.
“That’s… exactly right, actually.”
“Ryuji was the same when we first met,” Kurusu explained. “A friend of ours isn’t into girls, and he was a complete asshole to him. I had to smack him upside the head a few times to get him to learn his lesson.”
“Can vouch,” Takamaki said. “He was a dick when we first started dating. He’s lucky we were in the metaverse when he decided to speak his mind, because he might not have survived otherwise.”
“Thankfully, our party does not have anyone like that,” Kirijo finally spoke up. “And, to answer your question Kurusu—”
“Three months! We’ve been together three months!” Takeba blurted out suddenly, face bright red and ears tinted pink.
Kirijo chuckled. “Yes, that’s correct. We’ve been romantically involved for three months.”
“And how has that been affected by your status as a member of the Kirijo family?”
Kirijo went silent for a moment at Kurusu’s question. Takeba gave her a concerned glance. “You don’t have to answer, Mitsuru.”
“I want to,” Kirijo said resolutely. “It’s… it’s been difficult, I must admit. My father discovered our relationship shortly after it began during a S.E.E.S retreat to Yakushima, and he was disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, he supported us, but he was afraid of what the board of directors would think.”
“Shit, dude,” Takamaki whispered.
“But I couldn’t care less about them. I decided long ago to put my feelings and desires before the desires of the corporation, and I intend to stay on that path. And if that means the board despises me for loving a woman, and… if I have to lose my position as the company executive for that, then so be it. I intend to live for myself and myself alone.”
The room fell quiet for a moment. Everyone stopped to take in what Kirijo had said—aside from Takeba, who seemed to be hugging Kirijo even tighter and sobbing. It definitely shocked Yukiko to her core, hearing someone talk about something so serious, yet with such certainty about the potential costs. She was fully dead set on being who she was, even if it killed her.
Yukiko wished she had that kind of confidence.
“Besides, why should a group of old men whose wives never loved them, let alone experienced an orgasm, get to determine how I live my life?” Kirijo added, causing a few people around the room to burst out laughing, and even causing Narukami to choke on his drink. “Apologies for my vulgarness, it would seem Shiomi-san has rubbed off on me.”
That definitely sounds like something she would say, Yukiko thought.
“Cheers to that, sister,” Takamaki added, raising her mug. “Fuckin’ cheers to that. God, the amount of creepy old men I’ve had try to hit on me and Makoto only to turn around and call me a ‘dyke’ or something when I tell them I’m a lesbian makes me want to just…” She punched the palm of her hand to accentuate her point. “You know?”
Takeba nodded incessantly. “I’ve had my fair share of creeps as well. It’s so fucking gross. I wish so hard that they were shadows or something so I could just,” she put her fingers in the shape of a gun to her temple and faux-fired, “and just let Io rip them apart.”
“I think I can relate to Kirijo-san a bit,” Niijima offered. “Not the whole board of directors thing, but my sister can be pretty crazy about following the rules and being the perfect girl and the perfect student. But I’m tired of being perfect, I want to just be me. And… loving Ann showed me how to do that. I’m sure if the school or if sis found out, I’d get in a lot of trouble, but… I just don’t have it in me to care about that. Why should who I love affect them? If I had to choose between Ann and… being the Student Council President, I guess, then I’d choose Ann in a heartbeat.”
At this point, Takamaki was visibly crying.
“Hell, I can even hear it in Kobayakawa’s voice. ‘Niijima-san, you have to break off your relationship with Takamaki-san. It’s sending a bad message to other students. What will the parents think if they learn our Student Council is run by a lesbian?’” She took another sip of her drink. “I feel weird about saying this, but I don’t miss him one bit. That man’s cowardice led to so many people getting hurt, and I’m glad he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”
Yukiko was silent. All the stories these people—her friends, at this point—were sharing were swirling around in her head, tells of confidence in the face of consequence, of struggles and the determination to continue to simply be despite it. Takeba and Takamaki’s attitudes towards the perverted men they’d faced felt familiar, like lines Kujikawa or Chie might say.
(“If that creep comes near you again, I’ll kick his ass! You got that?”)
In fact, there had been a time Chie did say such a thing. Years ago, when Yukiko was asked out three times in a week by a boy three years her senior. She told him off each time, told him she wasn’t interested, but he wouldn’t let up until Chie came in telling him to, “back off, punk! She said no!”
Yukiko always did admire her courage. But, she supposed, did that make her a coward?
Do not falter to the judgement of others, young one.
You made a vow — to always live as yourself.
I am thou, thou art I. Do not falter.
Be, mercilessly.
No. If Chie was going to be like Takamaki and Takeba, ready to face off with creeps and weirdos, then Yukiko would be like Niijima and Kirijo. She’d be herself unapologetically, and stand up against the adversity from her superiors. If her mother hated her, disowned her from the inn, then that was something she’d face.
Besides. She wasn’t alone, was she?
Narukami sat up slightly. “How did you guys know? That you liked girls, I mean. I’ve known for as long as I can remember that I like both guys and girls, but I’m sure it’s not the same for everyone.”
Kirijo’s eyes shut as she recalled. “I’ve known forever as well, I suppose. It wasn’t until Yukari and I started dating that I had to face the potential consequences though, I suppose.”
“I kissed my friend in second year of junior high,” Yukari let on. “She wanted to practice kissing for her boyfriend at the time, and… well, she didn’t have to worry about her boyfriend for much longer, because she became my girlfriend after that.”
“Ann kissed me on the cheek after a crepe date and my heart was pounding so hard, I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. Afterwards, Futaba sent me an article on lesbianism—unprompted, by the way, she’d apparently been eavesdropping on me—and that’s how I figured it out,” Makoto said.
“Shiho,” Ann answered simply. “Although, I do wish I had Futaba to send me an article on being gay, because I could have used that a looooong time ago.”
Yukiko fiddled with her hands in her lap. She breathed slowly, in and out. Counted to five, counted to ten, and then she opened her mouth.
“It was in April,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, a little loud as she blurted it out, but she didn’t care. “I’d been taken into the TV World, and my shadow called Ch— she called someone ‘My Prince’. And I didn’t realize until then that it was how I thought of her. But I didn’t really… admit it to myself until recently, how I felt about her.”
“Does she know?” Kurusu inquired.
Yukiko shook her head. “Not yet, but I want to tell her. Soon. Even if she says no, I want to be honest.”
Under his breath, Yukiko could hear Narukami chuckling. The two made eye contact as he said, “Well, I’m sure whoever this girl is is looking forward to your confession. In fact, I bet she feels the same way.” He gave a wink.
Yukiko’s heart fluttered slightly in her chest. Did he know?
“If I may, Kurusu,” Kirijo interrupted, “why did you pose that question? Regarding my relationship, and my superiors?”
“I felt there was someone who needed to hear your answer. That was all,” he said. His eyes fell to Yukiko ever so briefly, and in the same brief instant, she saw them flash red once again.
Kirijo closed her eyes and smiled. “I see. Very well. It’s nice to be able to share those feelings with a group like this. I’ve only been able to discuss this sort of thing with Yukari until now, and as much as I love her, it’s draining to keep it inside for so long.”
“If it’s any consolation, you won’t have to keep it inside forever,” Kurusu averred. “The world is a much nicer place than it was in 2009. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting better, especially for people like us. And I don’t want to spoil too much, but your eventual wedding is a landmark milestone in Japanese history.”
A single tear rolls down Kirijo’s cheek, and she wipes it away with a finger. “Thank you, Kusuru-san. I appreciate it dearly.”
Yukiko didn’t sleep a wink that night. Her heart rolled in her chest as she pondered all the things. The surge of confidence to come out to that small group had faded away, and what was left in its wake was an anxiety she couldn’t shake.
Could she really tell Chie how she felt? Would she really feel the same? What about her parents? What about the Investigation Team?
Words swirled around her skull until a loud alarm rang through the room, and the rest of its habitants rose from slumber.
“C’mon, Yukiko. Let’s get breakfast.”
She looked up to see Chie’s hand extended down towards her. The smile on Chie’s face was kind, considerate, and warmed her heart.
She decided she wouldn’t face those fears alone as she took Chie’s hand.