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Futaba is there , again.
The wood is cold and hard beneath her face. It's all she can see from where she's laying in a heap, her rats nest of hair blocking out the rest of the run down kitchen.
Her stomach aches and makes a loud noise that echoes in the small room. She'd look for something to calm it, but she watched as the fridge and each and every cabinets was locked one by one. Even if one of them was unlocked now, she doesn't have the energy to check regardless.
She lays there for what feels like forever. And then, suddenly there's a loud bang as the kitchen door slams open. There is a large figure looming over her. Shouting all of the things that she knows to be true despite the small part of herself that won't give up on hoping that he's wrong.
He usually gives up after he's said his piece, but tonight is different. Tonight his shouting is louder than ever before. Tonight he just won't stop. Won't stop shouting about how all of this is her fault. How he wishes she'd never come to his house. How he wishes that she'd leave just like how she forced her mother to—
Futaba sits up with gasping breaths and an overclocked heart pounding loudly in her ears.
She's… Where?
She looks around wildly trying to figure out where she is. Thankfully the large and lavish living room is nothing like any room in her uncles home. That said, it is also decidedly not a room in Sojiro's home or café, and that is just as frightening.
She tries to make sense of the room. There are multiple couches and… Why are there several lumps scattered around the room?
They're blurry and unfamiliar at first. But, after a moment of forcing herself to focus, she spots a familiar mass of bright blonde hair poking out from one of the lumps closest to her. A moment later and loud snoring coming from that lump registers in her mind. It's so familiar and so unmistakably Ryuji that it allows the fun memories from earlier in the night surface, helping her identify her location as Haru's living room, calming her immensely.
She fumbles around a moment and then puts on her glasses.
Her mind is still a bit foggy, but, with her vision returned to her, she is able to pick out the rest of the former Phantom Thieves scattered around on various futons and couches around the room.
Ryuji is splayed out like a starfish, taking up far too much room than is necessary on a cockeyed futon only a few steps away from Futaba. Akira is there, too. He's hard to make out, underneath far too many blankets to be comfortable on top of a walking furnace, but what she can see of his face is peaceful.
She feels a bit of peace settle in her heart at the sight.
She looks beyond the boys to find Makoto and Haru sleeping beside each other on separate futons. She's pretty sure they started on the far edges of their futons, but they've inched closer to each other over the past few hours of sleep. She cannot see Haru very well, but Makoto's hand has abandoned her poorly hidden Buchimaru plush to reach towards the other girl. She'd almost bet money that Haru is reaching towards her as well in her own way.
There are a couple chairs behind Makoto, full of various belongings and snacks, but no people. The items help reinforce that they'd had fun earlier in the night, but she won't be able to relax until everyone is accounted for. It's an unfortunate lingering habit from her days as a navigator. Makoto may be team mom, but Futaba would be team navigator until the end of her days.
Her gaze moves from the chairs to an adjacent couch and finds another blonde and black-haired duo. Ann's normal pigtails are missing, leaving the hair to fan out all over the place. Futaba dimly notes that it's grown so long that the section that drapes over the edge of a sofa touches the floor.
A little further down is Shiho. While not an official member of the group, her status as Ann's girlfriend meant that she came along for many of their gatherings. She's laying entirely on top of Ann, her head pillowed on top of her chest. and an arm dangling over the edge. Their position looks precarious, but Ann's arms hold her steady, and Futaba's pretty sure that even the strongest of shadows wouldn't be able to rip Shiho from her grasp, let alone gravity.
Morgana is harder to spot, nearly blending in with the dark sofa that he's sleeping on the back of. But he's there too, keeping close to Ann, but staying a respectable distance away on the far end. She can't imagine how he's able to sleep in what is arguably the most precarious position of them all, but he's does so effortlessly, so she does her best not to worry about him falling.
And Yusuke—
She turns around to find him still, thankfully, asleep on the couch above her. She recalls that he'd been the first to fall asleep. She's pretty sure that he's been staying up to work on projects much later than he'd been willing to admit to the group as a whole. So, when he'd fallen asleep one round into some party game Akira'd learned recently, she'd thrown a blanket over him and Makoto advised that they take the game to another room.
She isn't sure how he's able to do it, but it looks as though he hasn't moved a single muscle since he'd fallen asleep. If it weren't for the obvious rise and fall of his chest she might even think him dead with how still he's been. Still, it's a relief that she hadn't disturbed him when she curled up on the floor right next to him, nor when she'd suddenly awoken moments ago.
Futaba stands. She's unstable on her feet, a valiant attempt on her body's part to get her to go back to sleep. But, despite the relief that comes after everyone is accounted for, the nightmare still lingers in the shadows of the room. And at this rate, if she was to go back to sleep now, she'd simply return to that place. So, despite her body's protests, she gingerly steps around her friends and sets off into the house with no specific destination in mind.
###
Eventually, her feet bring her to Haru's lavish kitchen.
Futaba can see just how open and vast the room is by the soft light emanating from underneath the cabinets. Everything in the room is modern and sleek. All of the appliances are stainless steel and, while she doesn't necessarily know the intricacies of interior design, she's pretty sure that all of the counters are made of marble from just how fancy they look.
It almost feels like the space is more for display than anything else. With an exception of a few personal touches that are just so Haru. There are plants that don't match the vibe at all. A painting that Futaba is almost certain is something of Yusuke's. And, on the counter next to the refrigerator, are their earlier snacks sitting beside enough breakfast items to feed an army.
Futaba has no interest in food, though. Not only does her stomach feel too queasy: she doesn't want to intrude. Still, despite her lingering nerves, she knows that Haru probably won't mind if she gets a glass of water. It's a bit difficult for her to reach them, but she does her best to open and close them as quietly as she can. Most are full of dishes that she can't even begin to name, but she does eventually find one filled with glasses.
She picks a small one, fills it with tap water, and then proceeds to stare at it.
She knows that she should at least attempt to take a drink, but any amount of water feels near-impossible in this moment. Despite all of the differences, she can't get the feeling of being back there out of her mind and body.
She tries to focus on the glass in her hands and the sounds of her friends down the hall. She forces herself to tap a foot on the floor and feel the expensive tiles instead of the rough wood. She takes a breath, then another, and then brings the glass up to her lips—
She only manages a sip before bile crawls up her throat.
Fuck.
Futaba does her best to clean the sink behind herself (thank god she hadn't moved far), but there's only so much she can do with a spray nozzle, paper towels and dish soap. It's likely an impossible task when she cannot find where the cleaning supplies are kept, no matter how hard she looks. However she refuses to move away from the sink until she's cleaned it twice.
There's a reasonable part of her that knows that Haru won't be upset no matter how she leaves the sink, but she still feels terrible for it regardless.
Her strength gone, Futaba slides down to the floor, glass forgotten on the counter above. The chill in the tiles seeps through her thin pajama pants, sending shivers up her spine.
She isn't sure how she's going to make it back to the living room in such a sapped state. She knows that if she wants to avoid unnecessary questions she'll need to at least be near where she fell asleep, but she can't even imagine standing, let alone walking the long hallway back to the living room.
Futaba isn't sure how long she sits there, but eventually she feels memories start to creep back.
It's winter and the kitchen is freezing. Her uncle refuses to bring a heater into her 'room'. She's never been so cold in her life. She wants to go and get more blankets, but her uncle is standing there in the door way, blocking it. He's saying something that she can't quite hear, but he's reaching for —
"Futaba?"
The voice isn't her uncle, but she can't look up. Looking up got her in trouble. And, beyond that, it's impossible with how painfully hunched in on herself she is at this moment.
Her breathing is coming in gasps, and far too loud in her own ears, but as long as she stays in this position she's safe. Even if she drowns in her own tears and breath, it'd be better than putting herself at risk like that.
She's dimly aware of the room flooding with light, some of it even infiltrating her sanctuary. It's a different hue than she's used to, but she doesn't look around to find out why it's different. Nor does she look up when she hears someone approach her and kneel beside her. Within reach, but far enough to not touch her.
"Futaba are you alright?" The voice asks again.
It takes her a moment to recognize who is speaking: Yusuke.
It takes a significant amount of her energy to shake her head once she's processed his words.
She hears him take in a shaky breath of his own.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
She shakes her head again. She knows that this is probably a worrying sight to come across, but her mouth refuses to do anything other than supply her with too much air and an embarrassing amount of sobbing.
"Alright."
Futaba expects him to either continue speaking or to leave her be. He does neither, and silently sits beside her and drapes an arm over her shoulders. She starts at the sudden contact. It's unexpected, but it's reminiscent enough of what Sojiro tends to do when he finds her after a nightmare that she finds herself leaning into it instead of shying away.
Yusuke doesn't push her to open up. Instead, he remains still and silent. Only the rhythmic brush of his fingers on her bare arm to prove that he hasn't turned to stone.
She focuses on it. He varies the pattern some, but she tries to match it when it turns to a figure eight of sorts. It's not constant enough to completely slow it down, but it helps.
After some time her sobs ebb into hiccups which then calm to the occasional hitch in her breath. She stays in her ball during much of that time, but, as she calms, she opens up enough to rest her head on Yusuke's shoulder. He shifts a bit to accommodate her weight, but otherwise remains the same.
Once she's fully back, Futaba reaches for Yusuke's other hand and holds tight as she speaks.
"I dreamed that I was back at my uncle's house. I've only really told Akira about it, but things were… bad there."
He squeezes her hand and starts gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.
"Do you dream of it often?"
"I used to. Especially before you guys saved me last summer." She takes in a shaky breath. She likely won't be done crying until she goes back to sleep, still she fights the tears as best she can. "It's been mostly fine lately, but I think sleeping on the floor…"
"Did it remind you of your time at your uncle's?"
"Yes… He. He used to make me sleep on his kitchen floor," she says in a small voice. "He said that, because I m-murdered mom that I didn't deserve anything nice in life. So he never gave me a bed, or let me use the bath… And some-sometimes he wouldn't let me eat."
He pulls her tighter as her tears start flowing again. She turns her face into his shoulder and though she hates the idea of staining his shirt, she hates the idea of letting go even more. So, though she feels selfish, she allows herself a bit of this comfort.
Eventually Yusuke breaks the silence.
"What I wouldn't give to have the ability to change hearts once again."
Futaba laughs a bit.
"It wouldn't do much good now, though. Akira did that."
He pulls back a bit, displeasure clear on his face.
"Alone?"
"Technically Morgana and I were there, but yeah. I… I wasn't ready to tell anyone else about it back then." She can see he wants to object to something, but she continues on before he can interrupt. "Besides, we had to move fast because he was blackmailing Sojiro into paying him money and he was threatening Akira with a fake lawsuit because he protected me from him.
"He didn't hit my uncle though!" She corrects immediately. "He just started charging at all three of us and he fell on his ass when Akira stood in front of us. Didn't even make contact!"
"That…"
Yusuke, at a loss for words, pulls her head back to his shoulder and lays his head atop hers. She feels her cheeks heat up. For some reason this feels far too intimate. She's half tempted to pull away in embarrassment, but the comfort it brings keeps her in place.
"I take it that our great and fearsome leader took care of the situation?"
"Yeah. My uncle's shadow was pretty wimpy. As far as I know he hasn't blackmailed Sojiro again, and I definitely haven't seen him since. The most that came of it were a couple of social workers that came by to check in, but they could tell it was a fake report right away."
"That's good to hear. Though I must admit that I'm a bit disappointed to find out that the two of you thought that we wouldn't drop everything to help. And, even worse, that you were suffering through something like that without telling the rest of us."
She sighs. She knew that it'd be tricky to come out and tell everyone that she and Akira had gone behind everyone's backs. She'd been so focused on the goal at the time that she didn't think of how the others would respond. And, despite thinking about it since, somehow this kind of disappointment hadn't come up as something to prepare for.
So, in the end, she throws away all of the lines she'd prepared before and settles on the raw truth instead.
"I wasn't comfortable telling everyone what had happened at my uncle's house. You all knew so much about me already. Stuff I didn't get to tell you myself. I just kind of wanted to choose who got to know what and when.
"And, at the time, talking about it to Akira and Morgana felt overwhelming enough. Imagining telling everyone else on top of everything else going on at the time was just… Too much for me. I knew everyone would be more than willing to help, but that kind of stuff…"
She stares down at their joined hands and watches as he squeezes it encouragingly. He's far too patient with her to interrupt.
"It's… embarrassing, alright?" She takes in a deep breath to steady herself. "Like I'm sure everyone would understand to some extent, but living like that was… degrading. And because of all the stuff with mom's note I thought I deserved all of that back then. And, yeah, everyone kind of knew that things were bad between living with Sojiro and my mom… my mom's death. But…"
She doesn't finish her sentence. There's a lot more that she wants to say, but she's already said so much already. She's not sure how she could possibly say even more without completely falling apart.
"May I speak?" Yusuke asks, tentatively, when it becomes apparent that she isn't going to elaborate further.
Futaba nods.
He pulls back to face her head on. She misses his embrace for a moment, but is immediately overwhelmed when he places a hand on either side of her face and meets her gaze with an intensity that steals her breath away and keeps her usually shy gaze locked on his own.
"Thank you for bearing so much of your past to me. I know how difficult it is to be so vulnerable with someone and I want you to know that I do not take that for granted.
"I would like to remind you of a fact: while we may not understand what happened perfectly, none of us would judge you for the environment you were forced to endure. I understand that you cannot help how you feel about the matter, but I would be remiss to not remind you of that.
"That said: I apologize if I've forced you in any way to divulge such secrets. While I feel honored, I do not want you to feel as though you have to in order to maintain our friendship."
"But, I wanted to," she whispers into the small space between them. Her fingers twitch restlessly. And, though she feels mortification bloom over the rapidly building butterflies in her stomach, she allows one of them to drift up and cover one of his.
"I'm glad." His free hand drifts from her cheek to smooth out a bit of her hair on the crown of her head. "Please know that I am always willing to listen, should you wish to speak."
Yusuke then leans forward. She half expects him to kiss her on the lips (a move that, while desirable, would be mortifying considering that she can still taste bile on her tongue). Instead, he places a lingering kiss on her forehead and gently pulls her in for another hug.
And, somehow, it's far more intimate than a kiss on the lips could have been.
They don't stay like that for long, unfortunately. After a minute or so Yusuke pulls back fully and stands. Futaba nearly whines at the lack of contact, but a moment later he is grasping both of her hands and carefully helping her stand.
"We should probably attempt to go back to sleep."
She feels a dark cloud loom in the distance at the thought of sleeping on the floor again.
"W-what, don't want to see if you can stay up all night with me?"
Yusuke arches an eyebrow at her. "Do you honestly believe that I've never stayed up all night painting before?"
"I guess you have a point." She rolls her eyes at him. "Still, I don't know if I could sleep even if I tried. Pretty sure I'll just have another nightmare if I try to sleep on the floor again."
"Then you shall have the couch and I will have the floor."
Futaba scrunches up her nose at the idea. She might like to give him shit, but for some reason the idea of banishing him to the floor after everything tonight sounds just as bad.
"Nah, I'll just grab my laptop and catch up on the latest Featherman R episodes in here until everyone wakes up. With how long everyone sleeps I might even have a chance of catching up!"
"Futaba." He levels her with one of the flattest looks she's ever seen on his face. "You're swaying on your feet. You at least should lie down and rest."
It takes her a moment for his words to register. She takes stock of her body and finds that she, in fact, is rather unsteady on her feet. Some could probably be blamed on sitting on the ground so long. However, if she's being honest with herself, she knows that the previous night's near all-nighter likely isn't helping her case.
"But, I don't want to kick you off of the couch!"
"Then we'll share."
Her face floods red as the butterflies in her stomach swarm.
"Come on," he says, slipping an arm around her shoulders to start guiding her towards the living room. "is there anything else you need?"
"N-no."
He turns off the light as they leave the kitchen. More blind than usual in the sudden darkness, Futaba clings a bit to him as he leads her carefully towards their sleeping friends. A trek that feels like both the longest and shortest she's ever walked in her life.
Futaba half expects Akira to be awake when they enter the room. She swears he has some sort of sixth sense for these kinds of things. Thankfully, he is still asleep on top of Ryuji sound asleep.
In fact, the only ones who have moved besides her and Yusuke are Makoto and Haru. Somewhere in the last hour the two have finally bridged the gap between them. Makoto with her face buried in the other girl's side and Haru with her arm loosely draped over her.
"Here," Yusuke whispers as he sits Futaba down on the couch. He leans down and retrieves the blanket and pillow she'd been using and throws them on her lap. "You take that end and I'll take this end."
She watches him point at either end of the couch. Haru may be rich, but this is a normal-sized couch, not an extensive sectional built twice as long. She'd seen him lay on it earlier and easily take up the whole thing. She likes Yusuke well enough, but she can't say that she'd like to wake up to feet in her face in the morning.
"You're way to tall too sleep that way. Look, I can—"
"How would you suggest we compromise on this then?"
Her eyes unconsciously drift over to where Ann and Shiho are sleeping on the other couch. She feels him look as well and it doesn't take much for him to come to the same realization.
"I wouldn't want to make—"
"There isn't that much—"
The both stop.
Yusuke continues.
"I can't say that the idea didn't occur to me. I just didn't want to suggest it and make you uncomfortable."
"I'm more worried about accidentally losing you in the couch 'cause I accidentally smothered you or something."
His laugh is breathy as he attempts to not wake the others with his mirth. "I doubt that you will have much to worry there."
"I don't know…"
"Look," He says "If you're not uncomfortable with the idea then I am more than willing to share the couch like that. If not, I will take the floor. "
Futaba isn't sure, if she's being completely honest. She can't deny that the idea is sending a thrill through her. However, the thought of just how much teasing they'll both receive in the morning nearly has her putting her foot down and staying up all night. Again.
But she doesn't.
Instead, she shyly gets up and gestures for him to lay down first. He does so without another word. And, once he's settled, he lifts his arm up, inviting her to take up what space is left on the couch.
It takes a bit of finagling to figure out the best way to lay on the couch. Eventually she settles on resting her head on his arm like a pillow and burying her face in his chest. It's quite cramped, but she feels most of the tension in her body slip away when he settles his arm on her waist and pulls her, somehow, even closer.
"Is this alright?"
"Yes."
She starts to slip into sleep, but, before she fully gives herself to it she whispers a soft 'thanks' into his chest.
"Anytime, Futaba." There's a light kiss to the top of her head. "Anytime."