Work Text:
"You're seriously going for the Amagi challenge? A bit ambitious, don’t you think?"
"It’ll be fine, I’ll tell her it’s a group thing. And if it turns out everyone cancels…"
“You’re in way over your head.”
“I’m telling you, all she needs is some one-on-one time with yours truly!”
"Yeah, but like... what about that girl she hangs out with?"
"What about her?"
"Isn't she like, some kind of kung-fu nut? I heard she does nothing but train by the riverbank."
"Who cares? It's not like I'm asking her out."
"Yeah, but if by some miracle this doesn’t blow up in your face, you’re gonna have to actually hang out with her. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up as her new punching bag."
"What, are you saying I have to slay the dragon to get the fair princess?"
Laughter carries through the wooden door. Chie clutches her bag tight enough that her fingernails scrape against her palm; the seams of the handle engrave into her skin. A thousand scenarios run through her head. She throws open the door, marches right up to the people inside, and kicks them out the window. She opens the door deliberately, informs the inhabitants in a falsely cheerful voice that she forgot her books, and leaves them awkward and ashamed, unsure of how long she's been there, what she's heard. She explains that Yukiko doesn’t have time for a thick-headed asshole, especially not an arrogant one, and that has nothing to do with who her friends are. She tells them she doesn't make a habit of beating people up, not unless they're asking for it (and boy, are they asking for it). She transforms herself, acts more demure, more elegant, more like Yukiko, the kind of girl that carries parasols and frequents cafes, leaving them dazzled in her wake.
She takes a trembling breath, and walks away.
"You left it at school?"
Chie laughs, balancing the phone on the crook of her shoulder as she unhooks the leash from their dog's collar. "Yeah. I figured if I had to travel an unreasonable amount to do homework, might as well see if I could just do it with you instead. Unless you're busy?"
There's a thoughtful hum, rough and tinny through the handset. "We're pretty booked, but I think I'll have some free time in a few hours. By the time we're done, it might be too late to take the bus..."
Swallowing her disappointment, she forces a smile on her face. "Ah, right."
"So you should sleep over!"
Chie fumbles with her phone, nearly dropping it. There’s a lot she wants to say, about how much she needs this, how much she doesn’t, everything a contradicting jumble caught somewhere in her throat. "It's a school night," is what she settles for.
"It'll be fine as long as you bring your uniform, right? It's been so long since you've been at the inn!"
"I mean, I guess, but-"
"There’s not a lot of work tomorrow, so I’ll definitely be going to class.”
“Okay-“
“Plus, the hot springs! Everyone's jet-lagged, so they're all pretty much asleep. We'd get the whole thing to ourselves!”
“Alright already, jeez!” With a grin, she settles down onto the couch, letting Muku try to prove to the world he’s still a lap dog. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Amagi.”
She gets a giggle in response, and tries to ignore the voice in her head that whispers you're the one who can’t do anything alone.
"So there's a new movie in Okina."
Idiot, she thinks.
"A bunch of us are planning on checking it out!"
Liar, she thinks.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Chie covers her mouth, stifling a fit of laughter. Just like Yukiko to give the most unintentionally devastating response possible.
“Well, I’m. Inviting you?” He clears his throat (Yukiko hates when people do that), and scrambles to regain composure. “So, how ‘bout it?”
There's a stretch of silence. For a second Chie tenses, ready to burst in with some excuse, or even without one, anything to interrupt whatever forced atmosphere he’s attempting.
“Let me ask Chie if she’s free. Oh, and Kanji! I think he’s been meaning to watch that one. Yosuke would probably complain if he wasn’t invited, so-“
“Wait, hold on, why-“ He trips over his own words, no doubt in a panic about all this unexpected name-dropping. “We were hoping for, uh. Just you.”
“Really? In that case, no thanks.” The sound of footsteps steadily increases in volume, and Chie steps back from the door right when Yukiko opens it. “Thanks for waiting,” she says. “Ready to go?”
She nods, and some cruel part of her compels her to ask “What did he want?”
“Nothing important.”
She feels disgusted at the satisfaction she gets when she catches a glimpse of his expression.
“And when I said ‘it’s fine, I’ll wait,’ I swear, he looked like he swallowed a lemon!” Chie demonstrates her best impression, much to Souji’s amusement. “He was probably thinking something like, can’t this girl read the mood? It probably didn’t even occur to him that, yeah, that’s why I’m sticking around. How dense can you get?”
Souji shakes his head, unpacking a couple water bottles before flopping down onto the patch of shade beside her. “Kato-kun could use a bit more self-awareness,” is his scathing critique of their classmate, because of course he knows exactly who she’s talking about. “I don’t know what he was expecting.”
“Obviously to sweep her off her feet with his eloquence and virtue. The exquisite heiress and the earnest underdog, a classic tale of romance!” She plucks a nearby wildflower, holding it up dramatically. “Oh Yukiko! You’re like. Pretty and stuff. Will you let me shove my tongue down your throat? So I can make everyone in Inaba jealous?” She throws the flower with a snort of contempt, watching it flutter towards the river. “As if I’d leave her with someone like that.”
“It’s good that Yukiko has someone looking out for her.”
“Well, it’s not like I actually did anything,” Chie mutters, tugging at stray tufts of grass. “She can take care of herself.”
“Still, there’s a difference between standing up for yourself knowing someone has your back, and standing up for yourself because you’re the only one that will.” There’s a pensiveness to him, stuck in a memory of life before Inaba. She bites her tongue, wondering if she should ask, but before she can he shakes himself out of his reverie and gives her a smile. “She’s lucky to know someone like you. We all are.”
Her face burns with embarrassment. Or maybe shame. “Aw, stop it. You’re just buttering me up so I’ll go easy on you. Well, it won’t work! Come on, let’s spar!”
An envelope falls out of her shoebox. It’s a coupon to Souzai Daigaku. Two of them, in fact, along with an invitation to meet up after school, and maybe to bring a friend, if she so chooses. Signed by a name she doesn’t know.
Seriously?
“’Sup,” Kanji says. It’s almost comical how much he towers over the other boy, whoever he is. 
if his signature’s to be believed. “You’re from the next class over, yeah? Nice to meet you, I guess.”
“Tatsumi-san,” is the shaky response he gets from Saokacuoco.
“So,” starts Sakamoto in a false bid for nonchalance when Chie leaves to pick up their drinks. He probably thinks she can’t hear him. “What’s Amagi-senpai up to? I’m surprised she didn’t join us.”
Kanji scoffs. “You kiddin’ me? She’s watching her weight like a hawk. No way she’d go for steak.”
“I see.” The approval in his voice is absolutely nauseating. “So, Tatsumi-“
“Tatsumi’s my old lady, Kanji’s fine.”
“Uh, right. So, Kanji-san, do you… like Amagi-senpai?”
“Well, yeah. She’s awesome. Scary as hell, though.” Spoken like someone well acquainted with Yukiko. Chie tries to think of what specific instance Kanji might be remembering but there are so many possibilities, ranging from shadow-busting to cooking misadventures.
“But you’re not, like…” Sakamoto trails off, catching Kanji’s blank expression, and gives up. “What about Seta-senpai? Is he, uh, close to her?”
“’Course he is.”
“No, but, is he-”
“They’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking” He lets out a small ‘ghk!’ as Chie drops a can of soda in front of him, tossing another to Kanji. She fails to suppress the pleasure she gets at watching him squirm, but to be fair, she doesn’t try too hard. “She’s way too busy with the inn.”
“Well if she wasn’t, what kind of guy would she date?”
Chie and Kanji share a look.
“It’s hard to say,” she hedges, while Kanji simultaneously offers a blunt “weird, probably.” After a second, he follows up with “Wait, are you interested in her?”
“Of course I am!” Sakamoto bristles as they share another look. “I’m serious about this!”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work,” is Kanji’s immediate response. “If anything, that probably leaves you worse off.”
“Look, Sakamoto-kun…” Chie deliberates on whether to actually get involved, and decides to follow Kanji's example of just being blunt. “It’s none of my business if you try and go after her,” yes it is, “but I really don’t think it’ll work out. She just doesn’t have time for that.”
“Oh, and she has time for you?” He stares directly at her with a look of disgust. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“What?!” Even though she knows it’s not possible, not here, her mind jumps to a castle, a ballroom, chandeliers creaking ominously overhead.
“You can’t win as a girl, let alone a person. You’re pathetic!”
Smug yellow eyes, a sharp gaze with a tongue to match. “No, you’re wrong-” Don’t come near me! Don’t look at me!
She’s jolted to the present when Kanji slams his fists onto the table. “Shut up! I dare you to say that again!”
“Which one is it?” he challenges, before balking at Kanji’s glower. Still, in a pathetic attempt at intimidation, he manages to choke out “You’re not involved, stay out of this!”
“The hell I’m not! Like gonna sit here while you talk shit-”
“Kanji-kun.” Strangely enough seeing him so riled up has a somewhat calming effect on her. Chie takes a breath, and plasters a smile on her face. “Two against one wouldn’t be very fair, would it? Let’s go.” After a tense moment he lets out a sigh and stands up, though he doesn’t stop glaring at Sakamoto.
She leaves the coupons at the table.
“Who the hell does he think he is,” Kanji fumes, storming his way towards Tatsumi Textiles. They’re not even out of earshot, at least, not with his volume. “What’s he tryin’ to pull, huh? He’s sure as hell lucky you didn’t bring senpai, she would’ve-“
“Don’t tell her.”
“What?” He fixes her with an incredulous squint. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to know if people were talkin’ shit about Yukiko-senpai?”
“Of course I would! But…” she thinks about having to acknowledge the rumors, the whispers, thinks about Yukiko finding out, understanding, and realizing that she... that she's...
In the end, all she can do is shake her head. Kanji stares at her a bit more, then shrugs. “Alright, whatever you say. Doesn’t change the fact he was way outta line.”
“I hurt his feelings, I guess.” It comes out a bit too unconvincing for her tastes, not that it matters to Kanji.
“That doesn’t give him the right to say that crap.”
“You don't think it does?”
“Of course not,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I know you, and you ain’t like that.”
No, you’re wrong. It builds up suddenly, churning and rancid, and just when she thinks it’ll burst out, just when she think she’ll let it, Kanji lets out another sigh and somehow everything dissipates as quick as it came.
“Sucks that we didn’t get anything,” he complains. “I never go to Souzai, even though it’s right across the street.”
“Next time I’ll treat you to a steak bowl,” she promises with a grin, careful to keep her voice steady. “The sauce is to die for.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits, raking her hand through sleek black hair.
“That’s fine,” Yukiko mumbles, languid and lethargic. She absently tilts her head towards Chie’s hand, letting out a sigh when fingernails scrape softly against her scalp. Chie bites her tongue and keeps brushing, swallowing the words that won’t quite come out.
“And he looks me straight in the eyes and says, ‘well, at least it’s not a garbage can’t’. Can you believe-!”
“Am I a good person?”
They both start, equally stunned by the question, and Yosuke cuts off mid-rant. He stares at her for a second; she can see him frantically going over the conversation for any hint of how it derailed so abruptly. “What? I mean, I guess? Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”
She thinks about the only other two that saw her true self, and cringes. “Look, you’re the only one I can talk about this with, alright? Teddie’s… Teddie, and Souji’s… nice.” Which isn’t the reason she doesn’t want to talk to him, but also. It is.
“What, and I’m not?” Yosuke gripes, but without any real bite. He gets that there are times people need Souji’s brand of kindness, of acceptance, of understanding, all despite his talent for discerning the truth, and times where the thought of such generosity is sickening. He sits, silent and still, and she doesn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated that he’s deliberating so thoroughly on her question. At last he leans back onto the bars of the roof, tilting his head towards her, looking from the corner of his eyes. “Overall? Yeah, I’d say you are.”
She blinks. “Overall?”
“Well, I mean, you hold a grudge, you’re nosey, you’re pushy, you’re entirely too violent – “ he tenses, anticipating the subsequent punch. “Exactly my point! But y’know, you don’t have to be… ashamed.” He rubs his arm, though it’s gotta be more for show than anything because she definitely didn’t hit him that hard. “It’s not all you, right? It’s just what you feel. It’s like, what you do with what you feel. That’s what counts, I think…”
He trails off, leaving each of them to remember a haze of fog and undeniable truths.
“It’s not that she’s, well, not invited, but. I mean. Don’t you get tired of hanging out with her all the time?
The ensuing silence is thick enough to swallow, nuanced in a way words can't quite articulate.
“It’s gotta be exhausting. I mean, she’s so…” He trails off, probably with the dawning realization that this was absolutely the wrong approach to take. The atmosphere's almost like miasma; each breath feels heavier than the last.
”Amiya-kun, was it?” It wasn’t, not even close. “Never talk to me again.”
The percussive slam of the door strikes the air. Chie says nothing, trailing behind as Yukiko storms through the hallway.
“You never needed me, you know,” she starts, idly flipping through a magazine, eyes skimming over words she doesn’t bother to read. “You’ve always been good at handling things, even if you don’t think it.” She looks after my worthless self rings all too clearly in her mind, and Chie flops backwards onto the bed, ruining the crisply folded sheets. “I was jealous of you. Or at least, I thought I was. Now I think I was jealous of them.”
“Who?”
“The boys that liked you, I guess. I mean, they had a chance to replace me. If you actually did end up dating one of them, you wouldn’t rely on me as much. Even though…” Even though I was there first. Even though I was there longest. Even though you were mine. But no, she can’t admit that, not yet. She closes her eyes, leaving the thought suspended between them, filling her head like static.
She feels the bed dip, and when Chie opens her eyes Yukiko’s leaning over her, framed by the light above and the staccato shadow of the ceiling fan. There’s an intense look in her eyes, focused, piercing, and for a breathless second the thought of maybe, maybe, is all that runs through her mind. Maybe what? She doesn’t know, but her heart’s caught in her throat until their fingers thread together, and Yukiko’s forehead rests against hers.
She squeezes her hand, much too tightly to possibly be comfortable, but Yukiko doesn’t say anything; they stay like that until Chie’s breath evens out, wondering what she did to deserve this.