Chapter Text
Yosuke’s really not sure how he ended up on fishing duty.
It’s just, it’s Yu’s birthday tomorrow, and he’s coming back to Inaba (he’s celebrating a day early with his parents, he told the crew), and they all know he has an almost cat-like affinity for fish, and the other half of the team is taking care of decorating the Dojima household. Which they were originally all gonna do together. Until Yosuke and Kanji had one too many arguments about how cutesy Kanji’s decorative choices are and Kanji knocked over one too many decorations because he’d accidentally gotten too close to Naoto for the umpteenth time and Rise says “Out, out, out!” and the next thing Yosuke knows, he, Kanji, and Naoto are fishing on the riverbank for Yu’s birthday meal.
Well, Kanji and Naoto are fishing, anyway. Yosuke’s got his hook in the water, but he’s hardly paying attention. He honestly does not have the patience or the attention span to sit and watch the bobber, waiting for a dip which might or might not be a fish taking the bait. He turns his music on, though he leaves his headphones around his neck; he figures it’s probably rude to pop them onto his ears while Kanji and Naoto are right next to him. Even if the two of them are about as talkative as a couple of rocks. (Privately, Yosuke thinks rocks would have a better chance at conversation.) The problem is, Naoto doesn’t say much, and though Kanji normally would, Naoto seems to be an auto-lock trigger for his jaw.
Yosuke’s fingers fiddle with the fishing line, with the grip, with the spinner. Honestly, it’s not helping his poor focus any that Yu’s gonna be here tomorrow, and if that doesn’t make Yosuke impatient, he doesn’t know what would. His partner’s been doing his best to visit every few weeks, sure – and honestly that’s more than any of them had hoped for, when he first moved back home. Yosuke suspects that might have some relation to why Yu insisted on working so hard at his part-time jobs while he was living in Inaba… he’d thought further ahead than any of them, to when he’d eventually be gone again, and saved up accordingly. Of course, now that Yosuke’s had plenty of time after the fact to think about it, he’s decided he knows exactly what Yu’s birthday gift will be. It turns out there are things more valuable to spend his Junes paycheck on than cool sneakers and CDs. Things like Yu’s train tickets. After all, they’re partners, aren’t they?
“…-senpai? Yosuke-senpai!”
Kanji’s abruptly insistent voice startles him, and he jerks his head up. “Huh?”
“Your line, you moron! Ain’t you watchin’?!”
Two seconds later, Kanji’s much larger hand covers Yosuke’s on the fishing pole as he attempts to get a firm grip on it, and Yosuke belatedly realizes that his bobber has – finally – gone under. He also realizes that Kanji is way too freakin’ close and jerks away accordingly. Kanji’s grip hasn’t yet solidified, unfortunately, and Yosuke’s hand slips out from under his, allowing him to topple forward into the water with an incredibly graceful squawking noise.
Seconds later, he finds himself hauled right back out by the shirt collar, sputtering and coughing all the way. “Th… thanks…” he wheezes, only to be dumped onto his backside on the riverbank. When he finally manages to wipe all of the water from his eyes, he finds Kanji staring at Yosuke’s fallen fishing pole with an odd look on his face. Naoto, on the other hand, has fixed Yosuke with a stare that is something akin to “icily murderous”.
“Yosuke-senpai,” Kanji says finally, his voice unusually muted. “If it bothers you that much, sittin’ next to me, just… go home already.” He continues to stare at the fishing pole. “I get it, okay?” A fist clenches, unclenches, clenches again. “Keep hopin’ that one of these days you’ll get over it, finally stop treatin’ me like a freakin’ leper, but that ain’t gonna happen, is it?” His shoulders sink wearily, as though he’s surrendering in some invisible battle, and he turns away. “Just cause I look like a Yank doesn’t mean it don’t hurt, y’know.”
All of a sudden Yosuke feels as though there’s a stone in the pit of his stomach. He swallows, opens his mouth, shuts it again. Kanji’s supposed to get angry, supposed to yell at him, supposed to start ranting about proving his manliness again. He’s not supposed to sound… vulnerable, sad.
He’s not supposed to sound hurt.
“Just go home already,” Kanji repeats, and this time his voice is rough, raw.
Yosuke takes a couple of steps back, the stone in his stomach turning to hot poison, making him sick with guilt. He didn’t… he never meant… he just—
In the blink of an eye, Naoto is standing in front of him, her eyes narrow with fury. She doesn’t hesitate before curling her fist into the neck of his shirt, hauling him stumbling after her up the riverbank and far enough down the sidewalk that they are out of Kanji’s earshot before yanking him down to her eye level.
“I consider myself a patient individual,” she says, her voice dangerously low. “I have to be. Case work requires it. But you have pushed my not-inconsiderable patience to its limits. Kanji-kun may be rough around the edges at times, but he’s repeatedly and consistently shown kindness to all of us – and yet you continue to respond to him like a child. Grow up, Senpai. Grow up, or stay away from him. Better that you don’t show up at all than keep hurting him like you’ve been doing.” She finally releases his shirt with a look of disgust. “I’d have thought for certain that after all the strange and bizarre experiences we have been through as a group – after everything we have seen of each other’s darker natures – that none of us would manage to come out the other side as narrow-minded as we began. How can you still choose to be so blind to the complexity of the world around you?”
The searing shame that twists in Yosuke’s stomach like a knife’s blade is only barely interrupted by the thought that he’s never heard Naoto say so much all at once, let alone so vehemently.
“You act as though it is all black and white, when we of all people should know better by now.” She gazes up at him challengingly, and Yosuke swallows again, hard. “Setting aside the fact that Kanji-kun has stated very clearly – many times – that his Shadow never had anything to do with a genuine sexual preference for men but rather a fear of women due to their constant misjudgment and mistreatment of him, do you truly believe that it is inherently wrong for a man to find happiness in another man? That those men are somehow defective?” Her lips form a thin line.
“Do you truly believe that just because one falls in love with women, one can’t also fall in love with men?”
It is this last remark that strikes him the hardest, and he lets out a breath as though she’s dealt a physical blow to his chest.
She’s right. He knows she’s right. Thing is, if he admits as much, there are other things that he will also have to own up to – at least in his own mind – and he’s not sure he can handle that. But he owes it to Kanji. Owes it to all of them. He can’t run away from this again.
He hangs his head low, shoves his hands in his pockets miserably. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice weak, ashamed. “I just can’t – I don’t know how…” he fumbles pathetically, then yanks at his bangs with a growl of frustration. “I… I’ve been. I’ve been an ass,” he continues; his vision slowly goes out of focus like a camera lens turned the wrong way. “I just. I’m scared.” He inhales shakily, exhales. “That’s… it’s not an excuse. It’s not. I’m just… scared to let things be as… as complicated as they really are.” Naoto remains silent. Yosuke looks at her, then over her shoulder, towards Kanji. He hesitates. His hands are shaking with a sudden adrenaline rush he hadn’t realized had jumped him. “I… can I, um. Can I go apologize? To him, I mean. And…” he digs the toe of his sneaker into the grass that edges the sidewalk, for once not caring that he’s marring the pure white of the rim. “…And can I… talk with you guys?”
He finally risks looking back at Naoto, and finds her gazing straight into his eyes. He stiffens, but does not look away. She’s searching for something – what, he’s not sure. Evidently, though, she finds what she’s looking for. She nods her assent and finally uncrosses her arms, turning to stride gracefully back in the direction they came from. Yosuke follows her after a moment, his shoulders hunched awkwardly.