Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Her persona is the opposite of mine,” Fuuka said, though she felt as if her mouth was on autopilot rather than her brain actively moving her lips. “Instead of sensing life, it gives life.”

But at a price, she knew. Chidori may have been saving Junpei, but she was dooming herself. Fuuka wanted to turn away, wanted nothing more than to give the couple privacy and allow Junpei to say his good byes in peace, but she couldn’t get herself to stop watching. Tears dripping down her face and fists clenched in front of her chest, Fuuka bit her lip to contain her sobs. She may not have known Chidori personally, but she could still feel Junpei’s sorrow.

She wanted to help him, help Chidori, do anything really, but there was nothing she could do but stand and soak in the misery pouring from Junpei, feel the life drain from Chidori as she lay in Junpei’s arms, and try not to make her own tears too obvious.

It was Akihiko who ended up comforting Junpei the most, being the first to approach him and the one to calm him down when Takaya and Jin approached, not even upset about their fallen teammate, and now Fuuka was angry.

No, she hadn’t known Chidori personally, but if Junpei had loved her so very much, she must’ve been a good person. Even if she hadn’t been, she didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved this, Fuuka firmly believed, first to give up their own life for the person they loved and then to be mocked for it by the people they’d trusted.

Once Takaya and Jin had disappeared, the rest of the night was a blur. She remembered Akihiko calming Junpei down and helping him up. She remembered them slowly treading their way back to the dorm to await the end of the dark hour, Junpei leaning heavily on Akihiko as he walked while Minato stayed close to his other side, occasionally placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Fuuka had stayed near the back of the group, mind numb even as she made sure that a part of her was still keeping watch for Strega, should they reappear. She didn’t know why Takaya and Jin had refused to fight. Surely that moment would’ve been the easiest to defeat them with how shaken up they all were over the death and revival of one of their own members, but they had been spared. She was sure later, when she wasn’t so distracted by Junpei’s grief, that she would worry about what they must have planned for the future.

But in that moment, she let her mind go as quiet as the night around her.

---

Junpei needed time. Fuuka had expected this, but it still felt so very unnatural hanging around downstairs in the dorm without Junpei eating his instant noodles in the kitchen or chatting with Yukari on the couch. The upperclassmen seemed to be back to normal by the next day, albeit still worried about Junpei, but a solemn air had fallen over the rest of the dorm. Even Koromaru seemed down.

Fuuka desperately wanted to see him, to visit Junpei and make sure he was coping. Grief was okay. Grief was healthy and expected, but Fuuka had never seen anything other than Junpei’s usual cheerful self, and the change scared her more than she’d like to admit. Why she was more concerned now than she had been when Mitsuru's father had died, or even Shinjiro, she didn’t know.

Junpei had lost someone important to him. Fuuka wanted to help, to soothe his pain in any way that she could, but she didn’t feel it was right of her. Of course Junpei was her friend, but she wasn’t nearly as close to him as Junpei was to Yukari or Minato or even Akihiko.

Besides, Fuuka couldn’t possibly relate to the amount of pain Junpei was in. She had never lost somebody close to her. Losing Shinjiro had been hard on her, but she hadn’t been in love with him like Junpei had been with Chidori.

So she sat on the couch in the dorm on her laptop, day in and day out while Junpei holed himself up in his room and Yukari and Minato took turns shooting her more and more concerned looks as the days went on.

I don’t deserve those looks, Fuuka told herself. Yukari and Minato should’ve been focusing on Junpei. Selfish was one trait Fuuka had never before related to herself, but now, oh now she felt selfish. How dare she pull the attention of her friends toward herself when Junpei needed it so much more?

It was a few days later when Fuuka felt a sudden shift in the feeling of the dorm. Minutes later, Junpei came down the stairs and declared his intentions of returning to fight with SEES, and Fuuka could breathe again.

Seeing Chidori’s sketchbook didn’t make Junpei whole again, but Fuuka could tell some of the cracks in his fragile heart had begun to seal, and with some care, Junpei would be smiling again soon.

When his smile finally did return, Fuuka herself smiled for the first time since Chidori had died.

---

The end of the world. Fuuka had been sure she’d known true fear in the past, but she realized nothing compared to watching her friends, her dear friends, the people she loved more than anyone else in the world, face a piece of death itself. For the first time since she had awakened her persona all those months ago, she wished she could do something other than provide support.

If only Juno could burn their enemies like Trismegistus or shock them like Caesar. She had never felt so useless, even as Mitsuru assured her that they’d all be lost without her, that they would never have gotten so far without the watchful eye of first Lucia, then Juno guiding them along.

As Fuuka relayed command after command to her companions, letting them know of Nyx’s constantly changing arcana, she could feel the pain being inflicted on each and every one of them. Nyx was strong. They couldn’t beat Nyx.

But they had to beat Nyx. There was no other option, and as much as Fuuka knew this, she also knew they were too weak, or really, Nyx was too strong. She didn’t dare even think of her friends as weak… They’d been fighting so hard, so long, and for what, an impossible battle with a minion of death?

Fuuka put all thoughts of despair out of her head as she focused on the battle, letting Minato know when one of the other team members was hurt or tired, yelling out little encouragements, updating the arcana again and again and again.

They were going to lose. The world was going to end, even after everything they had done. And then, Minato left them.

---

She knew her dormmates talked about her. She could hear them whisper from her spot on the couch, and she wondered why they didn’t go upstairs to gossip. Maybe they were trying to get her to leave.

They never said anything rude… It almost seemed sometimes as if they were trying to gather the courage to talk to her, but maybe she seemed too unapproachable, always hiding behind her laptop screen.

Yukari frowned at her often, while Minato tended to give her bored looks. She’d excuse him though, since he always looked bored. Junpei had looked at her curiously a few times, and he’d been the only one to try to talk to her. He’d stopped quickly after several of what she believed had been jokes fell flat, and he hadn’t tried again since.

She doubted any one of them even knew her name.

The upperclassmen were even stranger, spending almost all their time in the dorm in their own rooms. She supposed they had an excuse though--entrance exams were coming, and both of them had always been preoccupied with their studies. Mitsuru had smiled at her a few times, though her eyes seemed drawn much more often to Yukari. Akihiko had never so much as glanced in her direction.

Everyone stayed away from the other two human members of the dorm. Aigis was strange in a way Fuuka couldn’t put her finger on, and she didn’t think anyone even knew why Ken, an elementary school student, was staying in the high school dorm.

Koromaru was the only constant in the lives of all the students—Everyone thoroughly enjoyed walking him, and they had a rotation so that everybody had an equal chance at that chore. No one ever questioned aloud why they had a dorm pet, even though she was sure everyone wondered.

Fuuka knew a lot of what was going on around the dorm, always having been a good listener, but after a few weeks, she found it easier just to drown everybody out. Akihiko and Mitsuru were friends, but they avoided the underclassmen. Minato, Yukari, and Junpei had formed their own little clique and didn’t seem to want to let anyone else in. Aigis was intimidating, and Ken seemed uncomfortable living with students five years his senior.

They all wondered about the others in their dorm, wondered how they had spent a year living together, yet didn’t even know some of their dormmates’ names.

Fuuka knew them all.

She knew that Yukari loved archery, while Akihiko spent the majority of the time he wasn’t studying training for boxing tournaments. Mitsuru was top of the class, student council president, and a brilliant fencer. Junpei was always laughing, always happy, always sharing his cheer with his friends, and Minato was opposite Junpei in every way. Ken cried sometimes, late at night, probably because he missed his mother. Fuuka wasn’t sure what had happened to her, and sometimes, she wondered if even Ken knew. Aigis rarely spoke. Aigis kept to herself. Aigis spent an unnatural amount of time hiding behind furniture and watching Minato, and Fuuka stayed away from her when she could.

There had been someone named Shinjiro at the dorm before. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, wasn’t even sure why he was gone now, but sometimes she’d hear Akihiko talk about him with Mitsuru, and she’d get flashes in her mind of a long red coat and a black hat, and when she’d blink her eyes, she’d feel tears fall down her cheeks. She wanted to ask what had happened to him, but once, she’d overheard Akihiko in his bedroom asking Mitsuru the same thing, voice cracking just moments before Mitsuru stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

No one ever mentioned Shinjiro after that.

Graduation was coming, and Fuuka texted Natsuki that morning, telling her about how her dormmates had walked to school without her again. She knew they were in a different class, but they were the same age, and they were all going to the same building. She would’ve liked to get to know them better, but now it seemed she’d never have the chance.

She had a strange feeling about that day, though she kept that tidbit from her texts. Natsuki already teased Fuuka enough, even though Fuuka knew it was only because Natsuki cared about her.

Wish I could be there. I’d walk with you for sure!! Fuuka smiled to herself, tucking her phone away after reading Natsuki’s reply.

She sat with her classmates, hands folded in her lap and legs crossed at the ankle. And there on the stage was Mitsuru, gorgeous, intelligent Mitsuru with her graduation speech, but something felt wrong.

Mitsuru’s father, Mitsuru said, had passed away from sudden illness, but Fuuka had a niggling thought in her mind that no, that wasn’t right, why was Mitsuru lying to her, to everybody? Mitsuru’s words were slowing, a look of confusion twisting her beautiful features, one hand reaching up to rest on her head, mussing her hair.

She found her place in the speech. She was still talking, but Fuuka couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of Akihiko grabbing Junpei and yanking him out of his seat a few rows over. And suddenly, it all came flooding back.

---

Aigis had been the last one to see him, to see Minato, and the shock of the loss hit fast and hard so soon after the rush of finally remembering.

The grief overtook all of them, and Fuuka knew many of her friends were grieving anew for their remembered loved ones. Ken sobbed almost every night, and Akihiko and Mitsuru spent awhile reminiscing and remembering Shinjiro. The knowledge of how their fathers had died returned to Mitsuru and Yukari both, but for Junpei, grief hit the worst.

Not only had he lost Minato—his best friend—but he lost Chidori all over again. He’d barely remembered the girl with the long red hair before graduation day, but of course, the memories came back. Guilt brought on by forgetting Chidori’s sacrifice flooded Junpei, and Fuuka could feel everything. She knew everything flowing through the hearts of her friends, and even though she was so, so glad they had all finally remembered, she almost missed those past months during which they had been allowed to forget.

The memories, their friendship, was worth the pain in the end, though. Even though he likely hadn’t realized, hadn’t known at the end, Minato’s death could now be mourned in the way he deserved by his beloved friends. They had remembered him. His sacrifice for them, for the world, would be in their hearts forever.

---

It truly felt like an ending after they put time right just a few weeks later, led by Aigis and her strange sister, Metis. They all said their good byes, promised to stay in touch, but Fuuka knew most of them wanted nothing more than to forget.

She wasn’t sure she herself didn’t want to forget. Surely the others had forgiven her for her lack of choice, unable to decide whether or not to undo everything they had worked for to save a single life. In the end though, she realized that no matter how much she wanted it to be, the past couldn’t be changed, and it would’ve been an insult to Minato’s memory if they were to try.

She waved silently at Aigis and Yukari’s backs as they made their way out of the dorm for the last time before stepping back and shutting the door, staring at it for a moment before turning and surveying the room.

So many nights had been spent here, sitting alongside her dormmates—no, her friends. She couldn’t imagine now not knowing, not remembering, what they had gone through together.

“They’re gonna miss you too, you know.”

Fuuka jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to her right to see Junpei lounging against the wall.

“Heh, sorry for startling you. But you’re worried they’ll forget again, right?”

Fuuka bowed her head, a gentle smile on her lips. “I don’t think they’ll forget, but I know they’ll move on. It’s what should happen, though. Yukari and Aigis both need to find a new purpose.

“They’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Junpei agreed, placing a hand on her shoulder. They stood in silence for a few more moments.

“Junpei-san—”

“We should probably get going, too,” Junpei interrupted, seeming to not have heard Fuuka at all. “Stay in touch.”

And suddenly he was walking away, back toward the stairs and to his room, and Fuuka felt as if her feet were glued to the floor as she watched him go, mouth still hanging open on the words she hadn’t said.

“I will,” she whispered, a promise to all the SEES members. They all needed to move on, but they could never forget.

---

She tried to keep in contact with her friends, sending them texts every few months and calling to ask if they could meet up when she knew they’d be in the area, but all of her friends had grown up, and really, so had she.

Surprisingly, Junpei always seemed to be the one to answer her calls the fastest, respond to her emails first, and sometimes, he was even the one to send her a text out of the blue, but he was also the only one she had not seen in person since high school.

She asked Yukari about him once, when she and Mitsuru had managed to both get time out of their own lives and their own jobs to meet with Fuuka in Chagall Café.

“I’ve seen him a few times,” Yukari said with a frown. “Not often. I mean, he used to text me all the time, but I think he gave up when he realized I didn’t reply a lot. Not everyone can sit around and text all day!”

Fuuka nodded in understanding, but let the subject drop.

It was just a few weeks later that Fuuka saw the two women again, this time alongside the rest of SEES.

---

Everyone trickled out of the restaurant slowly, most of them leaving in small groups. Having the whole team together alongside the little group from Inaba had been a nice change, Fuuka thought, as she watched Akihiko and Ken walk out with Chie, who was gesticulating in excitement, and Yukiko, who was giggling behind her hand.

Laying down her chopsticks, Fuuka let out a sigh. She wasn’t stuck in the past, she knew, but regardless, it felt as if her friends were having so much more success in moving forward than she ever hoped to. They all had their lives figured out, they’d met new people, made new friends.

“Hey, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk earlier! You on your way out, or can you stay a bit?”

For the second time in her life, Fuuka jumped in surprise at the sound of Junpei’s voice. How such a vibrant, loud person could make himself invisible enough as to startle her, Fuuka would never understand.

“I’ve finished eating, but if you’re done too, we could go for a walk together,” Fuuka suggested. “I’d rather not take up room here if neither of us are going to order anything else.”

“Sure, I’m done. And I’m totally up for exploring Inaba! Doubt I’ll ever be coming back here again,” Junpei said with a good-natured grin, rising from his seat and heading for the door, holding it open for Fuuka to exit before him.

---

They found themselves on a path by a river and made their way through the grass to sit near the edge, Fuuka trailing her fingers in the water, teasing the goldfish swimming near the surface.

“You grew your hair out,” Junpei said. Their walk had been silent, so Fuuka supposed such an inane comment made sense as an icebreaker of sorts.

“Yes. I decided it was time for a change,” she replied, reaching a hand up to touch her braid, keeping her eyes on the river.

“It suits you.”

“Thank you.”

For all the talking through technology the two had been doing over the past few years, talking in person was awkward. But for all the embarrassment Fuuka was feeling, she didn’t want the moment to end.

---

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Fuuka said just weeks later, as she set down the final box in her new home.

“Yeah, well, like I said, rent here’s too high for one person, and I have an extra room. You hadn’t really settled anywhere, so why not?” Junpei said with a nervous laugh. “Ummm, I’ll show you your room? There’s the kitchen over there,” he pointed out as they made their way through the apartment. “My room’s here—” he motioned toward a closed door to their left, “—and this one will be yours. Make yourself at home!”

Junpei gave her a wide smile, hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he left Fuuka to her own devices. She didn’t even take a moment to look around before flopping heavily onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Everything had happened so quickly, but here she was, living in an apartment. With Junpei. Their speech had never progressed beyond the awkward, stilted small talk they’d engaged in on the riverbank in Inaba, but Fuuka longed for her friends, longed for the relationships she’d built back when she’d been a member of SEES, but it felt like everyone else had left her behind long ago.

Until Junpei made an off-hand comment about how he’d been searching for a roommate, and Fuuka jumped at the chance without looking back.

It seemed like hours passed but surely it hadn’t been more than one before a knock sounded on the door, a quick warning before Junpei popped his head into the room. “I’ve ordered takeout, if you want to come eat? I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I ordered a lot of different things.”

“You could’ve just asked me, Junpei. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Junpei said with a sheepish grin.

“Thank you. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Junpei nodded before pulling his head back out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Fuuka rose from the bed, smoothing down her hair and straightening her shirt, steeling herself for another night of conversation. She really hoped this time wasn’t as awkward as the last.

---

Fuuka had thought she might be stuck in the past, but even if this may still be true, she knew at least that she was not the only one.

Junpei usually returned home from work early enough to eat with Fuuka, but there were certain days when he’d be gone late into the night with no warning. It wasn’t her place to be upset about it, so Fuuka stayed quiet. Though she’d never tell Junpei, on the nights when he didn’t return until after midnight, she wasn’t able to sleep no matter how hard she tried, worrying about car crashes or serial killers or crazy baseball accidents.

Not shadows, never shadows, Fuuka told herself. Who was she kidding though, it was always shadows. The knowledge that those things existed was always in the back of her mind, always haunting her. They could come back. The Dark Hour could return, and if Junpei was out and unprepared … There was nothing Fuuka could do to save him.

There had been a few times Fuuka had been tempted to use Juno, if only to get an idea of where her friend was, but she’d managed to push down the urge, bury it under the knowledge that it’d be a horrible invasion of privacy, and she had no reason to know Junpei’s whereabouts. He had his own life, his own hobbies, his own friends. Just because Fuuka’s job allowed her to work from home more often than not and she hadn’t found any local clubs to join didn’t mean that she could monopolize Junpei’s time.

He was his own person, just as Fuuka was hers.

She wasn’t prepared the night Junpei came stumbling home at 2:15 in the morning and made a horrible racket in the kitchen. It sounded as if he was slamming cabinets for the heck of it, and Fuuka was filled with a rage she hadn’t felt since high school.

How dare he stay out without warning, not tell her where he’s going, make her stay up and worry about him, and then return and make enough noise to wake the entire building?

She didn’t take a moment to think before throwing the door open and sprinting out of the room, wanting to do nothing but give her idiot friend a piece of her mind, but the sight she was met with in the kitchen froze the words in her throat.

Junpei, after seemingly running out of energy, had slumped onto the table and buried his head in his arms. Loud sobs wracked through him, strong enough to shake his shoulders and genuine enough to cause every bit of anger to drain from Fuuka.

Lowering herself into a chair, she placed a tentative hand on Junpei’s shoulder, unsure whether or not he would want the company. He gave no indication that he had felt the touch other than a brief increase in volume of his sobs.

Fuuka took this as invitation to stay, beginning to rub his back with a stronger touch, staying silent as his crying slowed, then stopped. His head remained buried in his arms.

“Junpei—”

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Junpei’s voice was clear and sure, if a bit choked from his tears. Fuuka had been convinced the man had to be drunk with all the noise he’d been making, but it seemed she’d been wrong.

“You didn’t wake me. No need to apologize.” Junpei raised an eyebrow and frowned. “I have a hard time sleeping whenever you come home late, so I usually stay up and read rather than even try,” she explained, removing her hand from where it had still been resting on Junpei’s shoulder and folding it with the other one on the table in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Junpei’s eyes looked wild, scared, trapped.

“I-I didn’t think it was important! It was my own problem, and I didn’t want to keep you from going out on your own because you were worrying about me!”

“I didn’t think…I didn’t know…” Everything seemed to freeze. Their eyes met briefly before Junpei dropped his gaze. “I just…I miss them so much, Fuuka.”

Fuuka stayed silent.

“Minato and...and Chidori.” Junpei’s shoulders were shaking again, but tears were not yet falling.

A pang shot through Fuuka’s heart, pulling a gasp from her lips. It had been so long since she’d heard that name. She’d been sure Junpei had gotten over her. Not forgotten, never forgotten, but moved on, just as the rest of their friends had from their own losses.

“Oh, Junpei,” she breathed, tears welling up in her own eyes now, just before flinging her arms around Junpei and pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Fuuka didn’t remember when she fell asleep, but she also didn’t remember ever letting go of Junpei. Regardless, she woke up the next morning in her own bed, blanket tucked under her chin, and the smell of coffee trailing in from the kitchen.

Both of them had red eyes for the rest of the day, but neither of them mentioned it.

---

Hows the roomie?? Gettin along better now? Fuuka smiled when she received the text. Though they didn’t talk often, Natsuki still made an effort to catch up whenever she could catch a break from her job.

We’ve always gotten along! But yeah we talk more now. :)

When Fuuka only got a smiley face in reply, she snapped the phone closed and set it aside. Natsuki had probably gotten caught up in something and couldn’t talk any longer.

Fuuka was quick to go back to her own work before being interrupted again by the slam of the front door. Jumping in surprise, she shot a quick glance at the clock beside her before rising from her desk and making her way to the living room to greet her friend.

“Hello! I was going to make something for dinner tonight, but it’s not quite ready yet. I must’ve lost track of time,” Fuuka said, smiling as Junpei kicked off his shoes.

“’S fine. I wanted to…Could I talk to you, Fuuka?”

“Of course,” Fuuka said, immediately moving toward the couch and lowering herself onto it, leaving ample room for Junpei to sit beside her.

He took the extra room, flopping down and stretching his legs out. He was still dressed in his baseball uniform, not even bothering to remove his hat, which became apparent to him when he tried to lean his head on the back of the couch and was instead met with the barrier of the hat’s bill.

Laughing lightly to himself, he took the hat off and held it in his hands instead, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“We…The other night, I, umm—”

“Junpei-kun, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I understand. I miss Minato too, and I know I can’t imagine how you must feel about losing Chidori, but it has to be so much worse. You’re allowed to be sad, Junpei, and I’ll be here for you when you need someone.”

“I thought she was the one, you know? And leaving me with a part of herself…It feels like it’d be a betrayal if I fell in love with someone else.”

Fuuka would be lying if she said this was the direction she had expected this conversation to go.

“I didn’t know Chidori very well, but from what she did for you, I know she loved you. Someone who loves you would never want your life to be put on hold for them if they’re never going to come back.”

“I know; I keep telling myself the same thing, but…It’s hard.”

Fuuka only nodded, reaching an arm around Junpei’s shoulders and tugging him closer, allowing him to lean into her side.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but thanks. I know you didn’t do it for me, but I’m glad you moved in,” Junpei mumbled, bending the bill of his cap as he talked.

“I’m glad I did, too.” Fuuka’s voice was soft, contemplative, and something in the tone seemed to strike a chord with Junpei as he raised his head to look Fuuka in the eye, faces just centimeters away from each other.

They noticed the awkward position at precisely the same moment, Fuuka’s face immediately growing hot, both of them jumping back to opposite ends of the couch and turning away from each other.

“W-well, if that’s all, I’m going to go start dinner!” Fuuka declared, standing abruptly.

“Sounds good! I’m just going to watch TV. In here. Okay!” Fuuka was in the kitchen before Junpei had even finished his sentence.

For the first time in years, Fuuka’s cooking turned out inedible.

---

“It’s so good to see you again! How has your job been?” Fuuka was quick to grab Yukari’s jacket as she made her way into the apartment.

“Great, thanks! You should come visit the set some day, if you can ever make it. Mitsuru’s come to watch us film a few times now,” Yukari said with a smirk. “She’s even brought Ken when she can manage to pull him away from Akihiko. Apparently our senpai is very strict when it comes to making sure Ken studies.”

Giggling, Fuuka carried two cups of tea, setting them next to the tray of sandwiches on the coffee table before sitting beside Yukari.

“It’s hard to imagine Akihiko as the fatherly type,” Fuuka admitted, still laughing at the thought.

“True, true. You’d be surprised, though. According to Mitsuru, Ken’s currently top of his class. It’s yet to be decided whether that’s from Ken’s own brilliance, or Akihiko’s parenting skills,” Yukari said before helping herself to one of the sandwiches.

“It’s weird how we all ended up together. Guess we were a group never really meant to split up,” Yukari continued.

“Wait, what do you mean? Junpei and me, obviously, and then Akihiko, Ken, and Koromaru, but…”

“Oh, didn’t you hear? Mitsuru asked me to move in with her just a few weeks ago! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe Junpei didn’t mention it!” Yukari exclaimed.

“Oh, Yukari, I’m so happy for you!” Fuuka raved, grabbing Yukari’s hands in her own.

“Thank you! I’m pretty happy myself, you know. Now, as soon as Junpei manages to shape up, we’ll all just have to worry about Akihiko finding somebody.”

“Yea—Wait, what?”

It was at this moment that Fuuka heard a key turning in the lock of their door before the door itself flew open, Junpei marching in.

“Yuka-tan! Glad I made it home in time to see you,” Junpei said with a wink.

“Junpei-kun!” Fuuka jumped from the couch, bowing her head in Junpei’s direction. “Please sit down! You and Yukari should catch up, and I’ll go make some more tea.” Fuuka hurried off to the kitchen before Junpei or Yukari had time to respond, busying herself with the tea kettle.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but both Yukari and Junpei were such naturally loud people that even their whispers carried to the kitchen And if Fuuka was moving slower than usual in an attempt to keep from drowning out their voices, well, neither of them would ever be able to prove it.

“You haven’t said anything to her, have you?” Yukari hissed, what sounded like a muted slap accompanying her words.

“I talked to her about Chidori a few weeks ago! She was nice, but Fuuka’s always nice. I know it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Junpei, you need to tell her. It’s not fair to her for you to keep living here if she doesn’t know.”

“I’ll tell her soon, jeez. It’s not like you have much room to judge, Yuka-tan.” By the tone of his voice, Fuuka knew Junpei was pouting.

“Speaking of that, you didn’t even tell Fuuka that I moved in with Mitsuru! Do you talk to her at all?”

Grabbing Junpei’s freshly-poured cup of tea, Fuuka made her way slowly back into the living room, just as Junpei exclaimed a loud, “Of course I talk to her!” with a dramatic flail of his arms.

It happened in what seemed like slow motion. Fuuka saw the arm coming toward her, but couldn’t move, couldn’t even stop walking. Yukari’s gasp of horror was loud, even as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock. And then there was only a sharp shout of pain from Fuuka as Junpei’s arm knocked the hot cup of tea right out of Fuuka’s hand, spilling it down her shirt.

---

“Great job, Stupei,” Yukari grumbled as soon as Fuuka’s worried friends had determined that her burns were not bad enough to require a doctor. Fuuka was sitting in her bathroom now, a cranky Yukari in front of her with a canister of burn cream. Junpei was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, foot tapping and back to the girls. Fuuka appreciated the privacy as she bit her lip to keep from whining when Yukari began massaging the cream over the bright, red patch on her stomach. She preferred Junpei not see her looking so utterly miserable when the entire thing had just been a silly mistake.

“Shut up, Yukari,” Junpei growled. “Fuuka, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Junpei-kun,” Fuuka choked out. “It was an accident.”

Junpei took a breath, making to turn toward the girls, before exhaling loudly and shaking his head. “I’m going out,” he announced before walking off. Fuuka heard the front door slam a few moments later.

“I’m so sorry, Yukari, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!” Fuuka panicked.

“It’s definitely not your fault. Please don’t stress over it,” Yukari said with a smile, waving her hand as if she were shooing away Fuuka’s apology. “Anyway, the burn cream’s all on, so here’s your shirt.”

Fuuka quickly pulled her shirt over her head, smoothing the wrinkles out as best she could without pressing on her stomach.

“Thank you. Would you like to stay a bit longer? I’m sure there are still some sandwiches,” Fuuka offered.

“Nah, I should probably get going. This was fun though, until Stupei screwed up,” Yukari scowled toward the doorway. “Next time I’ll try to get my day off to match with Mitsuru’s so she can come visit, too.”

The two girls exchanged good byes at the door, Fuuka hurrying to clean up the living room once Yukari had left.

It ended up being hours before Junpei dragged himself back home, but Fuuka had had a lot to think about while she stayed up waiting for him, namely what exactly Yukari had meant when she told Junpei he had to tell Fuuka something.

---

As it turned out, Fuuka didn’t have to wait long for an explanation, or at least part of one. She walked out of her bedroom the next day with her shirt folded up exposing her stomach, the pain from her burn back with a vengeance. Heading straight to the bathroom to reapply her burn cream, she was distracted when Junpei’s bedroom door opened just as she walked past.

With a sound that Fuuka could only describe as a squeak, Junpei’s eyes grew comically wide, and he slammed the door so hard that Fuuka’s hair rustled a bit with the breeze. Shrugging to herself, Fuuka continued on her way, albeit with cheeks just a little bit pinker than before.

She had expected Junpei to be home; It was his day off, after all. But usually on his days off, he got up much earlier than Fuuka and had claimed his spot in front of the television by now.

He probably stayed up too late last night, Fuuka worried as she massaged on another layer of burn cream before tugging her shirt down, making sure her torso was completely covered before stepping out of the bathroom.

She found Junpei in the kitchen, stirring what looked like pancake batter with stiff, jerky movements while squinting down at the bowl.

“Good morning.” She couldn’t help but give a polite greeting, even when she herself had been greeted by silence.

Junpei only grumbled in response, so Fuuka walked right back out of the room, fetching her laptop and taking up residence on the couch instead. If Junpei was going to be rude when she had done absolutely nothing wrong, then she would not be dealing with him today.

She flicked her braid off of her shoulder as she logged on to her computer, going through her email first before visiting a few of her other favored sites.

She had just begun surfing through a forum on gaming when Junpei walked into the room, eyes focused firmly on the opposite wall. “I made breakfast.”

Fuuka nodded, closing her laptop and following Junpei back into the kitchen.

The tension was heavy, silence hanging over the meal, and Fuuka had a feeling of dread deep in her gut. For the first time since moving in with Junpei, she wondered if she was really welcome here. First he’d had that secret conversation with Yukari, and now he was acting as if Fuuka wasn’t even there, and why? Because he had seen her bare stomach by mistake?

Junpei had seen so much worse of her in the year and a half they’d been living together, but…Maybe he was still feeling guilty about causing the burn? That would be so silly though! Fuuka knew it had been a complete accident and had never for a second been mad at him.

She was just opening her mouth to make sure Junpei knew that he’d been fully forgiven when Junpei himself cleared his throat, setting his fork down on his empty plate.

“You said Chidori would forgive me if I fell in love with somebody else.”

This was so far out of left field that Fuuka had to take a moment to gather her thoughts before realizing that Junpei seemed to be waiting for some sort of response.

“…Yes, I did.”

“Okay,” Junpei said, nodding. “Okay.”

He rose from the table then, grabbing the dishes off the table and bringing them to the sink. Turning the water on as high as it would go, he cut off any possibility of the conversation continuing as he began scrubbing the plates.

Fuuka marched up to Junpei’s side, offering up a hand to take the clean plates, running a towel over them before placing them in their rightful spot in the cabinet. She did the same for the glasses and silverware, throwing the forks into a drawer and spinning around, desperate to catch Junpei before he made his escape from the kitchen, as Fuuka was sure he would try to do.

She had been lucky, managing to reach out and snag a grip on the sleeve of his shirt just as he was exiting the room.

“Junpei…” she began before realizing that she didn’t even know what to say. She was sure Junpei must be in love. Why else would he have brought up Chidori again? But until he was more specific, until he explained to her what was making it so hard for him to give up Chidori, Fuuka wasn’t sure what she could do to help.

Junpei stood frozen in the doorway as Fuuka moved closer to him, resting her forehead on his back, right between his shoulder blades.

“I’d give you a hug, but my stomach’s still a little sore,” she said with a tiny, humorless laugh.

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

When Junpei pulled out of her grasp, Fuuka made no move to follow.

---

So your roommates in love? So? Blunt, as usual. But Fuuka hadn’t expected anything else from Natsuki, which was exactly why she'd texted her. She needed to discover why the thought of Junpei in love was making her stomach turn. Natsuki was the one person Fuuka could trust not only to keep the conversation from Junpei, but also to not coddle Fuuka.

Idk. Im happy for him but

…but???

But I feel kinda sick thinkin about it

Fuuka

What???

u have feelings for him dont u

no thats ridiculous! Natsuki no.

thn y do u care???

Natsuki’s increasing abbreviations were evidence that she was likely too busy for this conversation, so Fuuka shut her phone with a sigh, leaning her head on the back of the couch and falling into her own thoughts.

She had hoped Natsuki would add a new theory to her own, but this had been the last thing she had expected, and it was absolutely useless. Of course she wasn’t in love with Junpei! How could she have known him for so long, lived with him for over a year, without realizing something so important?

Just the thought of it caused her to let out a derisive laugh. Natsuki clearly didn’t know Fuuka as well as Fuuka had thought.

In love with Junpei. What a joke! Still forcing out some quiet giggles, Fuuka stretched out so she was laying on the couch. The television was droning in the background, turned to some drama Fuuka had never heard of and had quickly grown bored of in favor of texting Natsuki.

Natsuki was just out of touch with who Fuuka truly was, Fuuka assured herself. After all, Junpei wasn’t her type! He wasn’t even attracti—Well, he had grown into his lanky body as he entered adulthood, and even she had to admit that his hair looked a lot nicer now that he had grown it out.

But his personality was just…He was always teasing and—No, he used to tease her and her female classmates back in high school, but looking back, she couldn’t recall any teasing that had made her uncomfortable ever since she had moved in with him. Even before that, when the two of them had texted and emailed back and forth regularly, he had never said anything untoward.

Well, never mind that. Even if he didn’t tease anymore, he was just always so goofy, and—But, Fuuka had to admit, he was serious at times. Their recent discussions about Chidori proved that beyond a doubt. He was mature too, doing well with his job, always paying his half of the rent on time, and doing the chores delegated to him quickly and without complaint.

Okay, so maybe Junpei wouldn’t be as bad of a boyfriend as Fuuka thought. That still didn’t mean she liked him! She bent her legs, knees up in the air while her feet pressed into the couch. She threaded her fingers over her chest as she thought about what it’d be like if Junpei had a girlfriend.

He’d probably bring her home once in awhile, so Fuuka would have to get used to another person in the apartment. Maybe he’d even stay at her place, so Fuuka would be alone for a few nights a week. Well, she’d just have to get used to sleeping in an empty apartment. At least if she knew where Junpei was, she wouldn’t be stuck up worrying about him.

But would Junpei even tell her when he was visiting his girlfriend? It wouldn’t be Fuuka’s business any more than Junpei’s current late night destinations were, so what would give her the right to ask Junpei for any warnings of his absence?

Okay, well, that went right back to Fuuka having to get used to it. There was nothing else for it. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable squirm.

Enough of that, though. She decided to focus on what would happen when this girlfriend would spend time at the apartment. Would Fuuka be allowed to spend time with them? It would be strange either way, she supposed. She had grown so used to the dynamic of living with Junpei and no one else that adding a third person to the mix would surely throw everything off.

She pictured Junpei, curling up on the very couch Fuuka was currently sprawled across, with a girl who Fuuka inexplicably pictured having a face identical to Yukari’s. Shuddering a bit at that picture, Fuuka tried to focus on Junpei himself.

The picture felt wrong. Junpei cuddling, hugging, kissing this Yukari hybrid in Fuuka’s mind…Would Junpei bring her to his room? Would she stay the night? The walls were thin here. Often, Fuuka could hear Junpei playing music from his room, even when it was only being streamed through poor quality laptop speakers. It was obvious she’d be able to hear any louder activities Junpei may choose to take part in with his theoretical girlfriend.

Fuuka sat up straight, hand over her mouth. A wave of dizziness came over her and her eyes widened.

Just the thought of Junpei doing these things with Yukari-clone was making Fuuka feel ill. She couldn’t fathom Junpei spending entire nights out of the apartment because just the thought made her mind run wild with worry for his safety.

“Oh no.”

---

“I heard you talking to Junpei yesterday.”

“Well, that’s quite a greeting! What exactly did you hear?”

“Takeba, break ends in five!” Fuuka heard a muffled voice in the background of the phone call.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be ready!” Fuuka could picture her friend rolling her eyes and waving the owner of the voice off before turning back to talk into the phone’s speaker. “We’ve gotta be quick, or the director will be on me. We got a bit behind on filming,” Yukari explained.

“Yesterday. When I was making tea,” Fuuka dove right in, the threat of Yukari leaving before she’d gotten any answers forcing her straight to the point. “You told him that he had to tell me something, and I really would like to know what you were talking about.”

“Fuuka, that’s something he really should tell you himself.”

“Is he in love with somebody? Do you know who it is?”

“…Yes, and yes.”

“Is he dating her? Is he thinking of moving out? Oh god, is he going to make me move out?” Fuuka was rambling now, not even sure how her mind had jumped directly to losing her roommate. Now that she’d thought of it, she realized it was a very real threat on top of losing Junpei to a nameless woman, and it was a lot safer taking this route of worry than confessing her unrequited crush.

“No, he’s not dating her. She has no idea he even has feelings for her, actually.”

“Takeba! Get back on set!”

“Sorry, Fuuka, gotta go. Later!”

A click sounded as Fuuka was calling for Yukari to wait, and that was that.

---

For the first time since Fuuka moved in, Junpei didn’t come home. It took three days before Fuuka became absolutely frantic.

---

“Junpei, please call me back. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but I’m sorry. You don’t have to come home if you don’t want to, but I just want to know that you’re safe. Please call when you can.”

After the third message was left on Junpei’s answering machine, Fuuka set her phone aside and pulled out her laptop, hoping to find something to distract her. She didn’t want to bombard Junpei with calls when he clearly didn’t want to talk to her, but this waiting game was destroying her.

After forty minutes of staring blankly at the news station playing on the television screen, Fuuka jumped at the tinny ring tone blaring from her cell. Yanking the phone up without even bothering to look at the number on the screen, she pressed it to her ear and yelled a quick, “Hello!”

“Fuuka, I am going to hand my phone over to Junpei, and you are going to talk him into leaving my home immediately.”

Fuuka had to stop herself from screaming in fury when she heard Akihiko’s gravelly voice from the speaker.

“I would appreciate that,” Fuuka gritted out, forcing politeness. She knew Akihiko didn’t deserve any rage from her though, which was enough motivation to keep her civil. All bets would be off once she finally got Junpei on the line.

At the timid “Hello?” that greeted her in a much flatter tone than what she expected from Junpei, all the fight drained out of her. She really was much too weak to him, she was beginning to realize.

“What have you done to make Akihiko so angry?”

“Prob’ly the same thing that’s got you so mad. Running away from everything, living in the past, forcing Akihiko to sleep on the couch so that I don’t ruin my back.”

“…You stole Akihiko’s bed.” It wasn’t even a question. “Never mind, please don’t tell me whether or not that was a joke.”

A humorless laugh echoed through the phone line. Fuuka just sighed.

“You didn’t return my calls.”

“My phone’s dead. I didn’t bring a charger, and Akihiko and Ken both have different models, so I couldn’t use their chargers.”

“I have been so worried, and all you say…You just look for pity. ‘Same thing that’s got me mad’? Yes, I’m mad.

“I’m mad that you keep talking so cryptically and that you’re keeping so many secrets when we’re supposed to be friends! You don’t have to tell me everything, Junpei, but I can tell something’s bothering you, and I want to help you. Please let me help you.”

“…I’ll be back tonight, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

“But Junpei—”

She was cut off by a click.

---

Junpei waltzed in at exactly 3:21 the next morning wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and dark bruises of exhaustion under his eyes. On the couch, Fuuka was curled under a thick blanket, eyes sliding out of focus as she tried to read a novel, not even bothering to look up when she heard the slam of the door.

What did finally bring her to lift her gaze was the feeling of pressure on the other side of the couch and the heavy sigh accompanying it.

She had been intending to wait until Junpei came to her with his problem. She was prepared to wait forever, and she had expected to wait at least until a decent hour of the morning, but it looked as if that was not going to be the case.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded, going back to her book. “I forgive you.”

“That easily, huh?”

“It probably wasn’t fair of me to be angry in the first place. You have every right to stay with a friend for a few days without telling me.”

“But you get worried.”

“Yes, but that shouldn’t be your concern. I don’t control you, Junpei, and as long as you keep paying your share of the rent and helping with chores around the apartment, I shouldn’t be worrying about what you do in your spare time.” Fuuka hoped the succinctness of her statement wasn’t coming off as flat or angry, but she wanted to make sure that she was clear.

“Do you want to go out to dinner? With me. Tomorrow. Or today I guess, since it’s already past midnight, but we could do tomorrow instead, I mean, we might both be a little tired later today anyway.”

Placing a finger into her book to mark her place before closing it, Fuuka looked up at Junpei with her eyebrows raised. “Of course we can go out, but is this an apology dinner? An apology really isn’t necessary.”

“No, it’s not an apology dinner, it’s a…Fuuka.”

“…Yes?”

“I think I like you.”

The blood rushed to her face so quickly that Fuuka was afraid for a moment she might black out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I wish you’d mentioned that before all this running away.”

Junpei looked down at his hands folded tightly together in his lap.

“You thought you were betraying Chidori, right?”

Nodding, Junpei stayed silent.

“What changed?”

“I don’t think anything did. I still feel like I’m giving up on Chidori, even though everyone’s been telling me that’s a stupid way to think about it.”

“So…You’re going against what you think you should?”

“Yeah. I’m tired of all of this. I’m tired of making you worry all the time. Course you can say no, too.”

“Of course.” Fuuka gave him a small smile.

“So whaddaya think?”

“Sure. I’ll go to dinner with you, but I think we also need to talk about all of this.”

“That’s fair, but I think we should probably get some sleep first.”

---

“I liked you before I even met Chidori, you know.”

The dinner had been awkward from the start, both working to make small talk, but failing when no subject seemed to catch the interest of the other. Fuuka was sure she was simply too nervous and even a bit confused to hold a “normal” conversation. She wasn’t sure if she hoped Junpei was feeling the same or not.

Once their meals arrived though, Junpei seemed more confident in saying what he wanted to, now that he was able to keep from having to answer something immediately by stuffing a forkful of food in his mouth.

“What do you mean? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Haha, seriously? You were way too good for me. You still are, but I guess I just don’t care too much about that anymore.

“Besides, I did say stuff to you.”

“The only time I can remember you saying anything remotely ‘flirty’ to me was during that beach trip, and you were saying the exact same things to Yukari and Mitsuru.”

“That was not one of my most shining moments. How about we don’t talk about the beach trip?”

“Fine, but I still don’t understand.”

“You are one of the nicest people I have ever met. You were so quiet at first, but even from the start, what you went through to awaken your persona…I never would’ve been able to forgive those bullies if it were me in your place, but not only did you forgive them, you befriended them. I know you still text that girl we rescued…Natsuki?

“The way you care about people is amazing. You were always trying to cheer everybody up, make everything better, and I can’t imagine why Natsuki and her gang ever bullied you in the first place, because how in the world someone who only ever wants to help people could become a target for that, I will never understand.”

“Thank you, but—”

“And I think I’d been falling for you ever since the moment I met you, but I knew you were too good for me. You were so kind and caring and smart, and the most I ever contributed to the team was fire-based spells, like, come on, Fuuka, you have to see how much better than me you are.”

“I don’t think we can be compared like tha—”

“And then I met Chidori, and Chidori was probably too good for me too, but she showed interest at least, and I thought I’d gotten over you. I think I really did for a time. But then you were the one who kept in contact with all of us, and you were always checking up to make sure all of us were okay.”

At Fuuka’s bewildered look, Junpei elaborated. “I know, you never asked us if we were okay, but it was obvious. Like I said, you’re the only one who made an effort to talk to us all the time. And yes, I know you were talking to the others, because Akihiko and I text pretty regularly, and I’d catch up with Yukari once in awhile too, and I’d ask them about you, because even if Chidori helped me get over you, she couldn’t help me stay over you.

“And it doesn’t help that all this time, the guilt of getting over Chidori has been unreal. I mean, I liked you first, you know? What would’ve happened if you’d shown any sort of interest toward me? I would’ve walked past Chidori that first day, and everything would’ve been different. Chidori might still be alive, or maybe the world would’ve ended if she’d been around to keep helping Strega.

“It’s all so confusing trying to decide what I should feel guilty about and what I should get over, but the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I have liked you for a very long time, and I’m confused how you never even noticed with that persona of yours. It always seemed like you knew everything about us.”

“My power wasn’t as strong back then, and I try not to use Juno anymore. It’s an invasion of privacy to use her when there are no shadows to scan,” she whispered toward her plate. Junpei seemed at a loss of what to say in response to that, just looking at her for a few moments before Fuuka chose to continue. “I…I really had no idea, Junpei, I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”

“I would…I’d be willing to try. Dating you, I mean.” Fuuka was still looking at her dinner plate, picking at her food. She knew she had feelings for Junpei, thanks to Natsuki’s prodding days ago, but after his reaction to his own feelings…She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to be with somebody who ran away without warning at the first sign of something he didn’t want to deal with.

Fuuka heard a quiet sigh from across the table. “Thank you.”

When they left the restaurant and started their walk home, Fuuka kept her head tilted back, observing the pinpricks of starlight dotting the night sky. She trusted Junpei’s tight grip on her hand to keep her from any missteps.