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There’s an ache deep in her muscles that only ever comes after difficult excursions during the Dark Hour. Yukari slaps on a few menthol adhesives onto her back, more as a ritual of familiarity for both Tartarus and archery practice, sighing in relief when the coolness spreads beneath her skin.
The past few days… stressful wouldn’t be enough to describe them. After Kirijo Takeharu was murdered before their eyes, betrayed by someone they’d trusted, there was Aigis being away, and Mitsuru—
Mitsuru.
Yukari shakes her head, trying to reach between her shoulders to stick on a patch. It was comical, pathetic if not for the magnitude of how much Yukari had grown to care about her, how a single girl could make her feel the spectrum of human emotions without even trying.
Though if the past few days have taught her anything, not holding herself back from feeling everything because of Mitsuru saved the day, even at the cost of her own tears and embarrassment.
Not that she’d ever tell Mitsuru something like that. Or maybe she would, to honor their promise or whatever.
Her body complains against every attempt to stick on a few patches between her shoulders, and Yukari is just about to give up when there’s a few tentative knocks on the door, one she doesn’t entirely recognize.
“Give me a minute!” She calls out, shrugging one of her varsity shirts on.
“It’s me,” Mitsuru says on the other end. Yukari feels her stomach turn, but not unpleasantly, and she pulls down her shirt to open the door,
“Hey, I didn’t recognize your knock,” she says as a means of greeting. Mitsuru stands in front of her, dressed down but not ready for bed, though just a little vulnerable and still absurdly pretty.
Mitsuru laughs, and today it meets her eyes. Something about her seems open, unguarded, and in hindsight Yukari can see why people have been noticing Mitsuru was getting soft. “I apologize. I feel as if every time I knock, there’s an emergency,” she says. “I wanted to see you before the day ends, but I didn’t know if you were in the mood to talk, after everything I put you through.”
Lately, Mitsuru’s been sporting this whole sad, wet dog aura that’s been driving Yukari crazy. But to see it now, because of her—well, it’s endearing in a way she can’t explain. Still, Yukari decides to put her out of her misery. “Don’t be ridiculous. Come right in.”
“Excuse the mess,” Yukari says, clearing some of the plastic packets of the menthol adhesives scattered on her bed. “Was in the middle of my SEES operation or archery ritual.”
Mitsuru inspects the box that lay on the side table, intrigued. “This is for body pain, correct?” When Yukari nods in affirmation, Mitsuru looks up at her, worried. “Are you injured? I can call for the family medics. They should be able to make it here in no time.”
She looks just about ready to whip out her phone and bark out orders to provide emergency care, so Yukari is quick to stop her. “S-senpai, it’s really fine. Just a little sore. Nothing to write home about.” She turns around and pulls her shirt a little to show a part of her back, with the white patches on her skin. “See?”
Yukari hears a sharp inhale from Mitsuru, and she turns around to see flushed cheeks and averted eyes.
“Sorry, it looks worse than it does, but I feel cool as a cucumber.” Wrinkling her nose, Yukari takes the patch she can’t seem to stick on. “I’m not done though, and there’s a spot I can’t reach and it’s driving me nuts.”
That piques Mitsuru’s attention, eyes alert, standing tall like an eager dog would. “Let me help you.” It’s Yukari’s turn to blush as Mitsuru takes the box from her hands. “I’ve been a thorn to your side these past few days. Please, Yukari, it’s the least I can do.”
Yukari prides herself to be one of the few people who could stand up to Mitsuru, but today—the high of the past few days and the battle, and Mitsuru standing in front of her as if she would die if Yukari said no… the guilt must be catching up to her more than it usually does, and Yukari thinks she’s starting to understand Mitsuru a little bit more.
Today, she raises the white flag. Yukari sits on the bed, her back turned to Mitsuru, exhaling softly when she pulls her shirt above her head to hold it against her chest. The chill of the patches and the thought that Mitsuru can see her half-naked makes a shiver run up and down her spine.
For a few, restless moments Mitsuru is completely still so Yukari looks over her shoulder to see her rooted in place, the patch still in her hand and her face as red as her hair.
“S-senpai? You okay?” She asks, as if her heart isn’t beating a mile a minute and about to kill her. “Just peel it off and stick some of ‘em on my spine and shoulders, please.”
“R-right,” Mitsuru says, her voice breaking in the middle. “Right. Um. Allow me.”
Yukari clutches the shirt against her front, her body tight like a drawstring—she’s been half-dressed around Archery teammates before, but this was Mitsuru who seemed to be just as shy about this as she is, and nothing could ever be so simple around her.
“You… you have a nicely sculpted back.” Mitsuru says, trying hard to be casual about it, then clears her throat. “It must be all the bow use, in and out of Tartarus.”
Yukari snorts, but she flushes, pleased. At first she’d been conscious of the defined muscles of her back, but she’d long come to terms that it was a result of her hard work and a testament of what her body could do. And if it makes Mitsuru compliment her shyly like that, she’ll take it. “Thanks. It comes in handy when opening jars for Ken and Fuuka. Sometimes Junpei.”
They fall into an almost comfortable silence, and Yukari almost falls asleep with the gentle ministrations she knew Mitsuru was capable of, until the other girl murmurs: “Yukari, I owe you an apology.” She clears her throat as if preparing a speech, as if she’d been planning and rehearsing it multiple times over. “I feel as if I’m always saying sorry for something I’ve done to you. I’m—it’s not an excuse, but it’s hard for me to allow myself to be cared for. And despite rejecting it against my will, you still did.”
Yukari almost turns around until she remembers her state of undress, so she shrugs her shirt back on and faces Mitsuru, who averts her eyes and maintains the blush. “I’ve made you worry, and beyond that, I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care for you or our friends when that can’t be further from the truth.” She sighs, wringing her fingers together. “After I’ve made you feel worse about everything, you came to save me.”
That last statement hangs above them, and Yukari remembers the abject horror realizing what Mitsuru was about to do. She knew, then, what she needed to do, and it had allowed them all a safe return back to the dorm.
She crosses her pinky over Mitsuru’s shyly, then more surely when Mitsuru reciprocates, locking their fingers together.
“You know,” Yukari decides to break the silence that fills the air. “Even if you made me cry a bajillion times this week, you being a thorn to my side isn’t true.”
Mitsuru huffs out a laugh, but there’s no mirth in it. “You say you could never understand what goes on in my mind, but I’d like to say the same.” This time, she takes Yukari’s hand in hers, her weapon-worn fingertips sliding against her own. Mitsuru watches her, confused but intense, and Yukari doesn’t stand a chance. “How can you forgive me for putting you through all of that? And the fact I can do it again without knowing it?”
Did Yukari really have to spell it out for her? She supposes she has no choice, no matter how embarrassing it will be to admit any of it. It will be worth it. “When you asked me to stand with you until the end, what did that mean for you?”
Mitsuru raises a brow, but she answers regardless. “That we would fight Nyx together, and that we would not take the death of the world lying down.” She falters a bit, downtrodden. “Have… have you changed your mind?”
Shaking her head, Yukari squeezes the hand in hers reassuringly. It was always surprising that someone of Mitsuru’s status had rough hands, but it’s easy to remember that while Mitsuru has never held a pot or a broom in her life, she had been burdened to carry unimaginable power at such an early age. “That’s what it means to me, too, but…” Yukari looks away, embarrassed. “It also means staying when the going gets rough. It means being there when you need help, even if you don’t think you need or want it.”
Mitsuru brows furrow, as if Yukari’s answer baffled her. Earlier, during the battle, she’d told Mitsuru that no one would hold it against her to ask for help, but it seems they’ll need to keep working on that. Yukari is more than happy to do so. “Say, if something bad ever happened to me, what would you do? Would you leave me on my own?”
“Absolutely not!” Mitsuru says, distraught, then she realizes. “Oh. I see your point.”
At this moment, they’re pressed so close together that it takes little movement from Yukari to rest against Mitsuru’s shoulder, and little effort from Mitsuru to rest her head against hers. “Thank you, Yukari,” she says, and it’s refreshing to not hear her grovel an apology. “I know I asked you to stand with me, but I hope you understand that I’m nothing if I don’t reciprocate. Regardless of the situation, I’ll… I’ll always be in your corner. You have my word.”
Yukari laughs, feeling comfortable. Dawn starts to break outside of her window, and she curls into Mitsuru, who always smelled nice. “I hear ya,” she says, squeezing Mitsuru’s hand. “You know, people have been saying you’ve been getting softer. I didn’t really realize it until they pointed it out. I wonder why.”
“Is that so? Perhaps you’re too close to the forest to see the trees.” Mitsuru laughs, shy. “I’m told that they see it the most when I’m with you.”
Yukari wishes the ground would swallow her whole. “You… ugh. Sweettalker, as always.” She looks away, blushing. “I remember something you said when you were about to stupidly crash that heli. That whenever you felt you were getting soft, someone died. None of that was your fault, much less because you were a burden.”
“At that time, I thought crashing it to save all of you felt like a good way to absolve me of sins that I realize now were not my own, or anyone else’s except for the people who took them from me. From us.” Mitsuru exhales, relaxing. “It will take time to stop that voice in my head from forcing its way in, but I’ve stopped resisting caring about anyone because of some preconceived fear of losing them to the very things that haunt me. I think that’s why I’ve become softer, as you say I have.” She smiles, fond and happy and so unlike the past few days where she’d been sullen and closed off. “The fact that you’re here in front of me, alive, after I’ve let my walls down around you is a testament of doing away with my baseless fears.”
She pulls away her hand from Mitsuru’s to hide her flushed face, the back of her neck like a furnace at the admission. Mitsuru had a habit of proclaiming the most romantic things without knowing, and it was bad for Yukari’s heart. “You’re—ugh,” Yukari murmurs, clutching her chest as if that would make the ache go away. Maybe she’ll take Mitsuru up on that offer to call the Kirijo family medics. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Kirijo Mitsuru.”
Mitsuru doesn’t hear, but she has as much as a slight, uncharacteristic pout on her lips when Yukari pulls away. Feeling bad (and missing the warmth), she twines their fingers back together, and just like that Mitsuru seemed in better spirits again.
Like a puppy… Yukari thinks, smiling to herself. She’s too tired to tease her about it now and decides to save it for later. It’s crucial she had ammo to tease Mitsuru with, and she had more important things to ask.
She isn’t sure when exactly her feelings had started to grow from what it had been to what it is now, but Yukari’s trying to be more forward-looking. She’d suspected Mitsuru reciprocated, but with her hesitance to share her troubles, the events of the past few days, and Mitsuru’s ability to make promises that felt like wedding vows to anyone, she’d discounted the possibility.
But now…
“Hey,” she says, and Mitsuru hums. They watch the sunrise together, their hands still touching. Mitsuru traces a comforting pattern on the back of Yukari’s hand with her thumb, and it’s enough to make her feel sleepy. “When you’re in better spirits and not grieving, I wanna tell you something that’s been on my mind. Nothing serious. But, you know.”
She can hear Mitsuru smiling as she watches the sun peek shyly above the horizon. Yukari has never felt more content in her life. “I do.”