Archive of Our Own ^omega

🛸

Ten minutes had passed since the one-month anniversary of Naoto breaking up with Kanji. Yosuke wasn’t sure why he was keeping track, but he was, and it scared him.

Maybe it was because no one seemed to like each other anymore. Or maybe that was just his imagination. Maybe, too, they were simply growing up and apart.

It was Yosuke’s last year of high school. College entrance exams would be coming up next year. Half the Investigation Team would be leaving Inaba for higher learning by that spring. Tomorrow was June 22nd, and that fated future just seemed all too soon. Not to mention, it was his birthday, and all the dread of eighteen years weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Adulthood just never made sense to Yosuke. There were real standup guys that you could always count on like Souji’s uncle or some of the guys who worked in the Junes cafe. On the other hand, there were some real scumbags like Nametame. Hard to find the gray line between the black and white, and Yosuke wondered how many missteps he could take before he would fall headfirst into the dark.

Until he could figure that part out, Yosuke laid on his bed and allowed Minutes to Midnight to take him away. It was actually hours to midnight for him, seeing as he’d risen with the sun.

Not that he’d actually woken up at the crack of dawn. It just so happened that he had nodded off for a few seconds during his latest in a long line of all-nighters. He felt just as energized as ever— which was to say, he was slogging around, but he didn’t feel much like sleeping, either.

He’d been having a string of nightmares recently. Ever since Naoto broke up with Kanji, Yosuke dreamt of nothing but soft-spoken goodbyes muttered over and over solemnly to himself. Dreamt of waving away to a person who wasn’t even looking back at him. Whether it was Chie, Yukiko, Naoto, or even Souji. They would all leave him behind.

And it really shouldn’t have bothered him. It was gonna happen sooner or later. But the plague and torment as if they were being abducted by some snaking unidentified transitory object to cities of endless opportunities twisted around his stomach and squeezed hard as if it were trying to tie itself into a knot around him.

So rather than run along that platform one more time, chasing after a figment of midnight’s finest misery.

Ted didn’t say anything. Never said a word. Always laid there, dozing away. Sometimes, Yosuke found himself under one of the bear’s arms, and Ted never said a word about it.

Yosuke didn’t want to worry him. Didn’t want to worry anybody.

Sleep started to tug at his eyelids again. He needed to get out of this brain fog. Get into some real fog.

So, without waking Ted, he tiptoed across the creaky old wood and slipped out the door.

His parents were already at work but his shift wouldn’t be for a couple more hours. He was free to escape as he saw fit.

Now that the Midnight Channel Murders had ended, the streets of Inaba were safe to walk again. (Or, so it seemed. Yosuke always kept an eye peeled.)

Although the chaos had largely ended, fog still occasionally fell across Inaba as fog was apt to do in any regular weather cycle. Morning dew coated lawns and the clouds parted in recovery from the night’s downpour.

Yosuke made his way downtown, music blasting from his headphones. He considered buying earbuds once upon a time, but he appreciated the finer noise-canceling a good pair of headphones could provide.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but as long as he left the drowsiness behind, he didn’t particularly care. If his father caught him sleeping on the job again, it was latrine duty for the next foreseeable week.

The Moel Gas Station sign shone bright white amongst the fog, glaring down at Yosuke like an elder god heretofore untouched by the disturbances they had faced earlier in the year. Yosuke often wondered how many people the gas station had seen drive into its lot for a quick fill only to drive away into that cold night, never to touch Inaba again. Only a pit stop. Inaba was only ever a pit stop.

He hoped.

But it was hard to get excited about leaving Inaba when the direction he was going could never be the same as the others.

As far as Yosuke knew, Chie was gunning for a job in SEES (he never could remember what that stood for). Yukiko told her parents she would go to Tokyo for business, but everyone who was anyone knew she was planning on running away with Chie to join SEES (seriously what did that stand for). And as for Souji… who knew what was going on in that muted gray mop top of his? (Yosuke tried but… no luck.)

Their younger cohorts already had their lives written out for them. After high school, Rise planned on continuing her career and coming back every now and then to help with the tofu shop (call him pessimistic, but Yosuke didn’t believe that last part.) Kanji wanted to inherit Tatsumi Textiles (pretty believable unless Kanji somehow started some House of Tatsumi clothing line any time soon). And Naoto?

Well, Naoto had his life carved out for him before he was even a thought. Before his father was a thought. Before his grandfather was a thought. So on. And so forth.

Since the very inception of the family name, every Shirogane was destined to become a great detective, and god rest their soul if they decided they just wanted to work a hot dog cart in downtown Shibuya.

Yosuke envied Naoto in a way. Naoto had it all figured out. Or at least, his family had it figured out for him. The rest of the Investigation Team was flying by the seat of the pants with only vague ideas of what they wanted to do. That future was still fairly foggy for them. Yosuke most of all. Shit, he didn’t even have a major in mind.

Regardless of his future, in his present he was still staring at the Moel Gas Station sign like a moth trapped in the light by fixation, scraunchy electric guitar and heavy bass screaming and pounding in his ears as if the instruments were trapped in a house on fire.

Yosuke closed his eyes, slow. Opened. He wasn’t sure when his chest had become so tight. He flipped his hood up and walked away.

As the current song faded out, Yosuke suddenly became aware of the sound of his own breathing. A distant revving of an engine could be heard somewhere far off.

In the ensuing static, Yosuke realized he’d reached the end of the album. He stopped in the middle of the street to change his audio agenda to a playlist. Just a bit of Bowie to slack his shoulders. He couldn’t parse all of the lyrics, but he liked how “far out” it was. Whatever that meant.

Synthesizer hovered around his head, spinning in circles with a buzz unlike any other. A haunting voice swept him further into the fog. He continued his stride.

A buzz in his back pocket put an end to it just as soon as he’d started. He fished out his cellphone and flipped it.

UNKNOWN: TURN AROUND.

Yosuke threw his head back with a perplexed scowl.

You: Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming around?

UNKNOWN: WHAT. TURN AROUND, SENPAI.

You: Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears :(

UNKNOWN: TURN AROUND!!!

You: Every now and then, I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by >o

UNKNOWN: TURN. AROUND. DO NOT REPLY THIS TIME. I MEAN IT.

Oh well. He had his fun.

When he turned around, he found himself blinded by a headlight and was sent stumbling backwards. He squinted over his hand, grimacing in his attempt to distinguish any sort of figure above the light.

He circled the light and finally found Naoto perched upon his motorcycle like a dove atop a shrine. His sweet, sardonic savior from his dull streetwalk.

Yosuke pulled his headphones down, Bowie be damned. A breathless laugh escaped his lips. He was more than relieved to know the “Unknown” number wasn’t the mark of a serial killer, but of his own forgetfulness in putting names in his phone.

“Geez, Naoto, whaddya doin’ over here this early?” Yosuke asked.

Naoto raised a brow. “I could very well ask the same of you, Yosuke-senpai.”

“Wouldja believe me if I said I was sleepwalking?” Yosuke shrugged sheepishly with a cock-eyed grin.

“Mm.” Naoto looked him up and down. “And are you sleepwalking now?”

“Yep. And sleeptalking. Double whammy. I’m a jack of all sleepy trades.” Yosuke started a spin and ended up stumbling like a drunk on New Years. He caught himself without even a smidge of grace. He shook his head. “Uh, anyway, what’s up with you?”

“Just filled my bike at Moel. I’m going out of town tomorrow,” Naoto answered succinctly.

“Oh.” Yosuke’s heart fell. He didn’t expect Naoto to remember his birthday, but he’d secretly hoped the Investigation Team might have been planning something for it. Given his family job, Naoto probably did have business out of Inaba. He was always getting called out for some mission or other.

“Senpai?”

“Sorry,” Yosuke murmured, staring through Naoto.

“You looked lost in thought.”

Still was. “Yeah. It’s just my, uh… birthday… is tomorrow.”

“Are you planning anything?” Naoto asked rather stiffly, as if it were a cordiality, nothing more.

“No. No… I just have work, I guess,” Yosuke said, pushing a hand up through his bangs in anticipation of the stress.

“I see.” Naoto stared at him with unyielding eyes. Until, finally, “I’m hiking up Yasogami Mountain and would like to have a partner to walk me. Would you be interested?”

Yosuke’s heart did leaps in his chest. A chance to hang out plus a hike? Count him the fuck in!

“Yeah, sure. I’m not doin’ nothin’. What time?” he asked, casually, to try and hide his excitement.

“I plan to be out from approximately seven p-m to midnight. Would you be interested?” Naoto repeated. He sure didn’t like to be, well, unsure of anything.

“Yeah, dude! I get off work at six-thirty! Now, let’s see… where would be best to meet?” Yosuke tapped his chin, gazing mountain-ward.

“I will pick you up from work in my grandfather’s station wagon,” Naoto more-so informed than offered.

“Figures you’d have your license,” Yosuke muttered, giving the ground a flimsy kick. Then, he gave it more thought and jumped back in surprise. “Wait! Hold on! You’re only seventeen!” Barely old enough to be a dancing queen!

Naoto scratched the bridge of his nose. “Special case. I work for the government on occasion, and they saw fit to allow me the license.”

“Guess it makes sense,” Yosuke yawned. He gave a minimal effort stretch and bounced on his feet. Daytime drowsiness was starting to hit hard. “D’ya think I could possibly crash at your place actually? If Dad puts me on latrine duty today, well… falling in a bathroom stall isn’t exactly the best look for me.”

“Sorry, Senpai. I need you at Junes today. You’ll see,” Naoto said and… oh god. Was that an attempt at a wink? He didn’t do anything with his eyes, but the edge of his lips quirked up.

“Nao’, we’re gonna have to work on your winking,” Yosuke said.

“My winking is perfectly fine. See?” Naoto continued to do the same, non-winking motions.

“No… that’s— uh, that’s really bad, dude,” Yosuke chuckled.

“I beg to differ,” Naoto huffed. “But in any case, I suppose I will be seeing you later. Take care, Senpai.” He kicked his bike stand back up and revved his engine, taking off and coloring the fog black with motorcycle fumes.

Way to rage quit a conversation. Yosuke coughed a bit before laughing to himself. He waved goodbye to a speeding Naoto. Once that blue hair disappeared into the fog, Yosuke slipped his headphones back on and fell away into the stars.

“You too, Nao,” he said, softly into his shirt.

🛸

Five hours later and Yosuke was still fighting the mages of slumber. Thankfully he’d been winning every time his father had passed his register, but the battle was far from over.

A nagging drumbeat kept tapping his skull interrupted only by the occasional chug of a guitar, keeping him in the world, but it felt like a delirium hung over him, washing away all feeling and thought into some subspace he wasn’t exactly consciously aware of.

Sometimes he felt as if he were walking through the world of an MC Escher painting— up the stairs, down the stairs, across the stairs, oops he fell down onto more stairs, oh well, just keep climbing the stairs again, up and up down and down, he was Sisyphus and Sisyphus never quit his day job, monotonous as it was.

Must be nice, Yosuke thought, to get the variety and spice of life that working a non-retail job could provide. Naoto was lucky, so so lucky.

Yosuke wondered just how many people Naoto had met, how many lives he’d affected. Must have been nice, and it felt nice too, that Naoto still chose to quarter in Inaba as much as he could.

And it felt really nice to be included in Naoto’s busy, busy life. If Yosuke was just scooting along on his bike down a country road, then Naoto took the freeway, deftly maneuvering in and out of crowded traffic, weaving between car and motorbike alike, no doubt a big smile on his face as he drove across the highway of life.

Yosuke rested his chin in his palm, elbow on the conveyor belt. Sure must have been nice being Prince Detective. Being Prince of Junes sure didn’t get you anywhere.

But putting your weight on the conveyor belt sure did, and Yosuke found himself flung leftward, wind swept from beneath his sails.

He slipped his headphones down and began ringing up the items as they moved past him.

Two big backpacks. Ok. Two headlamps. Ok. Two-way radios. Cool. Electromagnetic pulse detector. Fine. Telescope. They sold these? An expensive camera made especially for night time. Now hold on a minute. Binoculars? Two watches? Tapes and cassette player? Come on.

Yosuke knew exactly what this was about now. He side-eyed the customer.

“Guess I shoulda figured we weren’t just going for a regular old walk in the woods.” Yosuke smirked.

Naoto pulled his hat down toward his brow. “Does that disappoint you?” his voice became a hush.

“‘Course not,” Yosuke smiled with his head down as he answered, and he left the “I’d do anything to hang out with you” part left unsaid because it would’ve been weird, otherwise.

“This is, obviously, all for a case I’ve been working on. Mayor Hitachi-san has asked me personally to investigate the disappearance of the cows in Inaba. Apparently, one of our bigger farms has been trying to cover it up in a vain effort to try and find the missing herd themselves before word got out, but to no avail. Now, since beef is our main export, heads in city council are starting to turn. Mayor Hitachi-san, well,” Naoto snickered, “he thinks it’s—“

“Aliens?” Yosuke suggested, to which Naoto nodded. “Yeah, probably is,” Yosuke said nonchalantly, and sent a pack of flashlights through the scanner.

Naoto threw his head back in shock. “You believe in aliens?”

“Sure, why not? There’s gotta be something out there,” Yosuke reasoned.

“While I cannot say for certain that there aren’t any other life forms in the vast reaches of space, one must wonder why in the world they would want anything to do with us, much less our cows. Cow disappearances are always exaggerated in an economic panic. It is simply more likely that these cows have wandered away from their pasture,” Naoto explained.

“Sure. But it could also be aliens.”

“And what, exactly, do you think they want with our cows?” Naoto squinted.

Yosuke hummed. “Why do we dissect frogs instead of other human beings?”

“We do dissect cadavers, Yosuke-senpai, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“‘Haven’t.” Yosuke rubbed his chin and looked to the phosphorescents. “But you know they abduct humans, too.”

“I refuse to believe that. All of those cases are usually explained by some hallucination, drug-induced or otherwise, perhaps a fainting experience, or the so-called victims are just lying for attention. I’d say too, a lot of it is all-nighters and self-inflicted delirium,” Naoto theorized.

Ouch. Way to see right through him. Yosuke tried not to let on and furrowed his brow. “If you don’t believe these stories, why buy all this?”

“To placate Mayor Hitachi-san,” Naoto said simply. “I’m actually using the money of Yasoinaba herself. Speaking of, what’s my total?”

A chuckle escaped Yosuke’s lips. He’d been trying to make sure it was right for a while now, but… yeah. It really was that much.

“You might wanna read it for yourself,” he said.

Naoto leaned forward and squinted at the small display. The Midnight Channel had tweaked all of their visions just the slightest bit. Reading glasses were now a necessity, but Yukiko was the only one who ever wore them, and only to appease her worried parents.

“Oh my. I suppose that’s the price you pay for buying into the great extraterrestrial myth,” Naoto sighed, whipping out his wallet.

“Literally,” Yosuke snarked.

He smiled at something far off in the distance, intangible. He only snapped out of this trance when Naoto handed him a card. He swiped it through and handed it back to the detective.

“Looking forward to working with you tonight, Yosuke-senpai,” Naoto bowed his head slightly.

“Aw come on, Nao’. You don’t have to be so formal. Y’really don’t have to keep calling me ‘Senpai’ either. Just Yosuke’s fine.”

“On our mission, for recording purposes, it will be ‘Hanamura.’ I expect you to address me the same.”

“Ok, Hanamura,” Yosuke quipped.

Naoto went wide-eyed, mouth falling open. “W— wait! No! That’s not what I—! This isn’t that kind of mission—! I—“

“Yeah yeah, I got it, don’t worry. Just pulling your leg.” Yosuke waved a hand down.

“S— sorry,” Naoto mumbled down at his feet, pulling his cap down to hide his embarrassment. Man, he was cute when he was flustered.

A wonky smile snaked up Yosuke’s face. Oh god. Why did he think that just now? Naoto? Cute? Man, Kanji’d kill him. But then again, Kanji and Naoto weren’t… not anymore… and…

Yosuke closed his eyes so hard he began seeing phosphenes. When he opened them again, Naoto had finished loading his bags into his buggy.

“You need help pushing that?” Yosuke asked before thinking. Of fucking course not, dumbass.

“Um.” Naoto actually gave the buggy a once-over for some reason before answering with a somewhat hesitant “no.”

“Ok. Be safe going home!” Yosuke beamed.

A pleasant smile perked Naoto’s face at that. “Thank you, I will. You be… uh… safe too… um… Yosuke-s— uh. Yosuke. Yosuke…” Naoto stammered, clearly unfamiliar with the notion of leaving honorifics off of names. It was cute. And this time Yosuke allowed himself that. It was just cute, period.

Cute, cute, cute. Yosuke wanted to just pinch Naoto’s cheeks sometimes. It’d be so funny to watch him get all flustered and stammery again and maybe even try to smack him away, but all in good fun, y’know. Yosuke tried not to spark an obvious smile, but oh well. Naoto was long gone beyond those automatic doors.

He waved goodbye to Naoto again, in his head, wishing him safe travels. The backroads of Inaba weren’t very fun on a bike, much less a bigger vehicle like a station wagon. All one-lanes and shit. Who ever thought that was a good idea?

Weirdly enough, Yosuke found his stomach in knots thinking about Naoto having an accident. He knew Naoto was smart. He could avoid trouble when he had to. He was a stubborn little prick when it came to getting knocked down and standing right back up. Yosuke’d seen as much in the Midnight Channel.

Still.

Right now more than ever, Yosuke found his thoughts tracing back to Naoto. Whether it was envy, concern, or wishful thinking, Naoto was occupying the thoughts left vacant by the neighboring instruments. Was it simply that they had plans tonight? Or was Yosuke’s brain doing that thing where, now that Naoto was suddenly available, he was trying to convince himself that should the opportunity arise, well…

Maybe Yosuke just needed some sleep.

And just when Yosuke thought it was safe to go back into his five second nod-off regimen, he spotted a certain blonde out of the corner of his eye… a certain blonde who was supposed to be handing out Junes Café samplers.

They locked eyes, and the blonde made a run for it. Yosuke dashed out from the register and caught up to him without problem, snagging him with a gentle tug on his sleeve. Keeping up with him was like keeping up with a little kid sometimes. At least he was in his Junes uniform.

“Hey, Ted? Whaddya doin’ outside your suit?” Yosuke put his hands on his hips to be just a hint more managerial. “You know it’s Free Samples Friday.”

Ted barely registered any show of authority ever, much less now. “Well, you see, I was giving out free samples when I just so happened to notice some bear-y bodacious babes walk by and I, of course, could not be inhibited by that stinky old suit if I were to hit on them! Soooo, I approached the new kid and asked him to do the free samples!” he said with a bounce.

“What?” Yosuke did a double-take, searching for a sign of a bear anywhere nearby. “Hirayami-kun’s supposed to be on stocking duty!” He threw his hands up and let them fall at his sides, exasperated. “And you’re just hanging around doing nothing!” He put his hands at the side of his head and turned his back to the blonde and walked a short distance before quickly turning back around. “My god, Ted, what’re you gonna do if Dad sees you slacking off?”

Ted twirled to and fro lackadaisically. “I’ll just say I was helping you!”

“And what exactly are you gonna do when I’m gone?” Yosuke sighed, pinching his brow.

“Hmm I… dunno… guess I might pester Nao-kun.” Ted hummed, pushing himself up on his toes.

“Why Naoto?” (and why did that come out rougher than expected?)

“Because Rise-chan’s always busy with something,” Ted said, swaying with his hands behind his back, “and, I think Kan-chan’s gonna be in his Nao-Funk well into next year.”

“Really? He’s got it that bad? It’s already been a month…” Yosuke crossed his arms and gave the ground an askew glance.

“But they were together for a year. And it was all so sudden… That’s gotta hurt a man…” Ted furrowed his brow, suddenly despondent.

“Guess you’re right.” Yosuke shook his head. “Man. I wonder what Naoto’s cup of tea is if not Kanji…”

Ted’s brows immediately shot up. “And why does Yosuke want to know?”

Yosuke scrunched his face up in annoyance. “Oh shut up! I’m just thinking out loud. They were together for a whole year like you said!”

“Well, Teddie thinks Nao-kun’s faaaavorite blend is a subtle beargamot blend with a hint of honey!” Ted jumped with his arms out.

Yosuke grimaced. “Not a chance, Ted.” He scratched at his temple. “It’s… uh. Chamomile, actually.”

“Has Yosuke been paying attention to what Nao-kun liiiiikes?” Ted teased, head down and smile all-knowing.

“No way, fur-brain!” Yosuke shouted, sweeping an arm out. “I just so happen to ring up his groceries every now and then, y’know?”

Ted nodded quickly. “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm! Just like today! Teddie watched the whoooole conversation. You had stars in your ey~es!” he sing-songed.

“Ok, well guess what, Ted? This conversation is over.” He pointed firmly in the direction of the café. “Go get Hirayami-kun out of your suit and get back to work.”

“Argh! You’re so touchy anymore! Out of touch! Out of touch!” he caterwauled.

“Shut it you little dumpweed!” Yosuke bent down to his level to put his hand over his mouth.

It only followed suit that Ted would bite the hand that fed him and run off.

Ugh. What a kid.

🛸

Sunset on the boulevard already, and Naoto ran a little behind. The Junes was nowhere near empty, and he was starting to feel a little awkward standing outside the automatic doors, just waiting around.

At least he had his iPod. A little American country to set his mind on adventure felt appropriate.

Yosuke combed a hand through the back of his hair. He needed a haircut. Starting to get a little shaggy. Maybe not too short. Just something ear-length maybe.

A slap on the shoulder knocked him out of his motion. He scrambled to get his headphones around his neck.

“Y’okay, kiddo?” came a not-so concerned voice. More nosy, seemed like. Just one of those cops that always hung around the Junes. The smiley one. Always so smiley.

“‘M fine,” Yosuke muttered, hunching into himself.

“Hey.” Relax. “That Shirogane kid’s been yappin’ about you all day at the precinct. You two’re going on a, uh, hike, right?” Smile smile.

Yosuke flipped his hood up and shoved his hands in his pocket. “More important than that,” he mumbled at the ground.

“Well, Shirogane’s got a badge, but you don’t have jurisdiction. Remember that,” the cop punctuated his warning with a couple slaps on the shoulder.

The cop gave a two fingered salute as he walked off toward a beat up old Camry. Yosuke sneered after him. What a fuckin’ asshole.

“Smiley bitch,” Yosuke hissed.

He threw his headphones back on and hurriedly scrolled through his playlists. Where the hell was Rage Against the Machine when you needed them?

A screech snatched his attention from the tiny iPod screen. A station wagon and that cop’s Camry nearly collided in the Junes entrance. Both had come to a complete standstill, and the skid marks were fresh enough for Yosuke to have to get out of here before his Dad made him clean ‘em up.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going! Aren’t you a little young for a license?” the cop screamed out of his window at the station wagon that squealed away further into the lot.

The station wagon was coming straight up the lot as if it were going right into the store through the automatic doors, and more importantly, through Yosuke!

Squealing tires overpowered any rage the machine could possibly make. Yosuke found himself paralyzed like the proverbial deer in headlights. It just kept coming and coming until his head hit the

pavement.

He could only wonder how he hadn’t died when the front bumper tapped him. Didn’t even have a chance to blink.

He pulled himself up and steadied himself on the hood of the car. Everything was double. A click of a buckle. Door being thrust open. Blue coming at him.

“Yosuke-senpai, are you okay?” Ruffle of clothes as someone put their arm around him, guiding him somewhere hopefully less spinny. Smelled like Naoto’s dumb stupid big mansion.

“Yeah. Yeah ‘m fine,” Yosuke muttered. He got the vague impression he was being ushered into a passenger seat.

Doors closing. Yosuke shook his head. He brought his headphones from around his neck to examine them. He focused his sight on the logo. Ok. Ok. He was ok. His headphones were still intact. The machine was still raging. He turned it off for now.

“Put your seatbelt on, please.”

“Sure thing.” Yosuke could follow directions he was great at following directions. Awesome directions follower, he was. Really good at it. Actually. “Hey. What the fuck just happened?”

“I hit you with my car,” the driver cringed. They pulled their hat down over their eyes.

Oh. That was Naoto. Yosuke managed a dopey smile.

“Hey, ‘s ok. I didn’t need those organs.” Yosuke patted Naoto’s shoulder probably a little too firmly, but everything felt really light-bodied right now.

“Are you buckled?”

Oh. Just a quick glance to his abdomen and. No he wasn’t. In his defense, he was a bad direction follower. Just real shit at it.

One click and the deal was sealed. He was confirmed strapped into the death machine. The mortician slash part-time chauffeur driving Yosuke’s personal hearse seemed pleased at this.

“Ready?”

Yosuke looked at Naoto and shook his head vigorously to a near-comedic degree. Naoto frowned and threw the gear shift back. He peeked over his shoulder for a second and gunned the reverse.

Squealing tires were going to haunt Yosuke for the rest of his life. The immense g-force generated by Naoto’s maneuver pressed Yosuke back into his seat, then slung him around like a carnival ride when Naoto slapped the gear shift back into drive. Yosuke prayed to the Donut God that he would never eat another donut for the rest of his life just please god, please Donut God do not let Naoto do another donut with him in the car please.

Somehow it was smooth sailing after that. Thank god for the straight, wide roads of central Inaba.

“Mount Yasogami is approximately twenty-four kilometers away. I’ll make use of this time with a debriefing,” Naoto said, focusing on the road with a meter-long stare.

“Ok. You don’t gotta make it sound all official, Nao’. ‘S just me,” Yosuke implored.

“We have been asked to investigate the disappearance of cows from Kujikawa Farm which was reported at eight-twenty two p-m this Tuesday via an emergency call by the farm owner, Kai Kujikawa, who claims to have witnessed extraterrestrial activity,” Naoto explained.

“What kinda extra-terrerer-whatever activity?” Yosuke stumbled. Fuck. He was going to get a bad grade in receiving a debriefing. Which was a perfectly normal thing to have and be worried about.

“Abduction via tractor beam. Kujikawa reported seeing the cows ‘float up in the air like they were dust bunnies being sucked into a vacuum.’ He said the ship zoomed in like a shooting star and zipped right back out. I find it extremely hard to believe.”

“I can summon a six-meter tall frog-man, and you have a little moth guy, and we use these Personas of various shapes and sizes to fight shadow monsters and the manifestations of our own shadows.” Yosuke crossed his arms. “But no. An alien? That’s too out there for you?”

“There’s proof of the power of Persona. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Naoto insisted.

“So if you saw an alien, you would believe it?”

“I would have to have absolute irrefutable proof, but yes.”

“And what would that be?”

“It would have to be entirely hoax-proof. Medical evidence would be best, possibly forensic for any alien traces.” Naoto took a hand off the wheel to gesture. “I would just have to see it.”

Yosuke tried to pretend he wasn’t just cowering in fear when Naoto did that motion. “Okayyyy… well, I hope we get to see them.” He peered up at the grab bar and relinquished his grip, returning his hands to his hoodie pocket.

“Are you familiar with the Kujikawa Farm?” Naoto asked.

“Yeah. They do all their own processing and everything up there. Chie used to volunteer. Thought she’d make a good butcher.” Yosuke shrugged. “Only took one time for a cow to eat out of her hands, and she decided she couldn’t do it. She was a farmhand for a little bit, but she was afraid of turning vegan, so she quit right before her second paycheck.”

Naoto allowed himself a quick snicker but quickly went back into neutral. “Hard to imagine a Chie-senpai that would have stuck to her guns and became a, uh, cowgirl, as it were.”

“I’m just picturing Chie riding into town on a horse and a herd of cattle behind her to protest Souzai Daigaku and the steak croquettes,” Yosuke chuckled and shook his head.

“At any rate, that wasn’t the connection I had expected you to make. Marukyu-chan, who runs the tofu shop with Rise-chan, used to be married to Kai Kujikawa,” Naoto said.

“Yeah, I think I knew that.” Yosuke didn’t know that.

“This already gives me reason to believe this is just a stunt for attention. He’s a single older man living by himself. What else does he have to do?” Naoto adjusted his cap. “Nothing better than making up rumors.”

“So you say. I think he’s telling the truth. Cownappings are a serious crime, Naoto. The aliens must be persecuted.”

“Prosecuted,” Naoto corrected.

Yosuke blew air. “Same difference.” His eyes fell over the dashboard and, while there wasn’t a CD player, there was a cassette player. “Hey what’s in here?”

“Yosuke-senpai, please wait—“

Their hands met at the button at the same time. Yosuke forged ahead and pressed the button, and Naoto took his back as if he’d been burned.

Silence ensued. Yosuke looked over at Naoto. Why’d he retract his hands like that. Why’d his fingertips brush the back of his hand like that. Why’d Naoto just wrinkle his nose.

A drum roll and funky beat crackled out from the car’s shittyass tinny speakers.

(hello, I love you,

won’t you tell me your name)

“Oh my god. What IS this,” Yosuke wheezed.

“My grandma’s,” Naoto said quickly.

“Is this the fuckin’ fifties?” Yosuke cackled.

“Shut up,” Naoto grumbled, bringing his cap down over his eyes.

“Hey, buddy, you still need to see there,” Yosuke sniggered, swiping Naoto’s cap up and flinging it into the back seat. He ruffled Naoto’s hair, making the detective scrunch his cute little face up.

“Why are you so touchy today?” Naoto snapped.

“Maybe because Naoto the Grouch hit me with his car, and now my brain’s all scrambled up!” Yosuke spun his fingers around his temples. He quickly rolled his eyes and leaned toward Naoto. “Maybe I’m a ghost coming back to haunt you. Or do you not believe in those, either?”

“I do not believe in the supernatural,” Naoto reaffirmed.

And normally Yosuke would take that as a natural Naoto-ism, but this one held just a bit more venom than usual.

Maybe Yosuke was being a bit much right now. How much was Kanji? Yosuke felt, personally, that he was a lot more than Kanji. And if Kanji was too much, well.

Yosuke slouched in his seat. He snuck glances at Naoto, who maintained a sour countenance. Felt heavy. Felt like too much. He was too much. He needed to be a little less. He slouched more. His knees hit his chin.

Pretty soon they were out of Inaba town limits and climbing uphill on a shit little dirt road. Would’ve been easier on the head to make the trek instead of bouncing around in this old jalopy.

At least he wasn’t alone, Yosuke reminded himself. No, he was here with Naoto, nominee for Grump of the Year 2012, and of course some old grainy voice that scratched and crooned about some house in a place Yosuke’d never heard of. Nuoorlins.

(well, there is a house)

Sure is, buddy.

Eventually, Naoto flicked his eyes over to Yosuke. “What are you doing.”

Yosuke gave his own posture the once over. “Being less.”

“What.”

“I feel like I’m too much.”

“You’re fine, Senpai.”

“Told you to stop calling me that,” Yosuke muttered into his knees. “Pretty soon we won’t even be going to school together.”

“This is news to me.” Naoto pouted. “W— why not?”

“‘M gonna go to college and stuff. Be a big man on campus.” Whatever that means.

“Oh. I understand,” Naoto said, a hint of relief present in his voice. He turned to look at Yosuke. “So, for college, where are you looking?”

“Naoto! Where are YOU looking?” Yosuke straightened up quickly, grabbing the OH SHIT bar and holding on for dear fucking life.

“Huh?” Naoto looked back at the road. Realization washed over his face all too slowly.

They went right through the wood and barbwire fencing, careening right into the pasture, spinning round and around as Naoto tried his absolute damndest to overcorrect and leaned as if he could control this fucking deathtrap like a motorbike. Son of a fucking bitch the Donut God didn’t give a shit about Yosuke and never did.

By the time they stopped, the cows had all scattered and all the lights in the farmhouse had flickered on. Yosuke leaned his head back, panting. Holy shit. They were about to get their heads ripped off.

Yosuke lolled his head toward Naoto. “Hey, you ok, Nao’?”

“I’ll be alright. My apologies, Yosuke,” Naoto muttered, slouching. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Classic Naoto shame sign. The jig was up, huh.

“Hey,” Yosuke said, voice silk soft. “Be honest with me. You don’t actually have your license, do you?”

Naoto snapped his head up. “How did you—“

“Wasn’t hard to figure out. Even if they did make a special exception for you— which I doubt they would, given your reputation— no offense— but, no one’d let you have a license driving like that. It’d be one thing if you were just a speeder, but…” Yosuke shook his head and snickered. “You’re pretty shit at steering, dude.”

“Sorry, I’m confused by your vernacular here. Are you saying I’m pretty or that I’m bad at this?” Naoto pouted.

“You’re bad. You’re really fucking bad,” Yosuke forced a laugh, mostly just to get all the butterflies out of his stomach.

But yeah. Naoto was pretty, too. Especially when he pouted like that. Big, dark blue eyes… god, Yosuke needed some sleep, like. Yesterday.

Speaking of yesterday.

(love was such an easy game to play.

now I need a place to hide away.)

Yosuke grimaced at the stereo. He looked up at Naoto, who was either completely shell-shocked or this song was putting him through the ringer. Probably the first one.

“Maybe you should turn the car off,” Yosuke suggested with a roll of his shoulders.

“Oh.” Naoto flicked the keys down and out, stuffing them in his coat pocket. The car shuddered off.

“Lights are still on,” Yosuke mentioned.

Wordlessly, Naoto flipped the lights off. Now they sat in not only relative silence aside from the whining over the cassette-waves but now in relative darkness.

Yosuke dragged a hand over his face. Sleep started to sag his shoulders again. He leaned his head back in the pretty uncomfortable leather seat.

Someone knocked at the window. Naoto rolled the window down. An impatient-looking old man hunched outside.

“Kujikawa-san?” Naoto asked.

“That would be me. Are you the boy the precinct sent?” Kujikawa asked.

“Yes, sir,” Naoto answered.

“Well, I hope you’re prepared to do some manual labor on the side. All my farmhands have gone home for the day, so you boys are all I’ve got,” Kujikawa said, pointing his gaze at Yosuke.

Yosuke raised his brows, eyes half-lidded. Yeah. That tracked.

They exited the car in a succinct manner. Yosuke furrowed his brow at Naoto who just stared back awkwardly.

“Are you planning on leaving your car inside my pasture?”

Naoto nearly jumped out of his skin. “Oh. No. Sorry, sir. Sorry.”

He quickly ducked back in the car, taking off faster than the speed of light, taking barbwire with him as he went. Eventually the car came to a halt in the middle of the dirt road.

“That’s good enough I guess,” Kujikawa sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You his partner?”

“P—Partner?” Yosuke blinked quickly. Wait. Wait, partner. Oh! Detective partner! “Uh. Yeah. Yeah that’s me. That’s what I am. Sorry about the fence, Kujikawa-san. Y’know, we’re really good friends with Rise. Actually, I’m Chie Satonaka’s best friend, if you remember her.”

“Hard worker.” Kujikawa nodded, hands on his hips. “Would’ve liked to keep her longer. I don’t exactly see Ri-chan anymore. I told her parents she was too young for that idol stuff.” He waved a hand down. “Nobody listens to me. Doubt you boys think I’m tellin’ the truth about those UFOs.”

“I believe you,” Yosuke said firmly.

“That makes one of ya.” Kujikawa turned slightly to watch Naoto (who had taken the time to collect his hat) jog over. “I’d bet Mr. Tight Britches here wouldn’t say the same.”

Yosuke squinted at Kujikawa. They had a good thing going before the name-calling. What gives? Ugh. Adults. Yosuke wondered if he could delay turning eighteen just a little bit more.

“Kujikawa-san, you reported the sighting at eight p-m. It’s currently…” Naoto brought his wrist all the way up to his eyes. “Seven forty-five p-m. If we put up the barbed wire fencing tonight, we will be delaying a possible sighting.”

“You don’t think there will be a sighting, so you might as well put up some fencing that way I don’t lose any more cows. I’m not gonna charge you or the city any money. ‘S obvious you’re just kids. Though, that makes me feel like I’m not being taken seriously.” Kujikawa scratched his head, ambling slightly away.

“Sir, with all due respect, that’s not what we–“

Kujikawa waved his hands downward. “Forget what you came down here for. You boys at the precinct don’t care about it, so why should I? You can start on that fence by grabbing some gloves and taking the wire off your car and putting it in the barn. I’ve got some chain-link fence that’ll be good enough for tonight in the barn. Headlamps are in there, too.”

“No need. We’ve got some. We’ll get it done,” Yosuke said.

Before Naoto could protest, the old man ambled back into the farmhouse. Yosuke snickered. Man. That was a lot of trust to put into two city boys. But… then again, what did the man have to lose? His cows were being swept away by a power higher than anything Inaba could hope to counter with.

Yosuke looked over his shoulder at the dirt and grass that the car brought up.

“Look, Naoto. Crop circles,” Yosuke snickered.

Naoto huffed and stomped off toward the car. Yosuke slung his head back and followed after him.

“This is so humiliating!” Naoto threw his hands up.

“You kinda got into this yourself, Mr. I Have a License Because I’m Special!” Yosuke did jazz hands, swinging his legs as he walked.

“I am special! I’m the Prince Detective!” Naoto argued, pointing furiously at himself.

Yosuke flicked his brows upward. “Well right now you’re the prince of getting some gloves and headlamps out of your little hiking bag. So stop throwing a tantrum, and let’s get to work, hm?” He ribbed Naoto gently.

Something sizzled off of Naoto as he stood at his trunk. Pure, unadulterated, seething. It was one thing to underestimate his intelligence, and it was another to demean him enough to subject him to menial work. But when you live in the backwoods of Japan, you just had to get used to doing backwoods kind of detective jobs.

He circled around to the driver’s side and popped the trunk, coming back around. Inside were two backpacks, probably very neurotically packed.

“Hm. Reminds me.” Naoto held up a white button-up stashed behind one of the backpacks. “I had meant for you to change into something more professional. I’ll give it to you tomorrow when we debrief tonight’s findings.”

Yosuke quirked his head. “I thought you were going out of town tomorrow.”

“I never said you couldn’t come with me.” Naoto flicked his brows. He delicately placed the button up back.

Yosuke dug his hands into his hoodie pocket and shuffled his feet. He kicked his toe in the dirt. “I have… work.”

“Do you?” Naoto asked quickly and raised a brow.

Yosuke swallowed thickly. He clenched his eyes and thought pretty hard about it.

“Weeell…”

“Just so you know, if you come to the Shirogane Mansion at precisely six in the morning with a bag packed for a week, I will be taking that as a ‘no.’” Naoto turned his head slowly toward Yosuke, brow still quirked yet a serious look fixed on his face.

Despite the clear invitation, Yosuke just wanted to hear Naoto say for sure that he wanted Yosuke to come with him. He just wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it. Because, for all intents and purposes, if he could start working with Naoto, he didn’t have to go to college. Didn’t have to leave. He’d be eighteen and an adult tomorrow, but he wouldn’t be a scumbag. He couldn’t be if he was with Naoto. Naoto’d keep him on the straight and narrow.

Yosuke allowed his gaze to fall down on Naoto, who was rummaging through the packs for leather gloves and headlamps. His furrowed brow. The slight frown. Just too cute. How could Yosuke leave that behind?

“Here, Senpai—“

“Nope.”

Naoto stared up at Yosuke in disbelief. He huffed at the trunk, then looked back at Yosuke. “We don’t have all night. Take your gear so we can mend these fences.”

“Call me Yosuke, Nao’.” Yosuke winked.

Naoto rolled his whole head instead of just his eyes. “Here, Yosuke.” And he slapped the gear in Yosuke’s outward stretched palms. “Happy now?” he asked, walking to the front of the car as he donned his own.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Shirogane,” Yosuke quipped as he slipped his gloves on. With his headlamp secured, he followed closely behind.

Naoto yanked the barbwire from the bumper, letting it trail behind him as he walked back to the fencing.

“That was a Kanji move if I’ve ever seen one,” Yosuke mindlessly joked. Fuck. That was certainly his ex. That Yosuke just mentioned. Damnit. Shitfuck.

Thankfully, Naoto was silent on the matter. He just heaved the wire against the fence on the outside. He smacked his hands as if they’d gotten dirty from the wire.

“Nice throw. That barbwire didn’t know what hit it,” Yosuke laughed.

“Barbed. Wire,” Naoto gritted, stomping toward the barn.

Yosuke stopped. He looked at the wire and shrugged. Yeah, alright.

He jogged up to Naoto, ready to help him lift a roll of chain-link, but the detective just brute-lifted it. Yosuke backed out of Naoto’s way, hands up. He noticed some metal stakes and grabbed a couple.

“Where’d you get that kinda strength, Nao’?” Yosuke shouted after him.

“Helping Kanji lift shipments, sparring against him in the Midnight Channel…” Naoto shrugged even with the chain-link under his arms. “Not to mention I’m trained in quite a few styles of self-defense, including aikido.”

Naoto set the chain-link down, waiting for Yosuke to drive the stakes first. He sighed. “We’ll need some ties as well. Go ahead and unroll that.”

Yosuke nodded, doing as Naoto ordered. He got so caught up in it that he barely registered Naoto approaching him, but he could hear him softly pad on the grass. Could hear his stilled breathing. Felt his presence behind him.

Naoto had been erratic. Extremely so, since his break up with Kanji. Yosuke turned slightly, taking a hit of misery when he caught the clear glint of anguish in Naoto’s dark blue eyes.

“Nao’…” Yosuke breathed.

“Hold that there. I’m going to tie this up and then cut the remaining wire,” Naoto said, finally moving out from behind him after what seemed like an eternity.

For what it was, it was a damn good makeshift fence. Yosuke pressed his palm against it, testing its resilience. He laughed aloud, proud of their work. He gently punched Naoto’s shoulder. Naoto just shied away, a small little smile plastered on his face.

The porch light on the farmhouse flickered to life. The door opened, and out emerged Kujikawa, holding up and waving a couple glass bottles.

Yosuke ruffled the back of Naoto’s hair and pushed his hat off. Naoto fumbled for it as Yosuke plodded on. The quick pattering of footsteps told Yosuke that Naoto had quickly caught up to him. They arrived on the front porch just in time to see a beaming Kujikawa.

“I appreciate you two fixing that fence,” he started.

“Well, we broke it, so…” Yosuke bounced on his heels and looked over his shoulder absentmindedly.

“No matter. You’ve got a good hike up the pasture to where I saw the lights, so I figured I’d give you these,” Kujikawa said, handing them both bottles of milk.

Yosuke’s eyes brightened. “Oh, thanks—!“

Naoto slapped Yosuke’s hand. “Fresh?”

“No, pasteurized,” Kujikawa said, and that was enough for Yosuke to grab the bottle, uncap it, and take a swig.

Naoto gave Yosuke a careful side eye, but took the bottle anyway. He placed his free hand on his hip. “We’ll be on our way then. Any findings will be reported to the Yasoinaba Department first and foremost. We’ll let you know what we can, when we can.”

“Thank you. Let me know if you two need anything.” Kujikawa ducked away.

Naoto bowed slightly. He squinted up at Yosuke, who was too busy guzzling milk to do the same.

“You couldn’t have been that thirsty,” Naoto dead-panned.

Yosuke wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You definitely underestimate my thirst.”

🛸

“How much farther?” Yosuke groaned up at the black of night sky.

“There’s a landmark. A tree split by lightning.” Naoto squinted, headlamp turning left and right. Then, “There! Up ahead!”

Upon sighting the split tree, Yosuke ran like his life depended on it, hopping slightly from the weight of his backpack. He set it down eagerly and face planted onto the grass, relieved to get such a weight off his shoulders.

Grass rustled beside him. Yosuke lifted up his face. Naoto set his backpack down and began unpacking. On his own, he set up a telescope, a radio, and booted up a brand new camera. He took a few pictures. Surprisingly silent.

Clanking and soft grunts alerted Yosuke to the fact that they were certainly not alone out there. About five cows were moseying around the acme of the pasture, chewing cud and doing whatever else a cow did out here. As a certified city boy, Yosuke didn’t find much appeal here but at least it was different from typical Inaba.

Switching off his headlamp, Yosuke righted himself into a cross-legged position. He watched as Naoto carefully adjusted his telescope. His squint and the way he held his mouth slightly open. The intense focus. Yosuke wasn’t sure. But it probably ranked on the list of Naoto’s cutest expressions. Yosuke sighed down at the grass beneath him. It’d only been a month. Only a month. And they’d been together a year.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Yosuke came out and said.

“Come look at this,” Naoto waved Yosuke up.

Rolling his eyes, Yosuke clambered to his feet and stood above Naoto. Naoto waved him further into his space to the point where they were practically breathing on each other.

“Take a look. I’ve positioned it perfectly so you can see Mars from here,” Naoto said.

“Mars?” Yosuke threw his head back in disbelief.

Naoto nodded, stepping aside and ushering Yosuke toward the telescope.

“Little red dot. See it?”

An automatic gasp left Yosuke’s lips. “Yeah, actually!”

Damn. And there it was. A little red dot. Yosuke turned the telescope to the left, wondering what else he could see. Well. Nothing but stars he couldn’t identify.

“If you want, I could tell you about them all. It’s such a clear, perfect night,” Naoto beamed up at the sky.

Yosuke came away from the telescope slowly, a grin forming as he watched Naoto gazing up at the stars. No telescope needed, even with his shit eyesight, he could probably name every single one of those things on there by position alone. Naoto was just so goddamn smart like that.

“I’d like that.”

“Really!” Naoto threw himself against Yosuke, wrapping an arm around his waist. He pointed up and to the east. “That one’s Perseus. He’s a Greek demigod. You’ll usually find Cassiopeia in the vicinity. She’s his love interest. There’s a great story there. Our neighboring galaxy is named after her mother, Andromeda. Oh— oh and then there’s…”

Man, this was starting to feel like a date. Yosuke had to admit he was barely hanging on, but it made him feel warm and fuzzy just letting Naoto blather on about this nerd stuff. And it was funny too, just how into space he seemed to be, and yet,

“You don’t believe in aliens, though?” Yosuke smirked down at Naoto.

“Isn’t it more amazing to think we’re the only creatures in the universe who will ever get to witness this?” Naoto asked, staring up at Yosuke with bright, unwavering eyes.

Yosuke wrapped his arm around Naoto’s waist and shook him. Naoto just giggled and pushed away from him, all giddy now that he got to exposit.

“Um, I don’t know how comfortable you are eating out here, but I packed a blanket and some sandwiches, and…” Naoto suddenly became despondent. “…Yosuke?”

Oh man. When did Yosuke’s chest get so tight. Fuck. He couldn’t breathe. This really was a date. It had been a poorly disguised date this whole time. That was why Naoto was so pissed about the fence. Why he insisted on picking Yosuke up.

Oh geez. Oh god. Yosuke clenched his eyes shut and threw his headphones on. He walked a short distance away from Naoto, from the heat that was burning his chest. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! How was he supposed to look Kanji in the eye ever again knowing he just went out with his ex-boyfriend a month after they just broke up? After having been together for a year!

Shuffle. No. Shuffle again. No. Ok. Skip. Skip. Skip skip skip. Familiar strings. Stop.

(with your feet on the air and your head on the ground)

Yosuke finally turned around. “Yeah?”

“Do you like cold cuts?” Naoto asked, gingerly holding up a sandwich.

“Sure. Unwrap ‘em.” Yosuke held out a hand. “We don’t need the blanket though. I can wash this uniform.”

“You sure?” Naoto asked sheepishly.

“Yeah.” Yosuke sat back down and started noshing on his sandwich. He pointed it at the radio. “That work?” he asked, mouth full.

Naoto set his wrapped sandwich in his lap and hoisted the radio over. He flipped it on.

“It gets regular radio, calls out… has some other features you don’t need to be privy to yet. I’ve got a police scanner on it, too. Fancy any station?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

Yosuke fiddled with the controls. Thankfully, he was in AV club in middle school, and he knew exactly how to take Naoto out of romance mode.

Just a twist of the knob, grab the microphone, and,

Yosuke immediately put on his best panicked voice, leaning into the mic. “Hello?! Tokyo PD?!”

“Yosuke, no! Stop! Give me—“

“This is Inaba PD! We’ve got a great blazing fire over here, requesting backup.”

“Yosuke! Give me that!”

“R—Requesting anyone who’s anyone to help. A meteor landed yesterday. I’m seeing my men go down there and get instantly vaporized—“

“I’m serious! Hand it here!”

“—it’s almost like some sorta heat ray! We can’t get close! Please! If you can—“

“YOSUKE!”

Naoto finally managed to wrest the mic from Yosuke’s control, slamming it back down into the receiver. He huffed, out of breath. Rage glistened in his dark eyes as he slowly turned to seethe at Yosuke. He stood, and despite his small stature, he was actually extremely intimidating.

“You are an imbecile!” Naoto shouted. “Do you know how much panic and chaos you could’ve caused if I let you go on!”

Yosuke crumpled into himself. “Well, I thought it was funny—“

Naoto stomped his foot— something he’d picked up from Chie. Now Yosuke knew who he was going to for breakup advice.

“No! That wasn’t funny!” Naoto yelled. “That was just completely and totally irresponsible!”

“I’m sorry—“

“You should be,” Naoto muttered, squinting down at him.

Then, a flash of white light overtook the area. It drowned them as if they were being washed away by a hamaon.

“Get the camera! Get the camera!” Yosuke ordered, snapping his fingers and stumbling over himself.

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” Naoto whined.

Yosuke brought his hand back down from his eyes when it had cleared. And, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, that certainly was a rotating disc flying off into the distance.

“Hey… Nao’… did you see that?” Yosuke trembled.

Naoto slowly rose from a crouch. “See what?”

“That UFO!” Yosuke ran in a random direction, looked around. Ran back to Naoto. “And, hey! How many cows were here just now?”

“I counted twenty-seven,” Naoto said, turning his head in confusion as to why Yosuke asked.

Yosuke gestured outward. “How many do you count now?”

Naoto looked around in a panic. His brow furrowed. “None. There’s none here.”

“So…?” Yosuke prompted.

Naoto grimaced. “It was probably just dry lightning. Must’ve scared them off. We’ll come back tomorrow morning.”

“No, Nao’!” Yosuke protested. “That was something else! That had to be an alien! It abducted those cows!” He grabbed for Naoto’s wrist and shook it. “Look! Look, what time is it on your watch?”

“Well it’s… oh god. Five minutes ahead…” Naoto looked up at Yosuke. “B— but how?”

“I’ve heard that in the presence of a UFO, time goes all wonky! Time’ll usually skip ahead a few minutes! That’s what we’re seeing!”

“Yosuke, have you been sleeping well? I know I hit you with my car, but I mean, flying discs, experiencing a time jump… I probably just accidentally or absentmindedly fiddled with my watch,” Naoto reasoned… unreasonably.

Yosuke groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He gestured wildly around. “Then why’s the radio have the same time? That time jump scared you too! I know it did!” He pressed his finger into Naoto’s chest.

Naoto shrugged and turned to fiddle with his equipment. “Could have been set up wrong, who knows? Sometimes coincidences are just that.”

God fucking damnit, Naoto.

Yosuke threw his hands up and let them fall to his side. “Why do you want to not believe so badly?”

Naoto whipped around, backing Yosuke up as he spoke, measured— “Because I am a detective of a certain merit, and I will not allow myself to fall into black hole of speculation. Now, Yosuke, if we’re done here, I will be taking pictures and then we will leave.”

“Fine.” He jabbed a thumb at his own chest. “But I’m driving.”

🛸

The one-lane road leading to the Shirogane Mansion was easy enough to manage on a two-wheeled vehicle. Yosuke rather enjoyed the wind in his face, the breeze lifting his hair as he drove his scooter up and down the hills and around the curves.

Once on the property, he had to buzz his way in. Thankfully, the guard recognized him, and he didn’t have to stammer into the receiver anymore. He parked his scooter in the roundabout bit of pavement surrounding the large marble fountain (which certainly depicted. Something. shapes?). Then, a butler would greet him on the steps and take him inside.

It was all so fancy schmancy, and no one would suspect there could ever be something so hoity in the middle of the Inaba backwoods. And yet, here Naoto was, secluded, hidden away in such a glamorous mansion.

The butler guided Yosuke down into a small den. He left when they reached the door, bowing before slipping away to another duty. Naoto was expecting Yosuke, so his work there was done.

With a sharp inhale, Yosuke adjusted his tie. He knocked twice, heard a strained “come in!” and exhaled slowly.

He slipped his hand around the knob and twisted, pushing ahead.

The lights were off, but Yosuke could still see thanks to a projector on the back wall. He had been in here a few times, but it was even messier than before, papers strewn about, bags in chairs, books open and marked with a bunch of different colored post-its on pages upon pages. What befuddled him most of all was the street picture being displayed of a car ready to run into a woman. Yosuke considered quipping, but he knew the matter was more than likely too serious for it.

And what befuddled him even further was that there was not a single sign of Naoto.

“Uh, Nao’? I’m here. Like you said to be.” He checked his watch. It was six o’ clock sharp. No alien time jumps here.

A ruffling of papers alerted him to someone beneath the desk. Naoto. He tossed a book at Yosuke’s feet and crawled out from under the mahogany.

“Sorry. Dropped that earlier.” He dusted off his knees. “I can’t believe you came so early.”

“Believe it!” Yosuke chuckled, circling around the desk.

“And in the outfit I gave you?” Naoto watched his stride incredulously.

Yosuke twirled in his white button up, orange tie, and black slacks. “The one and only.” He fell into the leather chair behind the desk and kicked his feet up. “Now, I think you promised me a debriefing.”

Naoto looked up and sighed. He put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot. Thought for a moment, then brought his gaze back down to Yosuke with an all-knowing stare. “You know as well as I do that there’s nothing to debrief.”

“You saw it. I saw it. Aliens! It’s aliens, Nao’! Real, true blue aliens!” Yosuke leaned forward and held out his hands in exasperation.

Naoto nodded, sighed, looked down at his feet, then, stepped a little closer to Yosuke. “Listen, I, uh… I talked to Teddie.”

And all the wind was swept from Yosuke’s sails. He managed to right himself into a normal sitting position. He put his hands on the desk, staring down at them. When did they start shaking like that?

Naoto stepped closer. “He told me you haven’t been sleeping lately.”

“I didn’t think he noticed,” Yosuke said numbly, folding his fingers into fists.

Naoto stepped even closer. “I believe that the flying saucer you witnessed was simply a hallucination induced by a lack of sleep. It was dark. Could’ve been anything shaped by a delirious mind.”

Yosuke shook his head as if there was a fog over him. “But the light— the cows—“

Naoto put his knee on the desk, hands now in his suit pockets. “Flashbang most likely. No way to pin a culprit. Sorry, Yosuke-senpai. Looks like a win for the non-believers. Kujikawa understood, but said that I and my ‘partner’ did good work for him. Best we can do as is. Case is over as far as I’m concerned.” He messed some papers around with his knee, glaring down at them as if they’d disturbed him. “But that’s not what I care about. Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Why’d you break up with Kanji?” Yosuke countered.

“Don’t make this about me,” Naoto murmured, almost hurt by Yosuke’s audacity.

Yosuke knew this was a losing battle. He sighed. “Fine. I, uh… I’ve just been stressed out… about college… about everyone leaving… been having nightmares…” Yosuke shook his head. “Naoto, you have to tell me what happened.” He needed closure. Maybe then the nightmares would stop.

It took Naoto some time to gather himself, but, “We fell apart, as all things do,” he muttered, eyes vacant.

Oh. That simple, huh?

“Are we gonna fall apart?” Yosuke cracked.

Naoto’s gaze snapped to meet Yosuke’s. As above as so below, and they were all coming apart at the seams, weren’t they?

There was no answer to Yosuke’s question. Both of them knew that. And there was no one to blame either. Just an invisible evil, intangible and corrupt, and it was only a matter of time before it came for them all.

Naoto bit his lip and tilted his head. Removed his knee from the desk. “If I may, I’d like to tell you about a project I’m starting.” He deftly maneuvered past some papers in the floor toward a file cabinet. He knocked on it twice, producing a tinny sound. “I call it the F-Files.”

“Like that one show?” Yosuke quirked a brow.

“I suppose,” Naoto smirked. “But the ‘F’ is short for ‘fog,’ seeing as it has increased ever since the Midnight Channel Murders began.”

“So, ‘Fog Files,’ then?”

“Yes. And although this one isn’t located in Inaba, it has certainly piqued my interest.” Naoto gestured to the projection on the side wall. “A man in Shibuya, Tokyo reported hearing a businessman muttering something about penitence before running out into the road to be hit by a car. Many of these occurrences have been spotted close together. The Tokyo Police Department suspects a serial killer as do I. Personally, I would like to take a look as I’ve been hired onto a smaller piece of the case. Our train leaves in two hours, and I’ve already made the arrangement for a two-bed room.” Naoto flicked his brows at Yosuke. “Any questions, partner?”

Yosuke slid his chin into the palm of his hand, a cheeky grin forming. “None here, partner.” Then, he squinted. “But are you sure it’s not a case of paranormal hypnosis?”

“We’ll just have to see it to believe it, won’t we? And I expect you to get plenty of sleep on the train ride there. Understood?” Naoto demanded.

Yosuke snorted. “As long as you understand that I’m driving the car to the station.”

“That is… acceptable,” Naoto nodded. He watched with mild interest as Yosuke ambled past him. “Oh, and Yosuke-senpai?”

Ready to make a quip about the honorific, Yosuke turned slightly, but stopped, seeing the sincerity and gleam in Naoto’s dark blue eyes.

“Happy Birthday,” he effused.

Yosuke ruffled Naoto’s hair. “Thanks. You wanna buy me a cake?”

Naoto blinked in surprise. “Oh, how foolish of me! I should have had made one for you before you came and—“

“No no. I’m all set on Nao-cakes.” Yosuke began walking away before stopping. “Forever,” he punctuated.

“You are quite insufferable sometimes, Yosuke-senpai,” Naoto sighed.

“But I’m lovable!” Yosuke grinned.

“Sure.” Naoto pushed past him out of the doorway.

Yosuke looked after him, and he believed he saw at least the traces of a smile beneath all that blush.

Maybe someday. Maybe a month from now. Maybe when the cut wasn’t so fresh.

He’d just have to keep track of the time.